‘There he is, the angel of death,’ said Audrey to herself, standing outside the bakery in the sunshine, watching the young telegram messenger boy pedalling quickly over the potholes up Fisherman’s Road on his red bicycle, the badge on his arm glinting in the early morning sunshine. Poor lad was only fourteen years old, if that, and his arrival at the front door was dreaded by everyone, in case he was delivering bad news from the War Office. As soon as they’d seen him coming people couldn’t help staring at where the boy was headed, sometimes shouting out ‘Telegram boy!’ to warn their neighbours he was on his way, with their heads poking out of their windows, or waiting cross-armed at the garden gate as if standing guard. Sometimes the messenger boy would defy the nosy neighbours by going round the backs of the houses, down alleyways and through backyards – but either way, it didn’t take long for news to get around. If you didn’t hear the piercing scream of shock and grief from a woman given bad news about her husband or son, the news would still spread like wildfire in a blaze of whispers over the garden fence.

‘Poor lad,’ she whispered to herself. ‘He carries a lot of responsibility on those young shoulders.’

Mind you, she thought, boys not much older were facing death in the battlefields, seeing goodness knows what. Every youngster was having to grow up so quickly these days.

‘Mrs Barton?’ said Freda, the postwoman, suddenly next to her, making Audrey jump out of her skin. ‘Post.’

‘Oh good heavens,’ Audrey gasped when she realised she was holding out a letter. ‘Thank you.’

Ripping open the envelope, her legs almost gave way as she recognised the handwriting and digested the words scribbled on one sheet of paper. It was from her dearest Charlie.

Tears rushed into her eyes and she quickly blinked them away as a bolt of relief passed through her body. She clutched her throat. She felt like yelping in joy. It was the morning of her birthday and there couldn’t have been a greater gift than Charlie’s letter. Though, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the messenger boy knocking on the door of the poor cobbler and his wife at the other end of Fisherman’s Road, and her heart broke for them, she couldn’t deny her own sense of relief. Charlie was alive. Charlie knew about the baby. At long last he had written.

His letter, however, made her feel his absence like a wallop on the head, and she longed to hear his voice and throw her arms round him. Suddenly light-headed with emotion, she held onto the frame of the bakery doorway to recover her balance, then, staggering a little, walked back inside the shop. She clutched the letter in her hand, shaking her head in disbelief. After all these months of waiting, she’d finally heard from him. Betty stopped sweeping up crumbs and, leaning her hands on the broom handle, stared at Audrey in concern.

‘Are you all right, Mrs Barton?’ she said. ‘Do you need to sit down? Have you had bad news?’

Audrey blinked. Music played quietly on the wireless and she felt as if time had stopped. All she could see and hear were Charlie’s handwritten words. They were as clear in her mind as if he’d spoken them into her ear.

‘No, thank you, Betty,’ said Audrey quietly. ‘I am perfectly well. In fact, I couldn’t be better. Charlie has written to me and for now at least, I know he is safe.’

Returning to her position behind the shop counter, Audrey pulled the ledger book from the drawer of the wooden till and tucked the letter inside for safekeeping.

‘That’s wonderful news, Mrs Barton,’ said Betty. ‘I’m pleased for you. You must miss him very much.’

Audrey unconsciously patted her pregnant bump and smiled.

‘I do,’ she said, and saw sadness pass like a shadow over Betty’s face. ‘Oh Betty, I’m sorry. I know you have your own heartache to endure.’

‘Actually,’ said Betty, propping the broom up against the wall. ‘A Canadian airman, called Sam, has invited me out tonight.’

Audrey’s attention had been momentarily drawn by two women who were admiring the window display and pointing at the plaster of Paris wedding cake cover. Folk still thought they were real.

‘Has he now?’ said Audrey. ‘And is this Canadian a handsome chap?’

‘He is,’ said Betty. ‘I like him, but, as you know, I’m still married to Robert. Do you think it’s okay if I…? Or does that make me as bad as him?’

The two women entered the shop, chatting to one another about the trials of shopping in wartime, and Audrey winked at Betty. ‘I think it’s okay,’ she said, ‘but I’d be honest right from the start. Hello, ladies,’ she went on quickly, ‘what can I get for you today?’

‘Have you heard?’ one said. ‘We were just in the shop when the messenger boy came. The cobbler’s boy is injured, but he’s going to be okay. They had a telegram, see. I’ve never seen people so glad.’

