Anna stared at him. ‘I – I don’t know.’

‘No, because I didn’t realise I had to ask your permission for everything I did.’

‘You don’t.’

‘That’s not what it feels like. I ask you, how am I supposed to run a businss when you’re constantly undermining me?’

‘I’m not.’

‘Oh, yes, you are.’ Suddenly all the anger seemed to go out of him and he sank down on the moquette-covered couch, his head in his hands. ‘Christ, don’t you think it’s hard enough for me, taking over from your father? Friedrich Beck, the best baker in Bethnal Green.’ There was a bitter edge to his voice. ‘Everyone loved him, didn’t they? And everyone knows I’ll never be as good as he is.’

‘That’s not true!’ Anna sat down beside him and slipped her arm around his broad shoulders. ‘Papa was very proud of you, he wanted you to take over the business.’

‘But I’m making a mess of it, aren’t I?’ Edward turned his face to hers. ‘We’re struggling, Anna. Our costs have gone through the roof, we scarcely have any customers, and the ones we do have don’t pay their bills. It ain’t like the old days when they were queuing halfway down the street.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I put up the prices and stopped the customers’ credit. But I didn’t know what else to do.’

Anna looked into his face, and for the first time saw the despair in his blue eyes. ‘You’re doing your best. I know you are,’ she said.

‘But I ain’t your father, am I?’

‘Papa didn’t always get it right, either. Remember how Mother was always telling him off about letting customers run up big bills on tick?’

Edward gave a crooked smile. ‘I do remember that.’ He held her hand. ‘I just want to make you and your father proud.’

‘I am proud of you.’ Anna planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘You’re going to make a big success of our bakery, Edward Stanning.’

He sent her a teasing look. ‘Don’t you mean, your bakery?’

Anna felt herself blushing. ‘I mean our bakery,’ she corrected him. ‘We’re married now, remember? Everything I have is yours.’

‘I do remember.’ He smiled. ‘So does that mean you’ll trust me to make decisions?’

‘Of course.’

‘And I won’t have to ask your permission?’

‘Whatever you think is best.’

‘And you won’t listen next time Mrs Church goes telling tales?’

‘I’ll tell her to mind her own business.’ Anna kissed him again. And this time he kissed her back.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The end of January brought a new intake of nurses to Walford House and as usual the residents had to shuffle around to make space for them. After escaping the Home Sister’s eagle eye for more than a year, Dulcie’s luck finally ran out and she was forced to give up the luxury of her single room to share with Grace Duffield.

Grace arrived on a damp, grey Sunday afternoon, dragging a trunk of belongings behind her.