‘What about syrup of figs?’ said Pat, frowning. ‘Or we used to tie a lump of coal round a baby’s neck with a piece of string. That might help?’

‘I’m not tying a lump of coal round his neck!’ said Audrey irritably. ‘I can’t see how that would help at all – and it might strangle him, for goodness’ sake!’

‘Oh,’ said Pat indignantly, busying herself with pegging out freshly washed baby booties on a short line erected above the kitchen range. ‘There’s no need to take that tone.’

The first three weeks of the twins’ life had passed in a frenzied blur of feeding, crying and napping. The bakery was bursting at the seams with baby paraphernalia passed on from customers; a pram carriage for twins, knitted pram sets, matinee coats, tiny shoes and the ugly but vital gas helmets for babies that were always on hand in case of gas attacks. And two of everything!

Since Betty and the children were still staying at the bakery, after Robert had failed to return, it was a squeeze. Audrey’s kitchen, where she was now sitting with Mary and the twins, was piled high with jobs that needed doing: bakery paperwork, washing, darning and Mary’s school dress covered with fruit stains that she needed to clean off with lemon juice and salt. The list of things to do was longer than she was tall. She stared crossly at her mother-in-law, who was dressed in her WVS uniform and who, whenever she called in, dispensed more unwanted advice to a bewildered Audrey. Knowing very well that she was only trying to help, Audrey sighed and smiled an apologetic smile.

‘Sorry to be so rude, Pat,’ she said with an exhausted sigh, gazing at the twins lying together in a Moses basket. ‘I’ve not slept for days, some of the customers are late to pay their bills so I can barely afford to pay anyone and I’m worried sick about Donald. He’s not thriving like his sister and this runny nose and cough is worrying me. What am I doing wrong? I thought this would come naturally to me, but it’s tough.’

‘You’re not doing anything wrong at all,’ said Pat. ‘He might have croup. I think you should get the doctor to take a look at him. He’s got a bit of a fever running. Try not to worry about the bakery. Everyone’s pulling together and it’s all going well enough. Just concentrate on the babies for now.’

Audrey ran her fingertips under her eyebrows as if propping open her eyes and sighed anxiously, before leaning back in her chair.

‘Thank you, Pat, you’re right. I’ll see how he goes,’ she said, ‘and if he doesn’t pick up, yes, I’ll take him to see the doctor. Poor little mite, it’s such a worry.’

‘No word from Charlie?’ asked Pat. Audrey shook her head. She’d written to tell him about Donald and Emily, but he hadn’t replied.

‘I’m sure you’ll hear from him again soon,’ Pat said. ‘Right, I better get going. I’m helping with this book chain and there’s a lot to do.’

‘Book chain?’ asked Mary. ‘What’s that?’

‘Anyone who has any spare books or magazines has donated them for the waste paper drive for the war effort,’ explained Pat. ‘There’s seven chains and each one will be started by the mayor himself and they’ll all lead towards the Town Hall. People are leaving their books outside their front gates, so I’m going around to help pick them up. Would you like to help? Audrey, can you spare Mary?’

‘Mmm?’ said Audrey, distractedly, frowning as Donald started to grizzle. ‘What was that?’ She picked Donald up and rocked him gently.

‘Can you spare Mary?’ Pat repeated. ‘I could do with some help.’

‘Yes,’ said Audrey, undoing Donald’s top and spotting a little pink rash on his chest. ‘Yes, of course I can.’

‘Good,’ said Pat, stretching her hand out to Mary. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t rain.’

Audrey didn’t notice Mary and Pat leave the kitchen. She was too busy worrying about Donald and the strange cough he had. Holding him in her arms while Emily slept, she walked him to the window, thinking that the sunlight might do him good, but the brightness just made him howl even more. Hearing the crying, Lily came into the kitchen, carrying Joy. In her hand she carried a letter.

‘Is he getting worse?’ Lily asked, and Audrey nodded. ‘Yes. I think I should get the doctor. I’m terribly worried about him. He doesn’t seem right. Could you look after Emily for me while I go to Reg’s and call the doctor?’

‘Of course,’ Lily said, pushing the letter into her pocket and biting her lip.

‘Did you want to talk to me about that letter?’ Audrey said. ‘Is it from Jacques?’

‘It can wait.’ Lily smiled. ‘Donald is much more important.’

Lily took a seat in the kitchen while Joy played with some wooden blocks on the floor and Emily slept in her basket. It was moments like these when she wondered how on earth she’d got here. Her life had taken an unexpected turn, two years ago, when she’d fallen pregnant by her old boss, Henry Bateman. At the time she’d been working at the Ministry of Information in London and feeling as though she was at the beginning of an exciting career. Now, she was a single mother of a toddler and living with her stepsister in Bournemouth. She enjoyed her job at the library helping refugees with their English, but she knew she could do something much more exciting, like join the WRNS or the WAAF or ATS, given half a chance. There was a drive in Bournemouth to get women to join the services and Lily had been to a WAAF display in the square. She’d been transfixed and had wanted to join there and then. The trouble was, though, what to do about childcare?

And now, today, a letter had arrived containing another unexpected turn. Jacques had written again – and this time, just as she had suspected, he had asked for Lily’s hand in marriage. Unfolding the letter and smoothing out the paper on the kitchen table, Lily read and reread his words. He said life was too short to procrastinate, that he had fallen in love with her when they first met and that he wanted her to be his wife, and for them to share their lives together.

