As she walked to the Hotel Metropole to track down Sam and offer him a belated apology, Betty mulled over Pat’s idea. While they were in the air raid shelter, Pat had proposed that, between them, they run a nursery from her home.

‘You’re good with children and are kind-hearted,’ Pat had said. ‘I qualified as a children’s nurse – a long time ago, but I can still remember it all. I’m good at discipline and insist on proper behaviour. I’ve read about residential nurseries in the papers – lots of women around the country are helping out their neighbours, family and friends while mothers go off to their war jobs. We could potentially look after Joy, Cyril, Vera, Dora and the new twins when they get a bit bigger, to help. Mary too, when she’s not at school or helping at the bakery. What do you think?’

Betty felt excited by the idea – she loved little ones – but she still had her shifts at the bakery to do and she wouldn’t want to let Audrey down.

‘We would take it in turns to watch the children,’ Pat said. ‘Then you could do your bakery shifts and I could do my WVS work.’

Not knowing how long Robert’s children would be with her made it difficult for Betty to make any decisions, but since he’d not been in touch at all since fleeing the bakery, she had to admit to herself that he was a complete bounder. Despite resenting him, she lived in hope that he’d want to know his children were safe, and she couldn’t send them into a care home – they were too sweet for that. But what if he never came back? Did she have the capacity and desire to look after them for ever?

‘Oh Robert,’ she said to nobody, shaking her head at the thought of him in hiding somewhere. ‘Don’t be a coward. Do the right thing for once!’

Realising that she’d reached the entrance of Hotel Metropole, she suddenly felt incredibly nervous. She’d left it far too long to come and apologise to Sam, but she’d felt too embarrassed and silly for not telling him about Robert to come before now. Besides, he hadn’t been able to get away fast enough when Robert had turned up and, she suspected, wouldn’t want anything to do with her.

Recognising a friend of Sam’s called Jim, who had been at the dance they’d enjoyed together, she walked over to him, her face burning red and her palms clammy. What if Sam had told his friends about her? They’d think she was a dreadful person. Swallowing her embarrassment, Betty smiled at Jim.

‘Excuse me, do you remember me?’ she said. ‘I’m a friend of Sam’s. Could you give him a message for me please?’

Jim’s face dropped, and he cast his eyes to the floor, pushing his hands into his pockets.

‘I’m sorry, miss, but haven’t you heard?’ he said quietly.

Betty shook her head. ‘Heard what?’ she said, hardly daring to breathe.

‘There’s no easy way of saying this. Sam went out on a mission in France, but I’m sorry to say he didn’t come home again. His aircraft was shot down over the ocean. He was one of many to have been killed.’

Killed? Betty struggled to stay standing.

‘Oh, I…’ she started, but was lost for words.

Gently, Jim supported her by holding her elbow and she gripped his arm for a few moments before letting go. Tears dripped down her face. Sam was so full of life, energy and fun. Now he was dead. She thought of the family he’d described in Canada and how he’d tempered his fear in his letters to them so as not to worry them – they’d never see him again.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Can I get you something? A cup of tea or something stronger?’

‘No,’ she muttered. ‘No… thank you, I-I must go.’

Leaving Sam’s young friend standing in the entrance of the hotel, she staggered back out onto the street, and stood for a moment in the sunlight, trying to take in the news and chastising herself for not coming to see him sooner. She should have come to apologise the day after the dinner at the bakery, not left it so long. In wartime you couldn’t assume you had any time at all. If something important needed to be done, or said, it should be done or said straight away.

Curling her fingers into fists, she set off through Bournemouth town centre towards the bakery, all the while thinking of Sam, remembering the way he danced, the line of his shoulders under his jacket, the gentle kisses he’d planted on her lips. As she passed the bomb craters in the Pleasure Gardens and the damaged surrounding buildings with boarded-up windows and flanked by sandbags, she cursed Hitler’s crazy greed and his thirst for violence. Men like Sam were dying before they’d even started living to protect the peace, so Betty would do everything she could to help peace prevail – whether that be running a nursery so that women could do war work or volunteering more with the WVS.

