‘I’m sorry to say this, Cissie, but I think he’s playing you for a fool. He knows you feel guilty for not being there to bring him up – through no fault of your own, may I add – and he’s out to bleed you dry. Well, it’s gone quite far enough now. If he comes back asking for more money I shall deal with him next time – whether he’s your son or not!’ Then as Cissie’s hot tears brimmed over and spilled down her cheeks, his voice gentled. ‘Look, pet, you must realise that this can’t go on? Hugh is young, fit and healthy. He could work for a living if he had a mind to, or even enlist in the Army. God knows he’s the right age, but he won’t make any effort while you keep supporting him, will he?’ George was secretly devastated that Hugh had milked them of such a huge portion of their life’s savings, and yet he could understand why Cissie had indulged him. He would probably have done the same had he been in her shoes, but enough was enough and now he intended to put a stop to the man’s sponging. It would be interesting to see if Hugh still bothered with Cissie then, when he had nothing to gain from her but her love.

‘But what shall I say if he comes asking for me?’ Cissie was wringing her hands together. ‘He usually comes when he knows you will still be over at Treetops.’

‘Just tell him that I’ve moved the rest of our money and you don’t know where it is,’ George advised. ‘Then he’ll have to come and ask me for it – and believe me he’ll get short shrift. Will you do that for me?’

She nodded. ‘Of course, but I’m hoping he won’t come asking again.’ She pottered away to put the kettle on then as George pretended to go back to reading his newspaper.

It seemed no time at all before the day of Ben’s departure dawned, and after saying tearful goodbyes to everyone at Treetops, Sunday and Tom drove him to the Trent Valley railway station. Their hearts were heavy. However, they were surprised when they arrived there to find an almost carnival atmosphere. A brass band was playing outside and young men with happy smiling faces were enjoying being the centre of attention. They looked as if they were going on holiday or on some great adventure rather than to fight in a war, and were clearly relishing being treated as heroes.

The platform was teeming with all the newly enlisted boys, some looking not old enough to be going, Sunday secretly thought. And then suddenly they heard the train chugging into the station, belching smoke and steam, and the faces of the women fell and tears began to spill as they hugged their menfolk to them. Who knew if they would ever come home again.