‘There, there,’ Rita said, comforting her sobbing friend, staring over Violet’s shoulder in numb disbelief, fearful of facing her own grief until she was alone. Time seemed to stand still, but at last she heard the sound of someone – Pop or Dolly or Sarah – coming in through the front door. Quietly, and with a heavy heart, she made her way out to the hallway, shutting the kitchen door behind her, realising with increasing dread that she would have to break the news to the rest of the family. Violet had lost a husband, but they had lost a son – or a brother, just as she had.

Violet sat up at the sound of the door closing and saw she was alone except for little Ellen, wedged into her cushions. She sipped the lukewarm tea, clinging to the idea that it would be good for shock, but it made her feel sick all over again and she put it down. Ellen stirred and began to grizzle. Violet hauled herself out of her chair and went across to the armchair, bending over slowly, like a woman four times her age. Carefully she picked up the little girl and held her close, rocking her rhythmically, even as her own sobs subsided.

It seemed to do the trick. Ellen grew quiet again and then Violet could hear her small breaths turning into tiny snores as the little girl fell asleep on her shoulder.

Violet shut her eyes, smelling the top of the baby’s warm head, her heart breaking as she faced the end of everything she had hoped for so keenly: the life that she and Eddy had planned ever since they had met – having their own house, a lovely garden, and children of their own. Now it would all come to nothing, and there would be no life with Eddy after the war. She would never see his beloved face or feel his strong arms around her ever again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Alfie Delaney rubbed his hand over the top of his head and cursed that his hair was thinning and receding so quickly. It was a good job that everyone in the services had to keep their hair short to regulation length, and some went even further and had it cut as tightly to their scalp as possible, so his near-baldness didn’t stand out too much. Not that he was in any of the services. He’d managed to avoid that, by claiming he was in an essential job on the docks. When he’d had to get out of Merseyside after the contaminated meat incident, he’d got himself taken on in Glasgow, but unfortunately they’d made him work so hard he’d almost regretted dodging the call-up.