The introductions were hasty, and so many new names were difficult to remember. Mrs Henderson insisted they all dispense with formality. They were to call her Enid. Suddenly she made the decision to reassert her authority and tucked her arm through that of one of the girls. The girl seemed chuffed.

The chatter bounced effervescently between the women, and the men strode ahead, unsettling the dust on the road. Sentences were started but not finished, jokes were cracked and laughter was thrown out almost before the punchlines were delivered, such was everyone’s desire to have fun. Howard felt his mother’s eyes on him the entire time. He knew she missed him and was drinking him in. He missed her too, but he was young, a man; he knew his place in the world. It was out there. Not back here. Back here was for holidays only. He’d make the most of it. She would too, because it was the only thing to be done.

Flags fluttered. Boom, a drum in the brass band was hit with gusto. Cabs, barouches and chaises brought the middle classes to watch. The working classes got there on their feet; flies on meat couldn’t keep them away. A sea of flat caps, bowler hats and wide-brimmed straw hats trimmed with feathers surged towards the jumble of tents and scattered deckchairs. The girls peeled off; it was hot and they wanted ices. Howard stood still and breathed it all in. Deeply. Laughter harmonised with the brass band and the jingle of the carousel. The grass was sweet-smelling, recently cut. It was just like it had always been when he was a boy. Donkey rides, a helter-skelter. Too much choice turned children pale and stupid when faced with the decision of how to spend their penny coins. A tent displaying flower arrangements; another with cakes. Women stood by tense and agitated, desperate to win the silk rosettes. They laughed at their grotesque shapes in the hall of mirrors, the London girls using the opportunity to fish for compliments.

‘Don’t I look a sight!’ cried Beryl. ‘Who’d want me?’

‘Nothing could make you look ugly, Beryl. Not even a mirror that stretches your neck and shrinks your legs,’ replied Jack obligingly. He slid his eyes along the floor and crossed his fingers that Howard hadn’t heard him. Howard had, but decided to pretend otherwise. He didn’t feel jealous, or even indignant. He didn’t want a quarrel. It was too hot for anything other than pleasure. Michael, ever the diplomat, suggested they make a start on the picnic.

Howard’s friends lavished compliments on his mam and she, not usually a vain woman, beamed, basking in it. He knew that half her pleasure came from making him happy. The other half from making Michael happy.

After they’d had their fill of tongue sandwiches, pickled eggs and pork pie, they queued to hook-a-duck and then to test their strength by hitting a target with a hammer and hoping to shoot a weight up to the bell. Howard made the bell ring and attracted a crowd of appreciative girls. Both his mother and Beryl noticed the admiring glances and giggles; his mother was proud, his lover peeved. She made a big show of huffing and flouncing off to buy candy floss or a toffee apple; it wasn’t a display that revealed any of the skill and subtlety of a trained actress. Her gaggle of girlfriends loyally followed her.