Audrey closed her eyes in relief before realising the irony of the whole thing. The cobbler and his wife were glad that their son was injured rather than killed. That’s how war made you: simply grateful to be alive.

Preparing the customer’s order, she noticed the wide grin on Betty’s face, and thought there must be something in the air today. Despite the horrors of war, there was a feeling of hope blowing around them, and even if it only lasted a day, or just a few hours, it was a reprieve for which Audrey was deeply grateful.

---

During the afternoon, the good weather broke. The sky over Southbourne turned pavement-grey, and unrelenting rain beat down against the bakery shop window, turning passers-by on the street into eerie dark blurs. The sea merged with the sky – but inside the bakery, the sun was still out and Betty hummed happily along to Music While You Work on the wireless. Though deep inside she feared that she might be playing with fire by going out with Sam, she couldn’t wait for the evening. She hadn’t felt this excited in a long while. After the terrible bombing in Bristol, the exploding skies and the crushed homes and dreams, she desperately wanted to feel like a normal young woman living a normal life. And, if Robert was enjoying himself with someone else, why shouldn’t she? Their marriage vows meant nothing to him, so why should she remain tied to a man who didn’t love her?

‘This is a new start,’ she told herself. ‘I won’t be held prisoner by Robert’s lies.’

When Audrey let her go from work early, she burst out of the bakery and ran, with a newspaper over her head and splashing through puddles, towards the bus stop, where she planned to catch the bus back to her digs and change into a different dress. While waiting for the bus to arrive, she wiped the rain from her face and squeezed the water from her hair. She was dreaming of conversations she would have with Sam, wondering how best to explain her situation, when she felt a firm hand grip her arm. Her heart hammering in her chest, she cricked her neck and turned to face Robert. Unshaven, his hair unclipped and with dark bags under his eyes and his collar turned up, he looked like an unkempt villain who had been out on the ale.

‘Betty,’ he said, in a tone of voice that made her blood run cold. ‘I’ve found you.’

‘Get your hand off me,’ she said, pulling at his fingers. ‘You’re hurting me.’

‘You ain’t seen nothing yet,’ he said. ‘You’re my wife! You can’t just up and leave me. Come with me. There’s something I need to tell you.’

He yanked her arm again and pulled her away from the bus stop, frogmarching her down the road. Betty sighed bitterly, watching the bus and her evening with Sam disappear into thin air. How could she have ever imagined, even for a second, that she could enjoy an evening out with a dashing young Canadian? She was a married woman. She had run away from home. She had stolen money. Her newfound freedom was never going to last.

‘Robert, I know all about you and Dor—’ she started, but Robert was quick to interrupt and silence her with his words.

‘You don’t know nothing,’ he said, gruffly. ‘Just hear me out.’

Mary thought she would burst if she had to wait much longer. Bagging and selling the stales for a penny had taken for ever and now, watching Audrey turn the shop sign to closed and sweep up the crumbs from the floor, she impatiently shifted from one foot to another.

‘Why are you acting so suspiciously, young lady?’ Audrey asked her after they’d closed up the shop for the day. ‘And where is everyone? I need to serve up dinner. We’re having fish salad tonight, with a slice of yesterday’s bread before it goes dry. That’s my one complaint about the National Loaf, Mary, it’s dry too soon. If there’s any fish salad left, it’ll do for fish and cabbage spread for Elsie’s sandwiches tomorrow— oh, I believe it’s Elsie’s night off tonight, isn’t it? I hope so. That girl works more hours a week than anyone else I know. She draws a good wage of course, but she deserves a break.’

Mary nodded obediently while Audrey chattered happily on, all the while clutching her small gift of a quart of pear drops bought from Old Reg, and a home-made card, behind her back. Lily had arranged for Elsie, William, Pat and Uncle John to be in the kitchen to surprise Audrey with a birthday tea, and it was Mary’s job to keep her downstairs in the shop until they were ready at six o’clock on the dot. Burning a hole into the wall clock with her gaze, she couldn’t hold her excitement in any longer. The second the big hand hit twelve, she jumped up and down on the spot.

‘Happy birthday, Audrey!’ she said, handing her the sweets and the card and throwing her arms round Audrey’s expansive middle. ‘Shall we go upstairs into the kitchen, so you can read my card with a cup of tea?’

