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Sussex.
    “Gretchen! Gretchen!” I cried. “Edward is home!”
    She was beside me, crying: “What? What?”
    “Gretchen must come home at once,” my mother was saying. “Yes, yes, Gretchen, isn’t it wonderful news?” No, she had not seen him yet. They would go to the hospital in Horsham. No, he was not badly hurt. Some little thing. Gretchen must not worry. My mother was planning practically. Perhaps we could keep Hildegarde down at Tregarland’s for the time being. Then Gretchen could come straight to Caddington and they would arrange everything from there.
    Gretchen looked bewildered but blissful. Dorabella was hugging her. I was loath to let my mother go.
    She was saying: “No … no news of Jowan yet?”
    “No,” I replied.
    “It will come,” she said brightly.
    “I pray so.”
    “Darling,” said my mother, “we are all with you. Let us know if there is any news … at once. Things are changing. I’m sure we’re going to get some good news soon.”
    I smiled wanly. With the enemy on our doorstep? With the country on the alert for invasion? With the might of Germany facing us across a strip of water?
    Still, I had to remember that Edward was home. Edward was safe.
    “Please God,” I prayed, “let Jowan come back to me.”
    Gretchen left that day and the waiting went on. I lifted my face to the clear blue sky and felt a vague annoyance because the world was so beautiful at this time. It was as though we were being told: this is how it could have been but for the folly of men.
    Each day I waited. Where was Jowan? Had he been one of the men who had died before he could be rescued? Was he with the remains of the army who had been left behind?
    Edward was not badly wounded. He had some shrapnel lodged in his right arm which had to be taken out. Then, after a brief leave which he and Gretchen could spend together, he would join his regiment in the West Country.
    If this proved to be so, my mother said, it would be better for Gretchen to rejoin us so she would be nearer to him. She was sure her stay with us had done her good.
    Lucky Gretchen! Lucky Edward! And still there was no news of Jowan.
    How the days dragged on! Each morning when I awoke after a generally restless night, tormented by dreams which reflected my daytime fears, I wondered what the day held. Events were moving rapidly, but I was obsessed by one thing. Where was Jowan? What if I should never know! How could fate be so cruel as to show me what happiness I might have had and then snatch it away from me!
    The French were fast collapsing; the myth of the impassable Maginot Line was destroyed; Marshal Pétain had asked for an armistice; we stood alone.
    I was beginning to fear that Jowan would never return.
    The position was grim. The Germans had control of the Channel ports and the Battle of Britain had started. We were in constant danger, not knowing from one moment to the next whether this would be our last.
    Dorabella and I came down to breakfast one morning, finding Gordon drinking a cup of coffee before leaving.
    “I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “There is a possibility of enemy agents coming into the country disguised as refugees. Small boats are still getting across the Channel. We have to watch. The idea is that when these boats come in, we will examine everyone in them before they are allowed to land. It is tricky because they will, in the main, be genuine refugees, but there will no doubt be people who would do a great deal to get through. We are setting up a watch along the coast. The most likely spots will be farther east, of course, as the distance is so much shorter there. But some might try Cornwall in spite of that because it would be easier to be undetected. Anyway, we have to be prepared.”
    “This gets more and more fantastic,” said Dorabella.
    Gordon gave her a slightly exasperated look.
    “Fantastic indeed,” he said. “And more than that. We are in acute danger, you know. We have to be prepared night and