There was silence as they pondered the question.

Finally, Vera said, ‘Well, regardless of the dreadful weather, I’ve brought in a small cake to share after lunch to celebrate Lily’s birthday.’

John Pruett smiled. ‘Well done, Vera, we’ll certainly need it after the rehearsal.’ Vera and Lily looked puzzled. However, they had yet to experience Billy Icklethwaite’s contribution as the innkeeper.

At lunchtime John put on his coat, scarf and trilby hat and walked across the road to the General Stores, where Prudence Golightly was always pleased to see the local headteacher.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Pruett. I imagine the children are pleased to see the first snowfall.’

‘Yes, Prudence,’ said John, ‘they’re loving it.’

‘How can I help?’

‘I should like to buy some flowers.’

‘Of course,’ said Prudence.

‘Nothing too ostentatious,’ he added nervously.

‘I presume your sister is coming to visit?’

‘Well, er … not until nearer Christmas.’

Prudence was rarely surprised by the requests of her customers, but this was the first time John Pruett had asked for flowers. She assumed they were intended as a gift for a relation, or perhaps a friend in hospital, but she didn’t wish to intrude. ‘Yes, while this is not the best time of the year for flowers, I may have the perfect solution. I order a delivery of these each December from the market in Easington and was just about to put them in the window.’ She went into the back room and returned with a bushy plant in a pot. ‘Here we are – it’s a poinsettia.’

‘Perfect,’ said John.

Prudence smiled. ‘It’s a Mexican shrub and the ideal houseplant for Christmas. It should last into the New Year if it’s looked after.’

‘I’ll take it, please.’

The tiny shopkeeper put it in a tall cardboard box and covered the leaves carefully with brown paper. ‘There – that should keep it safe until you get it home.’

When John returned to school he put the plant on the passenger seat of his car to keep it away from prying eyes. He would give it to Lily at the end of school.

In the village hairdresser’s Sylvia Icklethwaite was having her weekly shampoo and set and Diane Wigglesworth puffed on a cigarette while she sorted her box of rollers.

‘’Ow about a nice cuppa tea?’ she suggested.

Soon two steaming mugs of tea were placed on the shelf beneath the big mirror and next to Diane’s ash tray.

‘So, any news, Di?’

‘Well, ah’ve got Miss Briggs, t’new teacher, comin’ in as m’last appointment t’day.’

‘She’s good,’ said Sylvia. ‘She sorted out my Arnold an’ didn’t ’ave t’use a cane.’

‘Ah wonder what she does instead.’

‘Keeps ’em interested wi’ drawin’ an’ plays an’ suchlike. In fac’, my Billy’s gorra big part in t’Nativity.’

‘What’s ’e like at actin’?’

Sylvia shook her head. ‘Jus’ like ’is dad.’