So that’s how it was arranged. Each night, Joe and Paddywack would pack up the tent, take down the banner and walk up the drive to Fairlawns. They had a spare room there, often used for visiting relatives – Joe had slept in it once or twice before, when Marion had been very poorly. A warm bath and a warm bed each night revived Joe’s strength, and his spirits too. He would fall asleep almost at once, Paddywack stretched out beside him. Every night Joe felt so tired that he wanted to sleep for ever. When he woke each morning he would lie there for a while dreading the thought of another long day of cold ahead of him. But Paddywack would be standing by the door, waiting for him, tail wagging. Joe knew well enough what Paddywack was telling him. “Up you get, lazybones. We’ve got to be out there.” So he’d drag himself out of bed and do what he was told. He’d pull on his clothes, get out there, pitch the tent, put up the banner, and settle down for another day of waving at supporters, of brewing tea, of counting cars.

But every day seemed an eternity now to Joe, colder and more uncomfortable than the one before. It was becoming clearer with every passing hour that not so many cars were hooting now, that the novelty of the protest was wearing thin. He began to lose heart. He was looking grey and drawn. Mrs Bellamy was worried about him. She brought Doctor Morrison down to see him. The doctor did his very best to persuade Joe to call a halt to the whole thing. No one was paying attention any more, he told him. There was just no point in going on.

It was while the doctor was down there with him that Paddywack suddenly stood up and trotted away up the drive, his tail wagging. Then Joe saw what Paddywack had seen. Miss Carter was coming down the drive in her motorised wheelchair. She was not alone. Mrs Bellamy counted them, they were all there, every one of them – even Bob Larkin who had got up from his sickbed. Out of Fairlawns they came, some walking arms linked, some on Zimmer frames, others in wheelchairs pushed by staff, a slow procession making its way down towards them. Paddywack was gambolling among them, barking with excitement.

“What’s going on, Miss Carter?” Mrs Bellamy demanded.

“We’ve been talking,” Miss Carter replied, “and we have all of us decided that from now on our place is down here alongside Joe and Paddywack. After all, Joe and Paddywack are doing this for us, for all of us at Fairlawns, and we can’t just pop out for a few minutes to be with them. We have to be here like he is, all the time. We can’t play at this any longer. And do you know who gave us this idea? It was Paddywack. He used to come inside with us, in the warm where he liked it, where we like it too. But then he stopped coming, didn’t he? He decided that he had to be out here with Joe, whatever the weather. Well, so have we. What we’d like to ask you to do, Mrs Bellamy, if you wouldn’t mind, is to bring out those wicker chairs from the conservatory for us, and maybe a cushion or two, and lots of blankets. We’ll be fine.” Mrs Bellamy was bursting to protest. “It’s no use,” Miss Carter went on. “We took a vote, didn’t we? It was unanimous. We’re going to come out here and sit with Joe and Paddywack, all day and every day, for as long as it takes, until the Council change their minds.”