Left in charge of the shop, Betty stood in the doorway, craning her neck left and right to see if Robert was anywhere in sight or whether, when he realised he’d left his children behind, he might come crawling back. But, apart from Old Reg chalking up a sign for toffee-dipped carrots on sticks as a treat for children who were missing sweets and chocolates, the street was empty.

‘Robert Mitchell,’ she muttered under her breath, ‘you’ve some nerve running from the police!’

Wondering if any of what he’d recounted about rescuing people in the air raid was actually true, she sighed and went back inside the shop. Scanning the shelves of remaining loaves and the almost empty trays of counter goods, she noticed Cyril eyeing up a carrot cake.

‘I’ll get you a slice out of my wages,’ she said, feeling suddenly desperately sorry for Robert’s three children. As Cyril darted off behind the counter, she wondered what was going through their young heads. First, they’d lost their mother and now their father was acting like a criminal!

‘Perhaps it’s my fault,’ she thought, blushing. Perhaps he’d had to resort to crime because she’d taken his money, leaving him penniless? Rubbing her hands together anxiously, she went back behind the counter – and tripped as she almost stepped on a leg. Vera’s leg.

‘What are you doing?’ Betty cried, startled. ‘I almost trod on you!’

Hiding behind the counter, huddled together on the floor like fledglings on the branch of a tree, were Vera, Dora and now Cyril, all of them looking up at her with enormous button-brown eyes that seemed to blink with the deliberation of a doll. Stacked in a tower next to Cyril, who had his arm proprietorially over them, were their three gas mask cases.

‘Are you our dad’s friend, miss?’ asked Cyril, which almost broke Betty’s heart. She knelt down next to the trio and thought carefully about what she should say.

‘Yes,’ she said generously, ‘I’m Robert’s friend. He’s had to go out for a while. I’m not sure how long he will be. He’s done something naughty and he needs time to work it out, but…’

Dora started to cry and Betty sighed, glancing over at Lily, who was pulling a worried face.

‘…but I’ll look after you,’ she found herself saying, patting the little girl’s head. ‘Lily, can you manage on your own for a little bit while I find something for these little ones to do? Maybe there’s a jigsaw, or you could play in the backyard.’

Betty desperately tried to think of something that these three children would like to do.

‘Course I can,’ Lily said. ‘I’m not due into the library until tomorrow. Mary has Joy outside in the yard, they’re playing marbles, so you could all go out there to play. Or better still, why don’t you take them down to the promenade for half an hour? Nobody’s allowed on the sand at the moment, thanks to the wartime restrictions, but there’s a great big pile of sand that’s blown up onto the promenade and little ones can have fun in there. You could get them one of Reg’s toffee carrots on a stick too. They’re a halfpenny each. They’ll help you see in blackout – or so he claims!’

Betty nodded, grateful to Lily, and glanced down at the children. They were still in yesterday’s clothes, but they were now all smiling. Having never looked after three children all at once, she suffered a moment of self-doubt. Could she properly take care of them?

‘I’m not sure if I can—’ she started, but Lily interrupted.

‘If I can do it,’ she said, reading her mind, ‘you can. Besides, there’ll be another two joining us soon enough. We better get used to taking care of little ones.’

Audrey lay on top of the bed in silence, propped up against a pile of pillows, the floral eiderdown draped over her bent knees. Letting the waves of pain roll over her, she held on to Pat and Elsie’s hands, refusing to release the scream that threatened to burst out of her lungs. She didn’t want to scare any of the kiddies in the bakery, or indeed her customers, many of whom had given birth numerous times, probably while preparing a hotpot for dinner and darning socks at the same time!

Instead, she counted through the contractions and fixed her gaze on the sky out the window. Brilliantly blue, white clouds tore across it as if pulled on a string, the sea breeze rattling the panes of glass in the weather-beaten wooden frames. A fat seagull landed for a second on the windowsill and peered into the room before crying out and flying away. She imagined Charlie, wherever he was in the world, looking up at the same sky and tried to tell him, telepathically, that she was in labour. Perhaps the wind would blow her message to him: that she longed for him to be home, pacing the wooden floorboards in the corridor outside their bedroom door, waiting for news of the twins. This was the biggest moment of their married life and they were hundreds of miles apart. She was determined not to feel sorry for herself – she knew she wasn’t the only woman having babies while her husband was away. She tried to channel all their energy.

