‘Ach, Cordelia, have a heart,’ groaned Frank. ‘There’s many a time Da and I have had to help you home from the Anchor.’

Her expression sharpened. ‘Are you insinuating that I cannot hold my drink, Frank Reilly?’

‘Aye,’ rumbled Ron, filling his pipe. ‘Four sherries and you’re away with the fairies, so I’d not be the one to throw stones in glass houses if I were you.’

Cordelia raised an eyebrow, but let the remark pass as she was distracted by Brendon serving her toast and tea. ‘Thank you, dear,’ she said, patting him on his freshly shaven cheek. ‘How very handsome you look this morning. It quite makes me wish I was eighteen again,’ she added on a sigh. ‘I always did admire a man in a uniform.’

Brendon grinned and kissed her soft cheek. ‘Would you be flirting with me, Cordelia?’ he teased.

‘I very much think I might be,’ she admitted with a giggle.

‘Will you not be encouraging her,’ growled Ron. ‘To be sure she’s a daft auld woman who should know better.’

‘Not as daft as some who can’t hold their drink and make a spectacle of themselves in the street by howling at the moon,’ fired back Cordelia. She turned back to smile sweetly at Brendon. ‘I might be old, but I can still appreciate the sight of a handsome young man – especially when I’m forced to face that ugly scallywag across the table every day.’

Peggy left them to it, for Cordelia and Ron could trade insults all day long, and Daisy was yelling for attention.

An hour later Brendon had said his goodbyes to the other girls, making a special fuss over Cordelia, who’d become quite sombre as she told him how proud she was of him. Now Peggy was walking up the silent and deserted High Street, her heart heavy at the thought of having to say goodbye to her lovely nephew. She’d left Daisy at home with Sarah and Cordelia as the weather had worsened, the sea fret thickening to muffle every sound.

Peggy and Ron shared the umbrella and trailed behind Brendon, who looked wonderfully smart in his dark RNR uniform as he walked arm in arm between his parents. Harvey trotted along, keeping as close to Brendon as he could, as if he knew he was leaving.

She glanced across at Ron, who’d discarded his poaching coat for once and was wearing his old army greatcoat over his suit. ‘Rosie will be all right once she sees the funny side of things,’ she murmured, seeing his troubled expression. ‘You just have to convince her that you’ll mend your ways.’