Alfie was the first to return, carrying two lolly ices. ‘I thought you weren’t going to let her dictate to you about what you should have.’ Molly had a twinkle in her eye. ‘What happened? Scare you off, did she?’

‘Not a bit of it,’ he lied. ‘If you must know, I thought the popcorn looked a bit off.’ All the same, he, too, had a twinkle in his eye. ‘She’s even worse, face on,’ he confessed. ‘Gave me the willies, she did, creeping up on me like that.’ And before she came rushing back again, ice-cream tub in hand, they had a good chuckle about it.

Behind them, the woman settled down and opened her tub, spooning out the vanilla ice-cream with a little wooden scoop. She slapped her lips, sucking and licking and, according to Alfie, making more noise than a pig at the trough.

Before the picture started up again, she made a great fuss of getting out of her seat. In fact, she trod on so many toes, she left a trail of devastation behind her.

Unfortunately for Molly and Alfie, she paused behind them and issued a stern warning. ‘Holding hands and canoodling, indeed! Goodness only knows why they let hooligans like you into the pictures at all… spoiling it for other, respectable folk!’ With that she gave Alfie another hearty clip round the ear. ‘I shall report the pair of you to the manager on my way out, you see if I don’t!’ And off she stomped to cause more mischief at the desk.

A few minutes later, the manager came down to the end of their row. ‘I shall have to ask you to leave,’ he said as quietly as he could. ‘There’s been a complaint.’

Alfie was immediately up in arms. ‘What complaint?’ The light quickly dawned. ‘Oh, no! Not that old biddy. Surely to God you’re not taking any notice of her, are you?’

The manager was outraged. ‘Mrs Baker is a valued client,’ he retorted in a normal voice. ‘She’s been most offended by your behaviour.’

People were beginning to listen, distracted from the film by all this carry-on.

‘And we’ve been offended by hers, so I suggest you ban her from the picture-house, because if you ask me, she’s a born trouble-maker!’

‘Are you telling me how to run my premises, young man?’

‘Well, somebody ought to tell you. Throwing innocent people out, who’ve paid good money, and all on the word of a cranky old woman.’

The manager squared his narrow shoulders. ‘That’s enough. I want you out NOW!’ Raising his voice as loud as he dare while the picture was rolling, he threatened, ‘If you refuse, I’ll have to call a Bobby.’

Things were getting out of hand. Molly swiftly intervened. ‘We’ll leave quietly,’ she said. ‘But my boyfriend’s right. The woman is a trouble-maker.’

‘Nonsense. She’s a poor old thing.’

Unbeknown to them, Alfie and Molly had not been the only ones to feel the length of that ‘poor old thing’s’ tongue. ‘Miserable old faggot. Good shuts to her,’ said the man who had sat next to her during the film. ‘She’s done nothing but fart and groan and cram snuff up her nose. What’s more, she stinks to high heaven… hasn’t had a bath in a month of Sundays, if you ask me.’