Deirdre Coe was further up the High Street in the public telephone box. She was coming to the end of a brief conversation with her rich cousin Donald in Richmond. Donald was determined: he had no intention of loaning even more money to her brother, the infamous Stan, regarded by Donald as the black sheep of the family. Stan had persuaded Deirdre to telephone him on the assumption he would be in a good mood on this special day.

‘The pips are going, Donald,’ shouted Deirdre. ‘Ah’ll ’ave t’put some more coins in but ah’ve no change left.’ The telephone went dead with a buzz like an insect and the call ended.

‘Oh ’eck,’ said Deirdre. ‘’E won’t be pleased,’ and she headed miserably back to The Royal Oak.

On one of the benches outside the pub, Ruby and Agnes were watching over Racquel in her pram while Andy sat on the grass with a tumbler of orange juice. Agnes had been inside to find Ronnie. ‘’E’s past carin’ again, Ruby. On ’is fourth pint, said Clarence.’ She was holding two packets of Smith’s crisps. ‘’Ere y’are, luv,’ she said and gave one to Ruby.

‘My lucky day,’ said Ruby. The packets of crisps each contained a little blue waxed-paper twist of salt and Ruby had found two of them. She was rejoicing at the unexpected good fortune when a drunk Stan Coe staggered past and bumped into the pram.

‘Watch where y’goin’, y’big lump,’ shouted Ruby.

Stan was too far gone to notice, but his sister had heard the remark. ‘Shurrup, y’skivvy.’

‘Skivvy, y’self, Deirdre Coe,’ retorted Agnes, ‘an’ tek y’brother ’ome.’

Deirdre glowered at Agnes and led her brother away. There was a heated conversation between them and Agnes overheard Deirdre shout, ‘Problem is, Stanley, if y’go on like this you’ll be t’richest man in t’graveyard.’

Then Deirdre hurried back down the High Street, leaving Stan slumped on a bench against the wall.

‘That Deirdre Coe is a reight sourpuss,’ grumbled Agnes. ‘She never ’as a kind word for anyone.’

‘Ah jus’ ’ope ’er Stan gets ’is comeuppance one day,’ said Ruby.

‘Y’reight there, Ruby. ’E should be ’ung, drawn an’ quoted.’

It was early evening and the party was coming to a close for the children. Families were making their way home and Lily and Tom were sitting on the bench under the weeping willow tree. Tom was wearing his best suit and had put his jacket over Lily’s shoulders as the temperature began to fall.

‘So, have you given it more thought?’

Lily felt comfortable leaning on the shoulder of the giant policeman. She could feel the heat of his body and luxuriated in its warmth.

‘About what?’ she murmured.

‘Marriage,’ said Tom. ‘You know how I feel … I thought you felt the same.’