‘I suppose we shall have to go,’ he said reluctantly, some time later. He got up and held out his hands to help her up. Standing, he pulled her close to him, searching her face, pale in the moonlight. Gently he bent down and kissed her forehead and then her mouth. Kate put her arms about his waist, hugging him to her. It had happened so suddenly, and yet so naturally; she had no regrets.

They had begun to walk across the field, their arms about each other, when they heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.

‘Come on, we’d better hurry. If they spot the car, they might stop.’

They reached the edge of the field as the RAF policeman got out of his jeep and slid down the sloping grass verge towards the staff car, nose first in the ditch.

‘It’s okay, we’re here,’ Philip called, holding aside the hedge for Kate to squeeze through.

A torch was shone in their faces and then flicked off quickly. ‘Oh, sorry, sir. Are either of you hurt?’

‘No, we’re fine. There was an air-raid. A bomb fell on the road in front of us and we landed up in the ditch and then took cover in the field. We thought it safest to get right away from the car.’

‘Of course, sir. Can I give you a lift back?’

‘Yes, please. I just want my bag out of the car . . .’

‘I’ll get it, sir.’

He held open the door of his jeep for Kate and Philip to climb in, closed the door, retrieved Philip’s bag and returned to his own vehicle. ‘If you say there’s been a bomb up ahead, sir, I’d better go another way. Is that all right, sir?’

‘Fine.’ The jeep’s engine burst into life and under cover of its noise, Philip whispered, ‘Take as long as you like.’ In the darkness, he reached for Kate’s hand and held it until they had passed through the gates of Suddaby Station.

The next morning, with a fresh staff car, Kate drew up outside the CO’s office. Before she could get out of the car to open the rear door for him, Philip came bounding out and got into the front seat of the car, slamming the door and grinning at her. For one dreadful moment she thought he was going to kiss her there and then in front of the whole station, but instead, he leaned back against the leather seat, stretched his long legs, and gave a self-satisfied sigh.

‘Drive.’

‘Sir – shouldn’t you – er – sit in the back?’

‘Drive! Into the country.’

An impish smile curved her mouth. ‘Where?’ she asked in an innocent tone. ‘To the nearest cornfield?’

‘Shameless hussy!’ But he was smiling fondly at her as he said it.

Confused now, she bent to touch the starter button. ‘Sir – you really shouldn’t look at me like that.’