‘…and then there’s those poor people in Greece,’ said Uncle John, scrubbing his hands in the sink, his white shirt sleeves rolled up. ‘They’re eating boiled daisies and thistles because they’re starving to death!’

Audrey put down the cabbage she was about to chop and leaned her weight on the countertop as John continued.

‘…and the poor children are searching for orange peel in the rubbish,’ he said. ‘Bless their sorry hearts. Oh, it ain’t right, Audrey, it’s murder by a different name. We can only hope this war is over soon, too many innocent people are tangled up in the whole blasted mess.’

He threw the towel he was drying his hands on down onto the table, folded his arms, sighed and offered Audrey a world-weary smile, a dusting of flour in his eyebrows and on the hair in his nostrils.

‘Oh John, I can’t stand to hear any more of it,’ Audrey said, aware that Mary was half-listening from her spot at the kitchen table where she was polishing the cutlery ready for their guest Sam to arrive. ‘It’s heartbreaking. It makes you grateful for every crust.’

‘You should tell any customers complaining about the National Loaf what I just told you about what some Greek people are enduring,’ he said. ‘That will keep them quiet.’

Audrey sighed, thinking of some of the sorry sights she saw in the bakery.

‘I don’t know, John, I think some aren’t far off starving themselves,’ she said sadly. ‘One of our customers, Carol Shaw, that lady from Belle Vue Road, is raising six children on her own in one room on half a shoestring. I always slip extra bread or cakes in her order if she comes in, but I don’t know how she gets by, I really don’t. Her father was recently prosecuted by the Bournemouth Bench for begging, which doesn’t help. He was selling bags of lavender to help her with a few pennies, poor old soul, so now she’s really got nothing.’

‘I’ll make sure she gets some vegetables from the allotment,’ said John. ‘The potatoes and onions are doing nicely. I’ll go up there in the morning to see what I can pull up for her.’

‘You should take some time to rest in the morning after working all night, that’s what,’ said Audrey, pointing a fork at him.

‘I could say the exact same thing to you,’ he said, with mischief in his eyes. ‘Why don’t you go and relax, Audrey? You could play bowls at Meryick Park. The women’s season has started, and bowls would be the perfect antidote to all this war talk.’

‘I haven’t got time for bowls!’ Audrey said, laughing. ‘Besides, they should use the bowling greens for allotments. Mary, please could you run and tell William and Lily that dinner will be in half an hour? That’s when we’re expecting Sam and Betty. Elsie is working again tonight and Pat too, driving the book van out to the military in the lonely spots.’

‘That’s my sister for you,’ said John. ‘Driving people up the wall. No, I can’t do her down. She’s a grafter all right. In fact, she’s the one who should probably be resting! She’s not getting any younger and it can’t be easy, having a son away fighting.’

At that moment William came into the room. He’d obviously made an effort with his appearance and was clean shaven, but he looked pale and distracted. Audrey felt her heart sink. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him properly about his trip to Eastbourne, but she knew she had to. The problems William had were complex and difficult to treat – but Audrey was sure that with enough home-cooked dinners, fresh sea air, sunshine, love and understanding, he’d get there one day. It was just going to take a lot longer than she and Elsie had first thought.

‘I’ve just checked the ovens, John,’ William said. ‘The fires are doing fine.’

‘Good,’ said John. ‘Thanks, lad. Let’s enjoy our dinner before we get back to work. Now, what can I get you? A Johnnie Walker?’

Lily, Mary and Joy came into the kitchen, Lily chatting about whether Bournemouth would see the usual number of Whitsun holidaymakers that year, and they waited for Sam and Betty to arrive. When they came upstairs, Betty was pink with embarrassment. With her hair newly washed and gleaming, a smidgeon of orange-red lipstick and dressed in one of the frocks Audrey had given her altered to fit her tiny frame, she looked almost doll-like next to Sam, who was a big, strapping lad, with his blond hair swept away from his face and his uniform perfectly pressed. He presented Audrey with a bouquet of roses, which made her gasp.

‘They’re beautiful!’ she said, inhaling their scent. ‘My goodness, thank you.’

She was delighted with them, of course, but they must have cost him a pretty penny.

‘This is my friend, Sam,’ Betty said. ‘Sam, these are my…’

‘Friends,’ said Lily, holding out her hand to Sam. ‘Lovely to meet you. This is Audrey Barton, who runs the bakery. William, her brother, Uncle John, little Mary and my daughter Joy.’

Audrey shook Sam’s hand and smiled at the young couple, who were a handsome pair.

‘It’s good to be here,’ he said, clearly slightly overwhelmed by the number of people staring at him. ‘Feels a lot like home.’

