Elizabeth glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “I’ll try to catch the major before he leaves for the base. They all came back late last night, and I didn’t like to ask him then.”

“I know, I heard them. Them bloody water pipes were making such a racket I wonder they didn’t wake the dead. No wonder poor old Martin thought he saw a ghost.”

“I suppose we really should get them seen to, now that Major Monroe’s men are using the east wing bathroom. I didn’t think anyone would be using it again after Mummy and Daddy died.”

“Maybe your major could ask one of his men to take a look at the pipes.”

“He’s not-” Elizabeth began, but Violet interrupted her.

“I know, he’s not your major. Ask him anyway. Here’s your porridge. Eat it while it’s hot.” She dumped a steaming plate of creamed oatmeal in front of Elizabeth.

“I’m sure the American officers have enough to do defending our skies against German bombers.” Elizabeth picked up her spoon. “We’ll have to find someone ourselves.”

“Then you’ll have to go into North Horsham to find a plumber. There are precious few men left in Sitting Marsh, and not one of them would know how to fix a water pipe.”

Violet was right, Elizabeth thought gloomily. Most of the men in the village had been called up or had volunteered for the forces, and those who were left were either too old or too busy with their own businesses to help out with anything short of an emergency.

Her gaze wandered to the newspaper headlines again. The only constabulary left in Sitting Marsh were two elderly men dragged out of retirement to replace those who had joined up to fight for their country. George and Sid did their best, but apprehending a desperate enemy pilot went far beyond their meager capabilities. She could only hope the army routed out the man quickly, before panic spread among the villagers.