Nicole didn’t want to upset Mandy. The woman had been nothing but kind to her. ‘What about tomorrow?’

Mandy’s smile sparkled. ‘Tomorrow it is.’

After Mandy left, Nicole curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea. As she lay Ivy’s box in her lap, a sharp trill echoed through the large room. She looked at her phone. A Sydney number she didn’t recognise. All her editing work came through email, and only Mandy and Danny had her new number. It must be a call centre. Certainly not worth answering when she had other, more interesting things to focus her attention on.

She opened Ivy’s box and reached for the next letter, stopping as she fingered through the envelopes at the blaring red and yellow of another telegram. February, 1944.

Nicole held her breath.

‘I DEEPLY REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR HUSBAND SGT T WILSON PREVIOUSLY REPORTED MISSING IN ACTION IS NOW REPORTED KILLED IN ACTION DEEPEST CONDOLENCES LETTER TO FOLLOW MINISTER FOR THE ARMY 4 45 PM’

Tears streamed down Nicole’s face. No! No, no, no. It couldn’t end like this. Oh, Ivy.

To hell with her schedule and rationing. Nicole ripped open the next letter.

16th July, 1944

My Dearest Tom,

Life without you makes no sense. I have tried so hard to be stoic. I have endeavoured to come to terms with your loss and continue on, as life dictates I must. But I simply cannot let you go.

I have cried more than I thought possible these past few months and I have cursed God and screamed into my pillow at night. News of your passing should not have come as a surprise to me with you missing for so long, but I always held out hope. Always.

Now, that hope is gone. Now you are gone. And I am lost. What am I to do without you?

It is your birthday today. Happy Birthday, my darling. You are now thirty-eight, though you will not have aged a day. You will forever be the handsome young man all the girls swooned over and I shall go grey and get wrinkles. In years to come, when I show a photo of my husband, people will no doubt look twice at me trying to place the dashing next to the dashed and not quite making us fit. No matter. I will have the precious memories of when we did fit together beautifully, and I shall hold fast to them.

I planted a rosebush to mark the occasion. I hope I can nurture it to full bloom. Lucy made a delicious sponge cake to honour you and we blew out a candle for you. She spent the day with me, which I was concerned I would find hard to bear. I had been hoping to spend the day alone by the boatshed. However, it appears that on such a difficult day her company was a comfort to me.