‘Darling,’ I said gently. ‘You’ve never touched a woman much before, have you?’

His face turned red. He was twenty-five, a year older than me, and innocent. ‘No,’ he said very quietly, as if ashamed. ‘Never had the courage – or the chance much. Not many girls go for cripples, you see.’

‘And men don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses,’ I said, trying to joke him out of his embarrassment. But he was solemn and unsure of himself.

‘I’m sorry.’ He couldn’t look me in the eyes. ‘You’re different, Katie. You’re so very special. I love you.’

I leaned to him and kissed him again. I longed to show him the joy of it, to let him touch me. It would be all right here, where it was so secluded. He began to unfasten my blouse, fumbling with the top button. He looked me in the eyes as if waiting for permission.

‘You don’t mind? I’ve never – I’d like to see you . . .’

When he had undone the buttons and slowly parted the two sides of white cotton, he slid his fingers inside the lacy edge of my bra. As he touched me I let out a slight sound, wanting him to continue. I could hear his breath coming fast and his hands were not steady.

When my clothes were undone he stared, childlike suddenly. ‘Oh, Kate – they’re so beautiful.’

I waited for him to touch me, eyes closed and crying out with the pleasure of it as his hands reached my flesh. His breathing was fast and excited. A sudden sound startled me, a whisper of foliage, and I sat back from Douglas in time to pull the front of my blouse together as my mother advanced on us down the garden, her hands gigantic in gardening gloves. We sat feeling utterly foolish, but to her credit she gave us as wide a berth as possible and kept her eyes fixed on the vegetable patch beyond us. Passing back in front of us moments later with a garden fork she’d come to retrieve she said casually, ‘By the way, there’s tea . . .’

Douglas’s cheeks were burning red. Silently I buttoned my blouse.

‘Look,’ Douglas said eventually, ‘if we really care for one another, we ought to be able to wait for all that, don’t you think? As a mark of respect. It should really be for after marriage, shouldn’t it?’

I kept my gaze turned away from his, blushing now myself as I realized Douglas assumed I was innocent.

He misinterpreted my heightened colour. ‘And I should be very happy if we didn’t have to wait very long.’

Olivia didn’t come home until shortly before the Japanese surrender in August 1945.

‘My darling, darling!’ I cried, when she first arrived to see us, all my niggles about her letters forgotten. I held her tight, tears on my face. ‘It feels like a lifetime since I’ve seen you.’

‘To me too,’ she said, returning my embrace.