“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said the voice of Antony behind him. “My old friends Amos and Parsons insisted on giving me a drink.”

He slipped his hand into the crook of Bill’s arm, and smiled happily at him.

“Why were you so keen about them?” asked Bill a little resentfully. “I couldn’t think where on earth you had got to.”

Antony didn’t say anything. He was staring at the poster.

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“What?”

Antony waved to the poster.

“Oh, that? Last Christmas. It was rather fun.”

Antony began to laugh to himself.