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children. Generally he was a kind, tolerant man and all in all, theirs was a happy though uneventful, marriage.
       On the other hand The Pomfrets seemed to have a highly emotional and varied marriage. Their home, always noisy one way or another, meant her and Ben had little chance of a bit of peace and quiet, but when she heard them laughing fit to burst at Joe’s comical antics she guessed that in-between the terrible outbursts there must be the good times for them.
       The main thing was that there was always plenty of music. If it wasn’t the wireless or gramophone blaring, it was Joe on the piano, mouth-organ or accordion playing all the Music Hall songs while the rest of them sang along. Sometimes, from behind her kitchen curtain, she watched him marching up and down the garden banging an invisible big drum on his belly or swinging his laughing daughters in the air as he stomped and twirled and sang. Those were the times when she fleetingly envied Florrie her unconventional, handsome husband.
       The Cathedral was filled to bursting by the time Ben and Edie arrived. The service followed its usual pattern until it came to the sermon when the Provost carrying a portable wireless made his way to the front of the middle aisle.  Only the thud of his footsteps on the flagged floor and the sporadic bronchitic coughing of an old man to his left broke the silence. Ben felt Edie’s trembling body against his own and took her shaking hands in his, rubbing them gently to calm her. The congregation braced itself and prepared for the worst.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX 
       Women - and men too - wept silently as they listened to Neville Chamberlain’s momentous message coming from that insignificant-looking wireless. The country, The Prime Minister was saying, was now at war with Germany.
       The Bishop quietly explained that he was abandoning his prepared sermon, as he doubted anyone would listen. Instead he paid tribute to everyone who had fought so long and hard for peace and led prayers for Great Britain’s leaders and for the King and Royal Family. Finally, he encouraged his flock to stay cheerful, have faith in the real things like family and kindly neighbours and keep the belief that war would pass. There was no hysteria. Ben and Edie, like everyone else, quietly walked outside and made their way home.
       Unlike their neighbours, Joe and Florrie attended church only on special occasions, and this hadn’t seemed like one of them. Holding hands across the kitchen table, they listened to the broadcast in shocked silence.
       Thankfully, Joe was in a “protected industry” and would not be called up for military service, so that was one less worry. Courage should have been in his blood if his father’s exploits were anything to go by  - only last week the brave old soldier, now 64, had presented himself at the recruitment office ready to fight in his third war, but this time there were just too many years to knock off his age. But although Joe was proud of his old fella, he had no inclination to follow in his footsteps.
       He looked at Florrie. ‘Well that’s it then cock, there’s a war on'. By saying it out aloud he’d confirmed it once and for all.
       A quick glance at the clock told him that the pub would be open for business by the time he’d walked to the corner.  He was badly in need of a pint of Thwaites and it was about time he found out what Oliver and Fred thought of all this war business.
    *
       With no faith in any Government-designed air-raid-shelter, Joe was soon busy building his own little refuge in the cupboard under the stairs.
       After reinforcing the ceiling with steel girders he gave the room a colour-wash of sky-blue distemper (the only means available at that time of  “beautifying” a home). A small second-hand bed went snugly between the two longest walls, and an old dining chair restored to new life with the green paint left over after