Ron ripped it back and gave him a good shake. ‘Frank. Wake up. This is important. I’ve lost me ferrets.’

Unlike his father, Frank really suffered the morning after a long drinking session, and he painfully sat up, holding his head. ‘What happened? Why am I on the floor in your scullery?’

‘I don’t remember,’ Ron said impatiently, ‘but by the smell of you, you landed in my compost at some point – just like your brother used to.’ Ron squatted beside him. ‘Frank, I need you to concentrate,’ he said urgently. ‘Flora and Dora have disappeared. Do you know where they might be?’

Frank shook his head, which made him wince. ‘I don’t remember anything after you tried to serenade Rosie,’ he groaned. ‘To be sure, Da, it was the most fearful racket, so it was.’

Ron realised he’d get no sense out of his son, so he went outside into the garden in the faint hope that his precious ferrets had hidden away in the shed, the outside lav, or the Anderson shelter. The cold, damp air cleared the vestiges of his hangover as he and a fretful Harvey searched every nook and cranny. But they were nowhere to be seen, so with Harvey trotting alongside him, he tramped up the alleyway towards the hills, softly calling for them in the hope they’d hear him and come running as they usually did when out hunting.

A damp blanket of fog was rolling in from the sea, making it hard to see anything, and Ron stood at the top of the track, his spirits plummeting as hope faded. They’d been fine beasts and excellent rabbit catchers, and as he’d raised them from small pups, he’d grown very fond of them. The thought he would never see them again made him immeasurably sad, and it was a long while before he had the heart to turn back for home.

‘Come on, Harvey,’ he said on a sigh. ‘Better get back and clean up before Peggy and Pauline wake to give us an earful. I’ve a nasty feeling this is only the start of what could turn out to be a very bad day.’

He returned to Beach View to find Frank had stripped down to his underpants and was washing himself in the scullery sink. ‘I didn’t think it’d be wise to wake the household by using the bathroom upstairs,’ he explained, drying himself off with several of Peggy’s clean tea towels. ‘We’re probably in enough trouble with Peg and Pauline as it is.’