Well, that wasn’t enough to put her off. Plenty of people were dealing with far worse things day in and day out. He would be nothing to her. If their paths crossed she would be friendly and strictly professional and that would be that. There was no reason at all to think any more of it.

Resolution made, she turned back and knocked on Knowles’s door.

‘Come.’

Kitty went in.

‘Ma’am, I don’t need until tomorrow. I’d be delighted to accept. I’ll go back to Liverpool.’

Rita pushed open the door to her mother’s kitchen with one hand as she held her baby closely to her with the other. ‘Anyone in?’ she called. She saw the teapot was on the table and she reached across to the spout. It was very warm, so that was a good sign.

Dolly came bustling through the door from the parlour, duster in hand. ‘Who’s this, then?’ she said in delight, immediately checking to see if her newest grandchild was asleep or not. ‘Will you look at the eyelashes on her, Rita. They are even darker than Michael’s, and his were gorgeous at that age, weren’t they?’

Rita smiled to herself. Even her own mother didn’t know for sure that Jack was Michael’s real father – if she had guessed, she’d never said as much. It was true; both his children had been born with eyelashes that would be the envy of many a film star. At this moment, though, Ellen was oblivious to everything, sleeping peacefully on her mother’s shoulder, rosy cheek against Rita’s rather bobbled woollen jumper in deep sea green. Rita used to think it brought out the colour in her eyes, but now she didn’t have time to consider such things.

‘Have you heard the news?’ she asked her mother.

Dolly put down her duster. ‘Depends what news you mean,’ she said briskly. ‘Sarah tells me that Danny’s had a letter from young Tommy saying he wants to come back here to live now he’s almost fourteen. Was that what you meant?’

Rita sat down at the table, carefully positioning herself so that Ellen couldn’t reach out and grab the old chenille tablecloth if she woke up. ‘No, it’s not that – though Danny did say something about it when he came in for a newspaper earlier in the week. It might make a difference to his plans, though.’ She looked up at her mother, a wide smile on her face. ‘No, it’s Kitty. She’s being posted to Liverpool. She’s coming home.’

‘Is she now!’ Dolly’s face was full of pleasure. ‘Well, sure, that’s wonderful! When’s she coming, does she say? Will she live in her own house again or will they expect her to stay in one of their billets?’