Stay as Sweet as You Are

by Joan Jonker

Genres: Family Life; Siblings; Friendship; World War II; Sagas

Synopsis

A warm and loving Liverpool community come to the rescue of an unhappy young girl. Joan Jonker, beloved author of the Molly and Nellie series, gives a touching insight into the life of a close-knit community in Stay as Sweet as You Are - a story that is sure to stay with you long after you have finished the last page. Perfect for fans of Lindsey Hutchinson and Dilly Court. With the face of an angel and a sunny nature, Lucy Mellor is a daughter any parent would be proud of. But Lucy only knows cruelty from the woman who brought her into the world. Her father, Bob, is the one shining light in her life. He tries to protect her, but he is no match for the devious wife who gives him no peace of mind and has no love for his daughter. The walls of the house are thin and Ruby Mellor's angry attacks on Lucy can be heard by their neighbours. One day, Irene Pollard decides she must do something, and she takes the girl under her wing. And two doors up, Mrs Aggie and her seafaring son, Titch, enrich Lucy's life with their sense of fun. But Lucy still craves a mother's love... What readers are saying about Stay as Sweet as You Are : 'With this book you feel that you are actually living alongside the characters. You laugh with them and cry with them, literally! Hilarious and sad. Joan Jonker depicts life as it really is, full of ups and downs. Never in my life have I read a book where I have laughed and cried so much. The dialogue and characters are so witty and life like, they are people that I hope I will come across at some stage during my life. Salt of the earth!' 'I feel I'm living with these wonderful characters, brilliant read'

Release date: February 2, 2012

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 516

Sample

The flickering flame from the streetlamp cast an eerie glow over the face of the young girl huddled on the step of the two-up two-down terrace house. Her elbows were resting on her drawn-up knees and her two hands cupped her dirty, tear-stained face. Her eyes kept darting up and down the silent street as though anxious for the sight of someone, and occasionally her head would turn to look back through the open front door and into the darkness of the house.

Lucy Mellor let out a long sigh. She was in for a hiding now, no matter what she did. Her mam would say she should have taken herself off to bed while it was still light, instead of staying up until this time. But when she’d gone out at half-past seven, her mam had said she’d only be out for half an hour so Lucy had stayed up waiting for her. Then it had started to get dark and she was afraid to go upstairs with no one in the house. She had thought about striking a match and lighting the gas-light, but her dad had warned her about standing on a chair striking a match. She was small for her eleven years and he said it was too dangerous. And now, with the house in pitch darkness she was too afraid to go inside, never mind climbing the stairs to her bedroom.

She heard a door close nearby and Lucy quickly swivelled her legs around into the hall, hoping whoever it was would pass without seeing her. She was in enough trouble without the neighbours knowing she’d been left alone until this time of night. They wouldn’t think twice about having a go at her mam; they were always telling Ruby Mellor that she wasn’t fit to be a mother. Then the girl heard the slow slithering footsteps and knew it was old Mrs McBride who lived three doors away. She’d be on her way to the corner pub for her nightly half-pint of stout. That meant it must be nearly ten o’clock because the old woman never went until just on closing-time.

Lucy held her breath, hoping their neighbour would pass without glancing in the doorway, but the old woman had sharp eyesight.

‘Is that you, queen? What on earth are yer doing sitting there at this time? Yer should have been in bed hours ago.’ There was surprise in Aggie McBride’s voice, and her eyes narrowed when she noticed the house was in darkness. ‘Are yer all on yer own, queen? Where’s that mother of yours got to?’

‘She’s only gone out for half an hour, Mrs Aggie – I’m waiting for her.’ Lucy was used to making excuses for her mother, she was doing it all the time. ‘She’ll be here any minute now.’

Aggie huffed. This girl had the face of an angel, with thick dark curly hair framing her heart-shaped face, and green eyes as big as saucers. She was a daughter any mother would be proud of, but not Ruby Mellor. She was too fond of herself, out for a good time and to hell with everyone else. All the neighbours had her taped and not one had a good word for her. She treated her daughter like a skivvy, making her do housework, shopping and even sending her scrounging to the neighbours if she ran short of anything. But she’d gone too far tonight, leaving a child in a dark house on her own; she deserved horse-whipping. ‘Would yer like me to come in and light the gas for yer, queen? Then yer could get yerself off to bed before she comes in.’

If Lucy had been frightened before, she was now terrified. ‘No, I’ll be all right, Mrs Aggie, honest. Me mam will be here any minute now, yer’ll see.’ There was a sob in the girl’s throat. ‘Yer won’t say anything to her, will yer, Mrs Aggie? Please?’

