It was the last day of the spring term and for the children a two-week Easter holiday beckoned, with thoughts of climbing trees, pond dipping and Easter eggs. After school a relaxed John Pruett and Lily met in the staff-room with Anne for a cup of tea.

‘Well done,’ said Lily when the children had gone home. Then a thought struck her. ‘By the way, there’s a dance tomorrow night in the village hall.’

By late afternoon the news of Ruby’s baby had filtered through to the local Pharmacy and Herbert Grinchley made sure it was soon all around the village.

Meanwhile, Nora Pratt was at the counter with her best friend, Shirley Makin. Fourteen-year-old Shirley was regarded as the best teenage cook in the village and both girls were excited about the Saturday night dance.

‘Y’need t’try this, girls,’ said Herbert. He held up a bottle of the new Silvikrin Cream Shampoo. ‘Ah ’eard it said Britain’s up-an’-comin’ girls are rushin’ t’buy it.’

‘Why’s that, Mr Gwinchley?’ asked Nora.

‘’Cause it gives you poise an’ confidence.’

‘Ah’d like t’be confident,’ said Shirley, who tended to hide her light under a bushel. She picked up the bottle and studied it carefully. ‘Hey, Nora, it says it gives you “sheer beauty”.’

‘’Ow much is it, Mr Gwinchley?’ asked Nora.

‘One shillin’ an’ threepence, an’ that’ll give y’three shampoos.’

Then Herbert produced a large bottle from under the counter like a magician. ‘Or y’could get double in t’big bottle for two shillings.’

‘That’s thwee shampoos each if we spend a shilling each,’ said Nora quickly. She was top in mathematics in her class.

Shirley nodded. ‘Meks sense t’me.’

On her way home Lily had called in to the General Stores and bought a tin of Ovaltine. That night before going to bed she smiled when she prepared a steaming mug. On the side of the tin it said ‘The World’s Best Nightcap’, and as she climbed the stairs she gave a secret smile and thought of Tom.

There was a watercolour painting hanging above her bed. Painted with care and precision, it showed a village scene in high summer. A beaten track led up to a white-fronted farmhouse with a riot of wisteria clambering up its walls. Two burly farm labourers were leaning against an old Ford tractor, apparently deep in conversation, while the distant fields of barley shimmered in the sunlight. Lily stroked a delicate finger down the side of the wooden frame and studied the picture carefully. It brought back memories of warm summer days in the Land Army, gathering in a bountiful harvest … and special times.

On Saturday morning, at the age of twenty, Diane Wigglesworth was thinking about her life. She and her mother were in the hairdresser’s shop waiting for their first customers.