It was too grim for Enid to think about.

‘You can’t live so separately from the rest of your country,’ insisted Ava.

‘I’d like to. Why not?’

‘They won’t let you. They will make you conform.’

‘I’m fine now. Head down. In a reserved occupation.’ He sounded bitter.

‘Do you hate it here?’ Ava asked.

‘Not at all. I love it. Considerably more . . .’ He paused and glanced at Vivian from under his lashes. ‘It’s more wonderful than I might have imagined, but I feel a bit of a lightweight. The men who really object to the war, the fanatics as you call them, are starving and beaten in prisons. The other poor buggers are out there taking God knows what for their country. I think this is too soft.’ He stared miserably at the floral china cups and the iced cakes. ‘Complacency horrifies me. I can imagine why mothers and sweethearts hate me now.’

‘But your mother is happier.’ Ava smiled at Enid. Enid felt heavy. He was blaming her for protecting him, but what else could she do? That was her duty. She was his mother. First. Always.

‘Yes.’

‘That’s something.’

‘Yes.’ Enid thought he seemed surprisingly willing to explain himself to Ava. He’d given up doing so of late. People simply became frustrated, vicious. He usually just kept his thoughts to himself. She scrutinised him carefully. He kept his eyes straight forward, yes, trained on Ava, and yet she had the feeling that it was not her he was offering up explanations to. Vivian. It had to be a new sensation for him, caring what a woman might think and feel about his actions. Before the war, he had never cared.

‘Tell me, what was it like in there? In prison, exactly?’

‘They took away my voice. Literally. We weren’t allowed to talk to one another. We were not permitted books, other than the Bible, and it goes without saying that we were not allowed writing materials. They did their best to strip me of my dignity and my liberty, but that’s not surprising. It is war, after all. But my voice? The entire point of being human is that we are supposed to be able to say what we think, voice an objection. Do you see? If not that, then aren’t we just animals?’

Ava looked pensive. She nodded her head a fraction. Enid had had as much as she could take. Determinedly she turned the conversation, and this time they all respected her enough to allow it.

‘Are you staying long, Ava?’

‘Sadly, no. I need to be back in the office the day after tomorrow. I’ll leave tomorrow morning. Just long enough to scare off the in-laws.’

Enid smiled politely, ignoring the comment about Sir Charles and Lady Owens. ‘Vivian will miss you.’

‘Oh no, I don’t think so. Certainly not as much as she used to.’ Ava stared meaningfully at Howard. Her gaze had quite an effect. He was sipping tea and suddenly he started to cough. Vivian clumsily and quite uselessly handed him a napkin, which caused her cake fork to slip off her plate and on to the wooden floor with a clatter. Both she and Howard bent to reach for it simultaneously, their heads narrowly missed bumping. ‘Oh, I thought you were going to bang your heads together,’ laughed Ava. Enid thought that might be a good thing if it brought them to their senses.