There were dormer windows in the roof now, for the vast attic had been reconfigured into a double bedroom, bathroom and dressing room with a flight of stairs coming down into what had been the two entrance halls, and which now had a single front door. The walls between the bungalows had been knocked through and a graceful archway led into a spacious sitting room where John’s spare bedroom and bathroom had once been. Another two arches behind the staircase led into a kitchen that ran right along the back of the house and overlooked the combined gardens.

The front room and part of the spare bedroom on Doris’s side had been knocked through and was now an elegant dining room, and her old bedroom had been enlarged and now had an en-suite bathroom to cater for visitors. Deep cupboards had been built beneath the stairs to house John’s golf clubs, the Hoover, and all the usual junk one accumulated, and in her lovely new kitchen there was a washing machine, refrigerator and an AGA which heated the water and the radiators and kept the whole house cosy.

Doris sighed with pleasure, for the house had fulfilled the dreams she and John shared, and every time she walked through that front door she was reminded of how lucky she was.

As the rain drummed on the car roof and the wind buffeted against it, Doris snapped out of her thoughts and gathered up her shopping baskets and numerous packages. She was about to struggle out of the car hampered by the strong wind coming up from the sea when John came hurrying towards her with his large golfing umbrella.

‘I was looking out for you,’ he said, taking the baskets, and shielding her from the rain as they scurried up the garden path. ‘Let’s get you inside. You must be exhausted.’

They entered the quiet, warm luxury of their beautiful home and John took her packages and helped her off with her coat and hat. He kissed her damp cheek. ‘The kettle’s on. I thought you’d appreciate a cuppa after trawling round the shops most of the day.’

She took his hand and softly kissed his lips. ‘Whatever would I do without you?’ she murmured.

‘I sincerely hope you never have to,’ he replied, giving her a brief hug. ‘Come on, let’s have that tea and you can show me what you bought.’

Doris took off her wet shoes and left them on the doormat. Slipping her feet into her slippers, she followed him past the stairs and into the kitchen, which despite the gloomy day looked wonderfully bright and welcoming with its pale cream walls, white cupboards and the original blue and red floor tiles the builder had managed to match up with some he’d found in his shed.

She sat at the scrubbed pine kitchen table and lit a welcome cigarette. ‘The queues were horrendous, but I didn’t manage to get everything I was after,’ she said. ‘The shops are half-empty and there’s very little choice, so Christmas lunch will be very much a case of making do with what there was. But I found a wooden fire engine for Teddy, a smart tie and cufflinks for Anthony and a very pretty blouse for Susan. I splashed out a bit on the new baby and found a silver rattle for her in one of the antique shops. I’ll have to clean it thoroughly, of course – heaven knows the germs that might be on it.’