Peggy was barely aware of anything as she wheeled the pushchair along Camden Road which was still bedecked with flags and bunting. The gaiety of it all left her numb, for her world had become colourless and without joy, the aching hollow inside her dulling her senses to the point where she could no longer even cry.

However, despite the heavy burden of loss she was carrying, she’d meant what she’d said to Cordelia, and was determined to fulfil her responsibilities to her best ability. Anne and the boys might not need her as they once had, but Daisy and Cissy did, as well as Cordelia and her girls. The ending of the war would see great changes at Beach View, and there would be many challenges ahead – not only for herself, but for her chicks. She needed to stay strong, to be there for them when things went awry – which in some cases, she feared they might – and to continue to be the mother hen they’d all come to rely upon.

‘You’re looking very smart this morning, Peggy,’ said Nanny Pringle, opening the door to the factory’s crèche. ‘New costume?’

Peggy dredged up a smile and unstrapped an impatient Daisy from the pushchair. ‘It’s from the first batch of Solly’s latest venture,’ she replied. ‘He saw a gap in the market and decided that as the men are all getting demob suits, the women should have the chance of something smart and cheap and off-the-peg. Rachel designed it, and we’ve already had some healthy orders from some of the big department stores.’

‘Goodness me,’ replied the plump, motherly woman, eyeing the pencil-slim skirt and close-fitting jacket with its peplum draping from the waist. ‘I don’t think I’m the right shape for such a thing,’ she said with a smile. ‘But I can see it will catch on with you young, slim things.’

If Peggy hadn’t been feeling so low she might have been rather flattered to be called young, but as it was she could only manage a slight twitch of her lips. She grabbed Daisy and managed to kiss her before the child wriggled away and dashed into the crèche to be with her little friends.

‘Don’t take it personally,’ soothed Nanny Pringle, who must have caught the wistfulness in Peggy’s eyes. ‘At this age they’re always in a hurry to be off and doing.’

Peggy nodded, vowing that she’d keep her feelings to herself from now on. Nanny Pringle was too sharp-eyed. She stored the pushchair in the bicycle shelter and headed for the factory. Clocking in, she took a deep breath, determined to function as usual, keep her mind on her work and just get through the day.

Climbing the stairs to the offices that overlooked the factory floor, she saw her friend Madge sitting at her desk, lost in thought. ‘Penny for them?’