‘I understand.’ He smiled. ‘But it’s good to see you in all lights, then I know what kind of mother-in-law I am getting.’

His laugh fell like a tin can on a stone floor. Wills reddened and went to apologize, but Cyrus stepped in. Smiling, he put his hand out to Wills. ‘I’m still learning about my wife, so it will be an evolving process for you, but I can promise you it is all good.’

At that moment Flors felt the pain of the chasm between her and Cyrus and wanted so much to go to him. As if this had been conveyed, he turned and put out his arms to her.

Rising, she went to him and gladly allowed him to enfold her. The door clicked. Wills was gone. Guilt filled Flors, but Cyrus kissed it away. ‘That’s a very special young man, with the perception of someone much older than himself. We’re so lucky to be getting him as a son-in-law.’

‘I know, Cyrus. I’m sorry. I was very rude to him. Will you go after him?’

‘No, that’s not what’s going to happen, or what he would expect. He made himself scarce as he saw that we just needed each other. I so need you, my darling.’

‘Oh, Cyrus, love my pain away.’

They clung to each other. A mixture of emotions assailed Flors. Most of them were painful ones at their loss, while some represented fear for Freddy and Randie. But a little joy seeped into her, as she knew that no matter what happened in life, Cyrus would always be there for her and she shouldn’t have shut him out – and also because her beloved Marjella was coming home.

It was almost Christmas by the time Marjie arrived. They’d said goodbye to Randie more than a month earlier, but it was thought he would need to work alongside Marjie for a time, in order to be able to take over the leadership of the Hérault Maquis.

Freddy had written often, and with much enthusiasm, about the advance of the Allied forces in North Africa, but of late his letters had been few and far between, as it was known that the Germans had the Allies pinned down, and they hadn’t yet reached Tunisia.

Over the weeks and months since hearing of Monty’s death, Flors had healed a little. She and Cyrus had been to the grave of their firstborn, Alice, in September and had put a heavy cast-iron vase on the side, to Monty’s memory. It bore the inscription: ‘We Live by the Decisions We Take. Remembering You Always as a Loving Son’; and underneath that, ‘Montague Harpinham 1922–42, RIP’.