Ma Harris, though her eyes were fixed upon her son, remained motionless.

‘Come on, Ma. We’ve got to—’

Ma was shaking her head. ‘No, lass,’ she said quietly, so softly that Esther had to bend her head closer to hear what she said above the excited hubbub. ‘No, let him be. He’ll not thank me for interfering. Neither would his dad.’

‘Ma, you can’t let him go. He’s not old enough anyway.’

Ma shook her head ruefully. ‘That’ll not stop him – nor them taking him.’

‘Then I’ll tell them,’ and Esther made as if to push her way through the crowd towards the platform.

‘’Ere, who you shoving?’ The man in front of her turned round to see who was trying to elbow their way through. ‘Wait ya turn . . .’ When he saw it was a woman, he grinned and his tone changed. ‘Hello there, darling,’ he leered. ‘Want to do ya bit for King and country, eh?’

‘Let me through,’ Esther said, outraged. ‘One of the volunteers on the platform is under age and I mean to stop him.’

‘Oho, I can’t let you do that, me darling. If the lad wants to go, then—’

‘Get out of my way,’ Esther spat and pushed the man in the chest with the flat of her hand.

‘Esther, don’t—’ Ma Harris tried to intervene, but no one was listening to her.

At once anger replaced the man’s teasing tone and he grasped Esther roughly by the arms. ‘Oh no, you don’t . . .’

Esther cried out, more in frustration than in pain. She struggled and kicked the man’s shins. He gave a yell of pain and those close by now turned round to watch the scuffle.

‘Not a German, is he?’ some wag shouted, ‘having a go already?’

‘Let me go!’ Esther yelled again.

Suddenly there was Matthew standing before her. The fight went out of her instantly as she looked into his face. His eyes were dark with fury.

‘Leave her alone!’ Matthew said in a low, controlled voice that held more menace than if he had roared.

‘What’s it to do with you?’ asked the stranger, still holding Esther.

‘She,’ Matthew said with deliberation, ‘is my wife.’

The man let go of Esther as if she had burned him. ‘Aw, mate, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’m sorry . . .’ He turned and shouldered his way through the crowd, escaping before the vengeful husband could retaliate.

Matthew was not concerned about the man. He was glaring at Esther, who was rubbing her forearms where the man had gripped her. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

She returned his glare with equal rancour. ‘Making sure you don’t do anything stupid, like volunteering.’