Lily had not been able to get Henry’s proposition out of her head. Though she had told Audrey that he wanted to adopt Joy, she hadn’t told her the other part of the story: that it was Audrey’s mother, Daphne, who had told Helen about Lily in the first place, apparently because Victor was so unhappy about not having Lily in his life. On hearing that news, Lily had immediately written to Victor, asking him to meet her in the Lyons Corner House, a tea room in London’s Piccadilly. She had said, in her letter, that she would come alone, but actually, she had brought Joy with her. It might be the case that Victor didn’t want Lily and Joy in his own home but this was a public place. He would have to behave civilly.

Sitting at a table by the window in the tea room, she watched the Londoners go by. Amongst the buildings devastated by the horrendous Blitz bombing, people carried on with their lives as best they could. A small typing pool of smart young women worked on desks in the courtyard of their bombed-out office building opposite the café, the office presumably too dangerous to work in.

‘What do they do in the rain?’ Lily asked the waitress, gesturing towards the typists.

‘Umbrellas,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘Or sometimes they sit in cars with their typewriters on their knees. It’s a solicitor’s firm, so I suppose they can’t very well pack up and go home just because their office has been bombed.’

Lily smiled as her eyes were drawn to another shop window where women were having their legs painted by a man with a paintbrush, near a notice declaring ‘no more ladders’. Further along the street, people browsed the plants and flowers at a flower stall while buses rumbled past, taking people to work, carrying on with life as normal.

‘What can I get you, love?’ said the waitress.

‘Tea, please,’ Lily said. ‘Tea for two.’

‘Coming up!’ she replied, then lowering her voice, ‘If I were you, I’d take it sweet while you can. You know Lord Woolton says there’s going to be a complete sugar ban in cafés soon? May as well drink dishwater!’

The waitress laughed and walked away, leaving Lily to look around the tea room. It was packed full of people of all ages being served by the waitresses in their smart black and white uniforms. There was a bakery counter at the front and an atmosphere of conviviality, despite evidence of the war playing out all around. She spotted her father, Victor, before he saw her and having not seen him for almost a year, her mouth went dry and her heart pounded in her chest. Standing to wave, she could barely conceal her excitement.

‘Father!’ she called. ‘Over here!’

As she watched Victor walk towards her, dressed in a smart suit despite the hot weather, Lily felt overwhelmed. Seeing him like this made her realise just how much she had missed him over the last months – and she felt angry, upset and happy all at once.

‘Lily,’ he said, greeting her with wet eyes. ‘How are you? I—’

Lily studied Victor’s expression as his eyes slipped from her face to Joy’s. He seemed to be frozen to the spot, and even when the waitress brought over their pot of tea, he didn’t move. She panicked, wondering suddenly if he might just turn around and leave the café.

‘I know I said I wouldn’t bring her, and that I’d come alone,’ said Lily hurriedly. ‘But I wanted to show you that she’s the innocent one in all of this. I want you to understand why I can’t give her to Henry and Helen, even if it means she’d have a more privileged life. That she’s my child and a part of our family, of your family. I wanted her to meet her grandfather and know that I love you.’

She lifted Joy up, sat down and perched her on her knee, silently praying that she wouldn’t cry. Victor, continuing to stare at Joy, sat down slowly on the seat opposite. Lily watched emotions flicker across his face.

‘She’s exactly like you,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s taking me back to when you were a baby. I feel – I’m disorientated, Lily.’

He leaned back in his chair and shook his head, muttering, as if in conversation with himself.

‘When your mother and I had you,’ he started, ‘I was a good father. I loved you and your red hair and your bonny face. Your mother too, I loved with all my heart. When she fell pregnant with your brother, I was the happiest man in London – life was going just fine. But then, when your mother and brother died in childbirth, it was as if a black veil had been pulled over our lives. You, just four years old at the time, missed your mother so much, it broke my heart. I couldn’t replace her, and I wasn’t good enough for you—’

‘But you were,’ said Lily, her voice trembling. ‘You were always enough.’

