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like for those left at home.’
    ‘Hell,’ Grace said. ‘But I cannot think it will be as bad as last time. Lessons have surely been learnt.’
    ‘It’s all very worrying. Harry said the Chalfont Works were making radios for aeroplanes and working double shifts.’
    ‘Julie, if you are asking my advice, I’d say seize your happiness while you can, make the most of every day and every night you are together. You can’t know how long it will last.’
    Julie jumped up and kissed Miss Paterson on the cheek. ‘That’s just what I wanted to hear.’ She sat down again, her exuberance suddenly evaporating. ‘But what about his family? What if they don’t like me?’
    ‘You are not marrying his family, Julie.’
    All the same, the visit to meet Harry’s parents was a terrifying prospect, but Harry had assured her they would all welcome her with open arms. He was somewhat over-optimistic; his mother welcomed her, not with open arms but with cool politeness.

Chapter Two
    Hilda Walker was very correct, dressed impeccably in a dark-grey calf-length skirt, a white high-necked blouse and a rope of pearls. Her hair was precisely coiffured and her fingernails long and buffed to a shine. Julie tried hiding her hands in the folds of her skirt but had to bring one out to shake hands.
    ‘Do sit down, Miss Monday,’ Mrs Walker said.
    Harry laughed and pulled Julie down on the sofa beside him. ‘Oh, Mum, this is Julie, not Miss Monday.’
    ‘Yes, I understand it is a made-up name.’
    ‘It’s the name I was registered with,’ Julie said. ‘No one knows my real name.’
    ‘It will soon be Walker,’ Harry put in. ‘And that will be real enough.’
    Mrs Walker did not respond to that as her husband entered the room and Julie jumped up to be introduced to him. He was an older version of Harry, silver-haired, very upright and a little portly. His amber eyes were so likeHarry’s she would have taken to him even if he had not been smiling a welcome. ‘I am glad to meet you at last,’ he said. ‘Do sit down again and tell us all about yourself.’
    She obeyed hesitantly, but there wasn’t much to tell and she realised how feeble she sounded and her voice faded to a stop.
    ‘No doubt we will learn more as we go along,’ he said. ‘Harry tells me he has asked you to marry him.’
    ‘Yes, but—’
    ‘But?’ Harry repeated in surprise. ‘You didn’t have any buts last week.’
    She turned to him. ‘I know. I was bowled over and pleased as punch, but when I stopped to think—’
    ‘Stop that, this minute, Julie Monday,’ he interrupted, reaching for her hand. ‘I won’t listen. We love each other and we are both old enough to know our own minds. You can’t back out on me now, I won’t allow it. You do love me, don’t you?’
    ‘You know I do. How could I not? You’re Harry.’
    ‘Then it is a done deed. You are engaged to me. We are here to talk about wedding arrangements and where we’ll live afterwards. We can do that over tea.’
    It was all going too fast for her and she played with her food and only half listened as dates and churches were suggested and decided upon and they moved on to discussing the reception. ‘I assume you have no one to arrange that for you,’ Mrs Walker said, still tight-lipped.
    ‘No. Do we need a reception?’
    ‘Of course we do. It will look odd if we don’t. If we are going to do it, we will do it properly. I’ll take over. We can hire a hotel room and they can do the catering. What about your wedding dress?’
    That was too much for Julie. Her spirit returned. ‘I can provide my own wedding dress, thank you,’ she said.
    This seemed to silence the lady, but not for long. She was soon talking about wedding cakes and flowers and whom to invite. Apart from Grace Paterson, Julie had no one to ask. Any friends she had had at the orphanage had gone their separate ways and none of the staff at Sir Bertram’s or those at the boarding house could be called friends.
    ‘Never