He had been reading Comic Cuts but now put his comic on the bench.

He stood as I approached. “Oh, I was miles away. Wasn’t listening for a car.”

“Well this is your time off.”

He grinned. “You went to chapel with Milly.”

“I did, and I took her photograph. Now I’d like to take yours.”

He stared. “Me, just me?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never had a picture on my own, only with the others at the Bluebell.”

Once more, I went into my explanation about an article, and people and places. I could see that he had already heard the story, but listened politely.

I took out my Thornton-Pickard. “Where would you like to have your picture taken?”

“I’d like to stand next to your car.”

“There are bigger cars to choose from. I won’t tell.”

He looked thoughtful. “If the car was too big, I would never pass it off as having once been mine. Besides, I like the Jowetts. There’s an old one for sale in the garage where I work on Thursdays, It’s tip-top.”

“I’m guessing you like most cars. I know you like trains, I’ve been hearing about the little red engine you had.”

His face lit with a brilliant smile. “I hope one of the kids took it with them.” He stood by the car, waiting.

“Go on, get in the driver’s seat.” The sky was a perfect blue, the bright sun sandwiched between a mass of white clouds with dark centres. “Let’s make the most of the light.”

“Should I take my cap off?”

“You’re fine just as you are.” I like to chat as I set up a photograph, to put my subject at ease. This time there was an ulterior motive. “So which comes tops for you, trains or cars?”

“I’ve given up on watching trains.” He hesitated. “Mr. Raynor said best not go any more.”

I made a guess at why. “Since what happened last week?”

He nodded. “You heard then?”

“A bit gruesome, eh?”

“Someone came to the house asking questions but they didn’t talk to me. I thought I’d be asked about Ardsley station, but I wasn’t. I suppose they asked the railwaymen.”

With the light behind me, I clicked the shutter, and again.

“Stand by the car, Alec, as if you’re just about to get in.”

He did so. There was a sudden shaft of brightness. Alec’s shadow was longer than himself. “What would you have said, if you’d been asked about that business? You see I can’t think how anyone would get a body on a train without being noticed.”

“I’ve watched the men working. There’s a man to shunt the wagons into the sidings, make sure they’re in the right place to be connected. The driver and firemen are seeing to the engine. There’s a man stacking the boxes of rhubarb. He takes a break when he can. It would have to be when the shunting’s done, when the wagons are assembled in the marshalling yard ready to go. If it’d been January or February, you wouldn’t get an extra box in, never mind a body. But by March, towards the end of the season, not every wagon is full.”