‘That’s typical of Dad,’ sniffed Ivy, dabbing at her nose with a grubby handkerchief. ‘He never trusted the council, and didn’t like having to report to them all the time.’

‘A lot of people don’t,’ soothed Andy, stroking her back. ‘And the way they’d been shunted about during these last few years, I can’t say I blame your dad.’

Ivy swallowed the brandy and grimaced, but it seemed to rouse her spirits. ‘So what did this De Vries woman do next?’

‘She talked to some of the refugees she was working with who were survivors of the blast. One of their old Hackney neighbours remembered seeing your family in the street outside the mansions with their belongings the day before the blast and thought they were on their way to their new billet which your mum had told her was only four streets away. They’d been planning to meet up, but there was such carnage and chaos following the attack that the encounter slipped her mind entirely.’

‘But if they couldn’t be identified, and no one knew for sure they’d stayed at the mansions that night, how do we know they’re definitely dead?’ protested Ivy, still clinging to a last shred of hope.

‘When your letter arrived, Mrs De Vries realised she needed to confirm what she already suspected before replying. She discovered where the effects of the unidentified were being kept. Having talked to Mrs Higgins, their old neighbour, who’d described yer dad’s watch and your mum’s ring and brooch very clearly, she’d known what to look for.’

‘Old Ma Higgins always ’ad a sharp eye for Mum’s brooch,’ muttered Ivy.

Andy gripped her hands very tightly. ‘I’m so sorry, love. Mrs De Vries found them, all together in a padded envelope – damaged but identifiable.’

‘I gotta go and get ’em,’ she rasped through her tears. ‘And see where it ’appened and where they’ve been laid to rest.’ She took a shuddering breath. ‘Oh, my Gawd,’ she gasped as realisation hit. ‘I gotta tell the little ’uns and all – and me brothers.’ She collapsed against him. ‘I can’t do it, Andy. I just can’t,’ she sobbed.

‘You won’t have to, love,’ he soothed. ‘Mrs De Vries confirmed that the authorities will inform your brothers, and they’ll let the little ’uns’ foster parents know immediately.’

‘I’ll have to go and see the kids, she sobbed. ‘They’ll be ever so upset. But then what? I can’t just leave ’em down there in Salisbury, can I?’

‘You can bring them to Beach View until you’ve got things sorted in London,’ said Peggy, relieved at last to be able to do something to help. ‘That big room on the top floor would be ideal.’