‘Don’t be worried, I’m here Kitty and not going anywhere, tell you what. Can you give us a song? That’ll keep me awake. Something to rouse our spirits.’ He didn’t sound right, but it was better than the dreadful silence.

‘All right,’ said Kitty. ‘If you’re sure it will help?’

‘It will.’

Hesitantly at first, but then with more spirit, Kitty began ‘Pack Up Your Troubles’, not too loud, but with as much hope and energy as she could muster. Frank joined in quietly – she could just about hear him. She had to keep him awake if she could, to know he was safe. She absolutely could not lose him.

‘What next?’ she asked when she reached the end of the song.

‘What was it we danced to at Christmas?’

She shut out the thought that she might never see Pop and all the others again. ‘“The Nearness of You”, wasn’t it?’

‘Sing that one for me, Kitty.’

Kitty bit her lip at the memory and then, knowing it was to keep him alert, and possibly anyone else who was trapped down here with them, she sang the song, the one that meant something to both of them, wishing that she could be close to Frank now, holding his hand. Gloria would have been proud of the performance, she thought as she came to the final chorus. ‘How was that, Frank?’

But he didn’t answer.

Sarah slowly dragged herself downstairs to the kitchen sink and turned on the tap. She must have passed out briefly and she was disorientated. Her head was pounding and her nose felt swollen. Filled with dread, she carefully lit the gas lamp and glanced in the old mirror. She gasped in horror at the sight of her face covered in blood. She knew she had to clean herself up before Tommy or Georgie saw her. Drawing on all her training, she carefully dabbed at the mess, careful not to press too hard, swearing to replace the tea towel with a clean one when she had the chance. Kitty wouldn’t mind, she knew. It was silly to worry about a little thing like that, but somehow it helped deal with the pain.

The full horror of what had happened to her was only now beginning to dawn. A man had come into her bedroom, had groped her under the blankets then beaten her. At first the memory was fuzzy but slowly her mind cleared. He had thought she was Kitty. He had smelled heavily of sour beer. She hadn’t seen more than an outline of him but the voice had sounded familiar.