It was Monday, 5 January and the land was still and sepulchral – a white world, silent and cloaked in snow. The cold was bitter, almost savage, and all sound was muted while the creatures of the countryside sought refuge. Lily waited at the bus stop as each unique snowflake feathered lazily to the ground to join its neighbours, covering the main street of Kirkby Steepleton in a white shroud. She glanced up. Above her head the high-pitched keening of the single telephone wire was a strange, eerie sound, like the cry of a baby, and Lily pulled her woollen hat over her ears. An unknown destiny stretched out before her and she wondered where it would lead.

Soon she was huddled in a seat with a few familiar passengers in the steamy warmth of William Featherstone’s bus, staring out of the window at a spectral vision of sky, trees and snow. The dawn light revealed a strange world. During the night the wind had scoured the drifts of snow to form an alien landscape of curves and ridges. Only the spiky heads of cow parsley pierced the smooth crust. As she sat there she thought of Tom. He was a regular visitor now at Laurel Cottage, much to the displeasure of her mother.

Eventually the bus arrived in Ragley High Street, a silver ribbon of ice between the desolation of the frozen hedgerows. Inside their homes, the villagers were stoking log fires, while a pall of wood smoke had settled on the pantile roofs, so that when Lily stepped on to the pavement a malodorous mist hung heavy and with every breath icy fingers froze her bones.

As she walked up the school drive she saw John Pruett. The snow on top of his car had settled like flour on a newly baked loaf and he was sweeping it off with a gloved hand. Together they walked into the school office, where Vera was admiring her new calendar. She had cut out a page from her Woman’s Own magazine. It was a beautiful coloured portrait of the Queen above a calendar for 1953, which she had mounted on a piece of card and hung on the wall behind her desk. ‘Perfect for the office, I think,’ she said with a satisfied smile.

‘I agree,’ said John with moderate enthusiasm. ‘Very useful.’

‘It’s a lovely picture,’ said Lily, eager to show support for Ragley’s most ardent royalist.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ asked Vera. ‘I’ve prepared a pot as I have some exciting news.’

‘Yes, please,’ said John and Lily in unison. This was clearly something of import.

‘It arrived on Saturday right out of the blue,’ announced Vera, while John and Lily hung up their coats, scarves and hats. Vera proceeded to draw out the suspense as she poured two cups of tea. Then she added milk from the jug, along with John’s regulation two spoonfuls of precious sugar.