‘How about this one?’ said Audrey, opening up a tiny cardboard box and holding up a cake topper consisting of two clasping hands, made of wax. ‘It’s really old, probably an antique. Or, oh, I do love this one!’

She smiled as she rummaged through her modest collection of carefully selected cake toppers and placed one down on the shop counter in front of Maggie and Mary. This one was an intricate white and silver model of a bride and groom seated together on the curve of a crescent moon. The moon had features carefully hand-painted on it, and a cluster of tiny stars attached to one end. All three of them smiled at one another.

‘I love that,’ said Maggie, carefully picking it up and holding it up to the sunlight pouring in through the shop window. ‘It’s perfect, isn’t it?’

It was an unusually quiet Saturday afternoon in the shop and almost time to close. The morning had been busy as always, with people buying their bread, currant buns, carrot and Madeira cakes, but now there was little left on the shelves, and, with the stales bagged up and sold, Audrey, Maggie and Mary were discussing Maggie’s wedding, which she and George were arranging before he was posted overseas. Audrey now knew how hard up Maggie was, and had offered to make her a cake and put on the food, as a contribution. Charlie’s mother Pat was going to make a posy out of artificial flowers, and instead of trying to buy a new one, Maggie was borrowing a delphinium blue dress from Fran, Audrey’s sister-in-law. It was a very pretty frock, but whatever Maggie wore, even if it was a flour sack, she’d look beautiful.

‘Afternoon, ladies,’ said George, entering the shop and kissing Maggie’s hand. The three ‘ladies’ looked up and beamed. He was the kind of twinkly man it was difficult not to smile at. ‘What are you three plotting?’

Audrey explained to George that now Mr Woolton had banned icing on wedding cakes, because it was considered a too-indulgent use of a rationed food, she was having to think around the problem and be creative.

‘Some folk are using painted cardboard over the top of a stack of tiny squares of cake that the guests can take home with them,’ she explained. ‘Others have a standard cake, fruit or sponge, and ice it with chocolate icing, or have a decorated plaster of Paris mould over the top. I’ve got a few moulds that I’m using now. Of course, there’s nothing that compares to the taste of the sugar icing, or the marzipan, but a cover will look good on the photographs and I’ll make sure the cake is delicious.’

‘If it wasn’t wartime I’d want you to have a cake that was five tiers high,’ George told Maggie.

‘And pink!’ she said, beaming at him, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

‘Five tiers?’ said Audrey, shaking her head. ‘You might have to find another baker! I’m good, but I’m not that good!’

George laughed but was interrupted by the heavy step and explosive cough of Uncle John, who had come into the shop, stopping in the doorway to cling to the door frame with both hands. He was breathing heavily as an old dog.

‘John!’ said Audrey. ‘What on earth are you doing here? I had no idea you were going to be discharged from hospital today. I would have come to get you.’

‘I discharged m’self,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t stand another bleedin’ day in bed. I need to get back to m’ bread. I’ve been thinkin’ about that wheatmeal bread the Ministry of Food are trying to bring in, the one that’s supposed to be good for us all. I need to try it out.’

‘The National Loaf?’ said Audrey. ‘Yes, we’ve had more letters from the Ministry about it and the Bournemouth Food Control Office told me the grand plan is that all the bakeries will have to start baking it.’

She felt for some advertising leaflets under the counter, then put them on the countertop for John and Maggie to see. The Ministry of Food were trying to popularise a wheatmeal loaf which had extra vitamin content, but so far Barton’s had stuck to white bread, beloved by its customers.

‘Apparently the wheatmeal loaf, or the National Loaf, I should say, is going on trial at the Isolation Hospital and the Linford Sanitorium,’ said Audrey. ‘To see if it makes any difference to the patients’ health. We’re to get wheatmeal flour from the miller soon.’

‘That’ll be a bugger to work with! And how are the patients in the Isolation Hospital going to tell anyone what they think?’ laughed John. ‘The Bournemouth Food Control Office ain’t thought that one through properly, ’ave they? Ha!’

Audrey laughed, glad to see John in better spirits, but concerned that he wasn’t yet fit enough to be back at work. Walking out from behind the counter to greet him properly, she scolded him under her breath, taking his arm to help him walk. He batted her off with a playful slap, but when he reached Maggie, his mood changed.

‘I’ve heard about what you’ve been up to, young lady, and I do not approve,’ he said. ‘When did you ever think it was okay to bite the ’and that feeds you?’

Maggie’s face flamed red and she quickly busied herself with wrapping up the cake toppers in tissue paper and carefully putting them back in the cardboard box. George looked quizzically at her, but she said nothing. Audrey sighed and chewed the inside of her cheek. Maggie had worked really hard to make amends for what she’d done, but John wasn’t one to let things go so easily.

‘What’s this about, sir?’ George said, confused. ‘Are you okay, Maggie? You seem flustered.’

