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Elizabeth laughed. ‘No, don’t know a soul, I’ve never been to Ireland before either.

But what is there here for me? A poky bedsitter in Richmond, and the choice of joining the Land Army, nursing or a factory making bombs as work.

We’ve got food rationing already. Who can say what other horrors the government has in store for us? ’

Mary could identify with that; she’d often sat in her room up in the attic in Hampstead and wondered if happiness was ever going to come her way.

In the last few days of bombing, she’d even considered catching the first bus that came along out of London, and staying on it until the end of the route.

She thought of it as a kind of Russian roulette.

She could end up somewhere lovely, find a new job she liked, and perhaps even love.

Or it might be an awful place, and she’d be forced to take the next bus back to Hampstead.

‘Just lately I had been imagining running away,’ Mary giggled, because that sounded so silly. Not even a proper plan. ‘I don’t think I can cope with Mr and Mrs Bradley much longer. They moan about everything; anyone would think war had been declared just to spoil their comfortable life.’

‘Come with me?’ Elizabeth said impulsively. ‘An adventure is always more fun if it’s shared.’

Mary stared at her companion in disbelief. ‘You can’t be serious! I’ve only just met you!’

That was of course true, but though Elizabeth didn’t want to admit it, she was terrified of going into the unknown alone.

But with Mary at her side, stranger or not, she knew she’d be brave and confident.

So she gave Mary a beaming smile. ‘So what! I like you, we’ve got a lot in common.

I think you need a bit of excitement and fun as much as I do.

You haven’t had much, have you? And what have we got to look forward to here?

Bombing nightly, whole streets destroyed, opening the newspaper daily to read of still more tragedy. ’

She knew it was reckless to ask someone she knew virtually nothing about to come and share her new life. But she needed a friend right now and she was pretty certain Mary did too.

Mary looked down at her now empty plate, playing for time. Elizabeth was right about her, but she didn’t want to admit to someone she’d only just met how bad her life had been. ‘There hasn’t been much fun,’ she admitted. ‘But if I came with you, what if it didn’t work out?’

‘I can’t be doing with considering “What ifs”.

Life’s too short for that,’ Elizabeth said airily.

‘But if it didn’t work out you could always find another job like the one you have now.

’ She pulled a face as if she thought that was the worst possible outcome.

‘They do say the rich are getting in a panic as their menservants have all been called up, and now the women are leaving for work in factories and on the land. Heaven forbid they might have to lift a duster or wash up a few dishes themselves.’

Mary giggled. ‘I think I’d rather work in a factory or on the land, at least I wouldn’t have a boss like Mrs Bradley on my back all the time.

But seriously, Elizabeth, I am touched that you’re impulsive enough to ask me– ninety per cent of me wants to throw caution to the wind and agree to go.

But the other ten per cent is asking if it’s sensible to do something so rash with a total stranger. ’

Elizabeth looked at her with one eyebrow raised questioningly.

‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ she asked.

‘The cottage might be awful, and miles from anywhere, plus we fall out. But it may not be like that. The cottage might be lovely, we make lots of new friends, and have a great time. Come with me and try it. If you hate it, I’ll give you your fare back to England. ’

‘I wouldn’t expect you to do that,’ Mary said with some indignation.

‘But I haven’t got my clothes and if I go to Hampstead to get them Mrs Bradley will get shirty with me about leaving without giving notice.

’ But she smiled as she said it because she suddenly realized she didn’t give a damn about the Bradleys.

‘I’ve got lots of clothes. I’ll share them with you, we’re about the same size. As for the sainted Mrs Bradley, write her a letter and say you went to see your aunt and she was so poorly you felt you must stay with her.’

The air-raid siren went off suddenly, instantly preventing further conversation. ‘Blast it,’ Elizabeth said, and jumped up. ‘We’d better get to the shelter.’

The Nippy had brought the bill and taken the cash some time ago, but it was only now that they noticed the restaurant was half empty. Had everyone been expecting a raid? Or had they gone because it was now dusk?

