‘Everything’s dangerous these days, Florrie. Even us sitting here in the heart of London, enjoying pie and peas. But we’re not fully sure what we’ll be doing, so we can’t tell you much.’

‘That sounds ominous. I thought, with us going to an island that hadn’t seen any trouble, Rosie safe in Herne Bay and you two tucked away in Lincolnshire, we’d all make it through this nightmare.’

‘Well, like you, we want to help the nightmare end. We don’t know yet what we are going to be asked to do, only that our language skills will be useful.’

They all fell quiet, each with their own thoughts, wondering about the uncertain future. A sigh from Marjie broke the silence. ‘It is a terrible nightmare. The uncertainty is the worst thing.’

The sisters all looked at each other. Sibbie could see they were a little shamefaced. Yes, they were doing their bit, and so were their half-brothers – Billy, who was away from home, and Roderick, who’d stepped up and was working tirelessly with the lifeboat crew, going out with them whenever he could, not to mention fishing on a daily basis, a very dangerous occupation. – But they knew their mum and stepfather were safe up in Scotland, just as she did. None of them had to face what Marjie had to contend with.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. Look, this is meant to be a happy occasion that we can all remember – especially you sisters – and I’ve dampened it.’

‘Naw, lass. It’s good to share our worries. And you have more than most,’ Rosie said as she gave Marjie a hug. ‘Eeh, I’m glad I’ve met you, Marjie. We’ve heard so much about you that I feel we knaw you. Anyroad, we’re all rooting for your family. And whatever it is you are assigned to, don’t forget that if it’s near London, I’m only at Herne Bay. I can come and meet the pair of you any time. I can be in London in half an hour.’

‘That would be lovely, Rosie.’ Marjie gave her a smile.

Holding Marjie’s hand, Sibbie decided to change the subject. ‘Anyway, there must be good news on the horizon. Has any of you any love-life to report?’

‘That means you have, Sibbie. By, I can see it on your face. Who is he? One of them Canadian pilots?’

‘No, Florrie. Not nearly warm. What about you, Rosie – you’re blushing. You have, haven’t you? You’ve fallen in love; come on, tell.’

‘Er, well . . . Naw, I ain’t. There’s naw time for that; it’s work, work, work. But I can see, as Florrie says, that you’ve been up to sommat.’

‘Paulo! Paulo loves me.’

All three clapped their hands together. ‘Oh, Sibbie, I’m right pleased for you, lass. You’ve carried a torch for Paulo for a long time.’