‘You’re thinking about Charlie, aren’t you, love?’ said Pat, holding a cool, damp cloth against her brow. ‘Just imagine how happy he’s going to be when he comes home on leave to meet his babies. My son’s not one for emotional outpourings, but he loves you, Audrey, and he will be a brilliant father when he comes home. Just like his father was to him, bless his soul.’

Nobody said the unmentionable, but Audrey knew they had all thought the same thing, if only fleetingly: if he comes home. Almost every day it seemed someone she knew received a telegram bringing bad news about their son, brother or husband.

‘I’ve wanted this for so long,’ she whispered, thinking of all the months and years gone by that she’d hoped and prayed she would have caught, only to discover she hadn’t, yet again. ‘I can’t believe it’s happening. I only hope I can be a good mother, like my own mother was before my father died.’

Her thoughts went to her mother, Daphne, in London, and she felt relieved that they had at last made amends. She imagined writing to her as soon as the babies were born and hoped Daphne and her step-father, Victor would be able to visit them – if travel was permitted. Closing her eyes as yet another wave of pain washed over her, her body moving the first baby into position, she breathed deeply and pushed with all her energy.

‘That’s it, love,’ said Pat, dabbing her forehead, where Audrey’s hair was stuck to her with sweat. ‘You’re nearly there. You know some women now are having analgesics in hospital to relieve the pain, so you’re doing so well coping on your own. You’re going to need a good strong cup of tea after this and then you’ll be right as rain.’

From nowhere, the thought of those poor mothers and the new babies who had been killed in the Mill Road Hospital in Liverpool, by a Luftwaffe bombing raid, filled her mind. Audrey felt like screaming again – a blood-curdling scream that would shatter all the windows in Fisherman’s Road – but she managed to hold it inside.

‘You will be a wonderful mother,’ said Elsie. ‘You already are, to dear little Mary. These twins will be the luckiest babies in Bournemouth.’

Audrey felt she was dangerously close to losing control of her emotions. Thoughts and feelings bombarded her and a lump grew in her throat when she thought about Mary. These last few weeks she’d been so caring and sweet with Audrey, helping her when she could and doing jobs like polishing her boots, or knitting up baby socks with old scraps of wool. Audrey had no doubt she was going to make a loving big sister to the twins and she would make sure that Mary never felt any different to them; she would soon be a mother of three, all of them equally treasured and loved.

‘Oohh,’ Audrey said, when, after a moment’s reprieve, she felt instinctively that this push was the one. Gritting her teeth, she gripped onto Pat and Elsie’s hands and pushed until she felt a great sense of release and the first baby was born.

‘Congratulations!’ Pat said, ‘Your first baby is a girl.’

‘Oh Audrey,’ Elsie said, tears running down her face. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

Pat handed the baby girl to Audrey and she kissed her, crying with pure joy, but she hadn’t yet finished. There was another to be born. She breathed through the pain and pushed with every bit of energy she had, and the second baby came into the world to a cheer from the women in the room.

‘And this time you have a boy!’ Pat said, laughing, her voice breaking with emotion and her face wet with tears.

‘Oh, gracious me, what beautiful twins,’ said Elsie. ‘Double the love.’

Audrey wept with exhausted happiness as both babies were placed in her arms. Checking over every inch of their tiny bodies, she marvelled at the two new lives in her care, silently vowing to love, nurture and protect them with her whole self, forever more.

‘What a blessing to have a girl and a boy,’ she whispered, as she gazed at their faces in astonishment. ‘We must get word to Charlie and tell him we’ve been blessed with Bournemouth’s bonniest babies!’

Glancing up at Pat and Elsie, who had their eyes fixed on the twins and who were grinning from ear to ear, she erupted with joyous laughter, before feeling sudden tears spill down her cheeks.

‘Dear me,’ she said, wiping her eyes and shaking her head at herself. ‘I’m not myself. I’m crying with happiness, I think! I’m sorry.’

Elsie reached for Audrey’s hand and squeezed it tightly, while Pat tucked Audrey’s hair behind her ears.

