It wasn’t safe. Audrey knew that. For weeks now London had been under attack in day and night-time raids, in a campaign known as the ‘Blitz’, and she had prepared herself for the worst. Charlie had pleaded with her not to go, but despite the travel restrictions she had made her way to the capital, as the need to tell Victor about Lily and see Daphne was pressing heavily upon her.

Making her way along the capital’s streets, pulling her blue coat tightly around her and clutching her gas mask case and the Christmas fruit cake wrapped in brown paper, she could hardly believe her eyes. Everywhere she looked there was horrific bomb damage: jagged shells of buildings rising out of flattened debris into the sky like stalagmites, rows upon rows of houses blown apart, parts of houses still standing as if cut open with a carving knife, entire streets decimated and reduced to bricks and rubble and bent girders jutting out at awful angles, people working with shovels and pickaxes or just standing staring, as if frozen in disbelief. Audrey’s mouth fell open as she watched a milkman, wearing his white coat, carrying full bottles of milk across a bombsite, still delivering his round despite the ruins and wreckage.

‘Mornin’,’ he called to her with a smile. ‘Cool wind, ain’t it?’

‘Morning,’ she said, full of admiration for the milkman’s stoicism. ‘Good day to you.’

With glass and debris crunching underfoot, she held her breath as she walked towards Balham High Street, south London, where Daphne and Victor lived. With every footstep, her heart broke a hundred times over as the signs of Londoners’ determination to carry on, no matter what, became evident. Never more so than in the middle of the high street; early signs of Christmas were creeping into carefully put-together window displays, but in the road outside the shops there was a massive crater, over ten feet deep, where a bomb had struck outside the tube station. Audrey gasped as she tried to process what had happened. Being lifted out of the crater by a giant crane was a London bus. Suspended in mid-air, the bus was a surreal sight, making the ordinarily busy street seem like something from a ghastly dream. Increasingly terrified for her mother’s safety, ghosts from years past, the faces of school friends and neighbours leapt into her mind’s eye, vying for attention. Where are you all now? she thought, biting the side of her cheek until she tasted blood.

Finding Milkwood Street, where her mother and Victor lived, Audrey’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she feared it would burst. She scanned the street, a row of terraced two-up, two-down Victorian houses, some of them with pots of colourful flowers in their postage-stamp-size front gardens where the metal gates had been removed, collected for war use.

Audrey was relieved to see that none of the immediate neighbouring houses had suffered a direct hit, though some windows had shattered and were boarded up. Her legs trembled and nausea hit as she approached the front door of the house that she’d lived in for over a year in a stepfamily that was more out of step than in. Lifting her hand to knock on the black-painted door, it was as if she’d frozen solid and was unable to do it.

‘Give me strength,’ she whispered, worrying she might keel over at any moment. Racked with doubt about her decision to come to London, she was tempted to turn on her heel and run straight back to the train station, but squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath, knocked, stepped back from the door and waited. There were hurried footsteps inside the house, the sound of a key clattering in the lock, and then it quickly opened to reveal Daphne, who looked carefully put together. The sophisticated black dress she wore was not one that Audrey recognised, but it looked brand new, with pretty cream lace collars and cuffs. Was this for Audrey’s benefit?

‘Audrey,’ Daphne said in a choked whisper. An incredulous smile appeared and disappeared on her mother’s face in a blink, as she opened the door wider. ‘Audrey, come in. You wrote to tell us you were coming, but I didn’t know whether you would. I’ve been sitting here since dawn, waiting for you.’

Daphne ushered Audrey into the dark hallway, where mother and daughter stood opposite one another, apparently not knowing what to do. Audrey longed for her mother to take her in her arms and hold her tight, but in a beat, the moment was lost. It reminded Audrey of the day her father died. Though Audrey had been desperate for her mother’s comfort, Daphne had preferred to keep a stiff upper lip.

‘I wrote what time I’d be here,’ said Audrey. ‘It’s good to see you, Mother.’

Trying not to cry, she leaned towards Daphne and briefly embraced her, resting her chin on her shoulder. Daphne’s thin body trembled with emotion usually pent up and buried deep inside, until she recovered her poise and moved away from Audrey, clasping her hands together in front of her as if she couldn’t trust herself not to grab Audrey and never let go.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ Audrey said quietly. ‘Why have you never replied to my letters? I’ve always written to you with love in my heart.’

