They reached the short parade of shops, all in darkness, then turned down the narrow alleyway that led to the rear of the shops. Lights glowed in a couple of the windows, casting shadows across the cobbled yards.

‘Looks like your mother’s waiting for you,’ Mr Hudson said.

‘Looks like your wife’s waiting for you, too.’ Anna nodded towards the light coming from the window next door.

‘With a rolling pin, I daresay!’ Mr Hudson gave a long-suffering sigh. ‘Oh, well, I’ll be seeing you, love.’

‘Goodnight, Mr Hudson.’

I mustn’t bear a grudge, Anna told herself. But she couldn’t help a little smile when Mr Hudson slithered on the wet cobbles and ended up sprawled face down on his doorstep.

Anna let herself in her own back gate, lowering the latch quietly. When she looked through the window she could see her mother at the kitchen counter, kneading a batch of bread dough, her shoulders hunched over the task.

She looks tired, Anna thought, as her mother straightened up to tuck a lock of fair hair under her headscarf. Years of strain had taken their toll on her beautiful face, leaving it lined, grey and exhausted.

Dorothy Beck turned as Anna let herself in through the back door.

‘Hello, love.’ she greeted her with a weary smile. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

‘I told you I’d come.’ Anna shrugged off her coat. The kitchen was bright and blissfully cosy from the ovens, the warm air fragrant with the smell of baking bread.

‘Yes, but not in this weather.’ Her mother’s gaze moved towards the rain streaming down the window pane. ‘You’ll catch your death.’

‘It’s you I’m worried about.’ Anna put her coat over the chair closest to the fire. ‘You look exhausted. Why don’t you sit down and rest?’

‘I can’t, there’s too much to do.’ Her mother looked down at the mound of bread dough on the wooden counter in front of her. ‘I’ve only just got the first batch in.’

‘That’s why I’m here.’ Anna rolled up her sleeves and reached for her apron, hanging on a hook on the back door.

‘But you’ve had a long day too,’ her mother protested. ‘It’s not fair to ask you to come here after your shift and help with the baking.’

‘You’re not asking, I’m offering.’ Anna went to the big stone sink to wash her hands. The cold water stung her skin, and the scent of the red carbolic soap reminded her of the Nightingale Hospital. ‘We all have to work together to keep this place going. And since Liesel went off to be a Land Girl …’ Anna pulled a face. She still hadn’t forgiven her younger sister for abandoning them and going off to work on a farm in the wilds of Essex three months earlier, leaving their mother to cope on her own.

Dorothy seemed to read her thoughts. ‘You mustn’t blame her,’ she said. ‘She’s young, it’s only fair that she should be allowed to spread her wings—’