Aggie’s temper was rising. How she’d love to give Ruby Mellor a piece of her mind. But if she did, Lucy would be the one to suffer. ‘I’ll not say a dickie-bird, queen, I promise. Anyway, yer dad will be finishing his two-to-ten shift any minute, so if yer mam knows what’s good for her, she’ll make sure she’s home by then. If he finds you still up, and nothing ready for him to eat, then the sparks will fly.’ Wrapping the knitted shawl across her arms, Aggie managed to hide the jug she was taking to the pub for her half-pint of stout. Not that she needed to hide it, everyone in the neighbourhood knew Aggie and her drinking habits. ‘I’ll be on me way, queen, before Alec puts the towels on and I miss me nightly dose of medicine. And that would be a fate worse than death.’ She began to shuffle away. ‘I hope ye’re not here when I come back, Lucy, ’cos if yer are I’m going to sit with yer and wait for that mother of yours.’

‘I won’t be, Mrs Aggie,’ Lucy said, willing the old lady to move away so she could think of what to do. She had two choices. She could brave the dark and run up to bed, or she could brave her mother’s anger. It wasn’t often that Lucy rebelled against her life, but right now she was asking herself why she should be the one to be afraid. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Her mam was in the wrong, she had no right to stay out all this time.

Lucy sighed. She knew she’d get a hiding when her mam came in. Never a day passed without her feeling the force of her mother’s hands. And yet she never did anything to deserve it. She never answered back or gave cheek, never even looked sideways. But it didn’t take much to send her mother into a temper, and she was always the whipping boy. It wasn’t so bad when her dad was in; her mother wouldn’t dare hit her in his presence. But he worked three shifts and she didn’t see much of him. If he wasn’t at work he was in bed. And she’d been well warned what would happen to her if she went running to him telling tales.

Ruby Mellor was gasping for breath as she ran up the street. She’d cut it fine tonight, and she’d be lucky if she got home in time to have Bob’s bacon sizzling in the frying pan when he came back from work. She should never have listened to the friends she’d been drinking with when they coaxed her to stay a bit longer. But she’d been flattered by the attention of Wally Brown, who kept paying her compliments and keeping her glass filled. He was a handsome man in his thirties, a bachelor who was fond of the ladies. And Ruby lapped it up, telling herself another five minutes wouldn’t do any harm. Well, she now understood that five minutes could make all the difference. If Bob got home before her there’d be hell to pay.

She reached into her coat pocket for the door key and her hand was outstretched when she realised the door was open and Lucy was standing on the step. ‘What the bleedin’ hell are you doing still up? Get in that house, quick.’ Pushing past her daughter she ran into the living room and felt on the mantelpiece for a box of matches. She struck one, held it to the gas mantel and the room flooded with light. Then she spun around. ‘What the hell d’yer think ye’re playing at, yer little faggot? Why aren’t yer in bed?’

Lucy dropped her eyes. ‘Yer said yer were only going out for half an hour, and I waited for yer. Then it got dark and I was frightened to be in the house on me own.’

Ruby swung her arm out and her open palm caught Lucy on the side of the face, sending the girl reeling back. ‘Frightened, were yer? Well, I’ll give yer something to be frightened about, yer little faggot.’

Her hand touching her cheek, Lucy could feel the tears well up in her eyes and their warmth as they rolled down her cheeks. It was so unfair, she just had to speak out. ‘It’s not my fault, it’s you what told lies. Half an hour yer said, and now it’s gone ten o’clock.’

‘Don’t you dare answer me back. And what I do has got nothing to do with you. Ye’re big and ugly enough to see yerself to bed, and I’ll make yer sorry yer didn’t.’

Neither of them had heard the front door open or knew that Bob was standing in the hall listening. It was only when Ruby reached out to give Lucy a hiding that he made his presence known. ‘Touch her and yer’ll be out in that street on yer backside before yer know what’s hit yer.’ He put his arm across his daughter’s shoulders and bent to kiss her hair. ‘Don’t cry, pet, you just take yerself off to bed while I have a word with yer mam.’

Lucy shivered. ‘I’m cold and thirsty, Dad, could I have a hot drink, please?’

‘I’ll bring yer one up when yer mam decides a man needs a meal after a day’s work. You poppy off and I’ll bring yer a cup of tea in a minute.’

After Lucy had fled without a word or a glance, Ruby’s face and manner changed as if someone had waved a magic wand. In the place of anger, there was a smile. ‘She’s making a mountain out of a molehill, the silly thing. I was busy talking in me mate’s house and didn’t realise the time. But I told Lucy to go to bed before I went out, and she should have done as she was told. Still, there’s no harm done.’ She made a move towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll see to yer supper, it won’t take five minutes.’

