‘No,’ he would say, ‘I left them on the kitchen table for you. Don’t tell me you didn’t pick them up.’

It would have been a sweet moment.

Oh, why the hell had he let them come with him? It had delayed him, and now he was well and truly stuck. He should have just set off straight away alone in the night, then he wouldn’t have had to face their questions either.

His wife and mother-in-law were sitting on a comfortable settee in the foyer when he got back. They were both looking up at someone. Freddie couldn’t see who it was until he came round the side of a huge flowerpot with a massive aspidistra and by then it was too late. His heart sank as Agatha turned to him and said, ‘This police officer says we have to go back home. There’s been an incident.’

Freddie’s face paled. ‘An incident? What incident?’

‘There’s been a fire on your property, sir. A cottage has been badly damaged.’

Freddie decided to leg it. The policeman was the wrong side of fifty and very overweight. He turned sharply, but found himself facing another, much younger police officer. ‘That’s too bad,’ he said, regaining his composure, ‘but it doesn’t really concern me. I’m sure my mother-in-law has already told you the property belongs to her.’

‘To Millicent,’ said Agatha.

Freddie blinked. ‘You never told me that.’

‘It was none of your business,’ Agatha snapped.

‘That may well be the case, sir,’ said the constable, ‘but that doesn’t account for the body. It looks like there’s been a murder.’

Freddie’s jaw dropped. Agatha took in a noisy breath and Pearl fainted.

Seebold and Lena were still in a state of shock when they arrived at the mortuary in Broadwater. There was some paperwork that needed to be done and a police officer accompanied them down a corridor as they set off to view the body. As they drew nearer to the door at the end of the corridor, Seebold began to drag his feet. He stopped walking and shook his head apologetically.

‘Sorry, Lena love. I know I’m being a wuss, but I can’t. I can’t look at her all dead. Not now . . . not yet.’

Lena was desperately upset as well, but she was clearly made of sterner stuff. She simply nodded and continued to follow the undertaker and the policeman.

Seebold sat on a chair in the corridor and, leaning forward, put his head in his hands. He closed his eyes. His chest felt like lead. He could hardly breathe. She’d died never knowing how much he loved her. He should have told her. Lena told him to tell her, but he was too afraid. What an idiot he’d been. He always thought having her close just as a friend was better than not having her at all, but now he wished he’d told her. He sensed a movement above him but he didn’t look up. Then a soft voice said, ‘What’s going on, Seebold? Why are we here?’

The voice was hers, but it couldn’t be her, could it. She was behind that door, under a sheet, all cold and dead. I’m hallucinating, he told himself. It’s the grief.

But when he felt a light touch on his shoulder, he started. His head shot up and, as soon as he saw her, he cried out in shocked surprise.

At the same time, the mortuary door opened and closed and Lena came running towards them. ‘Milly!’ she said, her voice choked with emotion. ‘Where have you been? Dear God in heaven. The body – we thought it was you.’

Seebold rose to his feet. ‘I thought I’d lost you, duchess,’ he said, grasping her hands. ‘I couldn’t bear it if I’d lost you.’

Milly frowned. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. He’d obviously been crying. ‘I’m sorry. I stayed with one of the girls in Worthing last night.’ She paused. ‘I don’t understand. Inspector Young came to Hubbard’s and told me I had to come and identify a body. They said we’d had a fire and someone had been found dead. For one ghastly moment, I thought it was you.’ She was looking at Lena. ‘I’ve been out of my mind with worry. So who is it? And what were they doing in the cottage?’

They both turned towards Lena. By now she was visibly upset too. Milly’s heart was thumping.

Seebold put his hand gently onto Lena’s shoulder. ‘Did you recognise the person?’

Lena nodded her head. ‘It was Nan.’ She gave an involuntary shudder. ‘Oh Milly, poor Nan is dead. Someone banged her on the head and then set the cottage on fire.’

The next few hours were terribly painful for all of them. The girls spent the night with the people at the stables, then Seebold drove them back to Nan’s cottage the next day. The worst thing was going to be having to tell Cyril. It was obvious that he was completely unaware of what had happened because he had been in Horsham visiting his sick brother.

When they all walked in, they knew Cyril was already back home. ‘Come in, come in,’ he said. He was twiddling with the radio knobs. ‘Sit down. I’ll soon have this thing working.’

