‘I want to come to the station with you,’ she shouted, longing to delay their parting but he shook his head as he blew her a kiss.

‘No, it’s better we do it here. You go back inside now and know that I’ll be thinking of you every minute.’ He nodded to George then and the car drove away as Sunday stood there sobbing helplessly.

Three days later, things improved somewhat when the front door opened as Sunday was sorting through the mail. She knew it was too soon for Tom to have had a chance to write and yet she still found herself waiting for the postman each morning. She glanced over her shoulder then dropped the letters as she saw Ben standing there, looking handsome in his uniform.

‘Oh, sweetheart …’ Sunday flew into his arms and he was thrilled at her welcome. Now he knew that, at last, they were back on their old footing. Laughing, he picked her up and swung her round as Lavinia hurried from the day room wondering what all the commotion was about.

‘Ben!’ She too rushed to greet him and there were tears of joy on the women’s faces when they finally drew apart.

‘You look such a fine young man in uniform,’ Lavinia teased and Ben blushed. ‘Come on, you must be starving and longing for a drink.’ Lavinia linked her arm through his and hauled him towards the kitchen.

‘Now don’t start feeding me up,’ he chuckled. ‘I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks.’

‘Even so, you look thinner,’ Sunday commented, eyeing him up and down.

Soon he was seated at the kitchen table with them all fussing over him. ‘So how was the training?’ Sunday asked as she poured him a second cup of Cook’s home-made ginger beer.

Ben’s smile vanished. ‘It was all right. We were taught how to use our rifles and spent half the time stabbing sandbags and shooting at targets. That was fine, though I’m not so sure how I shall feel having to stab or shoot a human being if it comes to it,’ he admitted. This gave the others pause for thought.

They had a good old gossip then as Sunday told him all about what had happened to Cissie.

‘Has she remembered yet who it was that attacked her?’ Ben was horrified. The womenfolk wouldn’t be safe with a maniac like that about.

Sunday shook her head. ‘No. The last thing she remembers is leaving here that evening to go back to the cottage … and then everything after that is a blank. George is convinced that it was Hugh, her son, who did it – but seeing as he’s disappeared off the face of the earth we’ll never know. It does look rather suspicious though, him clearing off like that, don’t you think?’

‘I hope it wasn’t him,’ Ben commented. ‘It would break Cissie’s heart. She was so thrilled when she finally tracked him down. And at least she’s recovering now, which is the main thing.’