We arrived a lot earlier this time in anticipation of another great evening. The sofas were taken one by one, and the room began to fill with relaxed conversation.

The first number from Harlem was a lively piece from the 1930s. The audience clapped as the saxophonist played a soulful reply to the strains of the guitarist.

The second piece, New Ghosts by Albert Ayler, was introduced by Tim Hill as he strode out into the centre of the floor.

His loud bird-like trills, followed by the unique tapping sounds from his keys, led us into another rousing number, definitely one to dance to.

The saxophone continued to hold a dialogue with the audience, inviting a rhythmic response.

The guitarist plucked out a distinctive melody on his intricately designed electric guitar, the drummer took over with a rip-roaring rhythm and the saxophonist answered with another humourous bird-like call.

The third piece ‘Besame Mucho’ ‘Kiss me a lot’, was certainly a soulful number - a languorous, seductive melody played by the saxophone.

The accompaniment on guitar, bass and drums was hushed, almost reverent - the stuff dreams are made of.

This was my favourite piece so far and, as I glanced at Vicki Vincent’s portraits gazing down on the wall opposite, it seemed as though, they too found comfort in the soft tones of the guitarist.

The audience, already enchanted, applauded as the saxophone once more took centre stage. The piece ended in a kaleidoscope of warm and gentle sounds.

And so to the fourth number, described by Tim Hill as ‘a little digression’. Speedy Gonzales was introduced by the guitarist before the saxophone took over with a stirring melody, which made the hairs on my neck stand up.

The guitarist and the drummer began to play a catchy duet and we were led from the sublime to the even more sublime. As the guitar plucked out an amazingly gentle tune, the drummer answered by tapping out a soft rhythm.

Finally the saxophone stole everyone’s attention with a masterful composition. The audience were entranced.

However, all in all, the guitarist made this one for me with the dulcet tones, fast scales and skillful plucking of his instrument, so reminiscent of a piano keyboard. The piece was beautifully brought to a close, when the saxophone responded with a deep reply.

During the piece by the famous guitarist Bill Frisell, Tim Hill suddenly disappeared into the cupboard from whence we could hear the far-off strains of his saxophone.

Gradually the sound grew louder before he reappeared and rejoined the band. This piece took us on a definite train journey - a rhythm, which had been apparent throughout the evening. As the music travelled along, the saxophonist disappeared once more, much to the merriment of some of the audience who exchanged amused smiles.

This time he returned with a chair and proceeded to watch his fellow players, who were still engrossed in their own music. The drummer tapped out a gentle rhythm on the cymbals.

Then suddenly Tim Hill played a roaring cry of anguish on his saxophone. Standing up once more, he made a passionate and urgent announcement. It resembled a fog horn, which reached fever pitch and a furious climax.

His discourse seemed to express vociferously all that was right and wrong with the world… The drummer responded with a flurry of frenzied tapping, creating waves of loud and soft vibrations, before returning to the familiar steam train like rhythm.

The players were taking us on a musical journey, leaving the station to one long, drawn out and emotional note from the saxophonist.

This was followed by a moment of incredible silence, after which, the applause from the audience was all the more dramatic.

The next number by Freddie Hubbard was opened by the drummer thundering out a storm. Night Train were off on another journey of discovery.

The instruments rambled over musical mountains and dales leading us into the wonderful world of make-believe. The saxophone kept the train speeding along into the night, while the drummer kept those pistons working.

The imposing portrait of the old lady, by Wendy Head watched the train go speeding by and pondered on the meaning of all this haste…

An old man on the front row sat forward, head in his hands, nodding and smiling as the sound of the saxophone filled the room.

And so the train slowed down once more, before letting out a final, angry burst of steam, as it came into the station - Its destination the interval!

The next few pieces were composed by Tim Hill himself.

The first was dominated by loud ramblings on the saxophone answered by thunderous drum playing. The piece was punctuated by a silent pause in the middle and finished with a flourish by the saxophone.

The second was another soulful number, a heart rending plea followed by another dramatic silence, leading to the train gathering pace once more.

The lights behind the musicians flickered in time with the furious beating of the drum. The saxophonist continued to play his unstoppable melody answered by the guitarist with his rhythmic chords, punctuated by further loud bursts of drumming, brought to a climax by a clash of the cymbals and the train shuddered to a halt.

Ballad of The Wind opened with a moaning tune played by the saxophone. The wind rose and fell as the saxophone was answered by the soft response of the guitar and bass.

Once again the lights flickered a fitting accompaniment to the ghostly strains of the instruments. The drummer conjured up a gentle breeze as he softly brushed his drums and cymbals with a light caress, lulling the audience into a reverie.

The guitar mimicked the dying wind, in answer to which the saxophone surprised us by gathering pace and playing amongst the trees. More smiles were exchanged amongst the audience, before the piece finished with another moment of dramatic silence.

Once again, the portraits hanging on the wall were drawn into the drama of the evening.

As the music continued Andy Knutt and Richard Holt led two dancers onto the floor. Like marionettes, they cavorted and froliced, intent on mimicking each others comical moves.

As the Night Train departed the last station, it left us with the memory of another entertaining journey through the Musical World according to CICCIC.

As jazz lover Steve Johnson said: "Night Train presented us with some interesting material by Albert Ayler and Bill Frisell. It was great to hear some pieces which are seldom played elsewhere."