Over the coming days, following the news of Mary’s father’s death, everyone in the bakery did all they could to keep up the little girl’s spirits. Encouraged to help out in the bakery, she was also given more responsibility in the kitchen, including getting the breakfast on the table. Now, Mary was spreading margarine (made to go further by whipping it with milk and flour) on toast for herself and sitting with Lily and Joy at the kitchen table, while Audrey served customers in the shop. Popping upstairs with a letter for Lily, Audrey stroked Mary’s hair, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and smiled at her. Lily smiled at her stepsister in admiration – she was doing all she could to help Mary feel loved and cared for at all times.

‘Letter for you,’ said Audrey to Lily, then turning to Mary, ‘Are you ready to help Maggie in the shop after breakfast?’

Mary nodded and Lily thought it was a good thing there was so much for her to do because when you were grieving so deeply, it helped to be busy.

‘I’m not sure what this is, Audrey,’ said Lily, distractedly taking the letter. ‘How do I look? Smart enough? I’m nervous.’

Lily looked down at the simple, but smart navy dress that Audrey had lent her for her informal interview at the library. After meeting Victor in London, Lily had made the decision to find some work to aid the war effort, and she’d seen an advertisement calling for someone to help at the language centre at the local library, helping refugees of different nationalities – including German Jews, Austrians, Czechoslovakians and Polish, who were certified as refugees from Nazi oppression and given permission to remain in England – with their spoken English. There was a crèche facility at the library, which meant she could take Joy with her too.

‘You look perfect,’ said Audrey, as Lily started to open the letter. ‘Doesn’t she, Mary? Your red hair sets that navy dress off a treat. Good luck today.’

Lily opened the letter and quickly scanned it, then read it again to make sure she’d understood it properly – she put it down on the kitchen table, sat down and rested her hands on her lap. ‘Gracious me,’ she said. ‘I can’t quite believe it.’

Audrey, who was halfway out of the door, heading back down to the shop to serve the customers, turned back.

‘What can’t you believe?’ she asked. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘It’s Father and your mother,’ said Lily, her eyes wide open. ‘You won’t believe it, but they’re coming to visit.’

Audrey’s mouth fell open and, slowly, she came back into the kitchen. Twiddling her wedding ring round on her finger, all the colour drained from her face as she read the letter for herself. From downstairs Maggie called up for Audrey’s help: ‘The queue’s halfway down the road!’ but Audrey seemed not to hear her.

‘Well,’ she said, sinking into a chair. ‘I never, in a million years, thought this would happen. What will William say? He hasn’t seen them for years! I don’t even know if he’ll want to see them after what happened. Are they coming to see Joy, really?’

Lily, equally bemused, shrugged her shoulders, but slowly, realising that what she’d said in London that day must have changed Victor’s mind, a smile crept onto her face.

‘It must have been something I said when we met,’ she replied. ‘They’re coming next Sunday.’

‘Good Lord,’ said Audrey. ‘My mother is actually coming here? This will be the first time in seven years and she chooses now, during wartime, when Charlie’s not even here. I can hardly believe it, Lily.’

‘Audrey?’ Maggie called from downstairs, louder now. ‘I need a hand if you can?’

‘Coming!’ called Audrey, leaving Lily, Joy and Mary in the kitchen.

Lily thought that it was exactly because it was wartime that Victor and Daphne were visiting. Perhaps it had taken the realisation that life was short and the future uncertain for them to reconsider their attitude. She felt excited by the prospect – more than anything she would love for Victor to be a part of Joy’s life and she was pleased they were coming after she’d had her interview at the library. That way she could show her father that the good education he’d provided her was not going to waste just because she had a baby daughter.

Glancing at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece, Lily gasped. ‘Oh, Mary, I’ll be late!’ she said. ‘Can you hold Joy for me while I sort out these plates, please? Give her one of those jigsaw pieces to chew, she loves them on her gums.’

In Mary’s arms, Joy wriggled into position and tugged gently on Mary’s fringe with one hand, a piece of the jigsaw puzzle in the other. Despite everything she was going through, Mary giggled, which made Joy giggle too. Lily paused from rushing around the kitchen to smile at the girls, warmed by their innocence, and was filled with sudden hope for the future.