It was difficult to hold back tears of frustration, but I had to. ‘Do you know how hard it’s been, growing up in the shadow of two such wonderful people? Now I have a chance to shine, and perhaps help some other mother’s son. Would you deny me that chance? Would you deny that mother of another wounded soldier the chance of getting him back alive? Please, the last thing I want to do is hurt you or Father, but you can’t keep me locked away, like a princess in a tower, forever. I know you love me and want to protect me, but I need to grow, Mother.’

Our eyes locked, wide and hard in an effort to hold back pain.

‘All right,’ Mother said quietly after a long silence. ‘I’ll help you.’

We went up to the attic, her sewing room, where she removed a crystal vase of dried honesty and a lace doily from the treadle-top, then set up the Singer. In the corner stood a wooden chest where Mother kept assorted linens and special materials. Next to that, a canvas-covered dressmaker’s form with a beautifully turned walnut neck and stand.

Together, we sewed the things I needed, finally embroidering my name on everything in neat chainstitch. We hardly spoke, both of us full of emotion. My name anchored, tightly stitching my spirit to those earthly things. So long as my name was there, it felt as though everything would work out.

I recall it was an odd list:

One calico bag – six feet four inches by three feet – to be filled with straw at camp.

A pillow-bag.

Two blankets.

A Macintosh rug, if available.

Two towels, a duster, and two tea cloths.

Besides these things I had to take a set of cutlery, a shoe brush, a bicycle or candle lamp, an enamel basin, cup, saucer, two plates, and a block of soap.

‘Here,’ Mother said. ‘Sissy would want you to have this, Gertie.’ She placed Sissy’s silver fob watch in my palm. My parents had bought it for her when she signed up to train as a nurse.

I read the inscription on the back. For our daughter, with love.

‘Oh, Mother, can’t you see that I have to take this step for Sissy too.’ Then, I was in my mother’s arms and we were both crying. ‘I’ll wear it for Sissy and treasure it always.’

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

SHELLY

Dover, present day.

DESPITE THE DUST AND GLOOM, a spark of excitement tingled as Shelly remembered a trunk of memorabilia under the bed. Better to go through that on her own in case it made her emotional. If there were any clues to her own personal tragedy in there, she didn’t want Eve seeing them.

A moment passed before Shelly realised the kitchen phone was ringing. She hurried downstairs and picked up.