‘They should not have to be soldiers.’

‘But you could be. You’re big and strong.’ He stared at her with something close to contempt. Did he believe she was trying to flatter him. She was not. She was stating what was patent.

‘I’m a playwright, or at least I was, Mrs Owens. I don’t want to bear it. I don’t want to become a brute.’

‘They are not brutes, they are brave.’

‘I don’t doubt that.’

‘Wouldn’t you rather die than end up speaking German?’

‘That’s just it, I wouldn’t. I won’t be told what to do.’ He was emphatic and she knew she was losing.

‘You are very introspective.’

‘It’s not a weakness or a sin.’

‘Are you sure about that? I’m certain it means you will be damned.’

He laughed. ‘You are clever, Mrs Owens. You really are.’

She hadn’t meant to make a joke and therefore couldn’t respond to his compliment. ‘And you are very stubborn, Mr Henderson. As well as rather vain. Who is to say that you know best?’

‘Who is to say they do? There’s so much squandering of life. I won’t be a part of it. I demand the right to my life.’ Glancing around the room, he added, ‘Or at least the chance to choose how I die.’ He banged his hand down on the table, causing it to shudder and her to recoil.

‘Steady on, keep it civil.’ The interruption came from the guard. Vivian realised they were both shouting.

‘I don’t know why you insist on treating the war like an intellectual debate,’ she snapped.

‘Anything but. It’s more real and visceral than that. Don’t for a moment doubt it.’ They glared at one another, combative. The silence that ensued was unpleasant, tricky. Was there anything more to say? If she let his arguments into her head, she might lose her grip on all that seemed secure and all she’d thought to be true. She was made most uncomfortable by the realisation that knowing Enid’s son might demand exactly that of her.

He looked weary. Quietly, not meeting her eyes but staring at his hands in his lap, ‘Did you know that in September 1915, the Germans were so horrified about how many of our men they had slaughtered, they held their fire so we could retreat.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘No, I don’t expect you to.’ Disappointment again. It was so galling. ‘It is true. I knew someone who was there in the battle. He was injured. I visited him in the hospital and he told me.’

‘Who is this friend? I should like to meet him and hear it from his lips.’

‘It was my brother, and he’s dead. Gangrene.’

‘Oh.’ Vivian wondered whether Enid knew that her boys had managed their goodbyes. She’d never mentioned it so Vivian didn’t think she could. Why hadn’t he told her? It would be some comfort. What couldn’t he tell her? ‘They are saying you are a coward, a traitor even. Don’t you care what they are saying about you?’