The light was fading by the time Audrey and Lily arrived at the beach, the orange sun hanging low in the sky and partially concealed by clouds. Though the flat and silver sea looked calm, she knew there were dangerous currents beneath the surface that could drag a person under and carry them off, miles down the coast. With no sign of Mary on the beach or on the promenade, Audrey shivered with fear. What if she’d entered the water and gone in too deep?

‘I just can’t think what’s happened to her,’ she said to Lily, chewing the inside of her cheek, deep frown lines across her forehead. ‘She knows not to go in the water, but what if she did? Or what if she walked a different way home from school and got lost, or is laying injured somewhere? She’ll be hungry and thirsty by now and I bet she doesn’t have anything warm with her. What if the air-raid siren goes off? She’ll be petrified, poor lamb. Oh, Lily, I don’t know what to do! If only Charlie were here.’

Since Charlie had gone off to fight, Audrey had discovered that she could manage very well on her own, but now, with Mary vanished and after having had him home for a few days, she wished more than ever that her husband was here. While fear and anxiety was muddling her thoughts, his sensible, logical approach was just what she needed. For a moment, she felt she might collapse onto the sand in tears, but she took a deep breath and pulled herself together: Mary couldn’t have gone too far. Lily put her arm around Audrey’s shoulders and hugged her.

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘Perhaps she’s back at the bakery now. Should we go back, in case she is? She might be wondering where we are and waiting for her dinner!’

‘You go,’ said Audrey. ‘And if she’s there come and find me. I’ll walk a bit further, just in case she’s here somewhere. I need to find her before it gets any darker. We know only too well how dangerous blackout can be – and she’s not wearing anything white.’

Audrey watched Lily walk up the zig-zag path, back towards the bakery, hoping she was right, and that Mary would be at home, but something told her that she wasn’t. Briskly walking further, towards Hengistbury Head, she passed the ugly sea defences and rolls of barbed wire, her fear increasing with every step. ‘Mary!’ she called out as she walked, ‘Mary!’, but her calls were only met with the screech of a lone seagull, swooping overhead.

---

Returning home with sore feet and aching legs, Audrey found Lily, John and William sitting at the kitchen table. They all looked at her with expectant, anxious faces, clearly hoping to see Mary. Audrey shook her head and walked over to the window, staring out.

‘She wasn’t anywhere,’ said Audrey. ‘What shall we do? Should I go to the police station and speak to an officer?’

John poured Audrey a cup of weak tea and patted the chair next to him. ‘Come and sit here, love, and have a cup of tea and a slice of bread and jam,’ he said.

‘Oh no, I couldn’t eat,’ said Audrey.

‘Do as I say, young lady,’ said John. ‘You wait here and gather your strength, while I go out looking for her. William will take care of the ovens until I’m back. I’ll ask Old Reg to telephone the police station.’

Audrey slowly sat down and John rested his hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

‘She’ll be back,’ he said gently. ‘She wouldn’t be without you, now, Audrey. You’re a mother to her, make no mistake.’

Audrey patted John’s hand in thanks, and gulped back the tears that were threatening to fall. John’s words were true – she had become a mother to Mary and she loved the little girl with her whole heart. She realised it now with crystal clarity – she didn’t need to have a baby of her own, she had Mary.

‘I just love that little girl so much,’ she said falteringly. ‘As if she was my own.’

When the others had left, Audrey stayed in the kitchen, pacing the floorboards and straining to think where Mary might be, stopping dead every time there was a noise. By the middle of the night, her eyes were almost closing and, resting her head on her arms at the kitchen table for a moment, she briefly fell to sleep. Waking with a start minutes later, the silence in the bakery filled her with empty dread and she cried, longing for Mary to be found, or to come home.

‘Oh, I can’t sit here any longer!’ she said to the empty kitchen. Grabbing her torch, she told William, who was in the bakehouse, that she was going out to search again near the river, where the boats were.

‘But—’ he started, a panicked expression on his face.

‘I’ll not be told otherwise,’ she said, marching off before he could say anything else.

Walking towards the river, where the weeping willows rustled in the breeze, Audrey’s heart jumped in her chest when she saw a flash of torchlight in the near distance. Running towards it, she stopped dead when she realised it was the man from the Home Guard, on night patrol, who had found Joy in her pram on the beach months before.

‘Where are you going?’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t be out. You’re not wearing white and you don’t even have your gas mask with you! Don’t I recognise you?’

‘I’m looking for my little girl, Mary,’ said Audrey, stuttering. ‘She didn’t come home after school.’

‘Now I know who you are!’ he said. ‘You’re from the bakery, with that other young lady who left her baby on the beach! You’re not very good with losing your littl’uns! You should take more care, madam!’

