Harvey wasn’t too pleased about this, but then saw a rabbit loping across the lawn and shot off in pursuit.

‘Heathen beast,’ Ron muttered fondly. ‘I wish my life was that uncomplicated.’

Peggy and the others had come in from the garden as the sun disappeared behind thickening clouds and the wind strengthened. It looked as if they were in for yet another cold, wet night, but the turn in the weather hadn’t stopped the fighters and bombers, for they’d continued their seemingly endless raids right through the day.

Peggy’s mood had lightened as she’d played with Daisy and her dolls. The kitchen was quiet but for the soft background music from the wireless as she waited for the early evening news, and she was feeling very content. But Rita had become bored with sitting about doing nothing, so she and Ivy had gone down to the fire station to see Andy and the others and spend a bit of time in idle chat, taking some rock buns they’d bought from a bring-and-buy fund-raising event.

Sarah had gone upstairs to write letters, and Fran was at the kitchen table darning her black stockings, which she’d need when she went on night duty the following afternoon. Cordelia had fallen asleep over her library book, her spectacles askew on her nose, her hearing aid switched off because of the racket the planes were making.

Harvey came galloping into the quiet haven like a whirlwind and joyfully tried to lick everyone, startling Cordelia awake and knocking over his water bowl, and making the cat arch her back and hiss at him.

‘For goodness’ sake, Harvey,’ said Peggy, getting up to clear the mess from the floor and having to fight him off as he tried to climb all over her. ‘Will you calm down and behave?’ She eyed him more closely as he sat and panted. ‘What’s that in your whiskers? What have you been eating now?’

‘It’s chocolate cake,’ said Ron, stomping up from the cellar. ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he was sick before the day’s out. He’s been stuffing himself silly.’

‘Where on earth did he get hold of chocolate cake?’ gasped Peggy.

‘At the Memorial.’ Ron threw his cap onto the table. ‘The patients seem to think he needs feeding up.’

Peggy stared at him in puzzlement. ‘What were you doing up there?’

‘I was visiting someone,’ he said, helping himself to a rock bun and sharing it with Daisy, who’d come to lean against his knee.

‘Don’t eat that,’ said Peggy sharply. ‘We’ve saved you roast dinner, and it’ll spoil your appetite.’

Ron’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Roast dinner? Since when?’