‘Oh, I do so hope you’re right.’ Peggy pushed through the cloakroom door and into the main body of the factory to be met by a wall of noise from the machines, the wireless and the loud chatter and laughter of the machinists, cutters, loaders and warehouse staff.

‘We’ll talk at break time,’ shouted Gracie. ‘Solly’s promised everyone an iced bun as a treat to celebrate the victory.’

Peggy grinned and nodded before quickly heading for her machine. The thought that this war might soon be over battled with the delicious anticipation of an iced bun – the likes of which hadn’t been seen at Beach View for years – and she sat down with a will to begin her shift.

Whether it was the happy atmosphere, the rising hope for the future or the enticement of that bun, it seemed that everyone worked with a greater will that morning. The buns duly arrived from Solly’s cousin’s bakery in time for elevenses, still warm from the oven, the icing sweet and deliciously gooey.

Every woman gazed in awe at the heavily laden baker’s trays and almost reverently chose a bun and took as long as they could to savour every crumb as a beaming Solly took over the vast canteen urn and saluted the victory with a mug of tea.

The excitement of the day had dwindled, the sweetness only just still lingering in her mouth as Peggy finally cut the thread on her twenty-fifth pair of bell-bottoms and sank back in her chair to ease her stiff neck and shoulders. She’d worked like a Trojan and the hours had flown, but it would be several more hours before she could really rest and take in the enormous events of the day.

‘Do you have time for a cuppa before you go up to the hospital, Peg?’ asked Gracie, who’d heard all about Peggy’s one-time lodger and her terrible injuries caused by bomb-blast during their lunch break.

‘I would have loved a cuppa, but someone’s picking me up, so I daren’t keep them waiting.’ She gave Gracie a quick hug, waved goodbye to the other girls and hurried off to fetch Daisy from the nursery.

Fred’s van was waiting outside the gates, and she smiled at Lil as she approached. Lil was a tiny woman, born in the East End, and very protective of her Fred, who was a bit inclined to flirt – quite harmlessly as it happened – with his female customers. She put up with most things, like his gambling and fondness for a pint or three, but woe betide any woman who dared to overstep the mark.