Bob put his cap on the sideboard. ‘You stay right where yer are until we get a few things straight.’ He didn’t speak for a while as he took stock of the woman he’d married fifteen years ago. She’d been nineteen then, and as pretty as a picture. Nice slim figure, mousy-coloured curly hair, laughing hazel eyes and a peaches and cream complexion. The woman he was facing now bore no resemblance to that happy-go-lucky girl. The mousy-coloured hair was bleached to a horrible pale yellow, the hazel eyes were hard and calculating and Ruby’s face was caked with make-up. She looked like a brazen, cheap tart, and her actions matched her looks. ‘Where have yer been from half-seven until now?’

‘I told yer, I was in me mate’s and the time just seemed to fly over.’

‘Don’t you lie to me!’ Bob’s voice was raised in anger. ‘You must take me for a right bloody fool. I can smell the drink on yer from here, and it’s not just one glass yer’ve had – yer’ve had a bellyful. And while ye’re out enjoying yerself, yer leave an eleven-year-old girl on her own in the house. And I’ll bet that yer never gave her one thought as yer sat boozing with yer cronies. What sort of a mother are yer? In fact, what sort of a wife are yer?’

Ruby tried to wheedle her way out of it. ‘It’s the first time it’s happened, Bob, so don’t get in a temper. I’ll see to yer supper now and promise it won’t happen again.’

‘Ye’re not getting away with it that easy, so you just stay right where yer are. I should have put a halt to yer gallop years ago, before yer started going off the rails. I should have done it for Lucy’s sake because she deserves a better mother than you. She’s a good kid and I’m proud of her. But I can see now that she gets more hidings off you than she does hugs or kisses. And I blame meself for that.’ He crossed the room and, putting his hands on his wife’s shoulders, he turned her around to face the mirror hanging over the fireplace. ‘Take a good look at yerself, Ruby, and see yerself as others see yer. Peroxide blonde, thick cheap make-up, a face as hard as nails and smelling like a brewery.’ He dropped his hands and let out a deep sigh. ‘You are not the woman I married, but so help me, I’m stuck with yer. And so is our daughter.’

Ruby rounded on him. ‘Who the hell d’yer think yer are, talking to me like that? Just because I like to get a bit of enjoyment out of life, instead of being bleedin’ miserable, like you. You might be happy with work, bed, the wireless and a pint on a Saturday, but it’s not my idea of a good life. I’ve no intention of being the dutiful wife, who sits knitting or darning every night, so yer can get that out of yer head. Life is short and I intend to get the best out of it while I’m still able.’

He gripped her arm and held it tight. ‘Frankly, Ruby, I couldn’t care less what yer do. If yer want to drink yerself to death and get a name like a mad dog, then go ahead. But while I am the one working and handing my hard-earned money over to yer, I expect the house to be kept clean and meals on the table on time. I also expect me daughter to be dressed decent and to be treated with kindness and affection. I do not want her to be doing the work which you should be doing, or being ordered around like a skivvy.’ His grip tightened. ‘And if I ever find yer’ve raised yer hand to her in anger, then heaven help yer.’ He pushed her away as though in disgust. ‘Make a pot of tea so I can take a cup up to Lucy before she goes to sleep.’

Ruby glared at him. This was all that little faggot’s fault, and by God she’d pay for it tomorrow. There was no fear of Bob finding out, Lucy would be too scared to tell him.

Her husband watched her face and could almost read her mind. ‘Don’t for one moment think of taking yer spite out on her tomorrow, thinking she’ll be too frightened to tell me. ’Cos from now on I’ll be taking a very keen interest in me daughter’s welfare. Lay a finger on her and I’ll know about it.’ He waited until his wife was at the kitchen door before adding, ‘Oh, yer’ll be five bob down in yer money this week. I’m taking Lucy to town on Saturday to buy her something decent to wear. She’s the prettiest girl in the street but always looks like an unwanted orphan. But from today there’s going to be big changes around here, whether yer like it or not. So yer’d better start getting used to being a housewife and mother again. Yer don’t have to worry about being a wife to me, yer stopped being that years ago. And if ye’re looking for anyone to lay the blame on for all this, look no further than yerself.’

Aggie McBride was passing the Mellors’ house on her way back from the pub, and when she heard raised voices she felt no guilt in standing outside the window and listening. She kept nodding her head when Bob spoke, and muttered, ‘It’s about time yer came to yer senses, Bob Mellor. That’s right, lad, you tell her. Ye’re about five years too late, like, but as they say, it’s better late than never.’

