Jim had slept and dreamed of Peggy and home – of his daughters, Anne, Cissy and little Daisy, and his sons, Bob and Charlie – of his elder brother, Frank, and his father, Ron, and the town of Cliffehaven where he’d lived all his life until two wars had forced him to take up arms and leave those familiar and much loved surroundings.

Those dreams echoed the sadness that had plagued him ever since he’d left Beach View, for he’d been gone for almost four years and had yet to meet Anne’s little girls, and the last time he’d seen Daisy, she’d still been a babe in arms. Cissy, who’d always been the naughty one with ambitions to become a star of stage and screen had clearly matured during her time as a WAAF at RAF Cliffe, and was now a business partner in a very successful private taxi hire company in London.

As for his sons, they’d left home as evacuees back in 1940 – bewildered little boys who couldn’t possibly have understood why they’d had to be torn from their family to go and live in Somerset with their big sister, Anne. Bob was now a capable young man of eighteen and managing the Somerset farm, and Charlie was fifteen, all set to take his school certificate and go on to technical college to study engineering. Jim had missed so much of them growing up, and there had always been a constant shadow of worry hanging over him that his children, and his beloved Peggy, had become strangers during his long absence – and he to them, for the war had changed him irreparably. If only the army would release him, he could return home and begin to repair his relationship with them all and once again be in the bosom of his family.

As the exhaustion of almost constant battle had slowly left him and the long, languid days had begun to make him feel restless and impatient for news of his demob and passage home, he’d abandoned the hammock and set about keeping busy by joining in the fun.

The hot, sunny days had become filled with shopping in the Burmese markets which had sprung up again, or with swimming and playing games of football and cricket on the sand accompanied by the mouth-watering aromas of barbecued meat cooking on hot coals outside the mess hall. The sultry tropical nights had seen Jumbo leave his chair, book and umbrella to join Jim and take part in dancing with the off-duty nurses from the nearby hospital, or drinking beer while watching a film or listening to ITMA on the wireless.

There had been trips along the coast in a convoy of trucks, delightfully crammed in between laughing nurses who wore little more than swimsuits and native sarongs. These outings always involved more beer, swimming and picnics on the beach, and they’d returned to camp satiated with sun and sand and sea to fall dreamlessly asleep until birdsong and the chatter of monkeys woke them at dawn.