Taking the cliff path towards Southbourne, she eventually stopped at the bench on the Overcliff and sat down, staring out to sea. A beautiful day. She realised how fortunate she was to be able to appreciate the sight of the gulls gliding on the thermals, and the sea glistening in the sunlight. Sam would never see this again. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

‘Hello,’ said Audrey from behind her, making her jump. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you were running errands in Bournemouth? I’ve just snatched ten minutes to bring Donald out into the sunshine. Elsie’s watching Emily for me before she goes to work, bless her— Oh no, are you crying?’

Betty bit down on her bottom lip, knowing that she would just cry harder if Audrey showed her any more of her characteristic kindness.

‘It’s Sam,’ she said. ‘He went out on an operation but didn’t come back. He’s dead.’

Clearly shocked, Audrey sat down on the bench next to Betty and held onto her hand.

‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ Audrey said quietly. ‘He seemed such a nice man. Can’t have been more than twenty-one?’

‘Twenty-two,’ Betty said. ‘I don’t know how best to honour his memory.’

‘We have to carry on helping to put an end to this war in whatever way we can,’ said Audrey. ‘That’s all we can do to honour those who have died. I’m so sorry, Betty, I know you liked him.’

Audrey rested her hand on top of Betty’s and, taking a deep breath, Betty forced herself to stop crying.

‘You’re right and that’s what I intend to do,’ she said, determinedly. ‘Pat had an idea that she and I could set up a nursery at her house. Then, when I’m not working my shifts at the bakery, I can be looking after the children. It might help Lily when she works at the library, and you, to know the twins can be looked after for a few hours while you work at the bakery.’

Audrey sat up straighter and nodded.

‘Yes, yes, it would,’ she said. ‘When Donald is stronger it would be very helpful – but you’ve already got a lot on your shoulders, what with Robert’s children. I still can’t believe he left them with you and has disappeared without a trace. What’s he thinking of?’

Betty sighed and raised her eyebrows.

‘I have no idea,’ she said. ‘He’s a law unto himself, but I’ve got attached to Cyril, Vera and Dora. I can’t very well hand them over to the authorities without Robert’s consent. Besides which, I couldn’t do it to them. They’ve already dealt with so much upheaval. I’m at a loss to know what to do for the best.’

Audrey squeezed Betty’s hand.

‘If you can find it in your heart to take care of them,’ she said, ‘I will do everything I can to help. They’re the sweetest children and I firmly believe that Robert will be back for them one day.’

Betty smiled at Audrey, amazed yet again by her strength and generosity.

‘How do you do it?’ she asked, as they both looked out to sea.

‘Do what?’ said Audrey.

‘Remain so calm and strong and forgiving,’ Betty said. ‘I’ve never known anyone like you. You’re a special woman.’

Audrey laughed.

‘Get away with you!’ she said. ‘There’s nothing special about me. I feel the same frustrations and sadness as everyone else, especially with Charlie away. I just try to remember to search for the good and believe that if you look towards the sun, the shadows will fall behind.’

Betty smiled and nodded, trying to commit Audrey’s words to her own mind. As images of Sam and Robert flashed into her head and feelings of grief and resentment spread through her body, she told herself that she could cope with whatever life next threw at her. Look towards the sun and the shadows will fall behind.

Walking to her mother’s house in Avenue Road, Elsie pushed Emily in the pram, admiring the way the baby girl had her head turned at almost a right angle on the thin mattress. With her arms up in the air, she was the sweetest little bundle, and Elsie felt most excited to be taking her to meet Violet, whose legs weren’t up to the walk to the bakery.

‘Aren’t you just the picture of perfection?’ Elsie said, smiling down into the pram, as she paused to correct the knitted blanket that Emily had kicked off.

Earlier, William had helped her wash and change Emily while Audrey took Donald out for some air, and Elsie had been quite taken by how much looking after the baby girl lifted William’s spirits. Seeing the joy on his face as he gently dressed her in her pram suit made her heart swell with hope. For once he’d seemed light-hearted and free from burden and, for a moment, she’d considered turning to him and saying that yes, they should try for a baby, until she remembered her reasons for waiting.

