April 1952‘What’s mine Pop doing now? Can mine go too?’
Nora glanced at her husband’s retreating back. ‘I think he has to go by himself, sweetheart. He has to water the tomatoes, or maybe he’s taking Nugget for a walk. I’m not sure. But I’m going to make scones. They’re Aunty Kath’s favourites. Would you like to help me, little Kate?’
‘Mine Pop looks funny.’
Yes, thought Nora. That’s because he’s crying. ‘He’ll be all right, you’ll see.’ He always is. ‘He’ll be back soon. Now, what else shall we make for when Aunty Kath gets home from work?’
‘Pafflova,’ answered Kate promptly. ‘That’s mine favourite and mine Pop’s too.’
‘So it is.’
Harry was gone for hours. When he put his head into the drawing room, he found his wife and his sister sitting close together, talking quietly. They both