Victor’s lip wobbled as he struggled to contain his emotions. Lily had never, ever seen him like this, and she wished she knew how to console him.

‘I tried to be a good father to you,’ he continued. ‘It was just you and I, and as you know, I’m a rather old-fashioned man. My own father barely spoke to his children. I didn’t want to be like him, but I became more like him as the years went on and, well, when this happened, when you fell pregnant, I didn’t know what to do. It took me by surprise.’

Victor stopped talking and regained his composure, pouring himself and Lily a cup of tea. Words rushed into her mouth and sensing this meeting would be short, she blurted them out.

‘Father,’ she said, ‘I know I’ve let you down and brought shame to your doorstep. I know I made a terrible mistake and that I acted carelessly and selfishly and that people can be very cruel about girls like me. But I have to move on from that and look to the future. Henry approaching me about adoption made me realise that I need to make sure Joy has security in her life. I want to get a job, to help with the war effort, and earn some money so I can save up. I want Joy to know her family. I don’t want us to be strangers. I miss you terribly and have so many things I want to talk to you about. I love Audrey and the people at the bakery, but I miss you.’ Flicking her gaze up to his, she smiled. ‘Would you like to hold her?’ she said.

Lifting Joy over to Victor’s knee, Lily held her breath as he awkwardly supported her small, squidgy frame. Joy giggled and wound her fingers around his finger, her cheeks pink and her eyes on everyone and everything in the tea room, blissfully unaware of the significance of this meeting. Relief washed over Lily when a small smile crept onto Victor’s face.

‘I know you don’t want me to live at home,’ said Lily. ‘And anyway, it’s not safe in London. But I would like you to come and see me in Bournemouth if travel is permitted. I know Audrey and William would like that too.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ her father said. ‘William and I parted on very unfriendly terms.’

Lily recalled the night William and Audrey had suddenly left the family home, seven years earlier. It had happened after an argument when Victor told Audrey and William that they were no longer permitted to mention their dead father’s name, Don, in the house. William had objected to that and had argued with Victor – and Daphne, who sided with Victor. The whole thing had got out of hand, terrible, unsayable things were said and punches were thrown. Victor had thrown Audrey and William out of the house – and they had fled to Bournemouth.

‘Why did you dislike Don so much?’ Lily asked gently.

‘I didn’t dislike him,’ said Victor, looking uncomfortable. ‘I felt, oh, I don’t know, I felt that Daphne would always love him more than me. William and Audrey, my stepchildren, idolised him. I didn’t want to be second best. It was complicated. I’ve been very foolish.’

Admitting that he was wrong was clearly difficult for Victor and his expression darkened. He handed Joy back to Lily, standing from his chair, making to leave. He seemed terribly ill at ease, as if he had said too much. Gathering himself together, he buttoned up his coat – and his emotions.

‘But you’ve only just got here,’ said Lily, feeling choked.

Victor checked his pocket watch, opened his mouth to reply but, saying nothing, leant down to kiss Lily briefly on the cheek. She smiled up at him, trying to communicate how much she loved him in that one smile.

‘I need some time to think this all through,’ he said. ‘Goodbye, Lily – and thank you for coming here.’

‘Goodbye, Father,’ she said, cuddling Joy, who was tugging at escaped tendrils of Lily’s hair and trying to stand on her lap, strengthening her chubby little legs.

Lily kept her eyes on her father until he’d left the café. She longed for him to look back and wave at her, but he didn’t, until he was almost out of sight – and then he turned and raised a hand. Lily beamed and waved frantically through the window. ‘I love you,’ she mouthed. And then he was gone.

---

Elsie was in bed when she heard the music. After a long shift on the buses, her limbs felt like dead weights, yet she was unable to sleep with thoughts rushing through her head. The entire day had been filled with passengers talking of the previous night’s raid on Southampton, when the Luftwaffe had carried out a short but intense attack late at night, destroying churches, schools, public houses and dwelling houses, killing men, women and children.

