I remember watching Mrs Baron as she was speaking to us all, and deciding that if she were a bird, she would probably be a kestrel. She was wearing her usual tweed suit with a pearl-coloured scarf around her neck. Her hair was done up in a neat bronze twist, and her narrow grey eyes darted about as she spoke. Mrs Baron was probably the busiest lady in Stonegate. She and her son Michael had moved to our village from London about three years ago and she had swiftly become what Pa called ‘a pillar of the community’. Not only was she the headmistress of our school but she was also a magistrate at the court in Dover.

‘So,’ she was saying, ‘I shall, for the time being at least, be the village’s Air Raid Precaution, or ARP, warden.’

‘What?’ a voice called out rudely from the back. ‘ARP warden? As well as headmistress and Justice of the flamin’ Peace?’ It was Arthur Briggs, Kipper’s father.

‘Yes, Arthur,’ Mrs Baron replied, deploying the tolerant smile she usually reserved for the children who shouted out stupid things in class. ‘Unless you fancy the job, of course?’

‘You’re welcome to it, I’m sure,’ muttered Briggs, adding a sarcastic ‘M’lady’ under his breath. Then I heard him mutter to Kipper, ‘Fingers in too many pies, that one . . . She’ll be Queen of flamin’ England next.’

Very wisely, Mrs Baron chose to ignore Arthur Briggs and was now pressing on with instructions on how to use the gas masks, but I found it very difficult to concentrate, because Mags was fanning herself, flapping her gas mask instructions right next to my face, and it kept making me blink. She seemed to be in a sort of trance, staring intently towards the front of the hall. I nudged her, and when she eventually looked at me, I swatted her gas mask instructions right out of her hand. Mags scowled and elbowed me hard in the ribs, making me squeak. I was immediately aware that Mrs Baron had stopped talking and was looking straight at me. My stomach went tight. Other people were turning to look at me now too.

‘This is no laughing matter, young lady,’ she said, pressing her lips together and shaking her head in disappointment. ‘This device could save your life, you know. Come along, Petra. Come up here and I’ll show you how it works.’

I squeezed past Mags, out of our row, and made my way to the front of the hall to stand beside Mrs Baron. I felt like a magician’s assistant about to be sawn in half. I hoped no one could see that my knees were shaking.