He seemed wistful and Audrey was reminded of when Jacques had stayed at the bakery for a few days of respite. Then, as she did now, she had an overwhelming desire to make sure Sam was made to feel completely welcome. Quickly, she pulled out a chair for him and passed him Uncle John’s untouched drink.

‘Johnnie Walker,’ she said. ‘To welcome you. We have brown stew, cabbage and carrots for dinner. I’ve used all the meat ration so we can enjoy a good meal.’

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘You’re so generous. All of the folk I’ve met have been so welcoming to us Canadian boys. I think we can be a little too much at times. Loud, at any rate.’

He laughed a hearty laugh and Audrey placed the pot on the table, opening up a lid to reveal a steaming, deliciously fragrant stew. After she’d served it and the dishes of cabbage, carrots and boiled potatoes were passed around, the group tucked into their meal with enthusiasm, murmuring with pleasure.

‘Good tucker, as always,’ said Uncle John, who had tucked his napkin in his shirt collar. Audrey smiled and lifted a forkful of food to her mouth, but stopped when there was a hammering on the front door.

‘Goodness,’ she said. ‘Whoever can that be?’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said John, helping himself to more vegetables. ‘Just enjoy your dinner. You’re eating for three now, remember? I’m joining you for moral support.’

Laughing at John and moving over to the window, she peered under the net curtain and down to the street. Pushing up the sash window, she leaned out and, on seeing a small child, frowned.

‘I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me for a moment. There’s a child waiting at the door,’ she said. ‘Might be one of the evacuees lost, or a little scamp in search of a penny bun. I’ll go and see. You carry on. I’m not very hungry, if I’m honest. Dreadful heartburn.’

She made her way down the narrow wooden stairs, her hand resting on her bump, then unbolted the door and was surprised to find not just one child but three standing there, with a man behind them. Running her eyes over the children, she initially thought they must be from a bombed-out house and looking for shelter or help – they were grubby, tired and looked like they hadn’t seen a good dinner in a while.

‘Can I help you?’ she said. ‘Are you in need? I’ve got some stales I will happily give you. Well, they’re called stales, but they’re perfectly good—’

The man shook his head.

‘No, thank you, I’m looking for someone, mind if we come in?’ he said, pushing past her into the hallway. ‘I’ve come to see Betty. I know she’s here, I saw her walking this way. Where is she? Betty!’

The man called out Betty’s name again as he headed towards the staircase, and Audrey realised who this man must be: Robert.

‘Oh, I—’ she said, trying to work out what she should do, but primarily distracted by the three little children, whose faces told a story of exhaustion. They varied in age. Audrey guessed at around five, three and maybe just over a year, and they must be siblings because they all looked to be cut from the same block. On hearing footsteps behind her, Audrey spun on her heel to see Betty at the bottom of the stairs, leaning her hand against the wall, her face the picture of shock.

‘Robert?’ Betty said. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

Robert put down the little girl he was holding, who started to cry in earnest, sticking her little arms in the air, wanting to be lifted up into the arms of a warm parent. When Robert ignored her, Audrey lifted her up instead, and hoisted her up onto her hip. She gave the child the door keys she had in her hand to hold and inspect, and the little girl was instantly calmed.

‘I told you I’d come back for you,’ Robert said, approaching Betty and gripping her hands in his. ‘Please, love, I’m sorry for what’s happened, but I need you in Bristol. We need you.’

Betty’s eyes were huge as her eyes ran over the three children’s dear little faces. The blood drained from her face and Audrey worried that she might faint.

‘We?’ Betty said, utterly bewildered. ‘Robert, are these your children?’

Audrey watched Betty’s eyes fill with tears. There was no denying that Robert’s children were adorable little things, all with huge, searching eyes, rosebud lips and wavy dark hair. They didn’t seem to know what was happening and the boy hid his head in the overcoats hanging by the door. Then the middle one, another girl, started to whimper. Audrey knelt down to soothe her.

‘What is it, petal?’ Audrey asked. ‘Don’t cry.’

‘I’m hungry,’ the smallest girl said in a tiny voice. ‘My tummy hurts.’

Robert faced Audrey, shame casting a shadow across his features, and mumbled something about it being a long time since they’d stopped for toast for breakfast in a café.

‘Well, if it’s all right with your father, you little ones can come with me,’ said Audrey. ‘I’ve some teacakes need toasting and some Fry’s cocoa needs drinking.’

The girl in Audrey’s arms dropped the door keys and the boy peered out from behind the coats.

‘Come on,’ Audrey said gently. ‘There’s nothing to be frightened of.’

