Edie thought this a splendid idea, but time was short so they trotted briskly along the pavement, checked that their coach was at the stop, and continued on to the fairground. They chose to be pictured as what Edie described as ‘cowpersons’, and having paid out their money and left their addresses felt they had done all they could to persuade Janine to send a picture, and returned to the prom, where the other passengers had already started to board the coach. Albert and Edie took their places and began to chat to the bus driver, telling him what a grand day they had had, and asking him how he had spent the long and sunny hours. ‘For I remember you telling us once before that you left the coach in a big car park on the outskirts of town and came in with your mates to enjoy a go on the funfair or a couple of games of bingo,’ Albert said. ‘My friend and I took a look at the funfair but decided we’d spend our money on fish and chips instead.’ He laughed. ‘Not such fun as the big wheel, but more filling.’

The bus driver agreed rather absently and began to count heads, for though a good few of the passengers knew each other there was always the chance that someone had boarded the wrong coach, or misunderstood their time of departure, so that the driver of each of the great vehicles drawn up alongside the prom had to check his passenger list carefully against the number of seats already filled.

The time for departure came and went and they were still one passenger short. Their driver walked along the line of coaches still waiting to be filled but could not find his missing charge, and when at last he returned to the coach Albert suddenly remembered something. He stood up and leaned close to the driver. ‘Excuse me, Bob,’ he said urgently. ‘If you remember, when we were setting out this morning you said that a chap called Edwin Briars had sent one of his mates along to say he’d got one of them ’orrible bugs, and was busy throwing up, so couldn’t take his place on the coach. He had paid for his ticket and I believe you told his mate that since it was illness he could get a refund from the coach office.’

Bob struck his head with the back of his hand. ‘Wharra fool I am. Fancy me forgettin’ that,’ he said. He grinned apologetically at the seated passengers. ‘I’m sorry, folks; it seems I’ve held us up for nothin’. But never mind, I’ll put me wellie down and have us all back in the ‘Pool no more’n five minutes after we’re due.’

Having done his duty, Albert returned to his seat. Edie rummaged in her pocket and produced a bag of humbugs; they both took one and leaned against each other as the bus roared on through the deepening darkness. They were all but asleep, might have slept, in fact, save that someone at the back of the vehicle began to sing an old Vera Lynn favourite, ‘We’ll Meet Again’. Other songs followed as the coach pounded along, Bob’s voice joining in the chorus with as much enthusiasm as though he had not already had a very full day and must, like most of his customers, be longing for his bed.