‘Cissy, whatever are you doing in there, girl?’ demanded Cordelia from the other side of the door. ‘I need to wash my hands before Bertie arrives.’

Cissy swallowed the lump in her throat and dashed away her tears. ‘I’ll be just another minute,’ she replied, stuffing the letter into her trouser pocket and leaping to her feet.

Much relieved that she’d yet to put on her make-up which would have been ruined by her tears, she splashed cold water on her face and then checked for signs that she’d been crying in the mirror. Thankfully her eyes weren’t too red or puffy, and a quick pinch of her cheeks brought a bit of colour back to her face. The last thing she needed was for her mother or Cordelia to start asking questions.

Ducking out of the bathroom, she apologised to Cordelia for keeping her waiting, then fetched her make-up case from Rita’s deserted room. The house seemed very quiet – too quiet. She glanced at her watch in momentary panic as she hurried down the stairs, and then saw there was plenty of time to sort herself out before she had to be at the Anchor.

A hung-over Jack sat alone at the kitchen table in his demob suit, a strong cup of tea in front of him, and a cigarette burning between his fingers. ‘Where is everyone?’ she asked.

‘Peggy and the girls have taken the food to the Anchor,’ he replied, running a finger inside his stiff shirt collar and adjusting his tie. ‘They’ve left me those to carry over once Bertie’s arrived to drive Cordelia about,’ he added, nodding towards the two large plates of sandwiches on the table.

Cissy left him to his hangover and hurried down to her basement room. She would not let Randy’s offhand rejection upset her, she vowed, opening her make-up case and starting on her face. This was Ruby and Mike’s wedding day, and no one would ever know of the bitter hurt and disappointment she would hide behind the bright smile that Randy said had once made his heart race.

‘Bastard,’ she hissed softly, and added a defiant slash of scarlet to her lips.

It was still early when Rosie had banished Ron and Harvey from the pub, making Ron promise he’d get Mike sober and to the Town Hall on time. Arriving at the bungalow, he’d found that the young man was already bathed and shaved and looking very smart in his dress uniform, but his eyes were still bloodshot, he was shaking with nerves, and he’d had to take a couple of aspirin for his headache.