His companion heaved a sigh. ‘I’d really love to run an ice cream parlour, but I expect jobs like that go to the young, and very right and proper too,’ she added. ‘Still, I can’t help wishing.’ She looked hard at him. ‘It’s a good idea, you know – you’d be the first in Liverpool. Have you investigated any likely premises?’

‘One or two,’ Albert said truthfully. ‘But I’ve found nothing suitable so far. I can’t afford a large rent, but cheaper places either don’t have a water supply or aren’t connected to the electric. With ice creams you need efficient refrigeration, so I suppose I shall have to abandon my dream.’ That made him sound a much more interesting person than he really was, Albert thought, but why not? He and this Mrs Williams were, after all, ships that pass in the night. He could tell her anything, any number of lies – not that he would, of course – and she would think him one hell of a fellow, as his daughter would have said. But the time had come to ask some questions on his own account. ‘But how about you?’ he asked. ‘Do you have a job?’

At this point the bus emerged from the tunnel and the bus driver began to address his passengers, telling them that they would stop in about forty minutes at a café with a big car park, where they might make use of the facilities and have a cup of coffee or tea if they wished. Mr Payne and Mrs Williams smiled at one another. ‘I shall invite you to share a pot of tea with me, Mrs Williams,’ Albert said grandly. ‘I might even run to a scone . . . but you’ve not answered my question. Are you a working woman?’

His companion pulled a face. ‘I certainly am. I was widowed in the early thirties and worked until the war began as an accounts clerk, but now I work at Deering’s.’

She obviously thought that Albert would know Deering’s, but on the spur of the moment he could not call it to mind so merely remarked that no doubt she would enjoy the coach trip all the more because she was not free every day. Mrs Williams nodded her agreement and they began to talk of other things.

The rest of the journey passed very pleasantly. Mrs Williams told Albert that she had intended to bring a packed lunch, but because she had overslept she had not made herself so much as one sandwich and would have to buy a meal at one of the many cafes in town.

‘I’m the same,’ Albert admitted ruefully. ‘Louisa and I always made sandwiches and brought a flask of tea, and during the war Janine and I did the same, but today I made up my mind to treat myself. I know several cafés – or I used to know them before the war – and there’s one on the front called the Seagull. They used to do an excellent ham salad, and charge half a crown for three courses, bread and butter and a cup of tea. Will you join me?’