Gracie looked up as the planes continued to roar back and forth and the dull thuds of the distant battle were carried to them across the water on the light wind. ‘Clive’s up there somewhere,’ she murmured, ‘and the only comfort I can take from it is that he’s probably safer there than on those beaches.’

Peggy had a sudden terrifying image of Jack Smith wading ashore to be met by a barrage of gunfire. She shivered. ‘I was so excited about it all this morning, relieved that finally something was happening, but at what cost, Gracie? I have a nephew out there on a ship, and little Rita’s dad is more than likely on one of those beaches. It’s all suddenly too real – and far too close.’

Gracie put her arm about her waist. ‘We have to stay strong, Peggy, for their sake and for our children.’

Peggy pulled herself together as she finished the last of her cigarette and stubbed it out. ‘It’s either sink or swim, isn’t it? At least we’ve got a choice, unlike those poor men over there who have to obey orders and put their lives at risk every moment of the day.’

She shot Gracie a rueful smile. ‘I’ve often wished I was a man, able to fight the enemy, give Hitler a bloody nose and do all the things I simply don’t have the strength or knowledge to do. Now I’m glad I’m a woman – for although we aren’t in such danger and have a choice unlike those men – there are times when it seems to be the much tougher option.’

‘You don’t need to convince me,’ laughed Gracie. She pulled Peggy to her feet. ‘Come on, time for work before we have to start all over again when we get home.’

Peggy followed her inside and quickly used the washroom. Emerging from the stall to wash her hands, she came face to face with the odious Olive Grayson who was wearing an intense expression that warned Peggy she had hurtful and probably malicious gossip to impart.

‘I’ve been trying to get to talk to you all day,’ she said, barring Peggy’s path to the basins. ‘You’ll never guess what I ’eard from a mutual acquaintance.’

‘I haven’t got time to listen to your gossip, Olive,’ replied Peggy firmly.

‘Oh, I think you’ll find time for this,’ said Olive, her eyes glinting with malice. ‘It concerns that floozy what runs the Anchor.’

Peggy started to wash her hands, determined not to rise to the bait.

But Olive was not to be denied. ‘I see Ron’s taken charge while she’s gorn off. His devotion’s quite something, ain’t it? But I wonder if ’e’d be that keen if ’e knew who she’d gorn off with.’