‘I suppose it does.’
Lilian squeezed her sister’s arm. ‘I know you’re worrying about leaving, Bob, but you honestly don’t need to. We’re all in the best place for us.’
‘You’ll write, won’t you?’
‘Of course, every week.’
Bobby lowered her voice. ‘How did Dad pass the night?’
‘He asked for a drink after tea,’ Lilian said quietly. ‘I fetched it, obviously. I know it’s always worse if we try to keep it from himonce he’s asked for it. Anyway, it at least knocked him out. There was some whimpering in the early morning, but I soon got him quiet.’
‘Did Tony hear?’
‘No, he slept through. I’ve tried to prepare him. It can only be a matter of time until Dad has one of his fits.’ Lilian sighed. ‘Dad’s still struggling with the pregnancy. He can hardly bear to look at me now I’m big.’
‘He’ll come around.’
‘I hope it’s soon, that’s all.’
Daffodils lined the path to the church, its stained-glass windows sparkling like precious gemstones in the sun. Bobby could see the vicar at the door, greeting people as they arrived. There were to be a small number of guests: mostly friends from the village and the airmen’s hospital at Sumner House. Topsy’s grander acquaintances – friends of her father’s, the young people she knew from schooldays and the fashionable men who always seemed to hang around her – had been told that there was little room in the church, but they would be welcome in the church hall afterwards.
This was an excuse, of course, in deference to Teddy’s feelings. He had allowed his bride to do as she wished when it came to the reception, but had begged that the ceremony itself would be as intimate as possible.
‘I suppose I’ll be back here next month for your wedding,’ Lilian observed. ‘You might have to push the pews a little further apart for me by then.’
‘Assuming the WAAF approve my leave.’ Bobby sighed. ‘Lil, I’m worried.’
‘I told you, there’s no need. We’ll be all right.’
‘Not about you. It’s Charlie. I didn’t want to say anything to Mary, but it isn’t just this week I haven’t had a letter. It’sbeen over a fortnight. He never normally goes so long without writing.’
Lilian shrugged. ‘They’ll be caught in the post. How many times when I was in Greenwich have you had letters from weeks back arrive all at the same time?’
‘Well, a few, but—’
‘Letters from military do seem to get held up more frequently than civilian post. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.’
‘I hope not, but if Charlie’s letters to me have gone missing, why should one have turned up at Moorside? Surely if one gets lost on the way, they all should.’
‘Not necessarily.’
‘Still, I can’t help worrying. I wish I could speak to him. Perhaps it’s nothing, but I’d like to hear him tell me everything’s all right between us.’
Lilian raised an eyebrow. ‘Any reason it shouldn’t be?’
Bobby rubbed her cheek. ‘Not that I can think of.’
‘He hasn’t cooled off?’
‘Not at all. In fact he’s been fonder than ever, although he can have some dark moods these days.’ She paused. ‘I did wonder though…’
‘What?’
‘Something happened, Lil. Well, technically nothing happened, but it’s been on my mind. My conscience says I ought to tell Charlie, and yet it seems so unfair to give him another thing to worry about. I shouldn’t confess things that’ll upset him to ease my own selfish conscience, should I?’
‘Bobby, what are you gibbering about?’ Lilian asked. ‘You want to tell Charlie about a thing that didn’t happen?’
‘It sort of happened. It felt like it happened, but then afterwards it seemed so foolish that I persuaded myself it was nothing.’ Bobby took Lilian’s elbow to hold her back, lowering her voice. ‘There was something… something with Ernie King.’
