England
EnglandEnglandJune 1946
June 1946June 1946Margaret Harrow held the tin of sugar against her chest, watching Marcus and Leonie from the kitchen window overlooking the back gardens of Cunningham House. As they walked past, their hands were linked, faces bright with laughter in a way that made the housekeeper miss her youth with a surprising ache. Just because she was no longer in the bloom of her youth didn’t mean she didn’t remember how it felt to be young.
Marcus and his bride had their whole lives ahead of them now, with no more shadows of war. Margaret had been so afraid that the little boy she had taken under her wing would have been damaged the way so many young lads had been from the last war. But not Marcus. He seemed at peace. As though having gone to war and returned hom
