Jimmy’s mood could switch from night to day in a second; he was suddenly all sweet and sorry. ‘Orange juice now?’

We were sitting outside the refreshment tent, sipping home-made lemonade, when there was a loud bellow of laughter from a nearby stall. It was those same boys again: Robert and three others all around the same age, who’d been at our Christmas party. They were crowded around a curious contraption: a diagonal drainpipe fixed to a frame. Accompanied by much joshing and hilarity, they took it in turns to smash the end of the pipe with a rounders bat. After watching enviously for a few moments, I decided to swallow my pride and, when we’d finished our drinks, took Jimmy over to join them.

‘Hello again,’ Robert said. ‘You’re the vicar’s daughter, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I’m Molly Goddard. You’re Robert?’

‘Robert Parsons, at your service.’ He gave a mock salute.

‘Sorry for snapping just now. I thought you were making fun of my brother.’

He looked at his feet, suddenly awkward.

The stallholder was George Diamond. ‘Any good at “Catch the Rat”, Jimmy?’

‘What do you have to do?’ I asked.

‘Tuppence for six tries, Miss Molly,’ he said, holding up an old sock stuffed with something heavy. ‘I drop this into the top of the pipe and you have to hit it when it comes out the other end. Like catching a rat in a drainpipe. If you catch it, you get a lollipop or a sherbet dip.’

It looked easy enough, but after several attempts I began to understand what all the laughter had been about. It was the most infuriating game in the world. I tried every tactic: smashing the bat just as soon as the rat had disappeared; waiting two seconds before whacking it; and hammering the frame constantly. The boys encouraged me, cheering and booing, and somehow my failure hardly mattered. I hadn’t laughed so much in weeks.

‘Me now?’ Jimmy tugged at my sleeve, desperate to have a go.

‘Of course.’ I handed George another tuppence.

Jimmy held the bat over his shoulder and leaned in to peer up the pipe.

‘Stand back a bit, laddie,’ Mr D said. ‘Okay, that’s right. Now, are you ready?’

He missed the first two ‘rats’ but then, with his face set in grim determination, whacked the third as hard as he could and, to everyone’s astonishment, caught it fair and square. He continued whacking the stuffed sock until Mr Diamond stopped him. ‘That’s properly dead now, young man, and you’ve won two lollipops, one for you and one for your sister. Or would you prefer sherbet?’

As we turned to leave, Robert came to my side. ‘Are you around for the rest of the holidays?’

‘I’m always around,’ I said. ‘Vicars don’t really get holidays.’