‘Do . . .’ Isobel began and then bit her lip. They were both aware that their conversation was being listened to with interest now by one or two of the others. ‘ . . . I mean . . .’ Isobel was still struggling, but Kate waited, saying nothing. She was not a vindictive girl, but Isobel’s taunts had cut deeply all those years ago and in the few days they’d been together again, Kate could see that Isobel had hardly changed. Her unkind attitude towards poor Edith had proved that.

She saw Isobel take in a deep breath. ‘Would you agree to call it quits and – and make a fresh start . . .’ Again she hesitated and then added, deliberately, ‘ . . . Kate?’

Kate picked up the shell, put it back in its place and closed the drawer. ‘Suits me . . . Isobel.’

She guessed that Isobel found it hard to apologize or even to admit she had been in the wrong, but the expression in the girl’s eyes and her muttered ‘Thanks,’ were enough for Kate. For her, one of the ghosts from the past had been confronted and laid to rest.

Two days later, Mavis said, ‘D’you know, Kate, I think m’Lady Isobel is really starting to get the hang of things. She’s really trying.’

‘Very trying, I should think,’ Kate laughed.

As they stacked their beds ready for kit inspection, Mavis asked, ‘Er, what was all that about the other morning between you and her?’

‘Oh, just a – a misunderstanding we had a while back. Best forgotten now.’

At that moment, saving Kate from having to answer more awkward questions, the door opened and the subject of their conversation came in, rubbing her hands together. ‘Does this awful place have to be so cold? It must be freezing point in these huts.’

She walked the length of the hut, flapping her arms around herself, and came to stand close to the stove. ‘How you can bear to sleep under that window, Kate, beats me.’

‘I always liked to be able to see out,’ Kate murmured, remembering the high, barred windows of the school dormitory. She glanced at Isobel, but the girl was touching the grey stove. ‘It’s cold!’ she accused. ‘Isn’t it even lit?’

‘Nope,’ Mavis said. ‘Not allowed to light it till five o’clock tonight.’

Isobel clicked her tongue against her teeth in exasperation and wrapped her arms around herself, tucking her hands under her armpits.

‘We could go out and drill,’ Mavis suggested impishly.

‘No thanks,’ Isobel replied shortly. She seemed about to move away and then hesitated and stopped. Her head dropped forward, her eyes downcast, she traced an imaginary pattern on the floor with the toe of her shoe. Without looking up and in a tone quite unlike her normal complaining voice, Isobel said, ‘Mavis, I’m very grateful for your help in the Control Room.’

‘Eh?” Mavis gawped at the bent head.