‘London!’ Kathy was shocked. ‘But it’s so dangerous there! And it’s so big. What are our chances of finding them if he’s taken them there?’

The officer sighed. ‘To be completely honest with you, not a lot,’ he admitted. ‘Unfortunately, by the time we thought to check the train station they would have already arrived in London and what with all the bombings and the state that place is in …’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s going to be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack. But don’t worry,’ he went on hastily, seeing Kathy’s deep distress. ‘We’ve already spoken to the police there and given them the children’s descriptions. They’ll be keeping a lookout for them, so don’t give up hope.’

Tears spilled down Kathy’s cheeks. Why hadn’t she guessed that Ben might be capable of doing something like this? And why hadn’t she told her mother about his visit? But it was too late for regrets now. Somehow, she had to find them. They would be so frightened in such a big city without her once they realised that Ben wasn’t going to bring them back. Another thought occurred to her then and the tears fell faster. David had told her Ben was suffering from shell shock, so why hadn’t she realised that he wouldn’t be thinking straight? He probably wasn’t even capable of looking after himself properly, let alone the children, so what would become of them? And all the bombings that were taking place there – look at what had happened to poor Bobby when he returned to London. What if her babies were killed? She wouldn’t be able to bear it.

‘Please, tell the police to keep looking,’ she sobbed, and the policeman nodded and after replacing his helmet left quietly by the back door.

‘Oh, darling, why did you never tell me that Ben was their father?’ Sunday asked.

‘I … I suppose I was too ashamed to; I thought you’d be shocked,’ Kathy answered with a catch in her voice. ‘Even though he was my stepbrother I thought I loved him, and I thought he loved me too. It took a long while for me to realise that he never had. I was just some part of his plan to hurt us all before he cleared off. Then I suppose my pride was hurt and I convinced myself that I could bring the children up without him …’

‘And a very good job you’ve made of it,’ her mother told her as Cissie nodded in agreement. George, however, was silent as he sat in the chair by the fire, his head bowed, blaming himself. If only he’d been on time to pick the little ones up none of this would ever have happened.