‘Oh Mary,’ said Audrey, laughing and kissing the top of her head. ‘Thank you. Aren’t you thoughtful! But where did you get the money for these sweets?’

Mary felt herself blush, but she shrugged, gently pushing Audrey towards the stairwell and the kitchen.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You must want some tea.’

‘Okay,’ said Audrey, laughing gently. ‘But where is everyone?’

Mary’s heart pounded in her chest as Audrey approached the kitchen door, more slowly than usual thanks to the baby growing in her belly. She so wanted to have got the surprise celebration right and could hardly wait to unveil her banana cake.

Hearing a muffled giggle followed by ‘Shhh’ as they approached the kitchen, Audrey turned round to look at Mary with an inquisitive grin on her face. Mary shrugged as if she didn’t know anything and nervously watched Audrey place her hand on the doorknob and carefully open the door. When a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ burst forth as Audrey walked into the room, she threw back her head and laughed out loud. William, accompanying on the mouth harp, finished the song with an impressive trill and everyone clapped and cheered.

‘Oh Mary,’ Audrey said, placing her hands on Mary’s shoulders while she looked at the kitchen table where Elsie and Lily had been busy setting out a birthday tea. The tablecloth had been laid out on the kitchen table and the best glasses were turned upside down, waiting to be used. In the middle stood a plate of fish paste and cabbage sandwiches, and a jug of lemonade made with saccharine tablets was covered with a crocheted jug cover. Uncle John, with his white shirt sleeves rolled up, held out a chair for Audrey to sit down on and William tucked his mouth harp into his pocket. Dressed in a striped blouse, with her copper curls piled on her head, Lily handed Audrey a card and a small gift. And Pat, who had attached a brooch to her jacket and wore a pretty scarf round her neck, proudly handed her a knitted tea cosy.

‘I made it for you,’ said Pat. ‘I hope you like it. I haven’t wrapped it. Well, it would be wrong, what with the waste paper drive on.’

‘I love it,’ said Audrey. ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘A man in my class made my gift,’ Lily said, making everyone laugh, as Audrey unwrapped a small wood carving of a seagull.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Audrey said, turning the seagull over in her hands. ‘Thank you. Gracious, I’m bowled over by this!’

Mary beamed at Audrey, suddenly remembering the cake she’d made.

‘There’s something else too,’ she said. ‘Close your eyes and hold out your hands.’

Audrey closed her eyes as Mary placed a plate in her hands.

‘Ooh, you’re going to love this!’ said Lily.

‘You better share it with us,’ said John. ‘Don’t be keeping it all for yourself!’

‘Can I open my eyes now?’ asked Audrey, cracking open one eye and staring in surprise at the plate, where there was a yellow blob of melted mock icing smeared over a length of bread, with a candle stuck in the middle. Registering Mary’s expectant expression, full of hopeful anticipation, and feeling her heart might burst with gladness, Audrey broke out into joyful laughter.

‘It’s a banana cake,’ said Mary, blushing. ‘It’s meant to look like a banana, but there’s no banana in it!’

Audrey carefully placed the plate down on the table, smiled at Uncle John, who winked at her, and hugged Mary to her belly. She kissed her on the top of her head.

‘Oh Mary, this looks quite delicious,’ she said. ‘How many years has it been since any of us has had a banana? Let me try a little piece.’

There was a moment of quiet as they all watched Audrey slice off a tiny piece and eat it. Audrey tried her hardest not to cringe, but the mustard powder was burning the roof of her mouth, and her cheeks were flushing boiling red.

‘Gosh! Do I have steam coming out of my ears?’ she spluttered. ‘That’s a very… unusual flavour, Mary. Is it mustard powder? Lots of mustard powder?’

Mary nodded. She covered her mouth with her hand but couldn’t help bursting out into laughter. She was soon joined by everyone in the room, including Audrey, whose sides ached with laughing. For a brief wonderful moment, they were all laughing so hard it felt like they would never stop.

‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ said Audrey, wiping her eyes. ‘Maybe I should make that one of our new wartime cakes! Certainly warm people up in the winter months!’

Still laughing, Audrey broke out into a cough, but then it stopped abruptly and she doubled over in pain, gripping the edge of the table to support herself. Pat, William, Lily, John and Elsie all immediately jumped up from their seats and moved towards her. A hush descended over the group.

‘Are you unwell, Audrey?’ Pat said, taking her arm. ‘Is it the baby?’

