‘If I did⁠ —’ Benny munched her sandwich, ‘⁠ — they would send it back with a note saying that it does not suit their present needs, and there would be a PS asking what it was actually of.’

‘Oh, you sell yourself short, Miss Summerfield. I had a lady friend once who was an art lover, and she taught me some of the basics.’

‘Really?’ Benny arched an eyebrow. ‘So do you think it’s actually any good?’

‘Absolutely topping. Sorry to intrude, by the way. I just popped over because I was bored. There’s nothing to do at the museum, young Alec’s sitting at the desk, and he’s bored too, but I employ him to be bored so that I don’t have to be. I wondered if I might watch you paint?’

‘It’s not exactly a spectator sport, but do come in. It is your garden.’

‘Like a malevolent spirit, I can only enter where I am invited.’ Alexander opened the garden gate and settled into a deckchair. ‘Besides, that’s the reason I started to rent the cottage when my sister died. I like meeting new people. Especially those down from Cambridge.’

Benny bit her lip. So far she’d managed to avoid the topic of her supposed studies at Newnham College. ‘I’m afraid that I’ve never been to your old college.’

‘King’s, it was. They rather disapprove of you roving about, don’t they?’

‘Rather. Oh, listen, I met a woman on the run from the police today…’ And she told the story of her encounter with Constance.

Alexander humphed. ‘Damn Liberals! Pardon my French, loved one, but it’s really going too far when you’re in and out of prison like billyoh. I don’t know why Asquith doesn’t just give them the vote, well, for householders, anyway. What do you think?’

‘I think that grown-ups should vote, full stop.’

‘Good for you. You ought to meet my chum Richard Hadleman. He’s chairman of the local Labour group. Young firebrand, just in his twenties. It’ll be chaps like him that’ll lead us into the next decade.’

‘Probably.’ Bernice turned back to her painting, not wanting Alexander to see her face.

A great commotion arose from behind the cottage, and the gates of the level crossing were raised. A moment later, plumes of smoke rose from a tank engine as it chuffed past, the warm smell of its boiler drifting through the garden and mingling with the roses. Alexander glanced at his watch. ‘Dead on two. The world may be changing, but at least the trains still run on time.’

The scream caused some of the younger boys to look up for a moment.