He took off his cap, a gesture that came close to an expression of emotion. His sandy, Viking hair gleamed briefly in the rain. Then he began to walk on, and Cooper was obliged to follow.

‘What was Jimmy Hind like?’ he asked.

‘He was a good lad. Clever. And dead keen.’

‘Keen on . . . ?’

‘The job. The ROC, you know.’

‘Yes, I know about the ROC and the observation posts.’

Massey grunted. ‘You know, you couldn’t sign up for the ROC until your fifteenth birthday. But Jimmy was mad on aircraft spotting and modelling, and he joined up the minute he could. It was one of the great things about the ROC – you were among people who talked about planes. There was a monthly magazine that was full of planes, too. So, yes, Jimmy was keen. He was the sort who was desperate to take the master test on a Sunday to get some badges on his uniform. Trouble was, his age. He was only seventeen when he was killed.’

‘Why was his age a problem? He was old enough to join, wasn’t he?’

‘I just said, you could join when you were fifteen. No, it wasn’t that.’

‘What, then?’

‘We used to have post meetings every week. Ours were on a Wednesday evening, seven thirty until nine thirty. In the summer, we met at the post, but during the winter we went to the pub.’

‘The Bird in Hand?’

‘Of course. It was the only one in the village, even then.’

‘And Jimmy wasn’t old enough.’

‘The landlord wouldn’t let him in until he was eighteen.’

‘So he missed some meetings.’

‘He hated that. But there was another problem.’

Massey speeded up his pace, as if to leave Cooper behind. Cooper slithered on the wet grass as he tried to keep up.

‘Mr Massey?’

‘Shirley,’ he said.

Cooper thought he’d misheard. ‘What?’

‘It was Shirley. Shirley Outram.’

‘What was?’

‘The problem.’

Cooper ran and put his hand on the next gate to prevent him opening the latch.

‘Tell me, Mr Massey. Please.’

Massey looked at him, with a searching gaze. Cooper seemed to pass some kind of test, because Massey dropped his hand.

‘Shirley was our only female observer. Yes, we just had the one in our section, and that was quite an innovation at the time, I can tell you. Somehow, she managed to make the uniform look good. A tight mini-skirt and kinky boots. I don’t know how she got away with it. Most of the observers were middle-aged men, you see, and she was a real breath of fresh air. There was quite a social life in the Corps – as well as the pub, there were parties, dances, and so on. You can imagine she was in demand.’

‘Yes.’