‘Right you are,’ said Annie. ‘No problem.’

Emily couldn’t settle to anything. She wandered downstairs and into the living room. It was a sunny morning and across the river the Dolphin stood out brightly from its setting in the riverside slums. Peregrine would be there, and all the important people in the Dolphin, trying to reach a conclusion on the immediate future.

I hope they decide against carrying on, she thought. It would be horrible. And, remembering a half-hearted remark of Peregrine’s to the effect that Gaston would be good: It wouldn’t be the same, I hope they won’t do it.

She tried to think of a revival. There was Peregrine’s own play about the Dark Lady and the delicate little Hamnet and his glove. The original glove was now in the Victoria and Albert Museum. They had discussed a revival, and it seemed to fill the bill. The child they had used in the original production had been, as far as she recollected, an odious little monster, but William would play him well. In her mind she began to cast it from the present company, leaving herself out.

It being Sunday, there was very little traffic in their part of the world. The boys decided to walk to the main street. They set out and almost at once a cruising taxi came their way. Crispin held up his first finger as his father always did and Robin pranced, waved his arms and imitated a seagull’s cry. In no time they were in Lambeth and the taxi stopped in a narrow lane off Stangate Street in front of a tidy little house.

‘Will you wait for us, please,’ said Crispin to the driver. ‘You wait in the car, Rob.’ He went up the flight of three steps to the front door. Before he could ring the door opened and William came out.

‘I’m Crispin Jay,’ said Crispin. ‘That’s Robin in the cab.’

‘I’m William Smith. Hullo. Hullo, Robin.’

‘Hullo,’ Robin muttered.

‘Get in, William,’ Crispin said. And to the driver: ‘Back to Bankside, please.’

They set off. Robin said he bet he knew all the streets they would go through before they got to Bankside. Crispin said he wouldn’t and won. William laughed infectiously and got a number of the early ones right. ‘I walk down them every day when I go to school,’ he said, ‘so it’s not fair.’

‘I go to the Blue Caps,’ said Robin. ‘When I’m the right age I’ll go to Winchester if I pass the entrance exam.’

‘I went to the Blue Caps when I was six but only for a term. I wanted to be an actor so I got a scholarship to the Royal Southwark Theatre School. It’s a special school for actors.’

‘Do you like it?’

‘Yes,’ said William. ‘I do like it, very much.’

‘Do you like being in the play?’

‘Gosh, yes.’