‘I really ought to go round to Mr Payne’s and thank him again . . .’ Jonty began, but at this Tess’s patience snapped.

‘You’ve said you’re grateful a dozen times to my knowledge,’ she said crossly. ‘Do get a move on, Jonty. If you miss this train you won’t be home till midnight. And I shan’t wait with you, so there.’

Heyworth Street was crowded, for there were always people who left everything until the last minute – apparently Jonty was one of them – and at three o’clock on Christmas Eve prices tended to drop, so shoppers were many. Tess was carrying Jonty’s lightest bag whilst he struggled along with his suitcase, and she reflected sourly that though she was now certain she loved Jonty she was more and more sure that he did not love her. Earlier, she had led him by stalls sporting bunches of mistletoe; she had turned up her face hopefully when he went off to sleep at the tobacconist’s, thinking he was sure to give her a goodnight kiss; she had snuggled up to him in the cinema, but apart from looking a little red around the gills he had not seemed to notice such overtures.

They reached the station. A train was just pulling in and the porter was shouting. ‘That’ll be yours, Jonty,’ Tess said, ‘so we’d best say our goodbyes now. She moved closer to him, whereupon Jonty took a step backwards.

‘Tess, I – I’ve been meaning to ask you . . .’ he began, but Tess had had enough of shilly-shallying. She snatched his big case away from him and slammed it down on the platform. Then she flung both her arms round him and cuddled her cheek into the hollow of his neck. Jonty made an inarticulate sound and suddenly he was clutching and kissing her, mumbling into her ear that he loved her more than anyone else he had known in all of his life. Then he pulled back from her a little. ‘I’ve longed and longed to do that, oh, for weeks . . . months . . . years!’ he said. ‘But I’m an awkward sort of chap, wouldn’t know a fancy speech if it bit me on the nose. And that Snowy, he’s smooth as ice and handsome as a film star. Oh, Tess, can you possibly love me as much as you love him?’

Tess threw her arms about him again, but just then the engine’s whistle sounded and she bundled Jonty’s various possessions on to the train. ‘As much? I love you far more; I don’t believe I ever did love Snowy,’ she assured him just as the porter came along the train, slamming the doors and warning the passengers to stand clear. Tess held on to the nearest door handle and pushed Jonty aboard. The porter waved his green flag, the engine whistled . . . and Jonty grabbed Tess round the waist and pulled her into the carriage just as the train began to move, whilst the porter yelled at them and other passengers stared.