Tears pricked Roz’s eyes. There was an honesty and certainty about Gethin which caused her to believe that he was speaking the truth. She looked at Mabel, who left the cow she had been milking to comfort her.

‘Felix can hold his own, Roz,’ she soothed reassuringly. ‘Why don’t you go back to the house and write to Bill and Alan? Me and Gethin can finish up here, then perhaps Gethin can take you into town to mail your letter?’

Gethin nodded. ‘Just let me know when you’re ready.’

Wiping her eyes on the backs of her hands, Roz nodded miserably. ‘I’ll feel happier once I’ve written to them, and better still once I’ve had a reply.’

It was the morning that Gethin was due to leave for the RAF. The whole family had been up earlier than usual so that they could get the work done and see him off at the train station.

Roz had written and sent her letter the day before. Whilst she was at the post office she had voiced her fears to the post mistress who had reassured her that when it came to the deaths on the Dunera, no one of Felix’s age had been reported.

Standing on the platform, which was a lot smaller than the one at Lime Street, Roz hooked her arm through Mabel’s. ‘You’re going to miss that boy.’

Mabel nodded sadly. ‘At first I was annoyed that he was leaving, now I just want him to come back safe and sound.’

Roz glanced meaningfully in the direction of Gethin’s mother, who was blowing her nose into her handkerchief, whilst being comforted by her son. ‘You’re not the only one who’s worried.’

Mabel’s bottom lip trembled as she fought back the tears which threatened to expose her innermost feelings. ‘I dreamed of finding myself a farmer, and now I wish I hadn’t, because it’s going to be a lot harder worrying where he is, and whether he’s safe.’

Roz squeezed Mabel’s arm. ‘That’s what love is. I’m the sa—’ She stopped short, but Mabel was no fool.

‘I’m what?’ she said, cocking an eyebrow. ‘I’m the same with Felix, that’s what you were about to say, wasn’t it?’

Blushing, Roz nodded. ‘I was, but then it occurred to me that the only times I’ve ever been sure of my feelings for Felix are when I’ve thought him in mortal peril. The first one being when he was arrested and the other, yesterday when I thought he could be dead, but when I think he’s safe, I tend to question my love for him, and whether it’s more of a kinship than a romance.’