‘You may not have heard the news, but I have to tell you that the Germans have invaded Poland.’

‘This is it,’ someone behind Kath whispered. This is what? she wondered.

‘If they don’t withdraw, then Chamberlain says we will declare war.’

She didn’t understand. Why would Britain go to war over Poland? There had been plenty of speculation but somehow no one really believed it would come to this. Brunetti was still speaking.

‘This is grave news, of course. But there is an added implication for us in this room.’

He seemed to pause, as though for dramatic effect, although afterwards Kath realised that he must have been struggling to contain his emotions. ‘Dr Rowe has told me that should we go to war, all of the non-military personnel at the Manor will be evacuated.’

Oh hell.

‘What will happen to us?’ she heard Ma asking.

‘Catering will be provided by the RAF.’

‘Even for officers?’

‘Even for officers.’

‘What will happen to us?’ Ma repeated.

‘I’m afraid –’ he paused again, his chin working – ‘we are all being made redundant. Me included. With immediate effect.’

Double hell.

An audible ‘oooh’ seemed to suck all the air out of the room, and Kath found it hard to breathe. She turned to her mother, dizzy and disorientated. ‘Whatever shall we do?’

‘We’ll get by, I suppose,’ her mother whispered, pulling her close. ‘Being out of work is going to be the least of our worries, sweetheart.’

It was only once they’d left the building, walking in silence with the rest of the kitchen staff down the driveway, that she looked back at the Manor and remembered the other thing Mr Brunetti had said. All non-military personnel will be evacuated. Would that include the scientists? Would it include Vic?

Despite her earlier misgivings, she’d come to look forward to their walks. She loved his company, his interesting conversation, his knowledge about so many things. He was funny, often making her laugh, and so refreshingly different from most other boys, who seemed to feel the need to brag about their achievements. Vic was modest to a fault. Their kisses were sweet but chaste; he didn’t appear to want anything more and, she had to confess, neither did she. There was none of that stomach-turning swoony recklessness she’d felt when kissing Billy.

She did not consider herself to be in love, although she sensed the possibility of it. But now, there would be no chance. She felt suddenly bereft. It was Friday afternoon and she was not due back at work until Monday, the day after the so-called ultimatum expired, and the country would officially be at war.

No one had the appetite for Sunday lunch, not after that terrible announcement and the almost immediate sounding of air-raid sirens that had brought everyone out into the streets, anxiously scanning the skies. Pa had built a shelter in the garden, but nobody wanted to sit in its damp darkness. Ma was putting on a brave face, but every now and again would break down in tears.