‘Mother?’ Elsie said as she walked into the house, which, after the bomb damage it had suffered two years earlier, was still half patched up with boards and sandbags. Indoors, it looked in desperate need of tender loving care.

‘In here!’ Violet called from the kitchen. Kissing her mother on the cheek, Elsie scanned the room. The red floor tiles needed scrubbing and there was a basket piled high with washing that needed doing. A bowl of potatoes and leeks waiting to be peeled and washed sat beside the sink, next to a jar of preserved eggs and a packet of crispbread with ‘Wartime Economy Pack’ on the label. Elsie made a mental note to return later, after her shift on the buses, to help with the chores. With her cane leaned up against the table, Violet was writing a letter, but put down her pen to welcome Elsie.

‘It’s a bit of a mess,’ said Violet apologetically. ‘Your sisters are good, as you know, but I’d rather they were out in the street playing while they can. They’ve spent so much of the last three years in shelters and rest centres, I want them to enjoy a little of their childhood. So, who have you brought to visit?’

After placing a delicious-smelling fresh loaf and a slice of carrot cake from the bakery on the kitchen table, Elsie lifted Emily, who had just woken up and was waving her arms and legs around, out of the pram and placed her in Violet’s arms. Opening her eyes and staring up into Violet’s face, she made a sweet cooing noise.

‘Oh my goodness,’ said Violet, her face lighting up with joy. ‘What a pretty little thing you are! And how is your twin brother doing?’

Violet lifted her gaze to Elsie, who smiled and nodded before she replied: ‘He’s improving. Audrey has taken him out for a walk to get some air. Poor little boy, what a start he’s had.’

‘I know,’ said Violet. ‘But let’s hope he’s over the worst of it. He’s certainly going to have a lot of love from everyone at the bakery. How is William, Elsie dear?’

Elsie fell quiet and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table to sit with her mother. She sighed and felt her shoulders sag. Though she tried to be upbeat and resilient at work and at home with William, when she was alone with her mother, she couldn’t hide her feelings.

‘He’s up and down,’ she said. She hadn’t told Violet that they’d been to see David’s mother. William didn’t want anyone to know, which made it all difficult to explain, so she settled for a general description of his health. ‘He has nightmares about when he was in France and he obviously finds it hard to move on from the front line. The happiest I’ve seen him lately is when he’s helped me look after Emily, or any of the other children.’

‘Bless him,’ Violet said. ‘Are you tempted to have one of your own? You know my feelings about it. You should get on and have a family.’

Elsie shrugged and sighed while Violet gently tickled Emily’s cheek.

‘But there’s a war on,’ she said. ‘I think we should wait. I’m so busy on the buses and you obviously need more help here.’

Offended, Violet huffed and sucked in her cheeks.

‘No, I do not,’ she said. ‘I’m managing perfectly well on my own, thank you very much.’

Elsie could see her mother was close to tears, so immediately changed the subject.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Who are you writing to? Is this a letter to Dad?’

Violet shook her head, regained her composure and cleared her throat. She moved the letter in front of Elsie so she could read it for herself, then explained what it was about.

‘Some of the Italian people who have been interned are now being released,’ said Violet. ‘I’m writing to everyone I can think of to appeal for your father to be released. After that terrible disaster at sea, I think the government are finally realising that arresting all the Italians was a hasty thing to do. Honestly, when I think about what Alberto’s suffered, after all he’s done for this country, I’m overcome with rage.’

‘Can I help in any way?’ said Elsie, sharing Violet’s fury. ‘I better take Emily back in a minute, but I can write some letters too tonight. There would be nothing better than getting Dad home. You must miss him so much.’

‘I do, love,’ said Violet. ‘He’s my husband and he should be by my side, helping us through this dreadful war. Families should be together. Family is the most important thing.’

Elsie promised to help write letters to whoever she could think of to appeal for Alberto’s release, then left her mother and walked Emily back to the bakery, glancing down at her sweet face and remembering the look of joy on William’s face when he held his tiny niece in his arms. Violet was right: family was the most important thing, and Elsie would do everything she could for hers during this dreadful war.