‘I think it’s a grand idea,’ Cissie agreed. Sunday and the Locketts had been friends for as long as she could remember, although Sunday hadn’t seen quite so much of them since she had lost Tom. Edgar had been the vicar at Chilvers Coton Parish Church, until he had retired the year before and now he and his wife, Verity, had left the sprawling vicarage that had been their home for many years and were living happily in a little cottage in Attleborough. ‘Why don’t you ask David when he has a night off?’ she suggested. ‘I dare say Verity and Edgar could come most any evening now that he’s retired.’ It was nice to hear Sunday planning social events again.

‘Mm, you could be right. I’ll do that and you and George must join us too.’

‘Oh, you know my George ain’t much of a one fer standin’ on ceremony,’ Cissie pointed out. ‘An’ besides, I’m still tired from me weekend away. I’ll do the cookin’ for you instead.’

Sunday smiled at her affectionately. Some weeks before Cissie and George had caught the train to London to watch the International Lawn Tennis Challenge at Wimbledon, then they had stayed an extra day in a very nice hotel in the city to do some sightseeing before catching the train home again. Cissie had thoroughly enjoyed it, especially when Great Britain had won, but she was a home bird and had been glad to get back and had no intentions of going away again anytime soon.

Now Sunday sighed guiltily. Despite Cissie requesting some help some months before and Sunday promising she would advertise she hadn’t got around to it as yet but now she promised herself that she would. She had thought of asking Ben to do it, but she didn’t want to pressure him because he was so busy in the stables. On top of that he seemed to be in a permanent bad mood lately and sometimes she and Cissie felt as if they were walking on eggshells trying not to say anything that might upset him.

‘That doesn’t seem fair,’ Sunday pointed out glumly. ‘I’m just putting extra work on you.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Cissie assured her as she shuffled the newspaper on the table and then as something caught her eye, she snatched it up and frowned. ‘Would you just look at that,’ she said angrily, stabbing a finger at a picture of King Edward and Wallis Simpson. ‘He’s still walkin’ out wi’ that married woman, bold as bloody brass!’

Sunday refrained from smiling. She didn’t want to upset Cissie further.

‘I tell yer, the prime minister’ll have somethin’ to say about this soon if he carries on the way he is.’ Cissie sniffed indignantly. ‘Just what example is he settin’ to the nation, eh?’