‘It comes in capsules as well, Ruby, but better t’stick wi’ what y’know.’ Herbert studied her quizzically. ‘And how are you, Ruby?’

Ruby sighed. ‘Ah’m seein’ Doctor Davenport this afternoon. Ah’ve been a bit sickly lately.’

‘Well, let me know what he says.’

‘Thank you, Mr Grinchley,’ she said. She tucked young Andy under an ancient shawl and hurried out of the shop.

Meanwhile Herbert looked through the window at the slim, attractive young woman and wondered why she had finished up with a man like Ronnie Smith.

It was shortly after ten o’clock when the children gathered in the school hall for morning assembly. At six feet two inches tall Sergeant Feather appeared like a giant to them as he stood in front of their upturned, eager faces. He seemed aware of this and knelt down on the wood-block floor.

‘Boys and girls, this talk is called “Stranger Danger” and the aim is to keep you safe.’ His voice was soft and persuasive, and the children hung on to every word. They were not the only ones. John Pruett sat back in his chair and watched the children carefully to ensure they were well behaved, while Lily studied the tall policeman with a new interest.

It was a talk Tom had given many times to the various schools in the Easington catchment area and he was used to the questions that might come his way.

‘Is it safe t’talk to anyone in a uniform?’ asked ten-year-old Celia Etheringshaw.

‘Good question,’ said Tom and proceeded to give examples of policemen and nurses.

At the end, John Pruett asked the children to join him in reciting the traditional school prayer:

Dear Lord,

This is our school, let peace dwell here,

Let the room be full of contentment, let love abide here,

Love of one another, love of life itself,

And love of God.

Amen.

John turned to Tom and spoke quietly. ‘Could you do me a favour before you leave?’

Tom glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve got time.’

John looked up at the sky. The sun had broken through the clouds. ‘Just a thought, Tom, but while you’re here could you take a photograph for me? I take one each year of the children and staff.’

Tom smiled. ‘At your service.’

‘Miss Briggs, could you gather the children outside on the playing field? And we’ll need three chairs for the staff.’ He hurried into the office and opened the bottom left-hand drawer of his desk. On top of the school logbook was the popular camera of the day, a Box Brownie in its case of wood and leather. Vera followed him outside, feeling slightly flustered at the short notice and buttoning up her cardigan.