During his sermon Joseph was on good form and thanked the Lord for the bountiful harvest, while Elsie Crapper was on cue for the first bars of the offertory hymn. The villagers were in fine voice and followed Elsie’s lead on the organ with ‘We plough the fields and scatter’, after which Aloysius read one of the lessons in a deep, sonorous voice. Following the final prayer, the congregation gathered outside church in little groups. It was a time to swap stories, catch up with the local gossip and rekindle friendships.

Aloysius Pratt approached Vera and Lily while Freddie ran off round the back of the church. He was spotted by Tom Feather, who left his mother talking to a group of ladies from the Women’s Institute. Like all the other boys in his school, Freddie carried a penknife. Each day he hoped there would be an opportunity to whittle some sticks or even use the attachment that was supposed to remove stones from a horse’s hoof.

Tom walked along the grassy bank that led to the cemetery and watched young Freddie with interest. The boy was holding his knife by the blade, then flicking it towards a clump of dandelions next to a gravestone. He was remarkably skilful.

A voice startled him. ‘Careful with that, young man.’

Freddie hastily put his penknife away and stared up at the giant policeman. ‘You need to go back to your mother before there’s an accident,’ said Tom with a grin. Freddie nodded and they both returned to the gravel drive in front of the church.

Lily was aware of Freddie suddenly standing alongside with Tom Feather. ‘Freddie, what have you been up to?’

‘Nothing to worry about, Miss Briggs,’ said Tom. ‘He was just playing round the back of the church,’ and he winked at Freddie.

‘Hello, Tom,’ said Aloysius. ‘I was just telling Miss Briggs that her bicycle is ready for collection.’ Aloysius was a large, genial man with a booming voice. He had built up his empire in the village with his thriving hardware shop and had installed his son, Victor, in his garage as the local mechanic. He was also grooming his other son, Timothy, to take over the Hardware Emporium in a few years’ time. Meanwhile his daughter, Nora, had her heart set on being an actress. Aloysius was a kindly soul and had decided to support her even though he held out little hope of her achieving her dream.

‘That was quick,’ said Tom.

‘Our Timothy fixed it,’ said Aloysius with pride. ‘’E’s good at repairing things.’

‘I’m very grateful, Mr Pratt,’ said Lily. ‘If you will let me have the bill I’ll call in after school tomorrow.’

‘No charge, Miss. It kept our Timothy busy yesterday an’ ’e enjoys doin’ jobs.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’ She looked down at the gangling teenager. ‘And thank you, Timothy. You are a very clever young man.’