Outside the station he parked the car and glanced at the clock above the entrance to the concourse. Tess’s train was not due for another half-hour, so Jonty went to the Gents where a glance in the mirror above the handbasins confirmed his worst fears: the pleasant summery wind had dried out his carefully smoothed hair, which now stood on end as though he had suffered a bad shock. Jonty wet his hands under the tap and applied both palms to his sandy mop until it agreed to lie down once more. Then he went to the refreshment room, bought a cup of coffee and sat down to wait.

Tess sat in the corner seat which she had managed to acquire after her last change and glanced out at the passing scene, reflecting that Norfolk looked the same as ever. Who had said Very flat, Norfolk? She rather suspected it was Noël Coward, and though as a lover of the county she naturally resented the remark, she was forced to admit that there was some truth in it. Later on, when they were nearing Norwich and were crossing the Halvergate marshes, one could see miles and miles of level, watery countryside, the view only broken here and there by a farm or cottage.

Because telephone calls were expensive and had to be carefully planned, she and Jonty had mainly kept in touch by letter and Tess had to admit that because of the pressure of schoolwork and her various jobs – she had cleaned offices, served in small shops, become a Saturday waitress at a big Lyons restaurant and worked as a holiday relief on the Irish ferry – her letters to her friend had been scrappy affairs. As for his to her, ‘few and far between’ would be putting it mildly. But none of that mattered now; she was on her way to see Jonty and the Bells, the four horses and Crippen the boar, and would spend two whole weeks in their company.

Mrs Bell had invited her before, but Tess had been firm, assuring her would-be hostess that she dared not leave her studies until the exams were over. But now she was the possessor of her School Certificate and would start studying for her Higher when school reopened in September. When Jonty had passed his School Certificate two years before she had suggested that he might take his Higher and then go on to university, which was what she intended to do, but in his reply to her letter he had not attempted to hide his horror. I’ve had enough of being taught, he had written in his round, rather childish handwriting. I’ve told you before, Tess, that since I’m going to farm there’s no point in all this education stuff. Ma and Pa insisted that I should take my School Cert, and now that I’ve got it I’m glad I did, but that doesn’t mean I intend to shut myself up in a classroom for another two years. Besides, most universities want Latin and I never did it. So though I’m longing to see you and talk over old times, just don’t you mention education, or I’ll punch you on the nose.