She nods. ‘He’s ready. We’ve talked about it, but it just never seemed real. Then that bloody leaflet came through today and …’ She covers her mouth with her flattened hand and turns away.

‘Ah now, lass.’

She shakes her head and lowers her hand, her eyes glistening. ‘We’re getting married, Jack.’

Like a boxer on the ropes, he steadies himself, struggling to conceal the effect of the unexpected uppercut.

‘Married.’ His voice is hollow.

‘Gordon knew war was coming. He says it’s been inevitable since the Germans invaded Czechoslovakia. He … he said … we don’t know what time we have left together. He doesn’t want to waste a minute of it.’

He nods, his grip tightening on the wood. ‘So now you’ll tell your dad?’

She avoids his question by levering another frame from the stack. She makes a show of looking for the chalk mark identifying its destination. ‘This one is for the other dining-room window. At least all that work wasn’t in vain, though I can’t help wishing it was.’

‘He is going to come and speak to your dad, Gwen?’

‘Of course.’ A nervous laugh escapes her. ‘Can you imagine his face when Gordon turns up asking for my hand? After all he’s said, after all his doubts. I’ve proven him wrong, Jack! He should have had more faith in me. I knew from the start that Gordon and I would go the distance. Sometimes, you just do, don’t you? The first time I met him, it was like fireworks between us. I’d never felt anything like it … and it was the same for him. I knew then we were meant to be together. And I know we’ve been skulking around behind Dad’s back, but really, Jack, we’ve had no choice and, at the end of the day, we’ve made such an effort to carry on seeing each other, it just proves it, doesn’t it? That it’s the real thing. It’s true love.’

Jack forces a smile. Fireworks, he thinks, are funny things. They erupt with such drama – deafening explosions resulting in a kaleidoscope of colour – and yet, moments later, when their ghostly trails have faded from the night sky and their resonance has been lost to the breeze, there is nothing to see, nothing to hear, just the whisper of the air and the pitch of the night sky. Their impact is so transient it is as if they had never been there at all.

They carry the frames from the cellar one by one, depositing them in the rooms they were made for. When they are done, Gwen asks Jack to help her measure the windows yet to be addressed and she leads him upstairs.