He had a little trouble finding Jack. But the lad had not only put himself to bed, he’d found a bed in the first place: in a remote corner of the theatre’s main amphitheatre, a couple of fold-up cots that looked as if they’d been supplied by the RAF, along with National Health Service blankets and International Red Cross sheets. The cot was a little sharp-edged but comfortable enough, even for an old codger like himself.

Ted had even had some food, a bowl of thick soup served by a stern-looking woman from the Women’s Institute.

If it wasn’t for the presence of dozens of other people in the room — and their pets, including one snoring Alsatian — he’d have been happy.

Sleep came easily, and was disturbed only a couple of times by the dogs barking.

And when he woke, in the light that marked another day, Jane’s face was before him.

He sat up — his chest sent pain shooting through his frame — and he reached out and cupped her face. “You found us.”

She was sitting on the edge of Jack’s bed. “It wasn’t so hard. Although I looked for you in the medical area. You old bugger.”

He shrugged. “Too much to do. Michael—”

She caught his eye, and shook her head, subtly.

The day felt a little colder.

“What about Henry?”

Her face turned hard. “He’s not here. He has his own agenda.”

Ted didn’t press the point.

He glanced down at Jack. The boy was awake, and looking up at them with big, wet eyes.

Jane frowned, and bent over him. “Jackie? What is it?”

At first he shook his head, but she pressed him.

“I wet the bed! I wet the bloody bed…”

The Alsatian started barking, and pulling at its short lead.

The days after that were both better and worse than the first.

There were more volunteers now, in place to do more useful things. Registration was slick and smooth, with older schoolkids able to take details down straight onto their computers, which were linked in some way Ted utterly failed to understand, and the kids were able to retrieve immediately data on friends and relatives.

For all that, there was no sign of Michael, on any system.

The billeting process went well. Ted’s first thought had been to have the refugees meet the Musselburgh people, and see if they paired off. He was especially keen to find stable homes for the unattached children.