‘Look what you’ve just done!’ said Pat, gently patting her hand. ‘You should be immensely proud of yourself. Time for tea and toast.’

Audrey smiled, overwhelmed with gratitude for her mother-in-law and sister-in-law’s help.

‘Thank you both,’ she said, her voice quivering. ‘For all your help and support through this and all the difficult times we’ve had. I couldn’t have done any of it without you.’

Elsie waved her hand in the air dismissively and Pat raised her eyebrows almost up to her hairline.

‘Ah,’ she said. ‘Now what is it that Roosevelt woman says? “A woman is like a tea bag – you can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water”.’

Audrey laughed through tears, and stared lovingly at the twins, wishing Charlie was there to greet them. She might be a strong woman, but she was weak with longing for her beautiful, tiny new twins.

Betty walked back to the bakery with three sun-kissed, happy children, their faces orange from their toffee-coated carrots on sticks, their socks and pockets filled with sand. Half-expecting Robert to be waiting at the bakery, ready to go barmy at her for taking the children off, she tentatively stepped inside and eyed Lily.

‘Has Robert been back?’ she asked. ‘We got a bit carried away in the sand and spotting sand lizards, didn’t we, Cyril? He wants to take a jam jar next time to catch one and keep it as his pet.’

Betty ruffled Cyril’s hair and the boy looked up at her and smiled. He seemed like a different boy to the one who had arrived with fear and confusion in his eyes only yesterday. This war had prematurely ended many a childhood, but a trip to the seaside had done Cyril no end of good.

‘No sign of Robert,’ said Lily, breaking out into a smile and pointing to the ceiling. ‘But listen, can you hear that noise? The babies have been born! Elsie just dashed down to announce their arrival. One girl and one boy.’

‘Oh, that’s lovely,’ said Betty. ‘Twins! Has she named them yet?’

‘Not that I know of,’ said Lily. ‘I’d love to go up and see them. Are you willing to watch the shop for a few minutes? Then you can go up too. I’m sure these three would like to see newborn twins?’

‘She probably won’t want all of us hanging around,’ said Betty, suddenly stricken with panic about what she was going to do with the children now that the babies had been born. ‘If Robert doesn’t come back, I’ll have to take them back to my digs.’

Lily pulled a worried face and popped upstairs to see the babies, leaving Betty alone in the shop. But she wasn’t alone for long.

‘Is it true?’ said Flo, popping her head in through the shop door. ‘Has she had twins?’

‘Has it happened?’ said John, walking in from the bakehouse. Betty nodded and John beamed, wiped his eyes with his hanky and clapped his hands together.

‘A boy and a girl,’ said Cyril, delighted to be imparting important news. Flo exclaimed with joy. John shook his head, mumbling something about ‘double trouble’.

‘What’s this?’ said Elizabeth, her head appearing beside Flo’s. ‘Has Audrey had the babies? Is she well?’

‘She’d had them!’ said Flo, nodding. ‘A boy and a girl. Ain’t that just the best news?’

‘I must go and knock round a few of the neighbours,’ said Flo. ‘They’ll all want to know the good news and we’ve all got bits to bring. Second-hand odds and ends, but they’ll come in useful.’

‘Did you want any bre…?’ asked Betty, but the women had gone before she finished her sentence. She found herself smiling nonetheless – the joyful news of Audrey’s twins being born was infecting everyone. When Lily came back down, she popped upstairs with Cyril, Vera and Dora to meet the twins and say congratulations.

‘Come in, loveys,’ said Audrey, already seemingly back to her normal self. ‘Come and meet the twins. I haven’t named them yet.’

The only hints that she’d just given birth were a few hairs out of place, pink cheeks and the babies themselves. Cyril went right up close to the twins and gently put his finger in one of the babies’ hands.

‘Cyril,’ said Betty, wondering if he should be doing that, but Audrey winked at her and smiled, as if to say it was all okay.

‘Are they real?’ said Vera from beside the bed. Audrey and Betty laughed.

‘Course they’re real,’ said Betty, still laughing. ‘They’ve just been born. They were safe and warm in Audrey’s tummy and now they’re out here.’

‘Safe and warm in the bakery?’ said Cyril, his big eyes on Betty.

