Peggy swiftly pulled her emotions in order and turned to smile at Daisy, who no longer needed the sides up on her cot and had got into the habit of clambering onto the bed at Adolf’s first raucous crow. ‘Yes, darling, I’m awake,’ she replied, pulling her daughter to her and holding her soft, warm little body close, needing this loving contact to counteract her loneliness for Jim.

Daisy put up with this for less than a minute and then pushed away to slide back off the bed. ‘I hungry, Mumma. Want beckfist.’

Peggy’s precious moment was over, and she reluctantly got out of bed to glance at the clock and prepare for another long, busy day. The planes were noisy again, even at this hour, and her pulse beat a little bit faster in the hope that the invasion may have begun.

Yet, as she got herself and Daisy washed and dressed, Peggy wondered how on earth she was going to fit everything in today. She couldn’t afford to miss part of her shift again, and certainly didn’t want to let Solly down after he’d been so kind in giving her the job in the first place – but she was determined to visit Danuta at some point, for the thought of her being alone up at the hospital was just too much to bear after all the girl had been through.

‘I wish I still had my car,’ she muttered as she pulled a brush through her tangled curls. ‘It would make life so much easier.’ She had a fleeting hope that maybe Doris might lend her the Austin, and instantly dismissed it. They were barely talking, and after yesterday, she didn’t feel like going cap in hand asking for a favour, only to be shown the door with a flea in her ear.

Once she and Daisy were ready, Peggy looked in on Cordelia to see if she wanted help getting down the stairs. She was getting very unsteady on her feet, and Peggy constantly worried that she might take a nasty tumble.

‘I can manage perfectly well,’ Cordelia said rather huffily. ‘Please don’t fuss, Peggy. You have enough to do without running about after me.’ As if to prove the point, she headed purposefully for the stairs and, with one hand gripping the banisters, the other grasping her walking stick, she negotiated each stair with great care until she reached the hall.

‘Well, that’s not right,’ she said crossly. ‘Where’s my newspaper, and what happened to the early post?’

‘The paper boy must have slept in,’ said Peggy. She was still trying to get used to Cordelia not being at her best first thing in the morning when she’d once been so bright and lively. ‘Perhaps there’s no mail for anyone today,’ she added wistfully.

‘It’s simply not good enough,’ Cordelia snapped. ‘I can’t eat breakfast without my newspaper and crossword.’