Audrey felt the concern of everyone in the room like a warm, soft blanket, but she didn’t want to ruin the occasion by worrying them.

‘Goodness,’ she gasped, forcing herself to smile. ‘If there wasn’t still a month to go, I’d think the baby was coming. He or she must be eager to get out!’

‘Let me call the doctor out,’ said Lily. ‘I think you should tell him what’s been going on. I’ll run and get him. He won’t mind.’

‘Oh, please don’t bother him,’ said Audrey. ‘He’s such a busy man at the moment.’

‘I will phone him and ask him to visit,’ said Lily. ‘You need to be honest about the pains you’ve been having. What if the baby’s in trouble? Here, sit down.’

Suddenly feeling very unsure of herself, Audrey felt the fight drain out of her. She sat down heavily in the chair. Yes, maybe she did need to see the doctor. It was just that she could not bear to hear what he had to say. What if he gave her bad news?

‘What pains? What’s been going on?’ said Pat, indignant. ‘John, do you know about this?’

John, who had stuffed a sandwich into his mouth, didn’t even finish chewing before he leapt to his own defence.

‘What am I getting the blame for now?’ he said. ‘Course I didn’t know! I would’ve been the first to tell her to get some help.’

‘Well, you’re here every day,’ said Pat. ‘Why didn’t you notice that she’s been having pains? I certainly would have done.’

‘Oh well, you’re bleeding perfect, Pat!’ said John.

Audrey held her hands up to quieten everyone down.

‘Nobody’s to blame but me,’ she said, fiddling with the edges of the tablecloth. ‘It’s true that I’ve had a few aches but they’re not bad. The baby is moving – a lot – so surely that’s all that matters?’

‘What about you, though?’ said Pat. ‘You’re just as important as the baby.’

‘Listen, everyone, don’t worry,’ said Audrey. ‘Let’s enjoy these sandwiches before another siren goes off and we’re stuck in the shelter.’

Audrey tried not to notice them all glancing anxiously at one another. Feeling Mary’s hand slip into her own, she squeezed it gently to reassure her, though in truth, she felt suddenly vulnerable. All along she had been thinking about the baby and had been reassured that it was kicking and spinning around, but what about herself? Perhaps it would be wise to see the doctor, after all.

---

Later, Doctor Morris arrived in his smart, dark suit and, with Mary and Lily crowded into Audrey’s bedroom, inspected Audrey’s bump. Listening with his stethoscope for what felt like an inordinate amount of time, he felt all around her belly and asked her various questions, his thick black eyebrows knotted.

‘I think you’re suffering with heartburn, but it’s also quite tight for space in there,’ he said. ‘That’s why you’re having pains. One of your nerves is getting in the way of the babies.’

‘Baby,’ Audrey quickly corrected him.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled a knowing smile, which confused Audrey.

‘You said babies,’ she said. ‘It’s baby. I’m having a baby.’

Chuckling a little, the doctor began packing away his equipment into his black doctor’s bag and then sat on the edge of the bed, leaning across to pat Audrey on the hand.

‘Mrs Barton,’ he said. ‘Do you know you’re having twins?’

Audrey, now leaning with her back against the headboard, sat more upright as she tried to digest the doctor’s words. Lily and Mary gasped.

‘You mean…’ stuttered Audrey. Her hand flew to her throat. ‘Two babies?’

Her eyes scanned the room, briefly meeting Lily and Mary’s before settling on the photograph of Charlie.

‘Well, blow me,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what to say or think! Two?’

‘Twins.’ Lily laughed. ‘That’s amazing!’

‘Yes.’ The doctor laughed as well. ‘You’re going to be a mother of two.’

‘Three,’ said Audrey, quick as a flash. ‘I’m going to be a mother of three. Mary here is my eldest daughter.’

‘Then you’re going to have two siblings, young lady,’ said the doctor to Mary, whose eyes had grown wide in her face. ‘I’ll arrange for an experienced midwife to come and visit you. Twin births are more dangerous, so we’ll need to take good care of you.’

‘Well I never,’ Audrey said, stunned. She whispered into the room: ‘How on earth will I manage?’

Lifting herself up to sitting, she tried to digest the news. Two babies. Charlie overseas. A war on and a bakery to run.

‘Mrs Barton, if anyone can manage,’ the doctor said with a smile, offering her a Nuttall’s Mintoe to relieve the heartburn, ‘I believe it’s you.’