During morning break Lily was on the playground watching Norman Fazackerly and Reggie Bamforth exchanging cigarette cards that featured film stars and footballers. There was some serious bargaining going on and Reggie was insisting that a single Nat Lofthouse was worth three of Joan Collins. Meanwhile Lily was thinking how she might capture this interest in a mathematics lesson.

It was then that a familiar police car pulled up alongside the avenue of horse chestnut trees just outside school and the tall Tom Feather emerged, stretching tired limbs. He was in his uniform and he pressed his large hands on the wall of Yorkshire stone and gave a cautious smile towards Lily.

She walked across the playground, wondering what to make of this man. There had been many silences between them, as if he weighed words carefully before he spoke them. He also had kind blue eyes and a gentle smile.

‘Just checking,’ he said quietly, as if he didn’t want the children to hear. ‘Still fine for tonight?’

‘Yes, looking forward to it.’

He stretched his long arms and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Sorry, late shift last night.’

‘So what time?’

‘I could pick you up at six thirty. That gives us time to drive to York, park in Micklegate and walk to the cinema.’

‘Fine, see you then,’ said Lily and looked around anxiously. ‘And I’m on duty, so must go.’

He waved as he climbed back into his car.

‘Sit up straight, arms folded and silence, please,’ said Lily.

It was lunchtime in the school hall and the children were staring at their plates. Mrs Gubbins had prepared her famous pease pudding. The split peas had been soaked overnight and she had served it up with a thick slice of boiled beef. A feast for most of the boys and girls.

‘Now let’s say grace. For what we are about to receive …’

In the staff-room Vera and John were drinking tea when Lily joined them after completing her dinner duty. Vera was reading a newspaper. ‘Dear me,’ she said, ‘have you heard that average house prices in London have shot up to one thousand eight hundred pounds?’

‘That’s worrying,’ said John, head bowed over some paperwork. ‘Out of my range.’

Lily shook her head. ‘Well, I’ll never afford a house of my own on a teacher’s salary,’ she said.

Vera weighed her words carefully. ‘Perhaps one day you may have a partner to share the cost.’ It was meant to be a helpful addition to the conversation.

‘I doubt that,’ said Lily a little too sharply, and John looked up in surprise.

There were a few quiet moments while Vera riffled through the pages and John continued to read a lengthy document from County Hall about reducing winter temperatures in schools by conserving coal and coke.

Lily thought she ought to make amends. ‘By the way, Vera, I’ve offered to help Mrs Gubbins in the kitchen tomorrow.’