As Ruby Smith stared out of her bedroom window the first light of a pale sun gilded the distant hills and the scent of wallflowers was in the air. It was the pre-dawn of a day when the breath of spring hung in the air, tenuous and tantalizing, the merest hint of a new season. While in the far distance the Hambleton hills appeared bleak against a wind-driven sky, beneath the hard crust of earth new life was stirring. It had been a long, cold winter, but life had come full circle. It was Friday, 27 March and spring had returned once more to Ragley village.

However, the wonder of the seasons was far from the mind of the teenage Ruby. She recognized the pain.

‘Mam … Mam!’ she shouted in anguish. ‘Baby’s comin’.’

After getting off the bus Lily felt refreshed on this spring morning. In the hedgerows the sharp buds of hawthorn guarded the arrowheads of daffodils and on Ragley High Street the primroses splashed the grassy banks with colour.

It was the end of a busy week and a student teacher was due to arrive today for her preliminary visit prior to her teaching practice in the summer. Lily thought back to her days as a student in training and vowed she would do her best to mentor the newcomer.

She walked across the road to look at the poster on the noticeboard outside the village hall. Tom had asked her to accompany him to the Annual Spring Dance tomorrow evening. This year it was one of the events to raise funds to replace the railings on the school wall, plus contributing to a shelter for the bus stop. The villagers of Ragley were keen to support. Removing the railings had been a symbolic gesture towards the war effort and everyone was keen to move on and return the image of the school to its pre-war days.

The poster read:

Ragley Village Hall Committee

ANNUAL SPRING DANCE

Saturday, 28th March 1953

7.30 p.m.

Admission: One shilling

Lily felt comfortable and smart in her new cardigan suit. Her mother had made it for her and the pleated skirt, now only twelve inches from the ground, was the height of fashion. With her last salary she had bought a pair of Brevitt Casuals, slip-on shoes with a cushioned soft tread and perfect for a busy day in school. It was enough to turn heads as she walked up the High Street towards school.

At 7 School View Ronnie Smith had never got out of bed so quickly. Agnes was in no mood to take prisoners. She wanted action … and she wanted it fast.

‘Ronnie, move y’self and go t’Doctor Davenport!’ she shouted. ‘Tell ’im t’baby’s on its way an’ ah’m ’ere but ah need some ’elp.’

Ronnie dragged on his clothes and ran out of the front door and up the Morton road as if the hounds of hell were chasing him.