Cindy laughed. ‘I know, nothing like you, isn’t it great? Honestly, I’m a magician. Women come in here and a couple of hours later they walk out with new hair and it changes them. Listen, me and our Reg are going down to the Admiral on Wednesday – why don’t you come and join us? Shall I knock on for you at half seven?’

‘Oh no, no. People will think I’m trying to be something I’m not at my age, mutton dressed as lamb.’

Cindy pushed Maggie back down into the chair. ‘Maggie, look at you – you are gorgeous. It’s been time to move on for years. Every other woman widowed in the war from around here has remarried and had a second lot of kids and they’ve moved on, but not you. You’ve carried a torch around for way too long. Everyone knows it and, what is more, you know it too. Look, come out with us, will you? Just once. And if you don’t feel comfortable then, well, my Reg will walk you back, I promise. If you say no, I’ll never do your hair again.’

Maggie had grinned and felt her resolve weaken. ‘Oh, go on then – but first I’m going into town to get myself some of that tutty you’ve just put on my face!’

‘Good, well, we’ll be at your back gate at half seven. Tell you what, if you start coming out at night with us and you keep this look up, you won’t be single for very long. Time for a quick ciggie before you go?’

Cindy had winked as she pulled the packet of cigarettes out of her pocket and Maggie longed to confide in her, to tell her there was only one man she ever thought she could trust. A man she had known since he was a thin and gangly teenager, about to go to war. A man who was completely unavailable, so Cindy’s prediction would never come to pass.

Now, as she waited for Cindy and Reg to call for her, she felt excited and nervous at the same time, felt the familiar loneliness seep through her body, compounded by the silence of the house. She thought of Eric, of how she had let her life slip by, worrying about the little things, like making sure the front step was never dirty, that her nets were washed every third Monday. That her windows shone, the cat was fed, the range blackened and that she always had a bit put by. If she carried on as she was, she would wake up one morning and nothing would have changed and she would be past it. No, she could not let that happen. A clean step didn’t make her laugh. The nets couldn’t keep her warm at night.