But he said he didn’t call out, I thought, and could hear Jack shouting over the din of the anti-aircraft guns, the drone of the planes, “There’s someone under here.”

Mrs Lucy came back to the table. “I’ve applied for reinforcements for the post,” she said, standing her papers on end and tamping them into an even stack. “Someone from the Town Hall will be coming to inspect in the next few days.” She picked up two bottles of ale and an ashtray and carried them over to the dustbin.

“Applied for reinforcements?” Swales asked. “Why? Afraid Colonel Godalming’ll be back with the heavy artillery?”

There was a loud banging on the door.

“Oi siy,” Swales said. “Here he is now, and he’s brought his hounds.”

Mrs Lucy opened the door. “Worse,” Vi whispered, diving for the last bottle of ale. “It’s Nelson.” She passed the bottle to me under the table, and I passed it to Renfield, who tucked it under his blanket.

“Mr Nelson,” Mrs Lucy said as if she were delighted to see him, “do come in. And how are things over your way?”

“We took a beating last night,” he said, glaring at us as though we were responsible.

“He’s had a complaint from the colonel,” Swales whispered to me. “You’re done for, mate.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Mrs Lucy said. “Now, how may I help you?”

He pulled a folded paper from the pocket of his uniform and carefully opened it out. “This was forwarded to me from the city engineer,” he said. “All requests for material improvements are to be sent to the district warden, not over his head to the Town Hall.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” Mrs Lucy said, leading him into the pantry. “It is such a comfort to deal with someone one knows, rather than a faceless bureaucracy. If I had realized you were the proper person to appeal to, I should have contacted you immediately .” She shut the door.