Daddy dropped me down to the town to pick up the bus and all he said was ‘watch yourself’. He headed off in the Austin Maxi to do the big circuit around the checkpoint and straight home. I kept my eye on him as long as I could but he didn’t look back. One day, Daddy and me would be able to bowl along, windows wound down, loving the fresh smell of the green thorny hedgerows running riot with honeysuckle and foxgloves, nettles and briars, and we wouldn’t have to slam to a stop because an armed soldier was standing in the middle of the road.

Daddy always gives the car registration number and shows his licence without a word while the soldiers wait with a roll of spike strip ready to throw across the road in case he drives off. He’s like the wild birds who keep up their sweet song from the trees while the walkie-talkies hiss and click, untouched.

The bus as always smelt vaguely of sandwiches and wee and stale smoke. I was sitting framed by a big circle of clear window where I’d wiped and wiped with my glove to get rid of the sweaty condensation. I saw Joe getting out of his daddy’s much nicer car. My heart flipped.

His daddy ruffled his hair and gave him a kiss. My stomach flipped, a cissy in public. For God’s sake, couldn’t they have got that mushy nonsense out of the way at home where no one but themselves would have to tolerate it? I waved just once and he gave me a funny little salute before he turned away with his smile and a blush to get on the bus set aside for the boys. He’s alright, I told myself, he’s just different like Lizzie Magee is different and I love her. Neither of them had been trained to walk to heel.

At the very last, Lizzie puffed aboard with a suitcase. What could she need with a suitcase? It travelled in front of her, part armour, part battering ram, until she got to me where she collapsed pink-faced and sweaty-haired.

–  What’s in the case?

–  Mostly biscuits and other essential items!

We were still laughing at how mad in the head she was when I looked up and saw the convent’s French assistant Jacques Bernier standing on the pavement staring straight at me before he started to make his way through the cars to get on with us. Lizzie Magee had been madly in love with him from day one. This would tip her over the edge.

–  Jesus! Mary! Is that … is that him?

–  It certainly looks like him!

–  Mary, this is set down from God! You won’t be the only woman on the bus home!