‘Well, that’s nice – as long as it is nice things, and not anything that requires her to be brave. Thinking of which, I can’t wait to see my very brave friends.’

As they walked down the steps, Beth looked up at Jerome. ‘Dada.’ Her hands stretched up to him indicating that she wanted him to lift her up and carry her.

It was Jerome’s turn to have tears in his eyes as he bent down to pick her up.

‘You have two dadas, little Beth. One is looking down on you from heaven, and I will care for you and cherish you always.’

As Beth looked heavenwards, following Jerome’s pointed finger, Mags did, too. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. Oh, Montel . . . Montel. I know you will approve, but I miss you.

A hand came into hers. She looked into Jerome’s beloved face. ‘Take comfort, darling Mags, Montel is always with us.’

The ‘us’ meant so much to her. ‘Thank you, darling Jerome. Thank you for understanding.’

As they neared the village of Laurens in Hérault, Mags pondered on all she’d learned from Flors in her letters, and couldn’t believe that she was to meet up with Ella, too. And that Ella was married – well, for the third time.

To think that Ella had gone through the death of her first husband, Paulo, a French soldier just like Montel, and had then been forced to marry Shamus, a gangster and murderer who had been hanged for his crimes just a couple of years ago. The whole story was so moving and showed Ella’s courage.

The journey’s end was along a dirt track of a road, with the most beautiful chateau appearing on the skyline as they rounded a bend.

In no time, Mags was in the arms of both Flors and Ella. All three were crying. All three had suffered greatly during their time in Brussels, and since they had escaped and come home back in 1915, as fresh-faced young women with an experience behind them that had scarred their generation. But all three had found happiness. Lasting, loving happiness. And at last they were reunited.

Around them children danced. Mags was introduced to them – Flora’s Freddy, Randolph, Marjella and Monty, and Ella’s son, Paulo – before being swept into the arms of Cyrus, Flors’s husband, and then introduced to Ella’s husband, Arnie.

So many memories assailed Mags, but she reflected that yes, a terrible war had been fought during 1914–18 and at an appalling cost to life, but it had brought her and Flors and Ella together. And it had meant that for their little ones, and for Betsy’s soon-to-be five children and Susan’s one child, there was a lifetime of peace ahead of them.

A shudder seized her as this last thought came to her, and concern for Mags caused a bustle of activity as she and Jerome and little Beth were ushered to the shade, where there was a huge wooden table surrounded by dozens of chairs. On the table were bottles of wine and fruit juice.