As the smell of cooking and the warmth of the old range filled the house, her spirits were lifted. If they hadn’t been she would have shunned company, but as it was she felt in need of eating cake and drinking tea with a worthwhile companion. In that regard her satisfaction was complete when Barbara Kelly, wife of one of Michael’s fellow air force officers, came to call. Once their babies were fed and sound asleep, they had time for girl talk. Her pale blonde hair caught behind a girlish Alice band, Barbara was the most smartly groomed woman on the base, though she did like her food. She watched as Mary took a freshly baked loaf from the oven, the warm air rolling out with it and warming her feet. ‘It smells lovely!’ ‘I’ve also made crumb cake.’ Barbara called at Woodbridge Cottage at least once a week, a sixth sense seeming to always pick the day when Mary was baking. Once whatever came out of the oven had cooled, Barbara would be offered a piece with a cup of tea. Barbara leaned to one side so she could better see the crumb cake.
