Elizabeth Elgin - Windflower Wedding

‘Alice is to work for Morris and Page, that nice shop in Harrogate. Daisy once worked there, in the counting house.’

‘And what is Mrs Dwerryhouse to count?’

‘Alice is to work there Mondays and Thursdays – doing alterations. She was a dressmaker, remember? The rest of the week they will phone her if anything urgent comes in. Julia thinks she will only be busy when the sales are on. People can’t buy a lot of clothes now. Alice is quite pleased about it, I believe. Part time will suit her nicely and the Labour Exchange has agreed to it.’

‘How old is Mrs Dwerryhouse?’

‘A little older than me and a little younger than Julia, I believe. She registered a week ago with the C to Fs.’

‘She gets part-time work yet you, Anna Petrovska, land yourself with a full-time position.’

‘You are right, Mama!’ Anna said as if she had only just thought of it. ‘But we must take what we are given and not complain.’ She hoped her feelings did not betray her because all at once she was looking forward to starting work at the surgery. ‘I must try to remember what Daisy once said when she joined the Wrens; that if anything I can do will shorten the war by even an hour, then I must do it, whether I want to or not.’

She looked down at the tray on her knees to hide the pleasure in her eyes. She hoped she didn’t sound as smug as she felt.

‘After all, Mama,’ she said softly, ‘we must never forget there’s a war on!’

A war that brought Gaston Martin into her life, into her garden, could not be all bad, thought Madame Piccard.

Her woodshed was full in readiness for the cold weather; her paths had been weeded and wayward shrubs and bushes cut back. Each day when Bernadette came to share the good news the BBC was sending to France, she commended Gaston’s hard work, wishing sniffily that her Denys was as good with a spade. But Bernadette’s husband sometimes disappeared for days on end and she had more sense than to ask where he had been.

‘The Boche is finished in Egypt,’ she announced on her last visit. ‘I thought you would like to know.’

‘You’ll get us all into trouble, listening to that wireless,’ Tante Clara grumbled, though she suspected it was not only news broadcasts Bernadette and her man listened in to. ‘What else did it say?’

‘That Italians and Germans are surrendering in their thousands and that Spitfires and food have got through to Malta, at last. But I must go, make a meal for Denys.’

‘He’s back, then? Beats me where that husband of yours gets to. Has he got a mistress?’

‘Tante Clara,’ Natasha scolded when their neighbour had left, nose in air, ‘that wasn’t kind. Perhaps Denys can’t tell anyone where he goes. For all we know, he may be –’

‘Child! How many times must I tell you that we don’t know

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