‘A baby girl, just one month old, was killed,’ one passenger had told her. ‘She’d only just been christened, bless her soul. And a stables was hit, with most of the horses dead. The RAF have hit back, of course, but where will it all end?’

Where will it all end? echoed in her thoughts. Elsie turned over in bed and blinked in the darkness, straining to hear the music coming from outside. At first she thought it was from a dance hall – they had been packed earlier that evening with young people grabbing hold of life like it was a balloon about to float away on a high wind, but while other young people enjoyed what they could of life, Elsie was set on working as hard as she could. She’d made a decision: every waking hour she would work, until the thought of William had faded from her head and heart. As the music grew louder and more familiar, she sat up in bed.

‘William?’ she whispered. The music, she now knew, was William. She would be able to recognise it anywhere; the tuneful rhythm of his song. He must be outside in the street!

Pushing the covers off her bed, without disturbing her sisters, she tiptoed over to the window. A smile breaking out over her lips, she moved the blackout blind out of the way and opened the window, peering out into the night. The air was warm on her skin, and the moonlight bright. Casting her gaze to the garden, there in the shadows she saw William’s outline. He was leaning against the garden wall, his mouth harp to his lips, playing one of Elsie’s favourite songs, ‘Goodnight Sweetheart’. His eyes met hers.

‘What are you doing here?’ Elsie said, quietly, trying to suppress a giggle.

William stopped playing and moved over to under the window, his face upturned.

‘Can you come down?’ he whispered. ‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Wait there,’ she said, letting the blind drop down again, her heart racing in her chest. Pushing her feet into her shoes, she froze when her sisters stirred in their beds – June was sitting up, her eyes wide open.

‘Go back to sleep,’ said Elsie, gently, and luckily her sister did as she was told.

Pulling on her mackintosh, Elsie crept down the stairs, past her mother’s bedroom and unlocked the front door as quietly as she could. In the darkness, William was there, waiting for her. Suppressing the urge to throw herself at him, she folded her arms across her chest and smiled.

‘Let’s walk,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll hop.’

They walked slowly together towards the clifftop, in the moonlight, and though Elsie desperately wanted to talk, she stayed quiet, wanting to hear what William had to say. He had, after all, come to see her in the middle of the night – he must have something important to get off his chest. She hoped he’d had a change of heart.

‘Shall we sit here?’ he said. They sat on a patch of grass on the clifftop, which had been carefully trimmed, cared for even in wartime. Searchlights shone across the sky in the distance and the sea glittered.

‘I want to say I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry for being how I have been and for calling our engagement off. I want to change. It’s just, Elsie, I saw things, I did things… unforgivable things… I… over there, I saw… all these families, people with their possessions in handcarts, leaving their homes in bare feet, being dive-bombed by Hitler’s army, chased by soldiers with guns. Their worlds were turned upside down.’

His words caught in his throat and his eyes filled. Elsie lifted her hand and carefully wiped away a tear that had escaped his eye and was running down his cheek.

‘But it’s separate to this. I love you,’ he croaked. ‘I love you so much.’

Elsie felt relief wash over her. Though she knew William was suffering, she was delighted that his feelings for her hadn’t changed. Since he’d called off their engagement she’d wondered if she would ever get over him.

‘I love you too,’ she said, quietly. ‘I always have and I always will.’

They embraced one another, enjoying the warmth of their bodies.

‘Would you marry me?’ he said. ‘I think we should get married and do it properly this time. A big wedding, with all our friends and—’

‘No,’ said Elsie, then laughed affectionately when she saw William’s disappointed face. ‘I mean, yes, of course I will marry you, but let’s keep it small. Just us and our closest family, a cake and a barrel of beer, and some music. Let’s keep it simple. Life’s complicated enough as it is at the moment. Besides, my father is away and, without him to give me away, I would want to keep the wedding a modest affair.’

William nodded and smiled in understanding. He looked into Elsie’s eyes and tucked her hair behind her ears. She sensed he had more he wanted to say, but instead of speaking, he moved his head closer to hers and they kissed in the moonlight, finding comfort and relief in one another’s lips.