‘You’re right, it does,’ says Naomi. ‘I wonder where it’s going to take us?’

‘Back to the 1950s,’ quips Danny as he smooths a hand over his quiff, which is set rock-hard with sugar and water.

Danny has gone full Teddy Boy, in a dark suit with drainpipe trousers. Naomi is resplendent in a canary-yellow tea dress, cinched at her tiny waist, with a full skirt and netted petticoats. They look like two exotic birds, cooing and chattering in the darkness, as they hold Ellie’s hands and swing her between them.

Meanwhile I’ve taken my inspiration from an old photograph that I found of my mum, the one where I think she looks like Audrey Hepburn, and have worn my hair up in a French pleat, with red lips, black eyeliner and pearl-button earrings. I’m wearing an original fifties swing coat and a black satin dress that I found in one of the vintage shops in town. The owner informed me it was called a ‘wiggle dress’, as that’s how the pencil skirt makes you walk. I mentioned that it wasn’t the walking I was worried about so much; it was the dancing, but she assured me that’s what the split up the back was for.

Plus the dress looked and felt fabulous, and after a lifetime spent putting practicality first, I took a leaf out of Harry’s guide to life and put fun first. One thing’s for sure: it won’t be long before I find out what it’s like to dance in it, as the first person I see when we walk inside is Valentine.

‘You’re early!’

‘Well, I didn’t want to keep my date waiting.’ He beams, taking my coat and handing it to one of the volunteer cloakroom assistants. ‘And don’t you look grand!’

‘So do you. Love the suit. Very sharp. Is it vintage?’

‘Aye, like its owner,’ he laughs and holds out his elbow for me to take.

I smile gratefully. He knows how nervous I am about tonight and, slipping my arm through his, we walk inside.

We’re early, but there are quite a few people here already, mingling around on the edges of the dance floor, which are lined with chairs, just like they used to be in traditional dance halls. A small pop-up bar is serving beers and Babycham and Cherry B, a cherry-flavoured drink that comes in little bottles and was all the rage in the 1950s. That’s according to quite a few of the elderly villagers who, on discovering news of the dance, were more than happy to help with the research. Margaret, who lives in one of the new retirement flats, has even donated several bottles of Advocaat and is on hand to make Snowballs.

‘The place looks wonderful.’

‘Isn’t it amazing!’

‘What a transformation!’

As we make our way across the dance floor I catch snippets of conversation and people’s eyes, and am greeted with nods and smiles and waves of hello as they come over to offer their congratulations on tonight and the opening of the village hall. Though really we all end up congratulating each other, as it’s been such a team effort.