‘At least you’ve still got a leg – unlike poor Kitty,’ said a practical Sarah. ‘And she doesn’t moan and carry on, so neither should you.’ She took the crutches from Peggy. ‘Come on, Rita, it’s time to call in at the fire station and then go home.’

Peggy grinned, for Sarah was being unusually bossy, and although Rita was making a great show of being out of sorts, she could see the girl was grateful for her businesslike manner and lack of sugary sympathy.

Peggy waited until Rita had practised with the crutches, and then followed them out of the hospital as far as the gate. ‘I know it’ll be horribly frustrating,’ she said, kissing her cheek. ‘But please try and be nice to poor Sarah. She really does have your best interests at heart.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry I’ve been such a brat,’ Rita replied with a rueful smile. ‘Go to work, Aunty Peg, and stop worrying about everything. We’ll be fine.’

Peggy dithered at the gate with Daisy and watched them make their slow progress along the uneven pavement. She was anxious Rita might trip and topple over, but it seemed she’d got the hang of the crutches and was now moving quite confidently towards the fire station, swinging along in an almost piratical manner, calling out to her colleagues who were watching from the forecourt.

Peggy gave a sigh of relief that both girls would be all right after their ordeal, and hurried down Camden Road to the vast clothing factory which sprawled the length and breadth of an entire block. Solly Goldman was an old and much loved friend, and he’d understand why she was so late and not make a fuss, but it would mean losing an hour’s wages, which would make her a bit short at the end of the week when the milk and paper bills had to be paid.

Once Daisy was ensconced happily in the nursery under the watchful eye of Nanny Pringle and her two young assistants, she took a couple of puffs of a cigarette and then hurried into the factory, which was humming with activity, the ever-present wireless providing background entertainment.

The building had once housed a fashion clothing business but had been extended during the war years to cope with the growing demand for uniforms. Solly had always had a keen eye for what was needed and had got in early when he realised the war really was coming and the forces would need to be clothed, so he’d invested in bigger and better machinery, taken on more machinists and was now conducting a roaring trade.

And yet Solly wasn’t all about making money, for he was a generous benefactor of many charities and had been instrumental in helping to organise the rescue and safe transport to England and America of Jewish children who otherwise might have been slaughtered or imprisoned by Hitler.