‘I will never again eat porridge for breakfast,’ RAF flying instructor George Meadows told Maggie, taking a bite out of his lardy cake. ‘Not now that I have discovered this bakery. My uniform is going to get tight around the middle if I’m not careful though, Maggie.’

He tugged at the waistband of his trousers, which fitted his slim and muscular torso perfectly, and winked at her. He was incredibly handsome; chiselled features, sparkly-eyed, kissable lips.

Maggie dissolved into fits of giggles, while the eyebrows of the older ladies in the queue moved skywards. Maggie didn’t care. She was sick to the back teeth of all the worrying around her and the drone of aircraft ahead, and entranced by the RAF airmen in their smart uniforms, some of whom were in barracks in Bournemouth in one of the many hotels requisitioned for army personnel. George Meadows was as medicinal as a strong cup of tea when he strode into the bakery. Just his gigantic smile and the fragrance of the lotion he wore made Maggie feel happy to be alive. All she heard at home from her grandmother, who she lived with in a tiny terraced cottage with her three other younger sisters, was complaints about being penniless, rationing and pessimism about the future. There was even a small bottle of poison waiting on the mantelpiece in readiness for her grandmother to swallow if there was a German invasion.

It wasn’t much better at work. Poor Audrey was struggling to stay positive about the wedding since Elsie’s dad had been taken to a prisoner-of-war camp and Elsie had been questioning whether she should get married at all. Though he was now ‘safely’ on the Isle of Man, there’d been sickening news about how a requisitioned cruise-liner, the Arandora Star, taking Italian and German internees to Canada, had been torpedoed by a German U-boat just after leaving the Liverpool docks. Eight hundred and five people had lost their lives. Elsie and her mother had taken this news very hard, understandably, but Maggie didn’t know how to ease their suffering.

She also knew the bakery secret, that Lily was in a fix, as she’d heard Charlie and Audrey arguing about it. That was juicy gossip, if she was the sort to gossip, but she wasn’t.

‘How would you like to step out with me some time?’ George asked her, in front of a shop full of gaping women. ‘We could go for a walk on the promenade, or go to a dance at the Pavilion?’

Maggie enjoyed theatrically winking at the customers. Being a shop girl was sometimes like being an actress.

‘I think we know what the answer will be,’ said Audrey, smiling up from the accounts book she was writing in.

‘I thought you’d never ask!’ said Maggie.

George laughed his rich, robust laugh and Maggie grinned. He was exactly the sort of chap she needed to be spending time with. Fun, loud and good-looking.

‘You could be my plus-one at a wedding I’m due to go to at the weekend,’ said Maggie. ‘Could he Audrey? Would Elsie and William be put out?’

Audrey didn’t seem to hear. She was scrutinising the accounts book, a frown on her face, shaking her head in confusion.

‘Audrey?’ repeated Maggie. ‘Could I invite George to the wedding?’

Audrey looked up from the book, wearing a distracted expression. ‘Of course,’ she said, with a smile. ‘You’d be welcome, George. Which reminds me. I have some preparations to be getting on with!’

---

Audrey tried to steady her hand as she balanced the tiny figures of bride and groom onto the top of the wedding cake she’d made, but to no avail.

‘What on earth is wrong with me?’ she said to the empty kitchen. She had too much to think about, that’s what it was. Ever since she’d mentioned her idea to Lily about adopting the baby, she couldn’t stop her mind running away with itself. To add to it all, the bakery’s accounts didn’t seem to add up. Audrey sighed. She’d have to deal with that another time. With the wedding now only a day away, the preparations were getting on top of her. With Elsie in an understandably distracted mood since her father’s arrest and the dreadful news of the sinking of the Arandora Star, Audrey had carried on with the preparations, knowing Elsie had her hands full at home. Thankfully others had chipped in to help: Old Reg had donated some fancy biscuits for the wedding spread, the photographic dealer had offered to do the wedding photographs, Mr Chester from the cooked meats shop had gifted some ham for sandwiches and the dairy had gifted milk so Audrey could make extra custard tarts. Pat had washed the stain from the dress and made beautiful bunting for the hall, and the florist was doing the bouquet and buttonholes. All they needed now was for William to come home.

William had written a short note to say he would be arriving by train the evening before the wedding. He had given up his rented digs when he joined up, so he would stay at the bakery and Mary would go in with Lily. She’d washed and pressed Charlie’s suit, and helped Violet arrange the special marriage licence and book the church. The only thing left to do was finish preparing the food for the ‘do’ that they’d have in the community hall afterwards. Audrey had planned a simple buffet of finger sandwiches, sausage rolls and a wedding cake topped with the icing sugar friends and neighbours had donated, which, she was delighted to see, was enough for two tiers and some piped decorations.

She tried again to place the figures of bride and groom onto the cake and, finally, she added a small horseshoe for luck and stood back to admire her work.

‘They need all the luck they can get,’ said Charlie, appearing behind her. ‘I saw Mr and Mrs Stringer today when I was doing the rounds with Albert. They got a telegram yesterday – their two boys have both been reported missing at sea. Mrs Stringer is inconsolable, as you can imagine.’

Audrey sat down heavily on the kitchen chair, the wind knocked out of her. ‘Oh heavens, Charlie,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘That’s just dreadful. What can we do? I must take them something.’

Audrey thought of the Stringer boys, so full of energy and good cheer and the sort to pass the time of day with anyone and everyone. She couldn’t imagine them no longer being a fixture in the neighbourhood.

‘I left extra bread for them,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Though what good that will do, I’m not sure.’

‘It’s something, Charlie,’ said Audrey, moving to the stove to make tea. ‘Something is better than nothing. Oh I wish I could put an end to all this madness.’

She turned on the wireless and the couple listened in silence as, in a broadcast to the nation, Neville Chamberlin, who was still a member of Churchill’s cabinet, warned that a German attempt to invade Britain by sea and air might be launched at any moment.

‘…Brave men and women will only be braced by the knowledge that we must now rely upon ourselves, under Providence, to win through as we have won through before…’

When the broadcast was over, Audrey handed Charlie a cup of weak tea – the ration was only 2oz per person per week so they had to make it last.

‘Hardly feels like a time to be celebrating, does it?’ Charlie said quietly, moving to stand in front of the map he’d fixed to the wall, where he marked out the various battles with pins. He frowned at the map. ‘But we’ll put a smile on for Elsie and William. It’s only the once you get married, after all.’

‘Remember when we got married, love?’ Audrey said. ‘We felt like we had the world at our feet and that we were going to be together forever. What must it feel like for William and Elsie? They have forty-eight hours before he leaves again and then she will have to get on with life not knowing what’s going to happen to her new husband. When will it end?’

A cloud passed over the evening sun and the kitchen was thrown into gloom. Audrey felt a dizzying sense of foreboding.

‘This wedding means so much,’ she said quietly, gathering herself. ‘It’s a moment to stand together in honour of love, against all this… this… hatred.’

Audrey put a hand over her face, before shaking her head and tutting at herself.

‘Come on, girl,’ said Charlie, putting an arm over her shoulders. ‘We’re doing okay. I swear you get softer every day. But that’s why I love you.’