After they’d gone through all the old favourites, Dolly finally stood up and announced she was going to boil the kettle if anyone wanted some tea. She looked around the crowded room. ‘Where’s Violet? I hope she hasn’t started on the washing-up on her own. She needs her rest, that one, but she hates doing nothing.’

Rita moved towards the back kitchen. ‘I’ll check.’

She knew Violet couldn’t have come back through the kitchen proper without one of them noticing. Perhaps she’d gone to the privy and then stayed out in the yard as she’d said she wanted to cool down. Yet Rita was concerned, because the daylight had gone and it would be really cold out there now. Cautiously she pushed the back door open and called out. ‘Violet? Are you there?’ She could see her breath forming in drifting white puffs.

She gasped as she saw her sister-in-law, her friend, clutching on to the fence at the far side of the little yard. ‘Violet! What is it? Are you all right?’

Violet turned her face towards the open door and the light shining from it. ‘Oh, Rita. I don’t want to make a fuss. I’m not sure but … it’s early if I’ve counted right … perhaps it’s a mistake, but I think the baby’s coming. I feel very odd. It hurts.’

Rita rushed over. ‘Then you’ve got to come inside right away. How often does it hurt? What’s it like, is it all the time or on and off?’

Violet allowed herself to be led slowly across the yard, but as she reached the threshold to the back kitchen, she doubled over and gasped, bracing herself against the doorframe. It was several minutes before she could stand upright again.

‘On and off,’ she admitted, ‘but the pain gets worse every time and it’s happening more and more often. Is that what it’s like? Or is there something wrong with me? Wrong with my baby?’

Rita gave her a hug. ‘That’s what it’s like. Sounds as if that baby is on its way already. Come on, we’ll get you upstairs before the next pain arrives, and then I’ll get everything ready.’

‘But the party,’ Violet moaned. ‘I don’t want to spoil it.’

Rita shook her head. ‘You won’t. Everyone will be thrilled.’ She had to pause as she felt the sudden urge to cry at the emotion of it all. ‘It’s like a miracle, Violet. The best present any of us could wish for. In the midst of all the death and destruction of the last year, a Christmas baby. So let’s get you inside.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE