He held her close and rested his chin on her head, unable to speak.

She eventually drew back from the embrace and looked up at him with a smile. ‘Fifty quid for a good Austin 7? Have you lost your marbles, Dad?’

‘She’s a lovely, hard-working girl, and I don’t like the thought of her on that bicycle in all weathers. It’s no skin off my nose, Rita. I’ll make a handsome profit from the other cars, never you mind.’

‘You’re just an old softie really, aren’t you?’

‘I suppose I am,’ he said on a sigh. He kissed her brow and gave her a swift hug. ‘Now I’m off to my bed. We’ve a very early start in the morning.’

He shook Peter’s hand, then closed the bedroom door behind him to sink onto the bed and stare out into the darkness beyond the windows. This time tomorrow his little girl would be boarding a train that would take her far from home, and by the end of the week she’d be on a ship heading towards her new life. But Peter would love her and look after her, he was certain of that – and if he kept on making good money at the workshop, he’d soon save enough to take a trip out there to see them.

With that pleasant thought, he prepared for bed and, with help from the gin, quickly fell asleep.

Rita hadn’t slept well knowing that her father was still troubled by her imminent departure. She dressed quickly in comfortable trousers, lightweight jumper and cotton blouse, and slipped her feet into her low-heeled shoes before tiptoeing out of the bedroom to use the bathroom. She’d leave Peter sleeping for a while longer as there was plenty of time for them to have breakfast before they caught the train.

With her hair brushed to a gleam and a light application of make-up, she eyed her reflection in the bathroom mirror and was pleased with the effect. Marriage had certainly brought light and colour to her face, and there was no doubting that the excitement for the coming adventure also had something to do with it.

She went into the kitchen and found her father leaning in the back doorway, smoking a roll-up and sipping from a mug of tea as he stared out at the unkempt garden. ‘You’ll have to ask Ron to help you with the garden,’ she said, slipping an arm about his waist. ‘It’s probably time to put in some winter vegetables.’

He looked down at her and grinned. ‘I was thinking of concreting the whole thing over. Much less trouble.’

‘That’s just being lazy,’ she replied, digging him in the ribs. She went to pour out a cup of tea and then hunted through the cupboards for the makings of breakfast.

The bacon was sizzling in the pan and the table was laid by the time Peter emerged from the bathroom, freshly shaved and looking very bright considering the amount of beer he’d had last night. The three of them sat down to eat and drink their way through a second pot of tea, the silence growing ever more tense as the minutes ticked away and the time of their departure drew nearer.