For a long moment there was silence in the room. Kate bit her lip uncertainly. An overwhelming longing to comfort him made her start forward, her hand fluttering towards him to touch him, but in that instant she remembered just who he was and where they were.

‘Sir,’ she prompted gently. ‘Your – your train?’

He lifted his head and looked up at her and, for a long moment, their gaze held. Then he sighed deeply and rose slowly as if his limbs were leaden. ‘Let’s go,’ he said flatly, without a shred of enthusiasm in his voice.

As she saw him on to the train, he said. ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back, Kate, but I’ll try to send word for you to meet me.’ He looked at her oddly for a moment, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Suddenly he clasped her hand briefly. ‘Take care of yourself while I’m gone . . .’ Then he turned swiftly away from her, leaped on to the train and slammed the door behind him.

Kate was thoughtful as she walked out of the station. His behaviour was puzzling. Mavis had said he was married and yet Philip seemed to avoid mentioning his wife and children – if, indeed, he had any. But if he had been called home on compassionate leave – a man in his position – then someone close to him must be seriously ill.

As she walked along the platform, she saw two women in WVS uniform setting up a trestle-table with a tea-urn, cups and saucers. She looked closely at them but they were strangers; Miss Ogden was not one of them this time.

Outside the station, heavily protected by sandbags piled up either side of the entrance, she moved towards where the staff car was parked. She hesitated. There was no need for her to rush back to camp. Officially, she was off-duty now that she had driven Philip to the city to catch his train. She wouldn’t be missed for an hour or so. Kate bit her lip and glanced up the hill towards the cathedral standing sentinel over the city sprawling down the hill beneath it. Almost without her making a conscious decision, her steps took her up High Street and through the Stonebow. As the road began to rise she took a turning to the left in the direction where she believed the school was. All the time she’d lived in Lincoln she had never ventured anywhere near.

It was time to lay to rest a few more ghosts from her childhood.

She stood before the place where the school had been and gazed at the ruins before her. On either side the buildings, though damaged, were still standing. It looked as if the school had received a direct hit.

A woman came trudging up the hill, carrying a heavy shopping basket, a child dragging at her skirt.

‘Excuse me . . .’ Kate began.