They grabbed their gas masks and made for the door. ‘There’s a shelter in Trafalgar Square, I noticed it on the way here,’ Elizabeth said, taking Mary’s arm and leading her towards the road. ‘Now, do you want to do this night after night, or be on the train to Rosslare tomorrow?’

Mary didn’t know where Rosslare was, but she wasn’t going to admit that. Or that going into an underground shelter with a lot of strangers was equally frightening.

Elizabeth paused on the kerb, looking across at the brick-built surface shelter in Trafalgar Square.

‘People are saying those places aren’t safe.

We could go to St Martin’s crypt, but I don’t fancy that,’ she said, then grabbing Mary’s arm, she led her towards the steps down to the Underground. ‘This will be safer. Nice and deep.’

Mary hadn’t been in any shelter other than her employers’ cellar, but she felt the Underground was the best place to be– it had lighting, and probably toilets somewhere, too.

As they went down the steps to the booking hall, there was a smell of bodily odours and more than a whiff of urine.

Mary reminded herself that the Tube had never smelled nice, and people must have been using it as a shelter since the bombing started in earnest a few days earlier.

She also remembered hearing something on the wireless that the government weren’t too keen on people using the Tube as shelters in case they never wanted to come up outside again.

They went through the booking hall, following everyone else, and down an escalator which had been turned off.

‘Let’s stay as near to the exit as possible,’ Elizabeth whispered in her ear as they went onto the nearest platform.

‘That way we can be first out when the all-clear sounds. This will do,’ she said, and plonked herself down on the ground, leaning back against an advertisement for Capstan Full Strength cigarettes on the wall.

Mary sat down beside her, looking around.

It was a strange sight, the hordes of people equipped with pillows and eiderdowns who must live locally and have come down earlier to bag a good space, and hundreds more pouring in, businessmen in smart suits, manual workers in dirty work clothes, and whole families, some of the mothers with babies either in their arms or a pushchair.

Then there were young people, all dressed up, perhaps come to the West End for the evening.

Mary had only ever seen Tube platforms full of standing people poised to push their way onto the next train. The scene before her was strange and bewildering. She was really glad she was with Elizabeth, who was so calm and knowledgeable.

‘Give me your bag.’ Elizabeth grabbed Mary’s small brown handbag and stuffed it down between their hips.

She then did the same with her own, which was much larger.

‘I’m told a lot of thieves come in the shelters looking for rich pickings.

I’ve got money, my train and ferry tickets, plus important documents in mine. If it was taken, I’d be stranded.’

Elizabeth’s words sent a shudder down Mary’s spine. She only had a one pound note and some loose change and it was all she had in the world. ‘What do we do if we want a drink or to spend a penny?’ she asked.

‘I’ve heard people use the tunnel as toilets,’ Elizabeth winced.

‘I’m not going down there, that’s for sure.

As for drinks, I haven’t a clue. But some of the people down here seem to have all the comforts of home.

’ She inclined her head to their right, where two middle-aged women sat on folding chairs, both knitting.

In front of their feet was a wicker basket with a Thermos flask and what looked like packets of sandwiches and a box of cakes.

They each had a blanket and a small cushion.

‘How likely is it that bombs will drop around here?’ Mary asked nervously.

Last night she and the Bradleys had gone back into the house to their beds at midnight because there had been no bombs dropping nearby.

But she had been told they were supposed to stay in their shelters until the all-clear sounded.

Elizabeth shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea, I’ve been living in a basement flat, so I just stayed in there.

To be honest I didn’t hear much overnight, only distant rumblings.

Last night I went out into the street about one in the morning and the sky was very red in the east, so I knew it was bad there, but it was quiet in Richmond.

The West End hasn’t copped any bombs yet, so we’ll be fine.

So let’s try to enjoy our first time in a public shelter.

I’m hoping before the night is out you will tell me you’ve decided to come with me tomorrow. ’

Mary was impressed by her new friend’s positive attitude– she ought to try and be more like her.