‘A baby brother or sister for you, Daisy,’ I said to the little girl, who was standing beside me.

‘If it’s a girl I’m going to call ’er Alice,’ she said, cheek bulging with the sweet.

Lisa shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. She’s just taken a fancy to it.’

Don got up and lit the gas before carrying on with his job. It hissed quietly behind Lisa’s head. She sat with her teacup in one hand and a cigarette in the other. After a time I started to tell her about Olivia.

Lisa listened, frowning. ‘Olivia Kemp?’ she interrupted. ‘You mean . . .?’

‘Councillor Kemp’s daughter, yes.’

‘You never said you was friendly with ’er!’

‘She was away most of the war. I didn’t see her.’

Lisa let out her loud laugh. ‘Bit different from the likes of us, I’ll bet!’

I was trying to protest at this when I saw Don looking up at us, frowning.

‘Kemp.’ He turned to Lisa. ‘Isn’t that – ?’ He gave a jerk with his head, eyebrows raised meaningfully.

‘You mean Kemp’s,’ I said. ‘His factory’s on Birch Street.’

Don shook his head impatiently. ‘Anyone knows that. No, I mean that Joyce, up in nine court – you know.’

Understanding spread across Lisa’s face in the form of a blush. ‘The one with the babby?’

Don’s face reddened as well and he looked down again, realizing the full implications of what he’d said.

Lisa’s eyes widened. ‘Come to think of it, I’ve even seen ’im round ’ere once or twice. Course, I didn’t put two and two together at the time.’

My heart began beating faster. That foggy night towards the end of the war came back to me clearly.

Lisa and Don both looked very awkward. ‘Sorry,’ Lisa said. ‘We shouldn’t be saying all this.’

I put my cup down and sat forwards. ‘Are you saying that this woman – Joyce – has carried a child by Councillor Kemp?’

Lisa grew flustered, her cheeks red. ‘Look, we don’t want to make any trouble. It was just ’earing the name . . . I believe ’e gives ’er money – takes care of ’er a bit. ’E puts ’isself about a bit round ’ere like . . . Only in ’er case there was summat to show for it. I s’pose ’er ’usband thinks it’s ’is.’

‘I see,’ I said grimly. I sat back and automatically stroked Daisy’s hair, my mind lurching from question to question. ‘Look, this is very important. Can you be sure that Alec Kemp is the father of this child?’

‘Well, no one can tell you that for sure, except Joyce, of course. But she ain’t normally one for – you know, you wouldn’t call ’er fast. And she used to work at Kemp’s before the babby.’

Thinking aloud, I said, ‘I wonder how I can find out.’

Lisa looked at me doubtfully. ‘If it was me I wouldn’t thank you for asking, but I s’pose you could go and see ’er.’