‘Nancy?’ Kitty couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice, as she carefully unpacked the eggs and the big pat of creamy butter. ‘Does she even know where it is?’

‘Apparently so,’ said Frank wryly. ‘Georgie wanted to help his cousins and Nancy volunteered to help out. Everyone else is making sandwiches in Mam’s kitchen – it’s like a factory assembly line over there.’

‘I can imagine,’ said Kitty, reaching for her biggest mixing bowl, remembering all the times the women had joined forces to produce a family meal out of what felt like thin air. ‘When I’ve got this into the oven, I’ll pop across and see if there’s anything more I can do.’ She weighed her flour and expertly tipped it into a sieve without getting any on the table. Then she set about separating the eggs. ‘What about Sid? He won’t be able to control three lively children when they’re out and about, will he?’

Sid’s return had been the talk of the street, ever since the day the emaciated young man had stepped from an ambulance a few weeks earlier, a shadow of his former swaggering self. He was severely malnourished, and the word was that dysentery and other diseases had spread through the camps just before he’d been freed. He certainly needed building up again. He’d hardly been seen out, and nobody knew what he and Nancy had said to each other. After the incident when his mother had come round blaming Nancy for Georgie’s disappearance, she had begun taking her ration books to another shop. It wasn’t that Violet or Ruby had asked old Mrs Kerrigan to shop elsewhere, but she clearly felt uncomfortable. As for Nancy herself, she had given nothing away, but ever since that dreadful day she had been noticeably less demanding and thoughtless towards her family and friends.

‘He’s still at his mother’s as far as I know,’ Frank said, watching with fascination as Kitty cracked eggshell after eggshell, neatly pouring the whites into a small bowl while retaining the yolk unbroken in the half-shell, before finally tipping it into a teacup. He waited for her to finish the last one then said, ‘Kitty, come here a minute, you’ve got flour on your nose.’

She stepped towards him and he brushed her face gently and then kissed her hungrily, more strongly than he’d ever dared to do for fear of hurting her. Now she kissed him back, passionate in her desire for him, and it was several minutes before they parted, gasping but laughing, full of pleasure that they could finally express how they’d felt for so long.

‘Kitty,’ said Frank, ‘shall we make this a double celebration today?’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, returning to the task in hand and weighing the butter.