Peggy sank into the fireside chair and covered her face with her hands in sorrow – not only for Sarah, but for her mother and the men they waited for. The cruelties of war came in many guises, affecting each and every one of them in a different way. For Sarah and Sylvia it was the gnawing fear of not knowing what had happened to Jock and Philip amid the horrifying rumours coming out of the Far East. For her, it had struck at the very core of her family, scattering her loved ones to the four winds, leaving her bereft and in dread of seeing the post boy walking to her front door with a telegram in his hand.

Ron was escorting Rita back from the Anchor, where she’d cheered up somewhat after an hour with her fire service colleagues. They talked as they slowly went along Camden Road, Rita swinging along on her crutches while Harvey watered every lamp post, downpipe and wall he came across.

‘I know it’s easy for me to say,’ he said, ‘but try not to worry about your dad. Jack’s never been gung-ho about things – so I doubt he’ll do anything reckless.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ she replied. ‘I just wish he hadn’t written me that letter. It choked me up no end, and sort of brought the war too close for comfort. I couldn’t bear to lose him, Grandpa Ron.’

‘Of course you couldn’t,’ he replied, pausing to put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Just remember you aren’t alone, Rita, and that Peggy or I will always be here if you should need us.’

She leant towards him and nudged his arm before grinning up at him. ‘Yeah, and I count myself very lucky to have you. But it works both ways, Grandpa Ron. What’s been bothering you lately?’

‘Women trouble, as usual,’ he muttered. ‘But it’s nothing I can’t deal with.’

Rita giggled. ‘Well, you’re experienced enough in such things, so you should know how to charm your way out of whatever you’ve got yourself into.’

They crossed the road and Ron came to a halt at the end of the cul-de-sac. ‘Sarah has things to talk over with Peggy, so it’s best you go in through the front tonight,’ he explained.

Rita nodded her understanding, blew him a kiss and swung away towards the front steps.

Ron watched until she’d slipped indoors, and then strode up the hill and along to the back gate.

Queenie came out of nowhere like a black streak and almost tripped him up as she shot between his feet and up the steps to the kitchen.

Harvey was about to follow her when Ron heard the unmistakable sound of Peggy’s sobbing coming through the open door and grabbed his collar. ‘Go to your bed,’ he ordered softly, pointing to his basement room.