She had found him lodgings with Jenny’s parents and, though it was early days yet, was hopeful that a romance might flourish between him and Jenny.

In July, Violet Ramsbotham paid one of her regular visits.

‘Just want to see how you are getting on, dearest girl,’ Violet said in a voice like the sound of a hacksaw blade.

As Arthur scurried for cover, Vicky led Violet through the downstairs rooms and towards the French windows leading out onto the terrace, wondering how old she would have to be before Violet ceased referring to her as a girl.

‘I’m twenty-nine,’ she said casually as Violet came to a halt at the open French windows.

‘And I’m fifty and you’ll always be a girl to me,’ Violet said, knife-sharp as to why the remark had been made. ‘And everything looks as splendid as always, Vicky. Absolutely splendid.’

Twelve beds, their occupants all lying back against snowy-white pillows, were lined up on the terrace. Shuttleworth Hall’s nursing sister was by the side of one bed, changing a dressing. One nurse was writing a letter for a man who had lost three fingers on one hand and two on the other; another was leading a blind man towards the summer house. On the lawn, in little groups around tables, were several men in wheelchairs. Some were playing dominoes. Other men were down by the river, managing very ably on crutches. Others had the assistance of a VAD girl. Slung between two trees was a hammock in which a young man was noisily snoozing.

‘What is that child doing with that dog?’ Violet asked as two of the men on crutches suddenly roared with laughter.

Looking towards them Vicky saw that Nancy was pushing one of her father’s spaniels around in her doll’s pram, and the dog was wearing one of her sun hats. ‘She’s pretending it’s a doll. The dog is so daft it lets her do anything she wants with it. Yesterday, she dressed it in an army shirt and cap and we all had to salute it.’

Violet snorted in amusement. ‘Did she, indeed? Well, she’s certainly keeping the men entertained. Is that another of your children over there, playing draughts with that young man?’

‘Yes. Max and Private Callaghan have struck up quite a friendship. Are you staying for tea, Violet? It’s due to be served very soon and Josephine has baked her secret-recipe curd tarts.’

‘Well, I will stay, but not until I’ve carried out a rather painful task.’ Her amusement at the sight of Nancy and the dog faded from her face. ‘Amos thought you and your father should know that Elise Priestley died yesterday.’

Vicky sucked in her breath and tried to speak, but no words came.

‘It was expected, of course,’ Violet continued. ‘She’d been ill a long time—was ill when Adam married her.’ A spasm of emotion crossed her face. ‘Even though he’s now a captain, he still won’t get compassionate leave. Not with the state things are in at the Front. Dear Lord, when is it ever going to end? All the latest offensive seems to be yielding is an unending procession of wounded and dying men.’