CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LONDON, FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 22 1944
Friday night is cinema night. It has been for the past three years. A treat once a week at least. Sometimes they go to the cinema twice or even three times in one week, but the Friday arrangement is permanent. Or as permanent as it is possible to get in war-ravaged London. There are new films to see every week. Hollywood churns them out like sausages from a factory, although the standard is high, mainly, it must be admitted. New British films are rarer but the ones they have seen have been good. Noel Coward, Trevor Howard, Richard Attenborough, Margaret Lockwood and Celia Johnson are names that spring to mind. And that nice Leslie Howard, of course.
Up in the vast circle, Elsie feels a sense of luxury in grand surroundings. So many seats
