‘I’m not family.’

‘Just came to give them solidarity. Most people do that and-’

‘They’re heroes, aren’t they?’

‘Serving Queen and country, making the ultimate sacrifice. Heroes? Yes.’

‘The bravest of the brave. Heroes, all of them.’

Doug Bentley still couldn’t see Beryl. He didn’t know how to react to this woman’s grief. His wife wasn’t there to tell him, and he thought it was probably only five minutes now until the bus left. ‘Just take it one hour at a time, then one day at a time, then one week-’

‘They’re heroes and their families must be so proud of them.’

He saw a broad wedding ring on her hand and with it a diamond-crested engagement ring, which looked expensive. ‘Are you from an army family, Ellie? Is that why you’re here?’

She seemed to snort, as if the question invited derision. ‘Absolutely not – no heroes among my lot. His people must feel so honoured by him.’ She shrugged.

He was confused now. ‘It’s none of my business, and I don’t want to intrude, but did you come today to be with the boy’s family, show your support?’

‘No… God, no. I was filling up with petrol, at the Shell. The road was blocked and I wandered down. Seen it on the telly, of course, but it’s different when you’re… you know… I’m all right now. Thanks for your time.’

She wandered away without a backward glance, and he realised Beryl was now close behind him. Ellie’s backside swung as she walked.

They went for the bus, where already a good-sized queue waited. His wife told him he had been chatting up a bit of a tart. He said that one minute the woman had been in floods of tears and the next quite off-hand but jabbering about ‘heroes’.

Beryl followed her with an eagle eye. ‘You know next to nothing about anything, Doug,’ she said. ‘Not that I’m holding that against you.’

They walked together to the bus stop, her arm tucked in his.