‘They’re marvellous,’ Sybil said, and Katie agreed. She and Sybil had joked that they needed to double the garden’s beetroot crop, as the Poles liked them so much.

The memories were not all sad. Marek told them one night that on the ship, the SS Atlantis, that had brought him and Piotr from Naples, no fewer than eight babies were born on the voyage.

‘It was like a – what do you call a birth hospital?’

‘Maternity hospital,’ Sybil said, chuckling.

‘Yes. A lot of babies! Very good!’

Agnieska had spent almost five years in a Displaced Persons camp in India, south of Bombay, before a brief time in a beautiful camp in Uganda, which she said she enjoyed more. She gradually told them stories about it, which Katie knew Marek had never heard before, either. Sometimes round the meal table she would tell him something in Polish and he would repeat for the rest of them in English.

‘She says,’ he related one evening, ‘that when India gained its independence in forty-seven, there were great celebrations, and for a few says everything in Bombay was free: restaurants, taxis.’ Agnieska was laughing. ‘They went to the city and had a marvellous time, living it up – you can say this, living it up?’

‘Yes,’ Katie said. ‘You certainly can.’

‘You’ve certainly seen a lot of the world, between you,’ Sybil said.

‘I’ve got something to tell you, lovey,’ Katie said to Michael, soon after she and Marek had made their decision. They were in their room and she had sat down on the bed and pulled him onto her lap.

Michael said, ‘What?’ absent-mindedly.

‘Are you listening?’

‘Yes.’ He turned his head and his blue eyes looked into hers. She was startled again by how beautiful he was, and she was full of love for him.

‘The thing is, you like Marek, don’t you?’

He nodded.

‘Well, Marek and I are – well, we love each other and we have decided to get married.’ He was staring steadily at her. ‘Which means that we’ll live together – I mean, we’re going to stay here with Sybil . . . And . . .’

‘Will he be my daddy?’

‘He’ll sort of be . . . He’ll be like a daddy to you, a bit like he is now, that’s all.’

‘Oh,’ Michael said. ‘That’s all right. Can I go and play now?’ He was wriggling to get down. Katie felt a bit wounded. She had expected a more emotional response, perhaps even opposition.

‘Are you pleased?’ she asked, as he slithered from her lap.

‘Yes!’ he called, in a happy voice. ‘I’m going to play trains with Piotr now. He promised!’