She jumped up. ‘I can solve that.’ A moment later, she returned with a fine camel coat. ‘It was Johnnie’s. It’ll be too big for you, but you’re welcome to it if you would like it.’

‘No, I couldn’t.’

‘I’ll only give it away otherwise.’

Vic tried it on. It swamped his shoulders and hung down to his calves, but it was warm and smelled of Johnnie’s shaving soap. It felt like a hug from his old friend.

‘Are you certain?’ he said, placing it over the back of a chair with more care than he’d ever accorded his own coat.

‘I’ve never been more certain. And, look, you are always welcome here any time, you know that, Vic?’

‘Actually, I feel more at home here than anywhere else. Perhaps that’s why I jumped on the train. I’m not usually that impulsive.’

‘But there’s something else, isn’t there? I know you can’t tell me any details; but it is work? Or a girl, perhaps?’ She looked him in the eye, challenging him to be honest.

He lowered his gaze.

‘Sorry, that’s a bit nosey of me. If you’d rather not . . .?’

He looked up now. ‘No, you are right. There is a girl, someone I met at Bawdsey. She’s a few years younger, and we’re really very different sorts of people, but I’ve grown very fond of her.’ He paused, trying to find the words. ‘The thing is, you see, I am so inexperienced at this sort of thing, I don’t even know if she’s interested in me. We’ve been writing to each other, but because of this bloody war it could be years till our paths ever cross again. I’m afraid it’ll all come to nothing in the end.’

She placed a hand on his. ‘It’ll only come to nothing if you let it, Vic.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sometimes you have to fight for what you want in affairs of the heart, just like in the rest of life.’ She sat back, taking another sip of port. ‘I had to fight for Johnnie.’

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. ‘You mean he didn’t jump at the chance?’

‘We were so young. He was ambitious, and felt he couldn’t get on with his career with a wife and family to worry about.’

‘What a dolt. He came round, obviously?’

‘I just persevered,’ she said. ‘Taking every opportunity. I wrote often, made long journeys to wherever he was and generally made myself indispensable. He caved in eventually.’

‘So that’s what you’d advise me to do?’

‘Exactly.’

Talking seemed to crystallise his feelings. At a time of deep despair, Kath had helped him rediscover his sense of purpose – even a level of optimism that, although his best friend was dead, it was possible to laugh and enjoy life once more.

‘I don’t want to pester. What if she doesn’t want to see me?’ he said.

‘My guess is she will. You just have to keep in touch, however you can. Write, visit, send Christmas cards, small birthday gifts.’