Mal Bright, one of the fishermen, stopped and offered to help us. His son, Sam, had been killed in the evacuation of Dunkirk. He had been hit by machine-gun fire trying to help a soldier out of the water.

‘Thank you, Mr Bright,’ Mags said, as Mal held the plank of wood steady across the window frame. My sister hammered it into place, knocking nails into the corners.

‘I was wonderin’,’ Mal said. ‘It’s my boy’s funeral on Friday. Sam’s funeral.’

Mags stopped hammering. I stopped scrubbing at the paint.

‘I was wonderin’, because you won’t be able to have a funeral as such, if you two would like it to be a memorial for your dad too?’

Mags looked at me properly for the first time in days. I was suddenly aware of my sunburnt neck, my hot, tear-stained face. I nodded.

‘Yes,’ Mags said. ‘That’s kind of you, Mr Bright. I think we would like that very much.’

Chapter 32

32

Friday was cooler that the rest of the week had been – the white clouds looked as if they had been combed upwards by the stiff breeze. I put on my smartest dress and brushed down my old black coat.

Mrs Baron and Michael were waiting in the church porch when we arrived. I noticed that Michael’s gaze followed my sister from the church gate, all the way through the churchyard. I looked at Mags, trying to see whatever it was that he seemed to see. She was wearing a coat of Mutti’s. With its belted waist and buttoned collar, and her hair all up with pins, I suppose she did look a bit more grown-up than usual.

They greeted us and Mrs Baron gave us both a little hug and a pat on the back. She’s not such a bad old stick, I thought, remembering how angry Mags had been with her in the wake of the ‘Peacock and the Pied Piper’ incident. She isn’t an old dragon at all. She just wants us to be safe.

‘I need to talk to you afterwards, please, girls,’ she said, readjusting herself after our hugs and tucking a strand of hair back beneath her smart black hat. ‘I’ve got a bit of good news for you.’

Good news? To do with being evacuated? Did we really have to talk about that today?

Mags looked away, stony-faced. I tried to smile politely at Mrs Baron as we turned to enter the church, but I suspect my face may have been grimacing.