The moment was broken by the rap of the door knocker.

‘Oh dear, Marjorie must have forgotten her front door key again,’ said Richard good-naturedly. ‘Let’s go and welcome her home with the good news.’ He bustled out of the study and into the hall leaving Ivy to follow him.

Richard opened the front door and stiffened in surprise. ‘I think you must have the wrong address,’ he said brusquely.

A deep masculine voice replied, ‘Are you Mr Johnson?’

‘Yes,’ he replied warily. ‘Who are you?’

‘We’re Ivy’s brothers, Stanley and Michael. Is she still ’ere?’

Ivy nearly fainted when she saw them standing there in their Navy regulation white short-sleeved T-shirts and bell-bottom trousers, for the last time she’d seen them they’d been skinny boys in their father’s hand-me-downs. Now they were over six feet tall and built like brick outhouses with muscled arms covered in tattoos and necks like tree trunks.

‘I’m here all right,’ she replied, easing past a stunned Richard to block the entrance and fold her arms. ‘But how did yer know I was ’ere – and what do yer want?’

‘A drink wouldn’t go amiss,’ said Stanley, who sported a flourishing beard and moustache. ‘Mrs Reilly told us you was ’ere. Ain’t yer goin’ to let us in, gel?’

Ivy looked to Richard for advice and noted he’d gone very pale. He nodded reluctantly and stepped back, indicating silently that she should take them into the kitchen.

‘Wipe yer boots,’ she ordered her brothers. ‘Them’s Persian rugs and worth a fortune.’

They dutifully obeyed and, staring agape at the grandness of it all, wordlessly followed her through the hall into the kitchen which overlooked the lovely back garden.

Flustered by this unexpected visit, and still shocked by their appearance, Ivy put the kettle on and hunted out cups and saucers, noticing that Richard had discreetly left them to it – but probably had his ear glued to the door to hear what was being said. She still couldn’t believe these giants were the same skinny, spotty youths she’d vaguely remembered leaving home all those years ago – and yet there was a likeness to their father in their size and build, and to their mother in their striking blue eyes.

She braced herself for what was to come, for their timing couldn’t have been worse, and if they didn’t like what she’d decided about the kids there would be trouble.

‘You’ve changed a bit since I last saw yer,’ she said once the tea was poured and a plate of digestive biscuits placed on the table before them. ‘The Merchant Navy clearly feeds yer well.’

‘You’ve changed a bit and all,’ said Mick, eyeing her up and down as he grinned. ‘Last time I saw yer, you ’ad yer drawers half-mast, a snotty nose and scabby knees.’