The drive out to St Cuthbert’s was very pleasant as the sun was shining, the blossom was bursting out in all the trees, and the grassy banks on either side of the road were jewelled with bluebells, anemones and bright yellow crocus.

She parked the car, noting that Anne was waiting with the children by the ancient church’s steps, the new priest chatting happily with every guest as they arrived. The grumpy old priest Ron had sparred with over many years had finally retired, and Father Finlay was a breath of fresh air, for he’d served as a padre in the navy throughout the war and had a terrific sense of humour.

Peggy took Cordelia’s arm and followed Rosie into the cool, dark church which had stood here since Saxon times. The ancient stained-glass windows glowed with the sun, emitting a rainbow of colour into the small church to chase away the shadows and bring a sense of warmth. The altar was dressed in white, and April had once again come up trumps by decorating the church with beautiful flowers. She and her Uncle Stan, the now retired stationmaster, smiled a welcome as Peggy walked down the aisle to the soft organ music and low murmur of the wedding guests.

Everyone had made a terrific effort, Peggy realised, as she saw the smart suits, big hats and pretty dresses. Charlotte, Kitty and Roger sat with their three small toddlers; Sally was with John, Ernie and Harry; Solly and Rachel were sitting with Doris, and a large contingent from the airfield had turned up with their families, as had the district and hospital nurses from both Cliffe and the Memorial.

Peggy guided Cordelia into the front pew and caught sight of Frank, who looked back at her rather sheepishly as he sat cosily next to Brenda who appeared to be extremely happy to be there. She grinned at him to let him know she approved and then sat down.

‘Danuta told me they were seeing one another ages ago,’ she confided in a whisper to Cordelia. ‘But this is the first time they’ve been seen together as a couple.’

‘Well, it’s about time,’ said Cordelia, turning to wave and smile at them. ‘I guessed weeks ago.’

They settled down to wait for the bride, and Peggy watched Stanislaw and Martin who were sitting in the front row of the crowded choir stalls and quietly talking together. They looked very handsome in the Phoenix Air uniform which closely resembled that of the RAF, and had pinned on their medals in honour of the occasion.

The old oak door creaked alarmingly and Father Finlay came up the aisle with a beaming smile.

Stanislaw and Martin got to their feet as he approached, and Peggy noted that Stanislaw had gone the most interesting shade of green. She hoped fervently that he wouldn’t faint, but it seemed Father Finlay was well prepared for nervous grooms, for he surreptitiously dug a brandy flask from his pocket. Once both men had taken a restorative nip, he hid it back beneath his white cassock and turned to the congregation.