‘But…’ said Betty, anxiously looking at Audrey, her eyes darting. ‘What about Sam?’

‘Who’s Sam?’ asked Robert.

Audrey bit her lip as another pair of footsteps descended the stairs and Sam appeared, handsome and wholesome in contrast to Robert.

‘I’m Sam,’ he said, smiling uncertainly. ‘Who’s asking?’

‘I’m Robert, Betty’s husband,’ Robert said gruffly. ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘Husband?’ Sam asked, jerking his head towards Betty questioningly. When Betty dropped her eyes in shame and embarrassment, he was taken aback.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure what’s going on here but I think I should be on my way. Thank you, Mrs Barton, for the delicious dinner. Betty, thank you for asking me along. Good night, all.’

‘But Sam,’ said Audrey, repositioning the child on her hip because the muscles in her lower back were beginning to burn with pain. ‘There’s no need to take flight, I’m sure Betty will explain what’s…’

With panicked eyes, Audrey looked from Betty to Sam, willing Betty to step forward and say something, anything, but Betty seemed to be frozen to the spot and unable to offer any explanation. With Robert glaring furiously at her, it was all too much for the young girl, Audrey could see that.

‘Well, perhaps you could visit again another day,’ said Audrey, showing him out of the door. ‘You’re always welcome here. Always. Thank you for the roses…’

Sam couldn’t leave fast enough, and once she’d closed the door behind him, Audrey sighed, silently reprimanding herself for letting this situation get out of hand. Having Sam to dinner had been her idea. Betty had been reluctant to invite him but Audrey had forged ahead, thinking she was doing the kind-hearted thing.

‘Maybe you’d like to explain who the hell Sam is,’ said Robert roughly.

‘That’s rich coming from you, Robert Mitchell!’ said Betty, suddenly finding her voice.

‘I should think you’re the rich one, more like,’ he spat. ‘Since you’ve taken my life savings with you!’

‘What did you expect me to do?’ snapped Betty. ‘Survive on thin air? You never let me keep a penny of what I earned!’

‘That ain’t true!’ he said. ‘I kept all our money in one place.’

‘You probably spent it on Doris,’ said Betty. ‘Didn’t you?’

The mention of Doris’s name made the little boy burst into tears. Audrey held on to his hand as he wept into her apron.

‘For goodness’ sake,’ Audrey snapped. ‘Put your troubles aside for a moment and consider these three little souls. These kiddies need a good feed and a warm bath. You two can sort yourselves out like grown-ups, while I get these three a toasted teacake and a warm drink.’

Carrying in her arms the smallest, sleepiest child, who had now rested the side of her head against Audrey’s shoulder and was sucking her thumb, Audrey led the children upstairs to the warm kitchen and closed the door behind her, giving Robert and Betty time to be alone.

---

Betty felt shame rinse through her as she watched Audrey lead Robert’s three children upstairs and disappear into the warmth of the kitchen where, up until five minutes ago, she had been glowing with happiness. It was her own fault that the evening had been ruined. If she’d told Robert clearly that she didn’t want to see him again, then he wouldn’t have been here now. If she’d explained the truth to Sam, he wouldn’t have been here either. Instead, she’d not been brave enough with either man, which made her just as spineless as Robert, didn’t it? It was all her fault. Plonking herself down to perch on the edge of the second stair, on threadbare red carpet, she leaned forward onto her knees and rested her chin in her hand, sighing.

‘Do you want to come for a walk?’ Robert asked softly, fetching her coat from the hallstand and holding it out towards her. ‘So we can talk about this in private?’

Betty shook her head and stared at the hardwood floor for a moment.

‘You can say what you want to say here,’ she said. ‘Besides, you can’t just leave your children upstairs in a house where they don’t know a soul!’

He leaned against the wall, which was covered in bold floral wallpaper and trimmed with a matching border. For a moment, he seemed defeated, her coat slipping out of his hand and onto the floor.

‘I didn’t expect you to be carrying on with a Canadian soldier,’ he said, ‘that’s for sure.’

‘I wasn’t “carrying on” with him,’ Betty said. ‘He’s a friend. I stay near him and pass the time of day with him, that’s all.’

Her cheeks warmed at her lie. In truth, she’d been quite taken with Sam and looked forward to seeing him every morning and evening, but Robert didn’t need to know that.

‘Did you tell him you were married?’ Robert said.

