Viv had warned Grace she’d be late that day with an errand to run, so Grace set aside the list of potential advertising lines she’d been considering and knelt beside him. She didn’t bother to ask if she could help, knowing he would decline. Instead, she cut a strip of the tape, moistened the back and slicked it onto the glass, following his same careful pattern.

He looked at her, studying her a moment with his tender blue eyes, then gave a grateful smile.

“I thought your mum couldn’t abide taped windows?” Grace cut off another length of scrim.

“It will ensure you all remain safe.” Colin smoothed his large hand over the piece Grace had attached, pressing out the tiny bubbles of air. “You should see what I’ve done to her remaining flowers.”

Grace’s mouth fell open. “You don’t mean you’ve...dug for victory?”

Ever since October, the government had been announcing the need for flower beds to be torn up and replaced with vegetable patches in their bid for “digging for victory.” Though the rationing Mrs. Weatherford had sworn would come had not been implemented as yet, the call for an abundance of home-grown vegetables was indicative of its impending announcement.

That didn’t mean Mrs. Weatherford was ready to have her few thriving roses and hyacinths plucked from her beloved garden.

Colin nodded slowly, his gaze skimming over his handiwork. “I’m not familiar with vegetables, but I read the manual and tried as best I could.” He lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug.

“You could have asked Viv,” Grace said. “She lived on a farm before coming here.”

“That’s exactly why I did it when she wasn’t here.” Colin got to his feet and started on the upper portion of the window. “She’s always so put together. I couldn’t have her out in the garden, buried in dirt and ruining her nails.”

Grace rose from the ground alongside Colin. Her head came only to his chest, making her far too short to reach the windows stretching high up the wall.

“And you know she’s too stubborn to take no for an answer.” Rather than try to attach a piece herself, she cut and moistened a length before handing it to Colin.

He grinned as he accepted the scrim. “You said it, not me.”

“Has your mother seen the garden yet?” Grace uncurled another piece of the adhesive paper from its roll.

He shook his head. “She’s joined the local Women’s Voluntary Service and has gone to her first meeting. No doubt we’ll know when she sees it.”

He looked out the window, studying the street below, and the mirth faded from his expression. “She’s going to need help while I’m gone, Grace.”

“I’ll be here,” she vowed.