Kate started up as footsteps sounded hollowly on the concrete stairs outside. Then Philip came into the Control Room. He glanced immediately at the board, just as she had done, and then his gaze came around slowly to rest upon her huddled miserably in the corner.

Ignoring the rule-book once more and how it would look to those in the Control Room, Philip touched her shoulder, his voice firm yet infinitely tender. ‘Come on, Kate.’

Stiffly, Kate eased her aching limbs from their locked position and, with his arm about her shoulders, allowed herself to be guided down the narrow stairs.

Outside, to the east, the sky was growing lighter. Dawn would be casting its soft glow over Fleethaven, she thought, silhouetting the cottages, rousing the sleepy occupants to another day. Soon, at home, they would be rising, her mother first, then Jonathan, and the day’s work would begin.

And Beth. In her cottage she would be first to rise, perhaps taking Rosie a cup of tea in bed. Perhaps they would speak of Danny. Of course they would speak of Danny. But did they know, could they guess, the agony she, Kate, was going through at this very moment? Did they, too, watch the sky night after night, hearing the aircraft droning overhead, and wonder if somewhere in the vast dark sky was Danny up there? Did they lie awake waiting, listening for the return?

Walking along beside Philip, she thrust her hands deep into her pockets and felt the whelk shell. She gripped it until the point dug into her palm. Was this really all she would have left of Danny now? She would keep it with her always, she vowed, until he was safely home . . .

In the seclusion of his office, Philip took her in his arms. She clung to him, burying her head against his smart commanding officer’s uniform, her tears making mottled damp patches on his shoulder. Her held her tightly, stroking her hair, but saying nothing.

She drew back a little and looked up at him, his features blurred through her tears. ‘I’ll have to go home,’ she stuttered. ‘I must t-tell – Rosie.’

Gently he wiped the tears from her face, but could not stem the flow.

His voice was flat and heavy as he said quietly, ‘Yes, my dear. I’ll arrange it for you.’

Thirty-Four

‘Why, Katie love!’ The joy on Beth Eland’s face at seeing her was unmistakable, but then she saw Kate’s solemn face, the anxiety in her eyes. Beth’s hand flew to cover her mouth which formed a silent ‘oh’. Then she reached out and drew Kate into the kitchen.

‘What is it?’

Kate looked into the older woman’s face. Gently, she took hold of her hand and said, ‘Is Rosie here?’

Beth nodded. ‘She – she’s lying down. She gets very tired. She’s only a few weeks to go . . .’

‘Can you fetch her?’