A cheer rang out from a dozen or so soldiers further along the corridor. Some were sitting on the floor, playing cards, others were standing against the windows, smoking.

‘Well done, mate!’ one yelled.

Another gave an appreciative whistle. ‘We were layin’ bets you wouldn’t make that!’

Ray tried to catch his breath. He gave Maggie a hard stare. This was all her fault. He straightened his tie and rearranged his mac so it was square on his shoulders. It wasn’t the most dignified way to start the journey, entertaining the troops.

They needed to move on and get into a compartment. Ray felt uneasy around soldiers, with their quips and teasing and their strength in numbers. What must they think of him, in his civvies?

Damn, he’d really given his arm a good wrenching, pulling that door in. Almost pulled it out of its socket. Ray gave it a cursory rub. He’d like to take his coat and jacket off and inspect the arm more closely, but the soldiers’ eyes were on them. It’d look feeble, after all his heroics, if he appeared to have hurt himself.

‘Goodness! Thanks ever so much,’ Maggie said, when they’d both recovered enough to speak.

Ray shrugged. ‘Just doing my job. I’d almost given up on you.’

She winced. ‘I’m so sorry. I—’

He put his hand up. ‘Spare me the sob story. Come on.’ He retrieved her case which had landed on its side. ‘We’ve got seats in a compartment along here. The train’s full to the gunnels, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

He stopped. She wasn’t following him. She was leaning against the side for balance and cradling the carpet bag.

‘I …’ She glanced down the corridor. The soldiers looked back. One or two were smiling, encouragingly. She lowered her voice and spoke to Ray. ‘I need to go to the lavatory.’

‘Right. Shall I take your bag?’

‘No! It’s … I can manage, thanks.’

There was certainly something very precious in there. It was threadbare and worn and her suitcase wasn’t much to write home about either. It was battered and dented and the catches on the top were orange with rust.

Ray’s heart softened. She was a pathetic little thing, with her shabby luggage and her obvious lack of money, so different from Pam and Nancy and the others. How on earth was she going to fit in?

She was standing in front of him, swaying with the motion of the train, as though waiting for permission to go.

‘Very well,’ Ray said. ‘Come and find us. We’ll be along here. I’ve got your ticket, so don’t go wandering off!’

‘No, “don’t go wandering off”, Miss!’ one of the soldiers mimicked, making his pals laugh. Ray gritted his teeth. Was that how he sounded?