‘It’s all right, boy,’ he soothed, although he was trembling himself. Skippy stared at him trustingly. He wasn’t the prettiest of dogs, if truth be told: his legs were short and squat and he had one ear that pointed to the sky, while the other hung flat against his head. His tail was bushy like a fox’s and his body looked out of proportion with the rest of him, but all the same Bobby loved him unconditionally and had missed him while he had been away.

‘It’s just you an’ me now,’ he muttered, wiping tears and snot from the end of his nose with the back of his sleeve. ‘Ma’s gone an’ she can’t come back.’ Strangely enough he felt no sorrow at the loss of his father. He had been a bully and Bobby was relieved that he would never have the chance to take his belt to him again … but his ma … Oh, his ma. He had loved her unreservedly and he knew that things would never be the same without her.

What would happen to him and Peggy now? he wondered. Would they be shoved into some orphanage until they were old enough to look after themselves? It was a fearful thought and he shuddered, as yet another bomb dropped dangerously close to where he was hiding. This time he could hear the sound of houses collapsing around him and breaking glass and now the air was so full of soot and smoke he could hardly breathe or see more than a few feet ahead. In the distance he could hear the sound of fire engines, for what good they could do, and men shouting, and now venturing from the doorway he urged the dog out behind him. A little further down the street, or the remains of it, he found a length of rope, which he tied round Skippy’s neck.

‘Come on,’ he urged above the wail of the dropping bombs. The ack-ack guns didn’t seem to be having much success. ‘We ’ave to find us somewhere safer to ’ide.’

Bricks were scattered all across the road and within minutes he had slipped so many times his hands and knees were skinned but still he kept doggedly on, praying that the train station hadn’t been hit. If the trains were still running at least then there was a chance that he could slip onto one and get himself and Skippy away from the city. As he ran, he briefly thought that this must be the hell his Sunday school teacher had told him about. Fire and deafening noise all around him.