She accepted that she had been thrown into a war herself, the unrelenting war on domesticity. She now darned stockings to wear the next day; she scrubbed, shovelled, brushed and polished alongside her maids. In her weaker, bleaker moments she sometimes wondered how she’d become trapped in this life, and then she would remember. Such a small slip. Now it was always going to be this way. Married to a man she didn’t love, who didn’t love her, who might not be able to love at all.

Yet slowly, over the weeks, she found that the animals’ neediness and the relentless, repetitive nature of the chores required to run a farm was a blessing. On the whole, it was good to be busy. She had purpose for the first time. A purpose that was not related to her looks and attractiveness. She’d spent her life measuring her worth by an invisible standard of achievement: could she get some particular man to dance with her, to hold her hand, to send her flowers? She always could. She hadn’t had to exert herself. Until that last occasion, when everything fell apart. Now she was often exhausted. Every night she fell into bed aching and found sleep quickly, no longer perturbed by the hooting owls or other country sounds. The reality of food, sweat, faeces, earth exhausted her. Her knuckles were red raw, as was her face, as often as not. She felt the muscles in her arms, legs and belly tighten. She liked her strength and leanness. She learnt not to mind the lack of a lady’s maid, the paucity of pretty clothes, friends or entertainment. She didn’t resent the extra work.

But her husband’s letter? That made her quiver with fury.

22

IT WAS A battle, not the war.

The end to the imminent threat to Dunkirk made life for all the inhabitants much more tolerable, although it immediately became apparent that the Germans’ retreat from Yser did not mean an end to danger. Attention quickly focused on the strategically important city of Ypres. About twenty-five miles from Dunkirk, its position as the last city before the coast meant it was vitally important to the Allied supply route and must be protected at all costs. No one had calculated what all costs might be. The Germans were regarding the area as equally essential, as it was the last defence before their railway network that allowed them to dominate Belgium and freely transport troops. They would fight tooth and nail. Howard thought hard about that expression until he understood it for the first time. The men would bomb and shoot, and when that didn’t work, they would claw, scrabble and tear at one another like animals.

He found it breathtakingly disappointing that no sooner was one victory secured than another had to be sought. Of course it must. There were miles and miles of front to defend. Hundreds of battles still to fight. He could not imagine how many more lives had to be sacrificed before they would be able to say it was over. People had stopped talking about being home for Christmas. That previous optimism simply seemed foolish now, laughable.