‘Yes,’ said Betty, her heart going out to Cyril and his sisters. They were sweet kiddies, she’d give Robert that much.

After a few moments, Betty gathered up the children and told Audrey she would be taking them back to her digs at the Lansdowne, since there was no sign of Robert. She also wanted to find Sam to try to explain what was going on. ‘We don’t want to be under your feet,’ said Betty. ‘You’re busy enough now! Thanks for letting all of us stay last night.’

‘You’ll do nothing of the sort,’ Audrey said. ‘I’m going to put a pot of stew on in a minute. We’ll shuffle around a bit and then you can all stay here until you find out what’s going to happen. I’m sure Robert will come back soon. He probably just needs some time to sort himself out, and while he’s doing that, we can take care of you three little dots between us. Food might be a bit simple, but I’ll do the best I can with the vegetables from the allotment and we’ll never be short of bread. We can all pull together a bit, help each other out. How does that sound?’

Betty beamed from ear to ear, hitched Dora up onto her hip and pulled Cyril and Vera against her skirt. Cyril looked up at her expectantly. She smiled down at him, warmth swelling her heart.

‘That sounds wonderful,’ she said. ‘If you’re sure it’s not too much. Thank you, Audrey. There’s not many in this world with a heart as good as yours.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Audrey. ‘Anybody would do the same. What are we here for, if not to help each other out a bit? That’s what I want these two to grow up thinking, anyhow.’

Outside, Elsie leaned her back against the bakehouse’s brick wall, crossed her arms across her chest, tilted her neck so that her head was resting on the wall and followed the flight of a seagull gliding through the sky. She sighed. Watching Audrey’s babies being born had temporarily emptied her mind of all the worries that loomed above her head like a dark cloud. She’d forgotten, for the briefest moment, about the heinous war, and her father stuck in a camp on the Isle of Man, and about darling William’s deep-rooted grief and guilt. She’d been caught up with the joy of two new lives coming into the world and was full of admiration for Audrey. All of the girls doing war work were brave as anything, there was no denying that, but women going through childbirth were also brave. Taking on the responsibility of bringing up children to be peaceful, loving and kind humans was so important. A part of her wanted to experience that – to have her own child – but she didn’t think William was ready. Should you really bring new lives into the world when the old lives were in such a mess?

‘You look like you’re away with the fairies!’ said William, entering the backyard through the open gate and hobbling on his crutches towards her. He held a letter in his hand.

‘Audrey’s had her twins, a girl and a boy,’ she told him. ‘Mum and babies all doing fine.’

‘I’m an uncle!’ William grinned. ‘Uncle William has quite a ring to it.’

He shook his head in amazement, sighed happily and leaned against the wall next to Elsie, leaning his crutch up against it beside him. He turned his head to face her and she turned to face him. Their noses were inches apart, their lips upturned into small smiles.

‘I know you wrote to David’s mother,’ he said quietly. ‘She’s written to me.’

‘William, I—’ she started, dread and panic filling her stomach.

‘It’s all right,’ he said gently. ‘She wrote in her letter that she thought David would have done the same thing as me, and let the German soldier go. She said she understood how wretched I felt, and that I was one of many men making decisions they should never have had to make. She apologised for threatening us with her gun, which she said wasn’t loaded. She said both you and Audrey had written and that I was lucky to have two women who stuck by me, no matter what.’

He laughed and looked down at the floor briefly before returning his gaze to her eyes and kissing her lightly on the lips.

‘I just wanted her to understand how you have been affected,’ said Elsie. ‘That part of you—’

‘—died with David?’ William finished.

Elsie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘In a way, yes,’ she said, swallowing hard.

He nodded and took her hand in his, turning his gaze to the seagulls swooping across the sky so freely. Together they watched the gulls in silence, their hands linked, united, the faint cry of newborn babies trying out their lungs emerging from the bakery, reminding everyone in the vicinity that this was no time to think about the past or contemplate the future. The twins wanted feeding and by the sound of it, they wanted feeding now. War or no war.

‘Shall we go inside?’ Elsie asked. ‘I’m sure the twins would like to meet you.’

‘Yes,’ said William, a spark in his eye. ‘Let me welcome them to the world, in all its complicated glory.’