As everyone’s gaze turned to Geoff, he squirmed in his seat. Maggie’s heart went out to him. Geoff Braithwaite was the one person in Snowden Hall who was even shyer than her.

It was such a waste, Nancy had said this morning, continuing her assessment of the chaps, because he was rather handsome but if a fellow didn’t have the personality to go with the looks, it was a non-starter.

Poor Geoff did have an awful stutter. Like a couple of the keys on Maggie’s typewriter, he sometimes got stuck on certain letters. ‘S’ and ‘R’ were particularly troublesome. Ray, for example, came out as ‘Way’.

A couple of times he’d tried to speak and then gave up, turning red with shame and clenching his fists and his teeth in frustration.

‘Come on, spit it out, old boy,’ Bill said once, which only made matters worse. Geoff’s tongue got in even more of a tangle.

Maggie had wanted to tell Bill that he really wasn’t helping. But girls didn’t stand up for boys, she’d only embarrass Geoff. The other chaps would tease him something rotten. They might even decide that Maggie had taken a shine to him. So, she’d kept quiet.

Of course, the King had a stammer. And it was worse for him because the whole Commonwealth knew, on account of the speeches he had to make to rally the nations. At least Geoff could sit at his desk and get on with his work, he didn’t have to speak much.

Pam and Nancy said they wanted to do nothing more than relax in the garden, knitting and reading. So after breakfast, Maggie dutifully helped carry out tartan rugs and magazines and spread them out on the lawn.

She wondered whether she ought to have gone to church with the others, after all. She could have sat quietly in the pew, letting the sermon drift over her, thinking about Jack. Instead, she was lumbered with Pam and Nancy and – oh, salvation! Within a few minutes she heard a cheery, ‘Hello, the house!’

The Land Army girls had arrived.

‘We’re absolutely fagged out,’ Charity announced, throwing herself to the ground. ‘All we’re fit for is sleep.’

‘Yes, sorry to be dull,’ Gillian said. ‘All this fresh air has worn us out.’ She held up her right hand. ‘Guess what? I’ve found a cure for blisters! Last night I had five on my hand and this morning I popped them, washed my hand under the cold tap and look, good as new!’

Nancy was curled up asleep on one of the rugs, while Pam was sitting further back in the shade, propped up against the trunk of one of the huge cedars.

Gillian looked up, caught sight of her and called, ‘Hey, Pam, what are you doing back there in the dark?’