‘Oh, Mom . . .’ Em, with tears in her eyes, handed Cynthia the letter. ‘Read that – oh, good for Molly. When I think of all the different things she’s done and all those places she’s been – and I’ve never even moved from here! Makes me feel a proper stick-in-the-mud!’

‘Never you mind, bab,’ Dot said. ‘Not everyone’s meant to be a rolling stone like Molly. You’re here, making a home for your lad, and you may not get any thanks for it, but that’s what matters – and don’t you forget it.’

‘Thanks, Dot – I s’pose you’re right,’ Em said, smiling. She leaned over and touched Dot’s hand. ‘I know you being around has always made all the difference to everything – hasn’t it, Mom?’

‘Oh, it certainly has that,’ Cynthia said.

Em drained her cup. ‘Anyroad, I’d better not dawdle. I need to get Robbie home for his tea.’

XV

KATIE

Sixty-One

May 1949

Katie had already been certain of how much she loved Marek, but from Christmas night – when they had sat up talking almost all night, holding each other, kissing by the dying fire – she knew she was even more deeply, tenderly immersed in her feelings for him. She had never felt so completely at home with another person, or experienced so much longing for them. Life without him was unimaginable. Even being apart from him for a few hours made her yearn for his presence, for the sight of his face and their endless talking and laughter.

When, in the New Year, they told Sybil that they were intending to marry, she was as pleased as if she was a mother to each of them. And in some ways it felt as if she was.

‘I couldn’t be more delighted,’ she said, smiling up at them. She was sitting by the fire in the dining room and they stood rather bashfully before her, close, so that the backs of their hands were touching. ‘You make a lovely couple, and I’m sure you’ll make a good go of it.’

Katie and Marek looked at each other, beaming with the miraculous sense of their love and happiness.

‘Though it is quite quick,’ she cautioned.

Katie, though rapturously in love, had thought about it carefully. More soberly now, she said, ‘We’re very sure. And Marek has lost such a lot. I don’t have anyone much, either. We both want family . . . I suppose we feel there’s no point in delaying.’

Sybil nodded. ‘I see.’ And they could see also that she did.

‘The thing I’d feel less delighted about,’ Sybil went on, ‘is the prospect of losing you both. Have you thought where you might live? There’s nothing much going, you know.’

Once again they looked at each other, their smiles fading a little.

‘We have thought . . .’ Marek said.

‘. . . But we don’t really know, until we look.’

Sybil regarded them in silence for a moment. ‘Well, why not stay here?’