Netta knelt down, slowly this time, to his level with tears in her eyes. Being so close to him and yet not to be able to hold him pierced her like a dagger. There was so much she didn’t know about him and he knew neither her smell nor her voice. To him she was just a pretty lady with a caseful of gifts. He was Gus, not Ray and suddenly fear twisted her stomach. Was he Peg’s baby not hers now? No, never!

Lots of parents were separated from their offspring by the war, she argued to herself. In refugee camps and prisons, children sent abroad to Canada and Australia and now returning on ships to England had been separated a lot longer than Gus and her. It would take them time to adjust, of course. I must go gently and not force myself on him, she decided. Peg would let her help with his care and get to know his routine. Netta would jiggle him on her lap and sing lullabies by his cot. It was not too late, please God, to be reunited with her own baby.

Netta’s knees were locked with cramp and she sat back on the floor to stretch them. Gus leaned over the side of his chair and saw her struggling to straighten her legs. He gurgled with curiosity at the funny lady’s yelping. For one second their eyes locked and she smiled at him through her tears. ‘What a silly mummy!’

‘Let’s have none of that,’ snapped Peg, whisking him out of the chair. ‘There’s only one mammy in this house – the one that’s fed and done for him night and day, who walked away his colic and sat up with him when he was sick. It’s no right to confuse the bairn. Away and unpack your suitcase if you’re staying… You can come and finish off the tatties for our tea while I see to his lordship.’

How could Netta answer back, for Peg was right on every score? Netta was the failure who’d had to be sent to an asylum while Peg alone coped with the nursing. Surely I have a right to come and take him away, though? She cried to herself. Yet I’ve frightened my baby and put Peg’s back up. Good start, Netta, ten out of ten, go to the top of the class!

Her knees buckled as she climbed those familiar stairs. All the thrill of the homeward journey, the walk in the wind, the disappointment of being unexpected and unwelcome, was exhausting. The Ray she had yearned for was a figment of her imagination. In the kitchen sat a very real Gus who knew her not. She sat on the carved oak landing chair like an old woman as Peg bustled around with nappies in the newly tiled bathroom.