Angus coughed. Looking over towards him, Betsy saw him raise his eyebrows and knew that he was willing her to give her daughters her blessing. Oh God, how can I? How can I let them go? But then she had to admit that they would go anyway, and better they did so with her acceptance. They’d have enough to contend with, as it was.

‘Eeh, me girls. I knaw as you have to do this, and I want you to knaw as I’m proud of you all. When you each took up nursing as your chosen career, I were like a peacock fluffing me feathers and told anyone who’d listen what me girls were doing. And nursing the wounded is sommat as will be needed, if there is a war. But don’t forget: that’s what your Aunt Mags and her mates did in the last war, and from what she told me, there’s a lot for you to contend with out there and it ain’t the glamorous life I knaw you’re all anticipating. It’s blood and gore, and dodging randy men who haven’t their wives to keep them happy.’

All three girls, and Angus, burst out laughing at this. ‘Aw, Ma, you’re a one.’

‘It’s the truth, our Rosie. You mind me words. Aunt Mags has a terrible tale to tell of her time nursing the wounded. But then she made friendships that sustained her and have lasted her lifetime. Still, one thing pleases me – at least you’ll have each other.’

‘It’s not set in stone that we’ll stay together, Ma. Yes, we’ve all been accepted into the Queen Alexandra’s Nursing Corps, but they could send us anywhere.’