The news about Eddy had floored her. It had been so unexpected. Like Violet, she’d been on tenterhooks for all those years that he was dodging the U-boats, but had relaxed and assumed he was safe now most of that was over. She had had no idea that he could have been part of D-day. Looking back, she realised that Frank had gently tried to warn her, without giving away what he knew, but she had brushed his vague words aside. Her Eddy – her baby boy. It seemed no time at all since he was a toddler, always trying to catch up with his big brother, putting up with little Nancy’s tantrums, never making a fuss but always having his own way of doing things. She didn’t know how she could go on without him.

Some people tried to be kind, pointing out that Frank was safe in his position, and that she still had her girls, so she should be thankful. It didn’t help. For one thing, Frank had lost his leg on active duty, and you still couldn’t say for sure that Liverpool city centre wouldn’t be a target again. Rita’s hospital had been attacked in the past – look at what had happened to Elliott, killed by a bomb just after leaving his shift. Or when Sarah’s colleague had died just outside their nursing station during a heavy raid on the docks. Even Nancy was at risk. Besides, the fact that you had other children didn’t take away the pain of losing one. Eddy was irreplaceable. He wasn’t a younger version of Frank; he wasn’t just a brother to his sisters. She missed him as if she’d lost a limb. There was a permanent ache, a sense of something out of balance, a gaping wound.

She tried not to show it too much around the house because everyone was feeling devastated, everyone wrestling with their own sorrow. Dolly had managed to get to the church to see Father Harding, who had been a tower of strength, explaining that this was a test of her faith. He had helped her back when news had come of her parents dying, and also when Pop’s parents had died, all of them over in Ireland, at respectable ages. That had been scant practice for how Eddy’s death had hit both her and Pop. She was glad they had each other, even though Pop didn’t, or couldn’t, say much. But she knew he was feeling the pain and also sympathising with hers. They both had done their best to comfort their daughter-in-law, who was so dear to them.