Perched on the edge of the wooden pew, Audrey held her breath as the priest addressed the congregation: ‘If any person present knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.’

Warm October sunshine shone through the saints and patrons encapsulated in the decorative stained-glass windows, casting rainbows onto the bride and groom, who stood side by side at the front of the church in silence. William shifted position on his crutches slightly, a child wriggled and a guest coughed, before the priest continued the ceremony.

Twisting to smile briefly at Mary and Lily, who were sitting next to her on the pew, Audrey breathed out in relief, trying to calm her nerves. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to happen, but after everything Elsie and William had been through, she was determined that nothing would spoil their wedding day. After William’s confession the other night, she hadn’t stopped worrying about him, but she hoped he’d had a change of heart and decided to look forwards, not back. She knew he still hadn’t told Elsie the full story about what had happened in France, but Audrey knew she would understand if he did. There had been other hiccups too: the photographer they had booked had cancelled because of ill health, and Victor and Daphne’s plans to attend had been thwarted because of problems with the railway.

‘William’s hand is shaking!’ whispered Lily, as the couple put rings on each other’s fingers.

Audrey gave a little nod of her head, registering his nervous state, but strongly felt that when the wedding was over, he would feel a whole lot better. Her mind went to the food she had prepared, waiting in the back room of the café on Fisherman’s Road. Despite rationing, she and Violet had whipped up a celebration spread and the cake, under the plaster of Paris mould, would hopefully be a delicious treat for the guests. William had selected the music and Lily and Violet had decorated the tables with jam jars filled with sea pinks and foliage picked from the clifftop. They’d all agreed that they wouldn’t listen to the wireless news that day and would try to put the war out of their minds. Everyone needed a little gaiety and with any luck, the reception would provide that.

‘…I now pronounce you husband and wife,’ said the priest and the small congregation let out a cheer, as Elsie and William kissed. Audrey felt overwhelmed with emotion for William, who looked happier than she had seen him for a long time.

She glanced over at Violet, who wiped her eyes with a hanky, and the two women shared a knowing smile. With Elsie’s father locked in a prisoner-of-war camp – and Charlie away overseas, they had much in common, but today at least, they had something to be happy about.

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Later that evening, after the cake had been cut and Violet had made a teary speech about wishing the war would end so families could get on with their lives, Audrey distributed small pieces of cake to the guests, who closed their eyes in pleasure when they had a bite.

‘Is it true what they say?’ asked Elsie’s sister, June. ‘If the baker baked the cake with love in his or her heart, the bride and groom’s marriage will be strong?’

‘I like to think so,’ smiled Audrey, patting June’s head. ‘Let’s hope so. Though I know Lily here doesn’t agree!’

Lily, whose copper hair was resting on her shoulders, hoisted Joy onto her hip and took a sip of sherry from her glass. ‘I’ve decided I’m not the marrying kind,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to be anyone’s wife, really. Things are changing for women, aren’t they? Since so many men have gone to war, women are filling their shoes, taking their jobs and proving not all women want to be at home and raise a family.’

Audrey smiled at Lily. She was a feisty young lady and was managing marvellously with her new part-time job. She wasn’t surprised by her attitude to marriage – especially after her experience with Henry – but she didn’t want her to close her heart to the possibility of love.

‘You never know what the future will bring,’ said Audrey. ‘Keep an open mind and an open heart, that’s what I say.’

After standing talking to family and guests, Audrey took a moment to sit down. When the air-raid siren sounded, there was a brief panic, but most people stayed where they were, as they had started to do, defying Hitler’s army to ruin the day. However, the siren wasn’t a false alarm. Over the centre of Bournemouth, a German bomber dropped two parachute mines on the Pier Approach and every window of the Russell-Cotes Art Gallery and Museum was shattered, but the wedding party continued as if nothing had happened – the gathered family and friends determined to see out Elsie and William’s big day, no matter what.

By 11 p.m., with Mary yawning and Audrey realising she should get her home to bed, Audrey felt a strange dizziness hit her. She popped outside to get some fresh air.

‘I think I’ve had too much sherry,’ she told Lily, who came outside with her.

‘You’re ever so pale,’ said Lily. ‘You’re not coming down with something, are you?’

Audrey frowned and considered her symptoms: dizziness, queasiness and food tasting a bit funny. Was she coming down with something? A thought flashed into her head: Or was she…?

Instinctively, her hand fell to her stomach, where she gently prodded the flesh through her dress. She remembered the night that Charlie had come home, the tender hours they had enjoyed together. Under the moonlit sky, a startling realisation occurred to her.

‘That’s not possible though,’ she said quietly, not thinking about the fact that Lily was still there.

