We sang one of my favourite hymns and two others that I didn’t know very well. The vicar spoke about those who had given their lives to help others, and those who risked their lives now as the war continued. He spoke about light and darkness, about fighting together and the importance of standing up to the evil in our world. He said some nice things about Pa’s work as a lighthouse keeper, and he spoke about Sam Bright being the best batsman on the village cricket team. Bright, I thought. Sam Bright, and my Pa and his lamp – both of them shining in the darkness. Mal Bright and his wife Sarah stood together in the pew opposite ours, his arm around her shaking shoulders. Sam had been their only child.

‘The two men we say goodbye to today were nothing less than heroes,’ the vicar said. I saw that there were tears running down my sister’s cheek and, instinctively, I linked my arm through hers. She didn’t pull away from me.

Heroes? I thought, and I felt Pa’s terrible secret flutter in my chest like a trapped bird. No, Pa was a traitor. But I will never tell. I will never tell anyone what I heard through the speaking tube that day. My ribs ached under the strain of it. You need to be strong, Pet. You just need to be brave and strong.

Outside the church, Mrs Baron was waiting for us, hovering near the memorial for the Great War. Michael wasn’t there – he must have gone home already.

‘What’s the good news?’ Mags demanded, buttoning up her coat. We were still some way down the path from Mrs Baron, and I had the feeling that my sister was going to make a scene. ‘Do we really have to talk about it right now, Mrs Baron?’

‘We’ve found space for you with a nice family in Wales,’ the headmistress replied, beaming at us both as we drew nearer. She seemed to be ignoring my sister’s second question, and the tone of her voice too. ‘Well, they’ve got room for Petra, and they think you, Magda, should be able to lodge at a nearby farm.’

‘We’d be living in different places?’ My sister had never been what you’d call protective, but I thought there was suddenly something fierce and maternal in her voice. On reflection, it was probably just fierce. This was Mags, after all.

‘Nearby, we hope. We can’t promise, but lodgings for you nearby do look possible.’