She stared at me in silence and I thought she was making up her mind to say something. Then she put her head back, resting it against the chair, and closed her eyes.

‘Livy?’

‘I’m all right, Katie. Don’t fuss. I’m just tired. I’m always so tired. It’s been an exhausting war. Not just the work, you know – so much else going on.’ She rallied suddenly, switching into another gear. She sat up straight, eyes open. And she was off on her old track of how marvellous the Wrens had been, the parties, all the men, the team spirit, the romance . . . She talked very fast in a high, slightly childlike voice.

‘I was just the belle of so many navy do’s,’ she giggled. She began to rock the upper part of her body back and forth. I found myself shrinking back from her. ‘And when they discovered how well I could play’ – she held her hand out, indicating the piano – ‘well, of course I was in constant demand.’

‘But I thought you said you hadn’t played?’

She waved a hand at me as if I was a half-wit. ‘This was earlier. And I was always top of the men’s lists for dances. There were fights over me you know. One poor fellow was knocked out cold outside the Naafi one night over me. I thought it was simply terrific. So romantic!’ Her laughter came out exaggerated, as if she’d been drinking.

‘Livy.’ I found myself speaking in a measured voice of the sort we used for patients who were confused or agitated. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it all. But it’s over now, isn’t it? You need to rest and settle down again. Get well properly. And you’ll have to think what you’re going to do. You never wanted to come back and live at home, did you?’

She sank back in the chair, suddenly limp. ‘Daddy didn’t get elected, did he?’ She gave a malicious laugh. ‘Missed the boat. He jumps on the bandwagon thinking he’ll get a seat because of all dear Mr Churchill’s done, and then they go and elect the Labour wallahs instead. Isn’t that a joke? Don’t you think it’s a scream?’

‘Livy – don’t. Look, think about yourself. What are you going to do?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. What a nag you’re being, Katie!’ She threw herself up out of the chair and went to the piano. She lit another cigarette and offered me one. I shook my head. She sat perched on the piano stool, pulling in the smoke hard.

‘I suppose I’ll get some tedious little job in a tedious little company somewhere. I’ll have to find a way of livening it up somehow, won’t I?’ Suddenly an odd, gleeful smile spread across her face. ‘Come here, Katie.’ She beckoned me urgently. ‘I’ll tell you a secret, shall I? You must promise not to tell.’

Encouraged, I walked over to her. Putting her lips close to my ear she said, ‘They think they’ve got me here now, all locked away. But I still do it. I do. Every week at least I do it with a man. Anywhere I can. Even once in the gazebo – like when you found me and William. I told that one he had to be a very good boy. Nice and quiet, no shouting out. A lot of them shout you see, the things I do to them. Poor fellows can’t control themselves.’