‘Anything’s possible, Audrey!’ said Lily flippantly, before shivering and returning inside, leaving Audrey alone in the road, a surge of excitement coursing through her.

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When the very last of the wedding confetti had blown away in the breeze, and Elsie and William’s wedding day was but a precious memory, Audrey waited in the doctor’s appointment room, nervously pushing her wedding ring up and down her finger. After that night at the reception, when she realised that she’d missed her monthlies and was feeling quite queasy, she’d waited for more weeks to pass until she was sure she had fallen. Seeing the doctor was just a formality, but he was still the only other person in the world who knew.

‘Congratulations, Mrs Barton,’ Doctor Bradwell said, after his observations were complete. ‘I know you’ve been trying for a long time for a baby, and this is splendid news. I expect you’ll want to inform Charlie at once? As an expectant mother you’ll be entitled to the green ration book and extra oranges and bananas when available, eggs, milk and vitamin supplements. You’ll have to work out what to do about the running of the bakery, of course. You won’t be wanting to work for too long.’

‘I’ll work until the day I go into labour,’ she said, in a stunned voice. ‘The bakery needs me.’

The doctor looked at her with a kindly expression and sat back in his chair. ‘You can’t be all things to all people,’ he said. But Audrey, vehemently shaking her head, didn’t agree.

‘I think in wartime that is exactly what women are having to be, Doctor,’ she said, before standing, shaking his hand in thanks, and pulling on her gloves, ready to leave. ‘One and a half million women are facing conscription and direction now, and most I know are desperate to help put an end to this heinous war.’

Doctor Bradwell stood up from his chair and laughed gently. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said. ‘Perhaps women should be running the country!’

Audrey wasn’t sure how to take this comment because there were still men in the town who were not able to accept and appreciate all that women were now doing since the men had gone to fight. Slightly aggrieved, she stood taller and straighter and lifted her chin. Thinking of the Land Girls and the WRNS and the WAAF and the girls in the munitions factories building Spitfires, and the grandmas knitting for the Forces and the mothers digging for victory, and the nurses tending the wounded soldiers and the housewives creating family meals from rations and caring for evacuees, she smiled.

‘We pretty much are,’ she said, as she left the surgery, and stepped onto Belle Vue Road, feeling a mixture of excitement, disbelief and trepidation. Her suspicions now confirmed, Audrey held her secret in her heart like a precious jewel. After years of longing for a child of their own, she had now fallen, but it was a bittersweet joy. Charlie was away and though she had written to him several times since he’d returned to active service, she hadn’t had a letter back from him.

Whispering words of love to Charlie, wherever he was that morning and whatever he was facing, she longed to tell him this news. Imagining the surprised smile breaking out on his face when he read her letter, she found herself suddenly bursting out with laughter as she walked home. Covering her mouth with her hand, she told herself she must remain calm and sensible. She would write to Charlie and only after she began to show would she tell people their news. Mary first, because she didn’t want the little girl to feel as if she didn’t matter. It was all going to be hard work, organising the running of the bakery and her responsibilities with a newborn, but she would manage it – somehow. That’s what women did, after all.

‘Mrs Barton?’ said a woman’s voice from behind her when she turned into Fisherman’s Road. Audrey turned and blinked in the afternoon sunlight, recognising the woman as Margaret Peak, the billeting officer. ‘Do you have a moment, please?’

‘Yes,’ said Audrey, suddenly frowning, worrying about Mary. ‘Of course. There’s not a problem with Mary, is there?’

Margaret shook her head and smiled. ‘I’ve spoken to Mary’s aunt and she’s more than happy for you to keep Mary here with you,’ she said. ‘There’s paperwork to fill out to make it formal, but I thought I’d bring you the news in person. A letter will follow.’

Audrey’s heart exploded with joy. Enthusiastically shaking Margaret’s hand, she beamed in thanks and hugged the billeting officer’s stiff frame, before laughing and bidding her farewell. When Mary had arrived at the bakery last year, neither of them had known what the future held, but now, thankfully, Audrey could offer the little girl stability and love. The bakery family was growing.

Overwhelmed with all the news, Audrey rushed past Old Reg, who was wiping down the grocery window, and into the bakery, not saying ‘hello’ to anyone. She flew upstairs into the kitchen, where she pushed shut the door and pulled out her writing paper. Sitting at the kitchen table, she started a letter to her dearest Charlie, a tear of joy blurring the ink on the paper.

Resting the pen on the table, listening to the sounds of the busy bakery shop beneath, she folded the paper and held it lightly to her lips, staring out of the window at the sun setting over the sea, leaving the most glorious red and purple sky in its wake.

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