When the interval came, the usherette walked down the front of the stalls with a little tray attached to her neck by ribboned cord holding drinks and ice creams. Some folk had left their seats and gone into the foyer or to the bar area, but quite a few were still in the auditorium now the lights had come on again. Rose went and got Betsy a bottle of juice and an ice cream which she ate in her seat, chattering about the huge goose and the big gold eggs and the magician until the lights dimmed again and the second half of the show began. It was only then that Rose realized just how tensely she’d been holding herself, expecting any moment a hand on her shoulder and a repeat of the invitation to join Alexander and his godchildren for drinks.

As the show came to an end and the encores finally gave way, they donned their coats and then joined the throng slowly filing out of the auditorium. Betsy was still feverishly excited and red-cheeked but Rose found herself responding to the child’s chatter with only half her mind. The other half was focused on the possibility that she might run into Alexander again as they left the theatre.

They were halfway across the vestibule when she saw him. It wasn’t difficult – he towered above most of the men present. He was scanning the crowd and as he caught sight of her he smiled and nodded and then proceeded through the doors of the theatre into the street. She hesitated, but the sheer volume of people leaving carried them forward towards the exit and as they walked down the steps of the theatre she saw it must have been snowing heavily all the time they were inside, and it was still coming down.

He was waiting for her, standing to one side of the stream of folk, flanked by his godchildren. ‘Mrs O’Leary.’ He raised his hand as he called and several people turned and stared for a moment.

Highly embarrassed, Rose considered ignoring him but feeling that he was quite capable of calling again and not wanting to make matters worse, she took Betsy’s hand and made her way over to where he was standing.

‘So,’ he said to Betsy as they reached him, ‘what did you think of Mother Goose? Would you like one of her big golden eggs to take home?’

Betsy shook her head. ‘It would make her sad if one of her eggs was stolen.’