Unknown to Lily and Vera, John Pruett had been attending Edith Fortesque’s Ballroom Dancing Class in Easington and had been practising a wide range of dances. Lily agreed to be his partner for the valeta, which was a demanding ballroom dance in triple time. However, John’s feet skipped across the floor with effortless ease.

‘That was wonderful, John,’ said a breathless Lily, and he glowed with pleasure. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for – a chance to engage his beautiful colleague in stimulating conversation.

‘Valeta is the Spanish for weather vane,’ he said, which seemed a little incongruous to Lily.

‘That’s interesting,’ she said without conviction. ‘Thanks for the dance, John,’ and wandered off back to Tom.

After a while Tommy Piercy took his seat at the piano and took out a packet of Player’s Navy Cut Medium cigarettes. He stared affectionately at the picture of the bearded sailor on the front of the packet and recalled his own days in the Royal Navy. It was a change from his pipe, and he lit a cigarette, puffed contentedly and opened the piano lid. Soon everyone was enjoying a selection of their favourite wartime songs, including ‘The Lambeth Walk’, ‘White Cliffs of Dover’, ‘We’ll Meet Again’ and ‘Don’t Dilly Dally on the Way’.

Lily watched Tom singing along with gusto and wondered if anyone noticed when she didn’t join in.

To Vera’s surprise, Ronnie Smith made an appearance at the dance. Vera had visited Ruby during the afternoon and delivered a bunch of flowers and a knitted cardigan for baby Racquel. Ruby had been so grateful, and there were tears in her eyes at the acts of kindness from friends and neighbours.

Vera marched up to Ronnie, who had just ordered a pint from Mavis behind the bar. ‘How is Ruby?’ she asked.

‘Fine thanks, Miss Evans,’ replied Ronnie, unconcerned. ‘Jus’ restin’.’

‘I’m a little surprised you’re here, Ronald. Is there someone with Ruby?’

‘’Er mother,’ said Ronnie and he supped deeply on his pint. ‘So ah’m wettin’ t’baby’s ’ead like ah did wi’ Andy,’ and he walked away, sat down next to Thelma and offered her a cigarette.

Herbert Grinchley leaned over to Alfie Kershaw and nodded towards Ronnie. ‘’E ought t’be careful wi’ ’er.’

‘Y’reight there, ’Erbert,’ said Alfie. ‘She knows all there is t’know in t’bedroom department does that one, so ah’ve ’eard.’

Towards the end of the evening Lily saw Anne looking a little distressed and walking out of the front door towards the High Street. She followed and saw Anne stubbing out a cigarette with a grimace. When she noticed Lily she gave a wan smile. ‘I hate cigarettes.’

‘Then why smoke them?’ asked Lily.

‘Because my John buys them for me. All his favourite film stars smoke.’

‘Just tell him you don’t like them.’

Anne looked a little forlorn. ‘It’s difficult.’

‘Why?’