‘Oh, do be quiet, old man!’ Audrey snapped. ‘I love my family more than I can possibly say and I’d do anything for them. Now let me past, so I can check the quay. It’s the one place I haven’t checked.’

‘I better come with you,’ he said.

Audrey shrugged, wishing he would just go away, as he huffed and puffed beside her, trying to keep up with her pace.

When they’d walked further along the river, much further than she’d walked with Lily, Audrey shone her torch over a group of three rowing boats bobbing on the water, moored near to the riverbank. One was covered in tarpaulin, which she felt sure moved.

‘Shh,’ she said, stopping and pointing at the boat. ‘I’m sure it moved.’

Audrey strained to focus on the ancient-looking rowing boat, not knowing what to expect. What if it was the enemy? Heart in mouth, she called out Mary’s name in a quivering voice. Moments later, Mary’s little head poked out from under the tarpaulin and, when Audrey shone the torch directly into her face, she froze like a rabbit in headlights. A wave of relief and anger washed over Audrey as she marched closer to the rowing boat. Thoughts and images of what might have happened took her breath away. The girl could have drowned, or drifted away and out to sea, all alone in the darkness.

‘Mary!’ she said. ‘Come out of there at once!’

‘No, I shan’t!’ shouted Mary, grabbing one of the oars and trying to push the boat away from the edge. Audrey was taken aback. It was probably the first time the child had defied her – she was normally such an obedient and sweet little thing.

The old man, from the Home Guard, muttered under his breath and waded into the water. He pulled Mary from the boat and carried her, kicking and screaming, onto the riverbank.

‘Now look here, young lady, just you stop kicking…’ he started, setting her down, but she pushed him so hard, he stumbled backwards.

‘Mary!’ said Audrey. ‘Stop it at once.’

‘I’m not coming home!’ Mary shouted. ‘I’m never coming back!’

She started to run away from Audrey, through the bulrushes, but Audrey was quick to react and soon caught her up, grabbing the little girl’s arm.

‘Let go of me!’ Mary screamed, but Audrey didn’t let go. Instead, she clung to Mary for dear life, wrapping her arms around her frame and pulling her close to her.

‘Calm down, Mary,’ soothed Audrey. ‘Calm down and tell me what you’re doing here. Were you running away? Has something upset you?’

She had a sudden flashback to the evening she’d found Mary outside the kitchen. Had she overheard Charlie talking about her?

Mary, who had stopped struggling, started to cry and enormous fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

‘Tell me what the reason is,’ said Audrey. ‘You can say whatever you like, it won’t matter because I’ll still love you.’

With her lips wobbling, Mary spoke: ‘I heard Charlie say I was hard work and that he wanted a son of his own to follow in his footsteps and be a baker,’ she said. ‘I know you don’t really want me either – you’re just being nice. Nobody wants me. That’s why everyone I love has disappeared.’

Audrey’s heart broke into a million pieces. Poor child, she thought, she doesn’t believe that I love her. Taking a deep breath, she wanted to say something that would leave her in no doubt she was loved.

‘In my mind, you are my daughter,’ said Audrey. ‘I’m not leaving you and you’re not leaving me, we’re in this together. To tell you the truth, Mary dear, I can’t have babies, and so Charlie’s dream of a son is just a dream. I would have set him straight, but he’s got to go off to fight in the horrible war, and I didn’t want to crush his dreams. Sometimes dreams help keep us going, don’t they? Now, why don’t you come home? Your rabbit will be wondering where you’ve got to.’

After mulling over Audrey’s words, Mary seemed visibly relieved. The old man from the Home Guard lifted his hand in dismissal and stormed off, leaving Audrey and Mary together. The sky was beginning to lighten and birds were beginning to sing – Audrey’s thoughts flew to the bakery.

‘It’s almost morning,’ she said. ‘We need to get back, my love.’

‘What about the bread?’ Mary asked, as if reading her mind. ‘Have I ruined the bread order? We need to get back to the ovens so you can put the rock cakes in.’

‘You see,’ said Audrey, folding her arms across her chest and grinning, ‘you’re going to make a fantastic little baker one day. There’s no doubt about that. Later on I’ll write and tell Charlie as much.’

And Audrey stayed true to her word. Yawning with exhaustion after a sleepless night, later that day she sat down at the kitchen table and wrote the longest letter she’d written to Charlie since he’d left. She told him that Mary was one of the family now and that she would never let her go. The bakery family, though unusual in shape and size, was what he should keep in mind when he was in battle. That she loved him and missed him more than there were words to describe. That he could rest assured that the Barton’s bread was light and porous as ever, the crust golden and crisp. Just as it should be.