Reg snorted with derision. ‘Cindy, you haven’t even had a drink yet.’ He leant forward to address Maggie. ‘Not much chance of finding a decent fella in here, Maggie. You have to let us take you into town one night. You’d enjoy yourself because we know how to have a good night out.’

Maggie liked Reg. He had made a good show of not minding in the least that Maggie had joined them. ‘Let me try the local, first, eh, Reg? But I do appreciate the thought. It can’t be much fun for you, having me playing gooseberry when you thought it was just the two of you for the night – I’m very lucky to have been asked.’

Reg gasped in mock surprise. ‘Maggie, I’m the lucky one. They’ll all be asking me in the pub what aftershave I use.’ He bent his head down to Maggie and whispered, ‘On our second date, Maggie, I’m going to insist you take my other arm so that I have one of you on each side – and I’ll tell you this for nothing, I’ll be the proudest man on these streets. You see, that lot in there, they think I can’t bag a wife because Cindy refuses to marry me.’

Maggie blushed. ‘She will one day, Reg,’ she whispered back. ‘She’s a modern miss, is our Cindy, so don’t give up. You just keep trying.’

‘Let’s light up before we go in. I think you need one for your nerves, Maggie,’ said Reg as he shuffled a packet of Benson and Hedges Gold and handed one to Maggie.

Cindy flicked open the silver lighter Reg had bought for her birthday. ‘She’ll soon cheer up once she’s got a port and lemon inside her, won’t you, Maggie? And here’s my guess: tonight is going to be special, I can just feel it and I haven’t even been to Kathleen to get my tea leaves read. Two port and lemons, please, Reg, as soon as we get in; me and Maggie will go straight to the table. Let’s walk in like we’re Princess Margaret arriving for a night out and show off your lovely coat – I haven’t seen that before.’

Maggie blew her cigarette smoke high into the night air and smiled. ‘Neither had I until this afternoon – I bought it in Blacklers, treated myself, along with the make-up.’

Cindy was delighted. ‘Well, it’s smashing – I’m jealous. And your hair looks lovely, even though I say so myself.’

There was no more time for conversation or sartorial scrutiny because Reg opened the pub door and the wall of noise hit them. The throng at the bar stood three deep and the overhead lights reflected from the pile of hair that was Babs’s, her face shining with perspiration from pulling the tall mahogany pumps to serve a demanding throng of thirsty dockers.