Tessa knew the mobile cinema was highly prized by all the villages upon which it called. The films were usually old but no less popular for that, and were on two large reels, so that when the first reel came to an end there was an interval whilst the second reel was fitted into position, during which entertainment was provided. Tess would have preferred to chat, for she and Jonty had managed to occupy seats amongst most of their old friends, but then Mr Lyons, the projectionist, who also chose the films, called for silence and his sister, a very large lady indeed, came on to the stage and stood leaning against the piano which another member of the Lyons family played. The talk faded to quiet whispers and Miss Lyons announced that she would sing an old favourite. The pianist struck up, Miss Lyons opened a cavernous mouth and one of the village boys commented to his neighbour that they’d be lucky if Miss Lyons’s weight did not cause the piano to career across the stage and crash into the audience. For some reason this remark caught the fancy of those who heard it, some of whom began to snigger. As is the way of such things the sniggerers’ neighbours began to laugh, quietly at first but then more and more loudly, until the whole hall was helpless with mirth. In vain did the pianist jump to his feet and demand silence, in vain did Mr Lyons threaten that they should never see the second reel. Had it not been for old Mr Larkin clambering on to the stage to call everyone to order as Miss Lyons fled from it in tears, it is doubtful whether the Lyons Mobile Cinema would ever have visited the village hall again. As it was, practically every member of the audience apologised, begged pardon and explained that the laughter had not been caused by Miss Lyons’s singing and was simply a sort of mass hysteria in which one person’s mirth – prompted by something completely unrelated to what was going on on the stage, naturally – had set the entire audience giggling. The adult members of the audience put their heads together and had a whip-round and old Mrs Bailey, who ran the village shop, produced from some hidden corner a box of chocolates which, judging from the picture on the lid, was probably pre-war stock, but, as Jonty pointed out, it was the gesture which counted. Miss Fletcher presented the chocolates to Miss Lyons, along with many apologies, and the audience settled back to enjoy the second reel of Jungle Woman.

At the end of the film the audience got to their feet, and Jonty grabbed Tess’s hand. ‘The last bus has gone, and Dad won’t realise that the interval was about three times as long as usual,’ he reminded her. ‘I don’t much fancy a five-mile walk; what’ll we do if he’s gone home without us?’

Tess stared at him, eyes rounding with dismay. They had had little sleep the night before, followed by an exhausting day, and the thought of having to walk five miles, possibly in the rain if the weather had not improved, was not a pleasant one. But Jonty, seeing her dismay, gave a crow of triumph. ‘Gotcha!’ he said. ‘You can’t believe my dad would let us down! He’d soon realise that the picture was taking longer than it should have done and he’d wait, even if we were an hour over our time.’