Audrey stood in the entrance to Maggie’s house, trying not to judge Maggie’s grandmother, Gwendolen, as she staggered across the room, knocking a glass of dark yellow liquid to the floor, before she slumped into a chair. The fire had gone out in the damp room and, by the look of the empty saucepans, there wasn’t much on offer in the way of dinner, besides a potato and two carrots that had clearly seen better days plus the crust of a stale loaf Audrey recognised as one of Barton’s. Newly washed tea towels were strung across the hearth – a small attempt at domesticity, at least – and a few pieces of crockery were piled up on a shelf above the sink, but apart from that the room was quite bare. It appeared that Gwendolen barely had two pennies to rub together – and what she did have, she probably spent on tobacco or alcohol.

‘Gracious me!’ muttered Audrey to herself. She’d had no idea that Maggie was living in such austere conditions, only that she lived with her two sisters and her grandmother since her parents were dead. Feeling desperately guilty for not knowing more about her friend’s home life, the penny suddenly dropped. Was this the reason Maggie had been taking ingredients from the bakery? Had she been stealing in order to help her family eat? The first thing she would do when she got back to the bakery was to put together a food parcel and drop it to the family anonymously. A few pots of jam and bottled fruit she’d prepared in the winter would be a good start. She still needed to talk to Maggie, of course. Stealing was wrong, but it seemed she probably had an explanation. ‘What a sorry state,’ Audrey whispered to herself, before increasing her volume: ‘I’ve come to see your granddaughter, Maggie.’

‘Taken to her bed, ’asn’t she?’ slurred Gwendolen. ‘Expect it’s about a fella. She puts it around a bit, or so I’ve ’eard. Always hangin’ around in them alleyways, like an alley cat she is, catching men like mice and playing around with them in her paws. Or claws, I should say.’

‘That doesn’t sound like the Maggie I know,’ said Audrey, frowning. ‘She’s a delightful girl, always smiling and polite, or singing. The customers love her. I missed her at work today and wanted to check she’s in good health and will be returning tomorrow.’

Gwendolen shrugged and pushed herself up once again from the chair. Smacking her lips together and rolling her tongue around her mouth, she pulled a disgruntled expression.

‘Smoker’s fur, ain’t it?’ she said, pointing to her mouth. ‘Can’t afford the mouth rinse though, can I?’

Audrey tried to hide her pity as Gwendolen limped across the floor in her threadbare apron, which looked like it hadn’t been washed in a decade, and shouted up the narrow staircase, before breaking into a hacking cough. It reminded her of Uncle John’s cough, which sounded like it might literally crack open his ribs at any moment. The woman clearly needed medical attention.

‘Maggie!’ she cried, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘You’ve a visitor. Get down ’ere now!’

The shouting and coughing was greeted with silence from Maggie, but moments later, she was at the top of the stairs, poking her head around the bedroom door. With her hairdo flat and unpinned, and without her usual make-up, Maggie looked pale and drawn – not at all like herself. On seeing Audrey, her cheeks flushed pink.

‘I know I’m in trouble,’ she said, sulkily. ‘I know what you’ve come to say.’

‘Hear me out,’ said Audrey. ‘Why don’t you come outside for a walk with me and we can talk? I’ll wait on the pavement.’

Audrey let herself out of the tiny terraced house, bidding farewell to Gwendolen, as the old woman resettled into her chair and stared into space.

‘You don’t know a thing about me, y’ judgemental witch,’ Gwendolen barked, her sharp words sticking into Audrey’s back like darts.

‘I’m not judging you, Gwendolen,’ she retorted. ‘Who am I to judge?’

Closing the door behind her and stung by Gwendolen’s harsh words, Audrey took a gulp of fresh air and, while waiting for Maggie, paced the street in front of the house, her gaze sliding over to the wall opposite, where a police officer was painting an arrow and the wording: Public Shelters in Vaults Under Pavements In This Street.

