Returning to Beach View, Peggy found a note from Cordelia who’d left with Bertie to have lunch at the golf club. Realising she had the rest of the day to herself, she made a quick cup of tea and then headed into town to buy new underwear, and then go up to see Stan and April at the stationmaster’s house.

It had come as a terrible shock to everyone in Cliffehaven when it was announced that the station was to close, for being a seaside town the local businesses relied heavily on the trains to bring in the tourists.

Rosie, who was on the council now, knew that if they lost this vital link the town would die, and she had immediately started up a fierce campaign to stop the closure, by gathering hundreds of signatures, talking to the press and generally making herself a thorough nuisance to the railway company. When it seemed she was getting nowhere, she went with the mayor and half the town council to both Downing Street and the railway company headquarters to present the petition and plead their case.

She’d been partially successful in that the trains would still come to Cliffehaven, but the station would no longer be manned. Poor Stan had been forcibly retired on a good pension, and the people of Cliffehaven had thrown him a huge party to thank him for the years he’d spent looking after everyone. The railway company gave him a gold pocket watch, demolished the signal box and the remains of the booking hall and waiting room, and that had been that.

Stan had been desolate to think he was no longer useful, but with his niece April’s encouragement, his allotment was now flourishing, and he’d begun to sell his produce to Sam the greengrocer, which gave him some extra pocket money.

Danuta had worried about wearing white on her wedding day, for she’d borne a child with Jean-Luc and was far removed from the innocent young girl who’d fled Poland all those years ago. However, Stanislaw seemed to expect her to be dressed like a traditional bride as they were marrying in St Cuthbert’s church, and after discussing it with Peggy, Danuta had bowed to her wisdom and chosen white lace, which wasn’t rationed.

She’d always hidden her ugly scars and had dreaded Sally seeing them and asking difficult questions when she’d gone for her initial fitting. But Sally had been discretion itself as she’d measured her and then pinned the fabric around her, and the subject never arose.

Now, at last, it was her wedding day, and Danuta shivered in anticipation as the cool lining of her beautiful dress slithered over her skin. She stood patiently in front of the long mirror as Peggy fastened the concealed zipper at the back, and fussed over the froth of lace which fell from the knees to swirl around her satin shoes into a sweeping train.

She couldn’t believe how different she looked, and felt a thrill of excitement at how Stanislaw would react when he saw her.