‘I, er … I’ve been thinking of enlisting, as it happens.’ Seeing the look of horror on her mother’s face she rushed on. ‘Lots of girls are doing it. I mean, it’s not as if we’d be sent to the front like the men. They need people to work in the NAAFIs, as drivers or as radio operators, all sorts of things. What do you think?’

‘I think it’s a ridiculous idea,’ Sunday answered sharply.

‘But why? I mean I understand that the war hasn’t really affected us in the countryside yet, but we need every hand if we’re to win this war – men and women alike.’

Kathy had just come into the kitchen in time to hear what her sister said and after staring at them both for a moment she piped up, ‘Well, I think that’s an admirable idea. I’ll tell you now if I didn’t have the twins, I’d be signing up to work in one of the field hospitals.’

Sunday shot her a withering look, but Kathy stood her ground. ‘Livvy is right, Mum,’ she pointed out. ‘Women are already doing the jobs that their men did before they signed up so why shouldn’t Livvy be allowed to do her bit if she feels it’s right? She’s a grown woman and quite able to decide for herself what she wants to do.’

Livvy smiled at her gratefully as Sunday stood nervously wringing her hands. The children had become silent as they picked up on the tense atmosphere and eventually Sunday let out a long sigh. She knew when she was beaten and deep down she also knew that Livvy should be allowed to make her own decisions.

‘Then in that case I suppose it’s your choice. So, what will happen next?’

‘I think I’ll call into one of the enlisting offices in my dinner hour tomorrow to make a few enquiries.’

Her mother nodded. It seemed there was no more to be said.

Two days later Livvy enrolled in the WAAF. ‘I shall be going to London to do six weeks’ basic training,’ she told Kathy and her mother when she got home later that day. ‘Then if I pass, I’m going to put my name down to become a balloon operative.’

‘But won’t that involve being in dangerous places where barrage balloons need to be flown?’ Sunday asked in a croaky voice.

Livvy smiled. ‘I will have to do my training in London,’ she admitted. ‘But then I dare say we’ll get shifted about the country.’

‘And when will you have to leave?’

‘I should get my papers within the week.’ Livvy gave her mother’s hand an encouraging squeeze and John, who had popped in to bring some winter vegetables from the cottage garden, gave her a broad smile.