Opening the wardrobe door Sybil took out a couple of outfits. ‘I recently bought these in Lancaster; they’ll do for the time being and I can always pick up more when I’m passing through London.’

Wide-eyed Rosie gazed at the fashionably short black-and-white crêpe pleated skirt and matching top which Sybil held in one hand and the navy cotton shirtwaister she held in the other.

‘Gorgeous!’ she laughed. ‘You’ll look very smart and professional.’

‘That’s exactly the look I want,’ Sybil replied. ‘No frills and flounces in this wartime bunker – my flirting days are over.’

‘You always look gorgeous whatever you wear,’ Rosie said, as she headed towards the door. ‘The children told me they’re meeting you later for a swim.’

‘Do you mind my seeing them without you?’ Sybil asked anxiously.

‘Of course I don’t mind – you must make the most of every moment while you’re here, close to them.’

Sybil found Sally and Ronnie in their favourite spot, by a rock pool where little crabs scuttled and insects skimmed the surface of the water. Both of them were sitting side by side looking very glum. Hurrying towards them, she plonked the basket she had brought along with her down on the ground before gathering the children into her arms.

‘I’ve brought your goodbye presents,’ she said brightly.

Close to tears, Sally gulped, ‘We’re sad because you’re leaving, Auntie Sybil.’

‘We don’t want you to go,’ growled Ronnie, who was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Determined to keep the mood cheerful, Sybil rummaged in the basket.

‘I’ve already told you, it’s not forever, just a temporary break,’ Sybil started. ‘Come on, kids, after all that we’ve been through, do you really think I’d turn my back on my two best friends?’

Considerably brightened, Ronnie and Sally beamed.

‘It was exciting when you were having your baby on the train,’ Sally giggled.

‘For you, maybe,’ Sybil grinned. ‘Now look,’ she added in a louder voice as she peered into her basket. ‘What have we here?’

With a swagger Ronnie read the names on the little tags Sybil had attached to the parcels.

‘That’s for Sally, this is for me,’ he said as he distributed them. Both children smiled with pleasure when they unwrapped their gifts.

‘Mrs Tiggy-Winkle!’ Sally cried, as she stared in delight at her brand-new book, which in the past she had only read with Sybil in Kendal Library.

‘William and the Evacuees,’ Ronnie chuckled. ‘I can read this on my own now,’ he added proudly.

Hunkering down between the children, Sybil said, ‘What you two little terrors need to understand is that I have to go away in order to do my war work; it’s a duty we must all do if we’re to win this terrible war.’

Resorting to his favourite expression, Ronnie muttered darkly, ‘Bleedin’ Hitler!’