‘But he isn’t a boy, Reg. He’s a man – a man about to go to war. I know how much it would mean to him to know you’re proud of him for what he’s doing. Think about it. Please.’
He looked at her curiously for a moment. ‘And what about ye two then? Still courting?’
Bobby flushed. ‘I… yes. At the moment.’
‘Has he asked you about being wed? I reckon I’m entitled to know, as his brother.’
‘He’s asked – lots of times – but I haven’t given him an answer yet. I’m… still deciding what to do for the best.’
‘My missus thinks you might be just the wife our Charlie needs to finally make him respectable.’
‘And what do you think?’
‘I think she might be right. Then again she might be wrong, and I don’t want to see someone else whose welfare I care about dragged down by him. My brother isn’t a bad man at heart, but it’d be a fool who ever relied on him for anything.’ He paused. ‘Be cautious, lass, that’s all. The thing about marriage is that there’s no way back if you make the wrong choice.’
‘I know. Thanks for the advice, Reg.’
They were interrupted by a tap at the door. Reg called for whoever was there to come in, and Florence appeared with her sister.
Reg frowned. ‘You pair ought to be at school.’
‘There’s a half-day holiday today,’ Florence said. ‘Mary told us to ask if you want some tea making.’
‘We’rehelping,’ Jessie announced importantly, placing significant emphasis on the last word.
Bobby laughed. ‘Helping or hindering?’
‘Honest, Bobby, we are helping,’ Florence said. ‘I hung out the washing. Mary let me stand on a chair and do it.’
‘I peeled the potatoes for dinner,’ Jessie informed them eagerly. ‘Mary says if we’re good, we can help bake the bread too.’
‘Aye, tell Mary I could manage a brew.’ Reg hobbled back to his own desk and sat down. ‘Hop along then, you two. You know you’re not to bother us in here when we’re working.’
Jessie had wandered over to Bobby’s desk, however, and was looking at her notes with fascination.
‘Is it code?’ she asked.
‘I suppose it’s a sort of code, yes,’ Bobby said.
‘Ooh! For sending messages to spies and things?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ she answered with a smile. ‘It’s called shorthand. It helps me to write faster, and it keeps things secret too. Only Reg and I are able to read it.’
The little girl’s eyes sparkled. ‘I love secret codes. I know lots of codes and spy tricks, like where you use lemon juice to write and it’s invisible till you put it over a candle, and the one where you make a wheel to swap the letters so only your friends with the same wheel can read what it says. Can you teach me this one too?’
‘I could teach you a little of it, if you’ve the patience to learn.’
‘Hooray!’ She turned to grin at her sister. ‘If she teaches us, we can play Spy School, Florrie.’
Bobby smiled. ‘We’ll all play later, shall we? I have to work now. You go back to Mary and let her know about the tea.’
Jessie nodded and went out, but Florence hung back. She was looking shyly at Reg.
‘Reg, are you writing things for your magazine?’ she asked.
‘I am,’ he said, not looking up from his typewriter.
‘What are you writing?’
