The young boy waved the telegram at her. ‘If you’re Rozalin Sachs, then yes, this is a telegram for you,’ he said slowly and loudly, as if Roz couldn’t understand English.

Too scared to take the telegram, Roz looked at Mabel. ‘There are only two people who know I’m here, Bill and Alan. Why would they send me a telegram? I can’t imagine it being anything good. After all, we know there’s only one kind of news that gets delivered by telegram during wartime.’

Heulwyn took the telegram from the boy and handed it to Roz. ‘This lad’s got places to be; best you read it quick in case you need to send a reply.’

Roz pulled herself together and read the contents whilst everyone around her looked on with bated breath.

‘It’s Felix,’ she whispered, her heart racing with relief, ‘he’s back in Liverpool and wants to know if he can see me before he goes off for training.’

Heulwyn, who had feared Roz’s assumption that only bad news came with wartime telegrams to be right, sank gratefully into one of the kitchen chairs. ‘Of course he can,’ she said. ‘Tell him he can come as soon as he likes. He can even stay for Christmas if he makes it in time.’

Roz’s eyes shone with gratitude. ‘Oh, Heulwyn, are you sure?’

Howell spoke up from behind the pages of his newspaper. ‘She’d not have suggested it otherwise, especially not after what that poor lad’s been through.’

Taking a pencil from his pocket, the boy stood poised to write. ‘Is that the message? Come as soon as you can, and stay for Christmas?’

Roz nodded. ‘It certainly is.’

Several telegrams later, and the date had finally been set for the 23rd of December, when Roz and Mabel would meet Felix at the station. However, the snow had started to fall a few days before his arrival, and the roads were already impassable by anything other than a horse, so Howell had got the old wooden sleigh they used for such conditions and harnessed it to Zeus.

‘I don’t know the way,’ said Roz as Howell gave her instructions on how to drive the horse.

He gave her a wry smile. ‘There’s only one road, you can’t possibly go wrong.’

Mabel pointed at the bells which Howell had attached to the harness. ‘What are they for?’

‘So that folk hear you coming. Horses’ hooves don’t make the same noise in snow as they do on tarmac.’

‘What if he runs off?’ said Mabel, who whilst eager to take the reins, was also wary of any consequences that might arise from their inexperience.

Howell roared with laughter. ‘I’ll take my hat off to you if you can get this bloody lump to run.’

‘One road all the way?’ Roz said tentatively.

He nodded. ‘You can’t get lost, and even if you did, Zeus’ll bring you home when he gets hungry.’