So they’d kissed. The perfect kiss. Tender, loving, everything she’d imagined a perfect kiss would be. She’d been transported. Yes, this was definitely the real thing, she’d thought. And that very same night, lying in bed, reliving the moment, she’d made a plan.

Betty intended to tell Kasey all about her plan later today, in the early evening when they went for their walk. She’d leave it until after they’d kissed though.

Over the next half hour or so, as she continued pulling beers, pouring drinks and flashing pretty smiles at customers, even exchanging flirtatious repartee, Betty was really working on automatic pilot.

Her mind in full romantic mode, her glance happened upon the captain and she couldn’t help but think of poor tragic Amelia Sanderson. Still young. Well, relatively – Amelia must be close to thirty, she thought. Still attractive – well, sort of, perhaps a bit colourless. But so sad. Ever watching, ever waiting for a husband who would never return. How wonderful if poor Amelia could accept her widowhood and find a new love in Captain Robinson. Who isn’t really bad looking, Betty thought – in an older-man, craggy sort of way.

Amelia Sanderson was actually quite taken with Captain Samuel Robinson, although certainly not in the manner about which Betty fantasised. Amelia considered the captain a real gentleman and she felt much safer with his presence in the house. She admitted as much to her good friend Grace as they sat side by side in the back room of the AWU packing their Red Cross parcels.

‘You were quite right, Grace,’ she said, ‘I do feel safer, just as you said I would, which is odd really, because Captain Robinson is not even there most of the time. I suppose it’s the fact that an officer is seen coming and going from the house that makes me less jumpy about the thought of those rowdy hordes out in the street breaking down the door and … well, it’s just nerves, of course.’ She broke off, embarrassed. ‘Silly of me I know, but this past week with Captain Robinson there, the noises out in the street don’t seem nearly as frightening as they were.’

‘And you’re doing your bit,’ Grace said encouragingly, delighted that her advice had proved so helpful.

‘Yes, as a matter of fact I am,’ Amelia replied with surprising eagerness, ‘but not just in providing an officer’s billet. I’ve agreed to teach some of the soldiers under Captain Robinson’s command.’

‘Really? How wonderful.’ Grace was impressed.

‘Yes. Quite a number of them are illiterate, you know.’ Amelia smiled. She actually smiled. A pretty smile, a genuinely happy smile, and one not seen for such a long time that, rather than surprise, Grace’s reaction was closer to astonishment.

‘I shall teach them to read and write,’ Amelia went on. ‘Just the basics. And I shall help them write a simple letter home, one that can be read out to their family. I think that would be a fine thing to do.’