Thoughts tumbled through Lily’s mind. Jacques didn’t know about Joy – she had yet to write and tell him. And even if he did accept Joy, something in Lily’s mind bristled at his choice of words: ‘to share their lives’. No matter how much she liked Jacques, a small secret part of her wanted to keep her life for herself and not share it at all. You only got one life and you had to make sure you spent it wisely. Resting her forehead on the kitchen table, she opened and closed her eyes until she was disturbed by Joy tripping over one of the wooden blocks, knocking her head on a table leg and bursting into tears. The sudden noise woke up Emily and she started to cry too.

‘Oh, it’s all right,’ said Lily, trying to soothe both girls at the same time. ‘You’re going to be okay!’

Lifting Joy to her lap, she shook her head at herself in dismay. What was she thinking of, dreaming of the WAAF and the WRNS? Her life was here, looking after her daughter and helping Audrey. She’d write to Jacques and tell him the truth; Joy was her priority and he needed to know that, and she wasn’t going to share her life with someone she hardly knew. Jacques needed certainty and security and an escape, she understood that, but he also needed to be realistic. If they had any chance of having a relationship of any description, they had to know everything about each other first.

Resolving to write to him that evening, Lily decided she would finally tell him everything. No secrets, just the truth, and if he still liked her after that, then she would think about the future.

Doctor Morris was busy, called out to one emergency after another, so Audrey left a message and decided to contact him the following morning if Donald hadn’t improved. Something she’d learned in just a few weeks of motherhood was that babies could be terribly unhappy one minute, then perfectly happy the next, so perhaps he’d be much better by dawn. She tried to reassure herself that this was the case, but that evening, he seemed worse. Despite yawning with exhaustion, Audrey was determined to stay awake while the babies slept, so she could keep an eye on him.

‘Come on, little love,’ she whispered to him, gently rubbing his back as he coughed and coughed, ‘try to rest now.’

At midnight, Lily popped her head round the door and smiled at the sight of Donald asleep in Audrey’s arms.

‘How’s he doing?’ she whispered. ‘He looks like he’s sleeping peacefully now.’

‘In fits and starts,’ said Audrey in a hushed voice. ‘He’s been coughing and has a fever, and has barely fed, but I think he’s worn himself out, poor dot. I daren’t put him down though in case he wakes up again.’

‘Can I watch him for you?’ Lily said. ‘I can hold him while you get a bit of sleep?’

Audrey smiled gratefully, rolled her aching left shoulder to iron out some cricks, but shook her head.

‘I can’t leave him,’ she said, kissing his head. ‘I just can’t.’ She carefully sat down and gestured to Lily to sit down too.

‘I thought you’d say that,’ said Lily. ‘I’ll come and sit with you for a while, then.’ Before she did so, she draped a blanket over Audrey’s knee and Donald’s legs.

‘What did you want to talk to me about earlier?’ said Audrey.

‘Jacques has written again,’ said Lily. ‘And as I suspected he might, he’s asked for my hand in marriage.’

‘Oh Lily, that’s wonderful,’ Audrey said, gently stroking Donald’s back as he shifted his position. ‘I’m so glad for you, but how will it work out with him being in France? Perhaps a long-distance engagement until the war’s over?’

‘I don’t know,’ Lily said, looking at her hands and inspecting her nails.

‘What is it?’ Audrey asked, checking Donald’s forehead with her finger and frowning – his temperature was still very high.

‘I still haven’t told him about Joy,’ said Lily, shrugging. ‘I think he’s getting rather ahead of himself. And…’

Lily paused, tucked her copper hair behind her ear, and Audrey tapped her on the arm to get her attention.

‘And what?’ she said. ‘Come on, Lily, spit it out.’

‘I really like Jacques,’ Lily said, ‘and I can imagine loving him, but it’s all this talk about marriage and sharing our lives together. I don’t know if it’s for me. I know I have Joy to take care of, but I want to have adventures, explore the world and work. I don’t want to be stuck at home.’

Audrey smiled at Lily. She was quite a modern girl, really, and Audrey admired her forward-thinking attitude, but she worried about how she would manage with looking after Joy on her own if she never married. If Jacques was understanding about Joy, she’d be daft to let him get away.

‘What do you think?’ Lily said. ‘Am I being selfish?’

‘Not at all,’ said Audrey. ‘You’re being sensible and anyway, Jacques needs to be told about Joy before you think any more about marriage. I think that Jacques has had a horrible few years and is desperate for love. Remember when you helped wash his sore feet when he first arrived at the rest centre? You must have seemed like an angel to him. You are an angel – but an angel with a mind of her own and ambitions. Just be yourself, Lily, that’s all I can say.’

Audrey was interrupted by Donald coughing again, and this time he vomited a little before seeming to gasp for air. The vomit was faintly streaked with red and the skin of his face had a purple-red tinge.

‘Is that blood?’ Audrey asked, panic-stricken. ‘Oh gosh, Lily, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help him!’

Terror gripped Audrey as she held Donald in her arms, feeling utterly helpless. Her stomach twisted further when she saw the expression on Lily’s face – pure fear. ‘Let me see if I can fetch the doctor,’ said Lily, her face completely white. ‘I’ll wake him if I have to.’