“If she said something rude, it was ignorance,” I said. “She’s crabbit, but she doesn’t mean to be hurtful.”

“Oh!” Louisa gasped, and I saw I’d hit close to truth. “It wasn’t Nan. It was that awful Intelligence officer going on about hoodoo! Why? Do I look like a fool-fool country gal? Is that because I’m only fifteen? Or because I’ve left school without finishing? Because I’m not doing a skilled job? Or is it just because I’m from Jamaica?”

She rattled the cups like a rebel. “My mum taught music in an English school. She played the harp at weddings, and the church organ for two different congregations. I hardly know what he meant, and anyway it’s Mrs. Campbell who’s superstitious, not me!” She waved at the coins over her head. “Have you heard her going on about these? ‘That’s dead men’s money. Leave it.’ She knows the name of every airman every penny belonged to. She talks as if they’re her own children!”

“I’ll wager she didn’t like that filthy Jerry leaving his wish up there with the rest,” I said. “Let’s take his penny out and see if she misses it.”

Louisa raised her eyes to the wooden beam.

She might not be superstitious, but she knew exactly which one of those silver wishes belonged to that Jerry pilot.

I saw where she was looking, and reached up to pick it between my fingernails. It had a raised rim and came out easily when I pulled on it.

I held it on my open palm so Louisa could see, and we stared.

It was no coin.

“That’s a typewriter key,” said Louisa.

It was a wee black enamel disc, just big enough to set your fingertip on, with a shiny, smooth nickel edge. The edge made a sort of lip around the key, like a pot lid. The letter on it was an L: L for Louisa.

And aye, yes, I am sure he chose it on purpose.

Louisa blinked up at the ceiling again, and I remembered Nan in the room above. We stood quiet as mice, listening, but she didn’t come down.

“It’s off that thing in the box,” Louisa whispered. “It was a sort of electrical typewriter. I saw inside it when he put it on the piano and the front fell open. The keys were just like that.”

I rolled the disk between my fingers. I wondered why he’d left it.

Louisa held out her hand, and I could see she wanted it for herself.

I dropped it into her palm. She closed her fingers like a gamekeeper’s iron trap snapping shut, and caught me frowning.

She said, “He played so beautifully.”

“You weren’t at all afraid,” I said, remembering how sick I’d felt. “You came along brave as a king going into battle.”