Paul had never touched a dead person before. He wanted to argue with Rosie, because taking a wallet from a jacket seemed far less ghoulish than prising off rings.

‘Maybe we should leave him be,’ Paul said. ‘Out of respect.’

This annoyed Rosie and her natural bossiness surfaced. ‘I don’t know about you, Paul, but I haven’t got a cheque book or a bank account. A ring or a watch might buy us food or petrol on the road.’

‘OK,’ Paul said. ‘Don’t bite my head off.’

But he didn’t mind being angry with his sister. It gave him something to focus on while twisting the rings off his dead father’s hand. It took less than a minute for the pair to strip away everything of value.

Rosie stood up and handed Paul the gun. But she was older and bossier, and it seemed all wrong.

‘What do you want me to do with that?’ he asked, shaking his head fretfully.

‘Tuck it in your trousers,’ Rosie explained. ‘I’m wearing a summer dress. What am I gonna do, stick it up my bum?’

Paul pushed the gun down his trousers and pulled his shirt out to cover it over.

‘Let’s move,’ Rosie said coldly.

‘What about Dad’s body?’

‘Stick around feeling sorry if you want. But I don’t plan on being here when the planes come back.’

Paul was indignant. ‘How come you’re so heartless?’

‘I’m not heartless,’ Rosie snapped, as she grabbed Paul by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him in close. ‘Do you think I’m happy about this? Do you think I don’t feel like sitting on the kerb crying my eyes out? But the bombs dropping out of the sky are real, Paul. The German armies heading towards us are real. We’ve got to be strong because weak people are dying all around and nobody gives a damn.’

A tear streaked down Rosie’s cheek as she shoved her startled brother away.

‘Now you’ve made me cry,’ Rosie said aggressively, as she bent forwards and kissed her father’s forehead. ‘I can’t look at him any more.’

After the kiss, Rosie began to walk away. Paul hurriedly removed his father’s bloody cravat. Then he straightened the silk square by flicking it in the air and laid it over his father’s face. The wind would probably blow it away, but it was the only dignified gesture he could think of.

Paul felt weird as he realised he’d never see the face beneath the cravat again. For a moment he felt like he was going to shit his pants, but he managed to stand up and dash after his sister.

‘Rosie … Rosie! Wait!’

*