‘Well, Mavis and Isobel, just so long as we’re very official when we get back to the station, eh?’

‘Oh yes, sir.’ Mavis gasped. ‘Of course.’

‘Now, Kate, if you can find us a quiet, out-of-the-way pub on the way back I’ll treat you girls to a spot of lunch.’

The atmosphere relaxed at once and soon Mavis had them in fits of laughter with stories about the antics her young brother had got up to in his efforts to join up at fifteen. ‘My mother wanted Dad to leather him, but Dad just smiled and said he wished he could join up again himself. He was in the last lot and got gassed . . .’

Kate was silent, but vague memories of her own father flickered through her mind; hazy pictures of an emaciated figure shaking uncontrollably. In her memories Danny was there and they were walking down the lane at home, one on either side holding the hands of the man they now knew had been the father of the them both.

Over lunch, Kate was amused to notice that Isobel positioned herself next to Philip, engaging him in conversation, tilting her head to one side coyly as she listened, intensely interested in whatever he was saying.

‘Well, ladies,’ he said at last, ‘I’m sorry to break this up, but we must be getting back . . .’

‘Oh, isn’t he nice?’ Mavis said later, when they had returned to camp.

‘Is he married?’ Isobel asked, and when Kate glanced at her, she saw a cool, calculating look in Isobel’s eyes.

‘I can’t find out anything,’ Mavis said in disgust. ‘Even Dave doesn’t know, and normally what he doesn’t know isn’t worth knowing! I know he comes from the York area, but honestly, that seems to be all anyone can find out about him.’

‘Mmm,’ Isobel said and her eyes took on a faraway look.

A week later a letter came from Danny containing anxious inquiries as to Kate’s safety. Although he was avoiding putting anything in writing directly, it was obvious he knew about the terrible raid on Suddaby airfield.

‘Please write back at once and let me know you’re safe.’ His concern gave her a warm glow, but in contrast the rest of his letter left her with the cold chill of being excluded from a happy event.

‘It was a shame,’ he wrote, ‘that you couldn’t get leave the same time as me. We had a great time.’

We, who was ‘we’? The next line made it clear.

‘I took Rosie dancing in town, or rather – if I’m truthful – Rosie took me! She really is a great kid and fun to be with. All the fellers are around her like bees round a honeypot, but she danced with me all evening and made an old man feel young again!’