Glancing at the address on the postcard, Audrey checked she was on the right street. Then she put the postcard back in her bag and counted down the house numbers until she stood outside number 65.
It was a warm May day and she already felt grimy and tired from her journey. The train had been busy, full of soldiers and sailors coming up from the coast. Then, once she’d arrived at Victoria, she’d had to catch a bus across the city to the East End. But it had taken much longer than expected as it wove its way through the bomb-damaged streets. It meant she’d have less time with her mum and dad in the afternoon.
Now, looking at the shabby green door with the number 65 on it, Audrey took a deep breath and knocked.
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