Tutting, Audrey wished for the millionth time that the war was over. At the moment, life felt like it was being held together by a thread and war was impacting on everything. Connections she had previously thought were strong and unbreakable were dissolving before her eyes. Take William and Elsie; she never could have anticipated that William would break off their engagement. His outburst earlier had shocked and surprised her and made her realise that his mental state was even more fragile than she’d thought. She didn’t believe for a second that he really wanted to split from his true love – there was something else going on. She had to get them back together, somehow. And Maggie, who she would never have expected to steal from her, had done so, probably because she was struggling at home.

Distracted by the sight of a young girl, no more than sixteen, approaching and obviously in tears, she stopped still.

‘Excuse me,’ Audrey said. ‘Are you okay?’

The girl stopped and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Her eyes and nose were bright red from crying. When she faced Audrey, she could see Maggie’s features staring back: the girl must be one of her sisters.

‘Who are you?’ the girl asked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Why are you outside my house?’

‘I’m visiting Maggie,’ she said. ‘Are you… her sister?’

‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I’m Isabel.’

‘I’m Audrey,’ she said. ‘I work with Maggie at the bakery. Why are you crying, sweetheart?’

‘Oh, I’ve been “let go” for working too slow,’ she sighed. ‘It’s because my hands are so sore.’

Isabel held up her red-raw hands for her to inspect. Audrey gasped and took the young girl’s hands in her own, frowning at the blistered skin. Isabel needed a warm bath, camomile lotion on those hands and, from the look of her ribs sticking through her dress, a decent meal.

Audrey opened her mouth to give the girl some advice, but the door to Maggie’s house flew open, then slammed shut and then Maggie appeared beside them, and threw her arms around her sister.

‘Oh gosh, Isabel, whatever’s happened?’ she said. ‘You’ve lost your job, haven’t you?’

Audrey watched as Maggie, who had applied make-up, fluffed up her hair and pulled on a cardigan, hugged her sister and patted her back while she cried on her shoulder. Feeling suddenly guilty for being there when Maggie had plenty to deal with, Audrey thought she should come back later.

‘Maggie, I should leave you to deal with your sister…’ she started.

‘No,’ said Maggie. ‘Wait, we need to talk. Isabel, go inside and put your feet up. We will talk later, and don’t worry, I’ll help you find more work. You’re better off away from that dreadful place! Just don’t tell grandmother yet, I’ll break it to her later.’

Audrey’s heart contracted as the sisters hugged one another. Maggie was always cheerful, no matter what was happening – and she loved that about her. Walking along in silence, Audrey struggled to find the right words, passing a corner shop where the shopkeeper had chalked up a sign that read: ‘Fags and Beer, We Are All Here’ and hung out a Union Jack flag, which flapped in the wind.

‘Maggie, I—’ she started, but Maggie laid a hand on her arm, to interrupt.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Maggie quietly. ‘I’ve taken sugar and dried fruit from the bakery and swapped it for clothing coupons. I know I’ve done wrong.’

‘Clothing coupons?’ Audrey asked, frowning. ‘I thought food perhaps, for your family, but clothing coupons… now I’m confused.’

Maggie stopped walking. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed.

‘You’ve seen what my life is like,’ she said, gesturing towards her home. ‘Between us we bring in just about enough money to pay the rent and put a meal on the table, but you know how much prices have gone up.’

Audrey nodded. It was true – some non-rationed items had rocketed.

‘You have your rations and the price of bread has stayed the same because it’s subsidised,’ said Audrey. ‘I’d never see you go without, Maggie.’

Maggie smiled in acknowledgement before carrying on.

‘We also pay for my grandmother’s bad habits,’ she said. ‘And we have to pay off her debt – she got into a bit of trouble a few years back and borrowed money off some lowlife around here. We have to help her out if we want to keep the roof over our heads. It’s that simple.’ She shrugged and pushed her hands into her dress pockets.

‘Yes,’ said Audrey. ‘I can see it’s not easy… your grandmother clearly has problems.’