‘Cyril—’ Milly began.

‘Shh, girl,’ he said. ‘Mr Chamberlain is about to speak. Tell me what you’ve got to tell me when he’s finished.’

The familiar voice of the prime minister came through the crackling radio.

‘I am speaking to you from the cabinet room at 10 Downing Street. This morning the British ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note stating that unless we heard from them by 11 o’clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.’

Cyril turned the radio off. Nobody spoke until he said, ‘So that’s it then. We thought it was coming and now it’s here.’

Milly stared at her feet. War. What did it mean? How scary. She half expected to hear the thundering roar of aeroplanes overhead, but an uneasy silence filled the room. Now that there was a war, what should she do? Perhaps she should join up? She quite fancied the WAAFs but as yet she didn’t know that much about them. She glanced at Lena and Seebold. If there was a war, they would be separated. They might not see each other for ages. She rubbed her forehead. There was too much going on right now to think clearly.

Lena felt a sense of relief. She had been wrestling with indecision for so long and now what to do with her life had been settled for her. The country was at war. She would have to do her bit. All that remained was to decide which bit. Should she join one of the forces or go for some sort of civilian post? She’d heard that the National Pigeon Service was recruiting people with homing pigeons, and she’d already contacted them. In fact, the official was coming to see her next week. Then she remembered the fire. Had the birds survived? And what about the hens and the rabbits? Her breath caught in her throat. And what about poor old Nipper?

Lena glanced across at her sister and Seebold, and a cold shudder went through her body. War. People died in wars. Supposing . . . Dear God, it didn’t bear thinking about, especially now that Nan had gone. She sighed. At least poor Nan had been spared that.

Seebold was filled with new resolve. He hadn’t told the girls but he’d had a letter from the Home Office a couple of days ago. It was ironic really. All that plotting and planning around the wolf, all that ducking and diving, and now they’d written to tell him that all places of entertainment were to be closed forthwith. He’d been an idiot, of course. He knew that now. He’d risked the girls’ reputations and nearly ended up in jail himself, and for what?

He’d already arranged to put everything into storage for the duration, and then he’d do what he’d always promised himself he would do. He’d join up. He’d prefer to do something involving an engine, spanners and oily rags, so maybe the Royal Engineers, or RAF ground staff, or maybe as a ship’s engineer. That would be good. Ship’s engineers worked on everything from ships to aircraft and submarines.

‘I only just got back from Horsham,’ said Cyril, breaking into their thoughts. ‘My brother has been ill. Nan will be so pleased to see you, and she’ll be right glad when I tell her my brother is on the mend at last. Sorry she’s not here. She’ll be at church, I expect. Never misses church, does my Nan.’

All at once Milly felt ashamed. Here she was thinking about herself and how the war would affect her when she still hadn’t told Cyril why they were here. She took a deep breath. ‘I think you’d better sit quietly for a minute, Cyril,’ she said gently. ‘We have something to tell you.’

* * *

Later, much later, they all sat in the kitchen, hardly knowing what to say. Soon after they’d told him, Cyril had gone to his room a broken man. Lena had got up to follow him, but he’d put his hand up. ‘Just give me a minute, lass. Give me a minute.’ And he closed the door.

Milly blew her nose. Seebold laid his hand on her arm and she gave him a weak smile. Cyril and Nan had been married for more than forty years, and they all knew he’d be completely lost without her. On top of all that, it didn’t help matters to know that the country was at war.

Lena rose to make yet another pot of tea. She wondered, vaguely, why everyone thought a cup of tea would make any difference at a time like this; but they did, herself included.

‘Why was she at the cottage anyway?’ Seebold asked.

Milly shrugged. ‘All I know is that she wasn’t here when we got up Friday morning.’

Lena pushed a cup and saucer in front of Seebold. ‘We thought she might have gone into the village.’

‘I feel really bad about it now,’ said Milly, ‘but I didn’t give it much thought. I had to go to work.’

‘And I went to Frampton’s to buy some chicken feed,’ said Lena.

‘Is there sugar in this tea?’ asked Seebold.

Milly rose to get the sugar bowl and, as she did, she noticed a piece of paper which had fallen onto the floor by the dresser. Picking it up, she let out a gasp. ‘Nan wasn’t even here that night,’ she said. She put the slip of paper onto the table in front of them.

Gone to shut up the hens.