Daphne, quickly wiping her eyes, moved across the hall and, with shaking hands, opened a drawer in the bureau, where a bundle of letters were carefully tied together with a length of red ribbon.

‘I read them all and I wanted to write back,’ she said, her hand at her throat. ‘But after what William did and the way you stood by him, I felt perhaps you’d made a choice… I felt…’

Daphne stopped talking and Audrey watched her struggle to put her feelings into words. Staring into the middle distance, she gave up with a small shake of her head and Audrey knew they were both recalling the night that Victor and Daphne insisted William leave the house. There had been a terrible fight, with things said that could never be unsaid and the glass frame of her dead father’s photograph crushed under the heel of Victor’s shoe, ground into the floor until his face was erased. Then it became physical. Daphne slapped William around the face and he, unbelievably, slapped her back. Victor had thrown William from the house so hard he had fallen spread-eagled onto the road, shouting that he was never allowed to return.

‘You must understand why I had to go with William,’ said Audrey. ‘He’s my little brother. I had to look after him. I couldn’t stay here.’

‘Well there you are then,’ said Daphne, defensively. ‘You made your choice.’

‘But I’ve written to you numerous times,’ Audrey said, her voice cracking. ‘I don’t think we should hold grudges, especially in these times. Father wouldn’t want that, would he?’

Daphne sighed and shook her head. ‘I know,’ she said, her eyes flicking up. ‘I thought about replying but…’

‘But Victor said you couldn’t?’ remarked Audrey. ‘How can you let him dictate what you do? Why don’t you stand up to him? I’ve never understood how he’s got such a hold over you.’

Daphne looked up at Audrey. She seemed exhausted by the conversation. Perhaps, just as Audrey had done over the years, she had been playing out this scenario for a long time.

‘He’s never wanted to share me,’ said Daphne. ‘He wants me all to himself. Ever since William attacked me and Victor and you both left, he considers you disloyal and undeserving of me. He loves me, Audrey.’

Audrey knew she should say ‘And so do I’ to her mother, but a certain stubbornness stopped her from doing so.

‘William was fifteen and grieving for his father,’ said Audrey. ‘You’re his mother! You should defend him!’

‘William almost broke Victor’s jaw,’ said Daphne.

Audrey stopped herself from saying that Victor deserved everything he got and that if William hadn’t have thrown a punch at Victor after what he said about their father, she would have been sorely tempted.

‘But that was because he knew that Victor took you from Father,’ said Audrey. ‘And then Father died and Victor said we weren’t allowed to mention him by name in his house. He was talking about our father, the man you once loved, who loved us and who we loved and who I still miss.’

Audrey’s voice cracked and Daphne stared at her hands.

‘Victor has a certain idea about the way things should be,’ said Daphne, more softly now. ‘He doesn’t see any use in talking about and dredging up the past. Of course, his heart’s truly broken now that Lily has let him down.’

‘What did she tell you?’ asked Audrey, quickly wiping her eyes with a hanky, glad that the conversation was moving on.

‘She said she’d arranged to go and stay with you, which Victor wasn’t happy about,’ said Daphne. ‘Unfortunately we had to hear from her superior at work that she’d been let go for bad behaviour. She had such a good job you know? Victor wouldn’t let her out of his sight for weeks but she pushed him and pushed him, until one night Lily suddenly decided she needed to get away…’

At that moment, Victor came into the room and nodded at Audrey, but didn’t smile.

‘Victor,’ said Audrey. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Lily, as you know she’s staying with me and…’

‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘I am aware.’

Audrey struggled to find the words, suddenly doubting whether she’d done the right thing by coming here. There was something incredibly intimidating about Victor. It was his strict and sombre manner, the way he held his six-foot frame rigidly upright, the dour expression on his face and his crisp, serious tone. Audrey felt her own confidence diminish in his presence.

‘I know that Lily is pregnant,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘If that’s what you’ve come running to report.’

‘You know?’ Audrey asked, aghast. ‘How do you know?’

Victor put his hands behind his back and rocked on the balls of his feet, like a policeman. ‘I have been down to Bournemouth to check on her, more than once, and it’s impossible not to see that she is,’ he said.

Audrey reeled. ‘You came to Bournemouth but you didn’t talk to her?’ she said. ‘Were you following her? She’s been paranoid about someone following her, was it you?’

Victor stared beyond Audrey, through the net curtains and out into the street. ‘I wanted to know she was well enough,’ he said. ‘She’s my daughter. Despite how silly she’s been, I care for her deeply.’

