Heaving herself up, she staggered inside leaving the bucket and scrubbing brush exactly where they were. And then she sank down onto the nearest chair and slowly slit the envelope open.

It is with deep regret that we write to inform you that your son, Private Arthur James Partridge, was killed in battle …

The telegram fluttered to the floor and tears rained down her face as she thought of her beloved boy, her firstborn, so smart in his Army uniform, and her chest swelled with pride. Her son had died a hero.

Chapter Forty-Nine

June 1915

‘I sometimes think this war is never going to end,’ Sunday said mournfully, as she stood staring from the drawing-room window at Treetops Manor.

‘Well, at least we are safer here than most places,’ her mother remarked, looking up from her sewing. ‘According to the newspapers, those Zeppelin airships are causing havoc and death all over the country. And that new poisonous gas the Germans are using can blind you or send you mad by all accounts.’

She instantly wished she could retract what she had just said as Sunday burst into tears. She knew that her daughter worried about Tom and Ben all the time. There was no chance of either of them being granted any leave in the circumstances.

‘What you must think is that no news is good news,’ Lavinia said, trying to inject some lightness into her tone.

‘But I haven’t heard a word from either of them for months,’ Sunday fretted.

Lavinia raised an eyebrow. ‘You should know by now how long it’s taking for everyone’s mail to get through. You’ll probably get a glut of letters when they do arrive.’

Sunday nodded, knowing that her mother was right. Somehow she just had to get on with things and continue praying that the war would soon be over. Compared to many of the families in town who had received the dreaded telegrams informing them that their loved ones would not be returning, she knew that she was very fortunate. But it was so hard …

In Chelsea, Kitty was also feeling depressed. Maggie had gone to visit Mrs Partridge with a basket of goodies as she often did these days, since they had received news of Arthur’s death. It was so hard to believe that the lad had been killed when he’d had his whole life ahead of him – but then the war was wicked.

Since being presented with the white feather, Richard had kept out of sight although Kitty still regularly visited the studio to entertain his friends. She had thought that the shame of being exposed as a coward would force him into enlisting, but that hadn’t been the case. If anything, he was even more adamant now that he would never go to fight. Rather than have an end in sight the war seemed to be escalating and it appeared that no one was safe now, be they on land or on the sea. But life went on with many women in Britain now taking on the men’s roles full time. It was common now to see women driving buses, working in factories or as clerks or farmhands. Kitty sometimes wished she could do something to help and she mentioned it to Richard.