Hazel didn’t want to put it back into the box. She wondered how this lock of hair had found its way back to England, from all the way across the Black Sea. It seemed such a fragile thing to remember someone by. It could so easily have been misplaced, something so small, so weightless: someone must have taken great care to get it to his grieving sister. Surely it must have been William who had brought it, got it safely home? Or had a kind friend sent it back, via the mail? Hazel supposed she would never know. She closed her hand around it, just for a moment.

‘His sister must have donated this, to preserve the memory of him.’

‘Yes,’ said the Colonel. ‘People were terrifically keen on memorials in those days.’

‘We lost our brother, too. My sister and myself. He was far from home as well,’ said Hazel.

‘In combat?’ asked the Colonel.

‘Lord, no. My brother wouldn’t have made a soldier. He was more of an arty type. Bit of a dreamer,’ said Hazel. ‘But the medal, the gift of it I mean, we’d like it to be in his name. As we discussed in our emails. We wanted to commemorate William Gale, obviously, but I thought it would be a nice way of memorializing my brother too. It belonged to him, you see.’

‘Absolutely. You’ll’ve seen the labels next to some of the exhibits.’

‘We were thinking: Donated in memory of Stephen Nolan, the great-great-grandson of William Gale. Something like that.’

‘Of course. We’ll formalize the wording in writing. And consult with you. It’s very important that it should be as you wish. We like to work as closely as we can with families. It’s a shared honour.’

No one spoke for a few moments.

‘Would it be OK if we took some pictures of these?’ Dawn asked. Hazel looked at her gratefully. It had been so poignant to her, holding the brooch, that she had not thought to make a record of it. She’d be able to show Anna and David, when she got home. And send copies to Georgie and to Karen, too.

After they’d taken photographs, the Colonel stepped back and cleared his throat, as if he was about to address a crowd. The curator took the cushion from the side table and held it out in front of him, standing very straight. The Colonel spoke a little about the proud history of the 23rd Regiment. The earliest Victoria Crosses which had been awarded to Welsh Fusiliers, for actions during the Crimean campaign. The Gale medal would be a proud addition here. It struck Hazel that he knew more about William Gale than almost all of the man’s actual descendants.