Ron regarded him sympathetically. ‘Women are a mystery, Ron, and she’s probably only using him to get her own back for Gloria,’ he said. ‘Help yourself to the roses. You know where everything is. I’d come with you, but with all the troop trains in and out, I can’t leave the station.’

Ron thanked him and hurried up to the allotments. Having gathered a large bunch of beautiful, heavily scented pink roses, he tied them with string and carried them back down to the Anchor. It was almost midday, so Rosie should be getting the bar ready for opening time.

The shutters were open so he tapped on the window as he peered into the gloom and saw someone moving towards the door. Whipping off his hat, he cradled the roses and waited nervously as bolts were slid back and the key rattled in the lock.

But it wasn’t Rosie standing there with a wide smile, but Brenda, and for a moment he was lost for words.

‘Hello, Ron. Are those for me?’ teased Brenda, who was still snuffling a bit from her heavy cold.

‘To be sure I’ll bring you some next time,’ he replied quickly to cover his disappointment. ‘Is Rosie upstairs?’

Brenda left the door open and led the way into the bar as the Town Hall clock struck twelve. ‘She’s gone away for a while.’ She finished placing clean glasses on the shelf beneath the highly polished bar and took the towels off the beer pumps.

Ron felt a stab of alarm. ‘Gone away? Where, and for how long?’

Brenda shrugged. ‘I have no idea, Ron, sorry. She posted a note through my door early this morning asking me to run the place until she got back. She didn’t say how long she’d be away, or where she was going, but she’s taken Monty with her, thank goodness. I have enough to do without looking after a lively dog.’

Ron’s thoughts whirled and his pulse raced in panic. Travel restrictions were tighter than ever, and anyone wanting to leave Cliffehaven would have to have a valid, urgent reason, and go through a lot of rigmarole, before permission was granted – unless, like Doris, she had friends in high places. Could Major Radwell have such influence, and if so, had they gone together – and where to?

That idea made him feel quite ill. If she’d gone by train then Stan would have said, for with Ethel on watch, she’d have told him; especially if Rosie had been travelling with Radwell. The coaches no longer ran, and Ron could only surmise that she’d hired a car as she’d done once before when her husband had taken a turn for the worse.

‘Do you know how she went?’