‘No wonder she’s flustered,’ said John, leaning his elbow on the counter to take a breather, ‘she’s been caught pilfering, ain’t she? I’m disappointed in you, young Maggie. I’ve always been fond of you, girl, and thought you had your head screwed on.’

Audrey sighed as Maggie’s face grew redder still and her bottom lip wobbled. Without saying a word, Maggie pulled off her apron and threw it onto the shop counter, before running out of the bakery and into the street. George stood, open-mouthed, in the bakery, looking from John to Audrey in confusion.

‘For goodness’ sake, John!’ Audrey cried. ‘If you’ve nothing useful to say then why speak? I’ll not have you talking like that to Maggie. Now, go on with you and make yourself useful or get out from under my feet. Honest to goodness!’

Grumbling, John left the room and went upstairs to the kitchen. Mary, who hated any confrontation, slipped her hand into Audrey’s for protection.

George pointed over his shoulder to the door. ‘I should go after Maggie,’ he said, but Audrey quickly grabbed his arm.

‘Wait,’ she said. ‘I want to explain what’s happened, so you know.’

Haltingly, Audrey told George that because Maggie had been so keen on him, ever since they first met, she’d taken a bit of sugar to swap for clothing vouchers. She’d always intended to give it back. Audrey also explained that Maggie had a difficult grandmother, who was a drunk, and who was in debt.

‘She didn’t mean any harm by it,’ said Audrey. ‘I’ve known that girl for years and she’s got a good heart. She just thinks you will be disappointed in where she’s from. She made a mistake, that’s all. How does that make you feel about her?’

Audrey sucked in her breath, hardly daring to wait for his opinion. If what she’d told him had changed his feelings for Maggie, she’d never forgive herself for meddling. Mary’s hand squeezed tighter around her fingers.

George concentrated as he formulated his answer, and then he broke into a smile. Running his hand through his hair, he let out a big sigh.

‘It’s not right, what she did, but I understand why,’ he said. ‘I love that girl. She’s got me hooked.’

Audrey’s shoulders dropped in relief. She looked down at Mary, who smiled up at her. They both took a deep breath.

‘That’s that then,’ said Audrey. ‘Now you better get on after her. She’ll be on the Overcliff. There’s a bench there, where before the war, people used to sit and enjoy the view. It’s where we all go when things are getting on top of us.’

---

‘Stupid old fool,’ Maggie muttered as she sat on the bench, hugging her knees. She stared out to sea, thinking she’d like to wring Uncle John’s neck, for ruining everything for her, when there was a tap on her shoulder. Quickly wiping her eyes with her hanky, she turned to see George smiling down at her. The skin around his eyes crinkled into tiny smiles, making his face light up. Despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t help return his smile.

‘May I?’ he said, taking a seat next to her on the bench. They looked at one another and he reached over, lifted her hand and held it in his. ‘Maggie, I love you, no matter what,’ he said. ‘Audrey explained about what’s happened. Why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me everything? You know I’ll be posted overseas as soon as we’re married and I don’t want there to be secrets between us.’

‘I just didn’t want to mess it up,’ she said, her voice barely audible. ‘I wanted to be a girl you couldn’t resist. I would love to be your wife, but I didn’t think you’d be interested in me once you saw where I was really from. We… we… don’t have a penny to our names. My grandmother lives for fags and any booze she can get her hands on, and I’m, well, I’m just a shop girl.’

‘You’re not “just” anything,’ he said. ‘You’re Maggie Rose, the girl of my dreams, my wife-to-be. It’s not your fault that your grandmother is a ruin.’

‘I know what I did was wrong,’ she said. ‘Audrey is so kind, she has been so kind to me. I don’t know what I’d do without her.’

‘She’s a big-hearted lady,’ said George. ‘In wartime, that’s refreshing. Anyway, there’s something I need to tell you too. I haven’t been entirely honest with you either…’

‘What?’ said Maggie, suddenly stricken by an all-consuming fear that George was going to tell her something dreadful, like that he was already engaged.

‘I’m to be involved in a dangerous mission, with an elite group of pilots,’ he said in a serious, quiet voice. ‘You mustn’t talk to anyone about this, but after we’re married, that’s what I’ll be doing. I’m fearful for my life, Maggie. I must be honest.’

Maggie felt as if she could hardly breathe. The prospect of losing George, just as soon as she had met him, filled her with unspeakable dread. But, in her usual fashion, she knew she must remain upbeat, positive and hopeful. Perhaps he would be lucky, perhaps he would escape whatever this mission was, unscathed. She knew not to dismiss his fears or pretend that he wasn’t facing danger, but instead squeezed his hand, trying to transmit all her love to him through her hot palm.

In the warm sunshine they sat there together, looking out to sea, not knowing what was waiting around the corner, or whether they would have the luxury of a future together. For now, they were together and for that she was grateful.