‘Common as muck that one,’ added Betty for good measure. She picked up a copy of the Daily Mirror and pointed to a photograph of Derek Bentley, the nineteen-year-old burglar who had been hanged last week at Wandsworth Prison in London for his part in the murder of PC Sidney Miles.

‘Word ’as it ’e didn’t shoot ’im,’ said Betty. ‘Alfie the milkman said it were the young lad what did it and ’im only sixteen. Anyway, good riddance I say.’

She continued to flick through the pages.

‘Did you want the newspaper, Betty?’ asked Prudence, concerned that in its dishevelled state it was no longer fit for selling.

‘No thanks, Prudence, jus’ m’usual ciggies.’

Prudence shook her head after Betty had gone. ‘She doesn’t change, does she?’

Vera gave her familiar non-committal smile.

‘So how can I help, Vera?’

‘I should like to surprise Joseph with a box of chocolates tomorrow. It will be a special treat for him.’

‘That’s fine. I’ve got six boxes arriving this evening along with a whole host of sweets. It promises to be quite a day. I’ll put a box on one side for you.’

In her bedroom over the Hardware Emporium, Nora Pratt was getting ready for school with her own version of sweet dreams.

She had been reading her Picturegoer magazine carefully and studying the etiquette of table manners. If she was to succeed as an actress she would have to be confident when dining with important people. In an article by Madame Sokolova of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, Nora had read that an actor could reveal the character of someone in a play through their behaviour at the dinner table. For example, a bread roll should be broken, not cut with a knife, and a napkin should be opened to its full extent and spread over the knees. As she packed her satchel she was determined she would carry this new knowledge into her Saturday job in Doris Clutterbuck’s Tea Rooms.

Nora stared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘A bwead woll should be bwoken,’ she said out loud.

When Lily walked across the village green she saw that Tom Feather’s police car had pulled up outside the school gate. The tall policeman was wearing a heavy greatcoat and his breath steamed as he blew into his frozen hands.

‘Hello, Lily. There’s a good film on tonight at the Odeon. Shall we go?’

Lily smiled at his eagerness. ‘What’s the film?’

‘Ronald Reagan and Virginia Mayo in She’s Working Her Way Through College and it’s had a good write-up. Apparently Reagan plays the part of a professor … and it’s definitely not a war film,’ he added with a grin.

She stared up at Tom’s friendly appealing face. ‘Yes, that sounds like fun.’

‘So I’ll pick you up at seven.’

Lily had a spring in her step as she walked up the school drive.