‘Moving out? Only we were thinking about taking in a lodger but Kev said the room was too small. It’s only a little box room, really, above the hall. The estate agents called it a bedroom.’ She pulled a face. ‘But they would, wouldn’t they? There’s just about room for a single bed and a cupboard. A small chest of drawers. It’s not great, but if you’re interested…’ Her voice trailed off.

‘Interested? Of course I am. Are you sure Kevin wouldn’t mind?’

‘Positive. He always liked you, Bets. I mean…’ Dee paused, pulled a face. ‘Honestly, the room’s no bigger than a cell. Couldn’t swing a cat. We wouldn’t charge much because it’s, well, it’s not really commercial, is it, between friends? Or being so small? Perhaps you could babysit for us instead, pay your bit of the bills, rates, that sort of thing. Perhaps a token rent. We’d have to share the kitchen, obviously, and the bathroom, if that’s all right.’

‘All right?’ Betty said. ‘It sounds perfect. When can I move in?’

‘As soon as you like. Why don’t you pack your things and I’ll meet you at the station? I’m getting the 5:20 back.’

The train was slowing down, the fields giving way to suburban gardens, to red-brick buildings, to the station. Hatfield.

‘Right, boys,’ Dee said, ‘up you get.’ She turned to Betty. ‘I’m serious.’

‘I don’t know if I’ll be ready by then, Dee,’ Betty said. ‘I’ll try, but you know, if my father kicks up a fuss, it might take some time.’

‘Then just leave.’ She smiled. ‘Here.’ She delved into her bag, pulled out a diary and a pencil tucked in its spine, tore out a leaf and wrote something down. ‘My address. We don’t have a phone but my neighbour has, so if you ring this number…’ She pointed at the paper. ‘She’ll pass on a message. If you’re not here this afternoon, come whenever you can. Give me notice so I’ve time to make the bed.’

‘I’ll bring my own sheets,’ Betty said. ‘Towels. I won’t be any bother. Do my own washing.’

‘I should bloody hope so, Betty Fisher,’ Dee said. ‘I don’t have a housekeeper, I’ll have you know.’

Dee used to tease Betty that she was rich, with a housekeeper and a garden and her father’s pre-war Daimler. They’d both lost their mothers, but Dee’s father mothered her, and Betty envied that.

‘No hanky-panky, either,’ she added, grabbing the boys by their hands. ‘There’s our bus. See you later.’

Yesterday was so very long ago.

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