‘He is a lovely boy,’ she murmured. ‘You’ll see soon enough.’

‘Oh, Em.’ Norm turned to her and took her in his arms, clutching her close. ‘I can hardly believe I’m here. I’ve wanted you that bad.’

His lips brushed her cheek, searched for her lips, and now she remembered him properly, the feel of him. She gave a little sigh of desire. Home. Norm was home. Brimful of desire, but knowing they mustn’t let things go further – not yet – they hugged each other close.

‘Home with my family,’ he said. And suddenly he was the one sobbing in her arms.

Twenty-Eight

Everyone was keen to listen to Norm as they ate, and Cynthia made cups of tea and they chatted late into the evening. Joyce came home and said in her jovial way, ‘Oh, so you’re back, are you?’ and then grinned, showing her big teeth, and gave Norm a kiss. Em saw the admiring looks that Joyce gave Norm – Joyce who had always been the first to tease about boring Norm and his ears. Yes, Em thought proudly – Norm had changed. He was different from Sid, who had married and been in a factory all through the war.

They listened to some of Norm’s tales about Italy and all the while, even when they were eating, Norm kept one hand on Em’s knee under the table. He kept looking at her, as if he couldn’t believe she was there. After they’d all had cups of weak tea, and washed up and sat for a bit, Cynthia got up, saying, ‘Well – we’d better leave you to it’, and after the goodnights were said, Em and Norm were able to be alone at last, with the sounds of the others getting ready for bed upstairs, the noises gradually quietening.

‘Come ’ere,’ Norm said, sitting in the one armchair by the unlit fire. He patted his lap. ‘Come and sit with me, love.’

Gladly Em went and sank onto his lap, leaning against him while he held her tight. Norm nuzzled against her. She could tell how badly he wanted her, but they needed a few minutes first to talk and be close.

‘Getting your letters – that was what kept me going,’ he told her. ‘Meant the world to me, that did.’

Em laughed happily. ‘Me, too. Least I knew you were still alive.’

He looked up anxiously into her face. ‘You’ve been all right, love, haven’t you? You tell me – I’ve been doing all the talking for the two of us.’

‘I’ve been all right,’ Em said. She felt tired suddenly, thinking of it. There had been so many days, so many tiny details that Norm had missed. She couldn’t possibly tell him all of them. In that moment she felt very far away from him, as if they could never catch up. ‘Robbie’s been a good boy. And we’ve seen your mom and dad every week, of course. And I’ve had my little job . . .’ She rested her head against him, breathing him in, but his demob suit smelled alien to her. ‘Sometimes I just thought it would go on for ever. That we’d never see you again, and Robbie wouldn’t have a father.’