‘No,’ she said. ‘How could I? You were married to someone else, until she was killed. I loved you, Robert, with my whole heart, and what we went through in Bristol, being bombed out and seeing our friends’ and neighbours’ lives destroyed, I thought nothing else could shock me. But when I found out you’d been leading a double life, I questioned everything. Our whole marriage was a sham! I wondered what I’d done wrong, how I could have been a better wife and what I should have done differently to keep you to myself. Then I started to think, it’s not me who’s in the wrong, it’s you! You’ve lied to me for years. You’ve told me that we shouldn’t have kids, while all the time having your own family round the corner. I can’t just forget all that and come back as if nothing has happened.’

Betty was desperate to cry, the weeks of heartbreak and disappointment catching up with her, but, aware that she was in Audrey’s hallway while the bakery family were in the kitchen upstairs, probably listening in, she tried her hardest to hold in her tears.

‘Why are you here, Robert?’ she said quietly. ‘Can’t you just let me get on with my life?’

Robert was silent for a moment while he stared at his shoes, and then, without lifting his eyes from the floor, he mumbled his reply.

‘Doris’s sister said she can’t keep the kiddies,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with them. Might have to send them to the Waifs and Strays Society.’

Betty stood up and stared at Robert in astonishment.

‘You’d really do that?’ she said. ‘Just get rid of them? Your own flesh and blood?’

‘If you don’t come home, Betty love,’ he said, his voice deadly serious, ‘I might be left with no bleedin’ choice.’

---

‘Look who I have here,’ said Audrey to William, Lily, Mary, Joy and John, who had cleared away the plates and were sitting at the table, waiting to hear what was going on. ‘Three little ones in need of some food and drink. I’ve just learned their names. This is Dora, Vera and Cyril.’

Audrey was desperate for the three children not to hear Robert and Betty’s raised voices. If they’d recently lost Doris, their mother, how confused and frightened must the little mites be feeling already? They had no idea who Betty was. As if reading her thoughts, Mary jumped down from her chair and ran to greet the children, hugging each of them in turn. From downstairs, Audrey heard a door slam shut. She smiled reassuringly at Dora, who, despite being just a baby, was obviously aware of the tension in the air; she was clinging to the strap of Audrey’s apron.

‘That’s kind, Mary,’ Audrey said. ‘Would you like to show Cyril your jigsaw? How old are you, Cyril?’

‘Nearly six,’ he said.

‘So grown up!’ Audrey said. ‘William, perhaps you could hold Vera for a moment and I’ll carry on holding little Dora, since she’s attached herself to my apron! Lily, would you toast some teacakes for the children and I’ll put some cocoa on.’

Audrey lifted Vera up onto William’s knee and was delighted to see, despite the surreal turn of events, a grin break over his face when the child grabbed hold of his thumbs and giggled.

‘She likes you,’ said Mary, mesmerised by the younger children. Audrey was about to tell Mary what a good older sister she was going to be when the babies were born, when she was interrupted by Betty throwing open the kitchen door. As she rushed towards a seat and flung herself down, she was as white as flour.

‘What is it?’ said Audrey. ‘What have you done with Robert?’

‘He’s gone off!’ she said. ‘He stomped off into the night in a rage.’

‘How could he?’ said Lily, running over to the window, throwing it open and peering outside. ‘What right has he got to leave his kids abandoned in a stranger’s h—’

Audrey touched Lily gently on the back to get her attention and said ‘Shhh,’ sliding her eyes towards Cyril, whose bottom lip was wobbling. ‘He’ll be back, Cyril. I expect his thoughts are a bit muddled just now. As I understand it, you’ve all had a lot to adjust to in recent months. Everyone needs a bit of time. He knows you three are safe here with us. Why don’t we get the fire going, see if I can’t find a story while we’re waiting for Dad? How does that sound?’

‘I’ve got some blankets,’ said Mary. She dashed out the room and returned carrying blankets from the beds. ‘If anyone is cold, they can wrap up in these.’

Audrey eyed Betty, willing her to be as positive and upbeat as the rest of them were trying to be, but she was staring out of the window, looking totally forlorn.

‘Betty!’ Audrey snapped. ‘Why don’t you come and sit by the fire? You can have this Johnnie Walker that poor Sam never got round to drinking to bolster you.’

‘Oh no, thank you,’ said Betty. ‘I should keep a clear head. I’ll help with the little ones – after all, they’re here because of me.’

‘They’re no burden,’ said Audrey, smiling as William held on to Vera’s little hands and rocked his knees up and down to gently bump her as if on horseback. ‘They’re lovely little things. Shall I pour this back in the bottle then? Can’t be wasting the stuff.’

‘Give it here,’ said John, taking the glass and drinking it down in one. ‘After this evening’s comings and goings, I won’t say no to another one neither.’