Maude nodded grimly. ‘I think it’s best you do. You can use the phone in the NAAFI. Come on, I’ll show you where it is.’

Olivia followed her friend. Her father had always said that he had done what he thought best at the time, yet the last time she had seen him he had said he was sorry. She had assumed he was apologising for his rude behaviour at the hospital, but now she wasn’t so sure. Could it be that finally his conscience was getting the better of him? She dismissed the thought. Her father didn’t have a conscience, and she could hardly see him developing one after all these years, not unless … If her father thought he was dying, could that be enough to make him see things in a different light? The common-sense side of her spoke up. Why be so evasive about where the baby was buried or cremated, unless it hadn’t actually happened? The more she thought about it, the more Maude’s explanation made sense.

She picked up the phone and spoke to the operator. There was a brief pause before a woman’s voice came down the receiver from RAF Speke.

‘Can I speak to Ted – I mean Corporal Edward Hewitt, please?’

Olivia waited patiently as the woman placed a hand over the receiver and called out for Ted.

Olivia crossed her fingers, praying that Ted wasn’t too busy to come to the phone, then smiled when she heard his familiar voice.

‘Is that you, Toff?’

Olivia opened her mouth to speak, but the enormity of what she was about to say rendered her temporarily speechless.

Ted’s voice came again. ‘Toff? Are you there?’

‘I’m here,’ she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

‘What’s happened?’ Ted asked urgently. ‘Have you had an accident? Is it one of the girls …’

‘I’m fine,’ said Olivia, quickly adding, ‘and so are the girls – it’s not that.’

‘Then what is it?’ said Ted. ‘Because you sound as though you’ve the weight of the world on your shoulders.’

Olivia was surprised that her voice had given so much away when she had hardly uttered a word; she supposed it was a reflection on her connection with Ted. She drew a deep breath. ‘I was in the queue at the cookhouse with Maude and we were talking about Dad’s red herring …’

‘I take it you’re referring to our trip to Glasgow?’