‘I want a way out of this for me and my sisters,’ said Maggie. ‘And what have I got going for me? I don’t have brains, but I do have fair looks. People always comment on how well I look after myself. I’ve been spending the clothing coupons on good clothes, so that when I go out with George Meadows, he likes what he sees and thinks of me as a better class of girl. Then, when he asked me to marry him, I thought, “How on earth will I buy a dress?” It sounds daft, I know it does, but I took the sugar, thinking you wouldn’t miss it. I thought one day I’d pay you back somehow. I know it’s selfish of me, but I didn’t know what else to do.’

Audrey’s heart went out to Maggie. She pulled her in for a hug and squeezed her tight. Then she remembered her wedding ring.

‘I need to ask you another question,’ she said, unable to meet Maggie’s eye. ‘Did you take my wedding ring?’

Maggie shook her head emphatically. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘I’d never do such a thing. I swear, Audrey, I swear to you, I wouldn’t take something so precious. I should never have taken the sugar. I’m sorry.’

She wept into her hanky and Audrey gently patted her back. She could easily see and understand why Maggie had done what she’d done – desperate people did desperate things.

‘If you’ll permit me, I’ll work some shifts for free,’ offered Maggie. ‘To make up for my wrongdoing.’

‘Listen, I’ve got some dresses I never get the chance to wear,’ Audrey told her. ‘Why don’t you have a look at them for you and your sisters? Pat could take them in for you, if they’re too big. As for a wedding dress, they’re doing the rounds at the moment – people borrowing from each other, and buying them second-hand or making them from scratch. I’ll help you find something lovely, if you promise not to go behind my back again? If you’re in trouble, just come to me.’

Maggie sniffed, nodded and squeezed Audrey’s hand. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You’re so kind.’

‘I know a good shop girl when I see one,’ said Audrey, with a wink. ‘And everyone deserves a second chance.’

---

‘You’ve done what?’ said John, when she visited him in hospital a few days later and told him the whole story. ‘How can you give the girl her job back when she’s stolen from you? You must have taken leave of your senses!’

He hoisted himself up to sitting and burst into a coughing fit. Audrey passed him a cup of water, which he sipped, his eyes watering. His nurse popped her head in around the door and Audrey waved, to say he was okay.

‘I’ve decided to forgive her,’ she said when he’d calmed down again. ‘She knows the bakery inside out and the customers love her. She doesn’t have it easy, John, not at all. If I’m wrong, then on my own head be it. She’s got a wedding coming up and, to be frank, I think we could all do with enjoying a knees-up. I don’t want it all ruined just because she did something wrong.’

But John shook his head. He twisted around in the bed and slammed the glass of water down on the bedside table, where Audrey could see traces of a visit from his sister Pat. There was a jigsaw puzzle, a bar of Plain York Chocolate and a slice of gooseberry pie – Bournemouth was awash with dessert gooseberries since a consignment had arrived from Devonshire.

‘You want your head examining,’ said John, picking up the chocolate and offering her a piece. ‘And what about the old bakehouse? Is William helping? I can’t stand being stuck in here when I should be there!’

Audrey broke off a piece of chocolate and put it on her tongue. The sweetness was such a treat. Even though it hadn’t yet been rationed, the ingredients it was made with were scarce, so chocolate was becoming increasingly expensive and hard to come by. Some bars, such as KitKat, would not be made again until after the war.

‘Yes, he’s helping, thank goodness,’ Audrey said. ‘It’s hard for him, but he’s doing a grand job. I think it’s helping settle his mind too, but then again—’

Her gaze drifted to the window, where rain beat against the glass.

‘Then again, I wish I knew how to get him and Elsie back together,’ she continued. ‘They should be together.’

‘Send the lad in ’ere to see me,’ said John, reaching for the last of the chocolate. ‘I’ll have a word with ’im and knock some sense into ’im – it’s the least I can do.’