Sitting on the bed for a moment, she gazed at the photograph of her darling Jim, and wondered fleetingly what he’d have made of that conversation with Anne, and the ensuing row she’d overheard between the two sisters. Jim had always been very protective of her, and regarded his role of husband and father as one to be respected and obeyed. He would probably have given Cissy a hug for defending her mother, and then ordered the rest of them home – or gone down there and brought them all back whether they liked it or not.

Peggy smiled at the thought, even though such actions would definitely have caused even more trouble. But her Jim had always been a man to react swiftly to situations he didn’t approve of without first stopping to think before charging in like a bull in a china shop. Whereas, after that initial bitter blow, she’d had the day to think about Anne’s reasons for staying on, and had been forced to admit they were reasonable, and that she’d had no business flying off into hysterics. Perhaps she should try and telephone her after tea to smooth things over between them.

Feeling a little lighter in spirit, she returned to the kitchen to find that Daisy was already hungrily tucking into her meal, so collected her own plate from Rita and sat next to Cissy. It was quite a squash around the kitchen table, and had been for a while, but it felt cosier in here than in the dining room, and it meant she didn’t have to have two fires going – which with the current shortage of coal would have been almost impossible.

‘Where’s Danuta?’ she asked once she’d staved off her initial hunger.

‘She’s still doing her district rounds, so I’m keeping her tea warm in the slow oven,’ said Rita. ‘She’s on call tonight, so if the phone goes, don’t be alarmed.’

‘It’s supper, not tea,’ reproved Cissy coolly. ‘Tea is a drink or something you have mid-afternoon.’

‘Well thanks for educating me, Cissy,’ the girl replied with an impish glint in her dark eyes. ‘But the evening meal has always been tea in this house, as you very well know.’

‘Yes,’ said Peggy. ‘They might have supper in the mess at Cliffe, but we don’t stand on ceremony here. Just eat your tea, Cissy, and be grateful there’s any food on the table at all.’

Cissy reddened beneath the heavy make-up, moved the food about on her plate with a fork and then abandoned it. ‘I’m really not that hungry,’ she said.

‘I’ll ’ave it then,’ said Ivy, and before Cissy could react, she’d scraped the lot onto her own plate, and tucked in. ‘Waste not, want not,’ she said through a mouthful of meat and mash.