‘Somehow, we’ll sort it,’ he promised, for he too was more than a little fond of the young waifs they had taken in. ‘And you don’t need to go to London; I will. I don’t want to have to be worrying about you too. Plus, Peggy needs you here. The trouble is I just heard on the radio that all the lines into Euston are closed at the minute because of the bombing so I’m afraid we’re going to have to be patient until they’re up and running again.’

Frustrated, Edith nodded as she poured the tea and then they sat in silence, each trying to take in what poor little Peggy had confided. It was just too horrible to imagine what the child must have gone through. It also explained why Bobby was so protective of her. But now they were both determined that somehow they would ensure it never happened again.

Early the next morning, Sunday decided to give David and Kathy some time alone with the twins and called in to Treetops, where she found Edith bleary-eyed and tearful. George had taken Peggy to school as Edith felt that routine would be better for her than staying at home, and when Edith told her what Peggy had said the night before Sunday was just as horrified as she had been.

‘Poor little mite,’ she said. ‘The man should be put up against a wall and shot. Even animals will protect their own. But never you fear; her dad will get his comeuppance.’ Little could she know that he already had.

It was mid-morning when the phone rang, and Edith instantly flew into a panic as John hurried from his study to answer it.

Edith hovered, watching his expression closely and by the look on his face, she was sure it was news about Bobby and her heart began to thud painfully.

‘Yes, yes of course,’ he said eventually. ‘I shall be there as soon as I possibly can. Good day and thank you.’

Slowly he replaced the receiver and turned to Edith and Sunday, his expression grave.

‘That was the police in London,’ he said solemnly. ‘It appears that Bobby and Peggy’s parents were killed when their house was bombed some nights ago.’

‘Eeh!’ Edith placed a hand against her wildly thumping heart. ‘Oh, those poor children! Although I can’t say as I’m sorry to hear that bastard of a dad of theirs has copped it. For an awful moment there I thought you were going to say the call was about Bobby.’