What’s watercress? thought Nora, who could of course imagine the letter ‘R’ in her thoughts without a problem.

It seemed as though the whole village had turned out for the bonfire. Freddie was waving a lighted sparkler while a concerned Florence and a delighted Lily looked on.

‘I’ll get a soft drink for him before the bonfire is lit,’ said Lily and hurried over to the refreshment tent.

Tom was there and he came over to talk to her. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘I’m just getting a drink for Freddie.’

Tom saw the little boy standing next to Florence. ‘I’ll bring over two cups for you and your mother.’

Vera was at the other end of the trestle table with Doris Clutterbuck, serving soup, and she looked up at Tom and Lily. As they walked away into the darkness Vera thought she was beginning to see Lily in a new light: perhaps this was the beginning of a shy attraction. Who can tell how love begins? she thought. A glance, a touch, a smile, a word. She wondered if it would ever happen to her and how Joseph would cope without her. Her brother was an innocent in a guilty world and she knew he wouldn’t survive without her guiding hand.

Outside the refreshment tent Edna Trott and Irene Gubbins were sharing their thoughts.

‘She’s not backwards in comin’ forwards, is that Miss Briggs,’ said Edna.

‘Y’reight there, Edna, y’wouldn’t mess wi’ ’er.’

‘An’ Mr Grinchley said ’e saw ’er wi’ that nice-lookin’ policeman what drives ’is own police car.’

‘Fancy that,’ said Irene.

‘’E reckoned ’e’d ’eard they were goin’ to t’pictures in York.’

‘Were they ’oldin’ ’ands?’

‘Ah think it’s a bit early f’that, don’t you?’

Irene recalled her courtship days. ‘Not if ’e’s owt like my ’Enry.’

In the circle of villagers standing close to the bonfire, Billy Icklethwaite was talking to Freddie. Lily returned with a cup of orange juice and Tom followed on with two mugs of tea.

‘For you, Mrs Briggs,’ he said with a smile.

Florence studied the tall policeman for a moment and offered a hesitant ‘Thank you.’ She frowned at Lily with a warning glance.

Suddenly Captain Forbes-Kitchener thrust a flaming torch into the bonfire and the flames roared up towards the guy. The papier-mâché face with its black toothbrush moustache was an excellent likeness.

‘Cor, look at that!’ said Billy. ‘It’s ’Itler.’

‘So it is,’ said Tom.

Billy stared up at Lily. ‘My dad ’ates Germans, Miss. ’E said ’e were captured an’ put in a constipation camp.’

Lily looked thoughtful. ‘Concentration, Billy.’

Billy considered this for a moment. ‘But ah am concentratin’, Miss.’

Tom gave Lily a knowing smile.

‘Do you ’ate Germans, Miss?’ enquired the persistent Billy.

Lily sighed. ‘Well … not all of them. There’s good and bad everywhere in the world.’

‘Are y’sure, Miss?’