‘Silly?’ said Audrey. ‘She’s a young woman who made a mistake, who needs her family on her side. For goodness sake, you and Mother were together when our father was dying but pretended you weren’t! Don’t be hypocritical.’

‘It wasn’t like that,’ said Daphne, holding her hand to her forehead. ‘Victor comforted me when your father fell ill, that’s all.’

Audrey knew that wasn’t true. She knew from what she’d seen with her own teenage eyes, but she wasn’t about to enter into another confrontation now. She had come here to get some help for Lily, not to go over old ground.

‘Lily’s going to have the baby at Christmas and I’m here to ask what she dare not,’ Audrey said. ‘Would you consider supporting her if she came back to London?’

Victor shook his head. ‘I will welcome my daughter back,’ he said. ‘But I will not have that bastard child in my house. This is my house, these are my rules.’

‘But she’s your daughter and her child will be your grandchild—’ said Audrey.

Daphne raised a hand to stop her speaking. ‘Audrey, please listen to Victor,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘These are my rules,’ Victor said, turning on his heel, leaving the room and slamming shut the door of his study.

Audrey, physically shaking, glared at Daphne for not standing up to Victor, feeling appalled that her mother couldn’t be more gutsy.

‘He won’t change his mind,’ said Daphne.

What about you? Audrey wanted to ask. She hated the fact that she thought her mother weak and useless, that she hadn’t even asked how William, her own son, was, let alone how Lily was faring. Her disappointment weighed heavily upon her, but this was wartime, and every day in London could be your last. The people who had lost their lives in the tube station the previous night would never again have the opportunity to see their families. She had to leave Daphne’s home on good terms.

‘I should go,’ Audrey said, moving towards the front door. ‘I brought you this fruit cake for Christmas. It’s not iced, but with dried fruit and nuts so hard to come by, I thought you would like it. If you change your mind, you are welcome to visit me in Bournemouth. We’re a family down there. One that I hope Father would have been proud of and would want to be a part of. Look what he did for you. He gave you his consent to be with Victor when he became ill and learned of your friendship. He didn’t make life difficult for you. He loved you too much for that. Can you not extend that understanding to me, William and Lily?’

Daphne’s face remained expressionless. She opened the door for Audrey but, just before she left, grabbed Audrey’s arm.

‘Victor worries about Lily,’ Daphne said, her voice tremulous. ‘She should know that he loves her.’ She retrieved a small parcel from the living room and handed it to Audrey. ‘It’s from Victor to Lily,’ said Daphne. ‘He wrapped it up the night she left for Bournemouth. It’s a book of poetry. Give it to her for Christmas.’

Audrey travelled home in a state of complete turmoil. By the time she reached Bournemouth she had decided to assign Daphne and Victor a room in her mind that she would leave firmly shut and open only when absolutely necessary. Her priority was the people in Bournemouth, who needed her.

When she arrived back at the bakery, Lily was waiting for her in the kitchen. She poured Audrey a cup of Ovaltine.

‘Your father already knew about the baby,’ Audrey said calmly. ‘He’s been down here to check on you, to see for himself that you are safe. I wonder if it’s him you think has been following you?’

‘What?’ Lily answered, horrified. ‘Why would he do that and not speak to me? All this time I’ve been thinking something sinister.’

Audrey sighed and shook her head. She wanted to speak her mind and tell Lily what she really thought about Victor and his moral high ground. But, looking at Lily’s sweet face, her red hair tumbling down over her shoulders, she couldn’t.

‘He loves you,’ she said, with a smile. ‘He wants you home, but not with your baby in tow. They can’t accept your indiscretion, Lily, I’m so sorry.’

‘I knew as much,’ said Lily.

‘I get the feeling he wants to pretend the whole thing isn’t happening,’ said Audrey, taking a seat at the kitchen table. ‘Your father gave me this. He said it’s a small gift for Christmas, since you won’t be home.’

Lily accepted the parcel with a sad smile and hugged it close to her chest.

‘Despite how he’s behaving, I still love him,’ Lily said, looking crushed. ‘I miss him dreadfully. My whole life has been about making him proud. Yes, he’s stern and strict and I thought I wanted to get away from him completely, but without him to make proud I wonder who it’s all for.’

How dreadful, Audrey thought to herself, to not stand beside your adoring daughter in her hour of need. She bit her lip, thinking that if she ever had a son or daughter she would put them first. Always. Family should find it in their hearts to forgive and love, no matter what.