She ambled on her way, chuckling to herself. She felt happier now she’d heard the queer one get her comeuppance, and when she got home she’d go over every word she heard as she sat in her rocking chair supping her stout.

Ruby was in a foul temper the next morning. Her head was splitting, what with having too much to drink and then the row with Bob. There was malice in her eyes as she dropped the plate of toast in front of her daughter. ‘Get that down yer and hurry up or yer’ll be late for school.’

Lucy looked down at the burnt bread and knew this was part of her punishment. She picked up a slice and bit into it. Then, in a quiet voice, asked, ‘Can’t I have some butter on it, please, Mam?’

Ruby mimicked her daughter’s voice. ‘“Can’t I have some butter on it?”’ She closed the living-room door quietly. Bob didn’t get up until ten o’clock when he was on the afternoon shift, and for all she knew he could be lying awake listening. So she kept her voice low. ‘Yer’ll be getting dry toast every morning from now on, seeing as yer dad is docking me money so he can buy yer some fancy clothes.’

Lucy raised her face and stared directly into her mother’s eyes. What she saw there caused her to turn away in distress, thinking, she doesn’t even like me, never mind love me. ‘I never asked me dad to buy me anything, Mam, I wouldn’t do that.’ She picked up her plate and got to her feet. ‘I’ll make meself a round of bread and jam because I’ll be starving if I don’t have anything to eat.’

Ruby watched her daughter go into the kitchen before lighting a cigarette. Inhaling deeply, and with a sneer on her face, she leaned against the door-jamb. ‘Yer dad won’t always be here, just remember that.’

Instinct told Lucy she would be well advised to get out of the house as quick as possible and away from trouble. She could eat the bread on her way to school. So without a word, she passed her mother, took her coat from the hallstand and let herself out of the front door. She stood for a moment with the bread in her mouth while she slipped her arms into her sleeves, then began to walk up the street.

Aggie McBride was standing on her front step, her shawl around her shoulders. She’d been waiting for Lucy to make sure the child hadn’t come to any harm. She was a kindly soul, was Aggie, with steel-grey hair combed back off her face and plaited into a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore false teeth when she was going out, but this morning she’d decided to give her gums a rest.

‘Were yer late getting up, queen?’ Aggie nodded at the bread. ‘No time for a proper breakfast?’

‘Just a bit late, Mrs Aggie, but I don’t think I’ll be late for school.’

‘Yer didn’t get into trouble last night, did yer? I heard yer mam and dad rowing when I passed on me way back from the pub. I hope she didn’t try and lay the blame at your door?’

Lucy shook her head. No matter what her mother did, she would never talk about her to anyone. After all, she was still her mother. ‘I went straight to bed and me dad brought me a nice hot cup of tea up.’

‘That’s good, queen.’ Aggie put her hand in the large pocket of her wrap-around pinny and brought out a rosy red apple. ‘Here yer are, girl, I kept this specially for you.’

When Lucy’s face lit up it was as though the sun had come out. ‘Oh, thank you, Mrs Aggie, I’ll eat it at playtime.’ She rubbed the apple on the sleeve of her coat and held it up to the old lady. ‘Look how shiny it is – I can see me face in it.’

Aggie chuckled. ‘I bet the apple thinks there’s an angel looking at it. Now, run along, queen, or yer’ll be getting the cane.’

Lucy took to her heels, shouting over her shoulder, ‘Ta-ra, Mrs Aggie.’

Aggie was waving to her when she heard the sound she’d been waiting for. She turned her head to see her next-door-but-one neighbour stepping into the street. Irene Pollard had a part-time cleaning job in the corner pub and she left the house every morning dead on ten minutes to nine. The Pollards lived next door to the Mellors, and Aggie was eager to know if Irene had heard the rumpus.

‘Good morning, Aggie! What are yer waiting for – better days?’

‘Irene, I had me better days fifty years ago, and, by God, I made the most of them. All I’ve got left now is to stick me nose into other people’s business – which brings me to the reason for standing on me step this time of the morning, getting me bleedin’ death of cold.’ She gave a toothless smile. ‘Did yer hear the carry-on at the Mellors’ last night?’

‘Couldn’t help it, Aggie. They were shouting so loud we could hear every word. Yer know how thin the walls are, yer can’t sneeze without the whole street knowing.’ Irene Pollard was a bonny woman, with plenty of flesh on her bones. She had auburn hair, brown eyes, a pretty round face and a good sense of humour, and her husband, George, was a riot when he’d had a few drinks on a Saturday. They had two sons, Jack fourteen, and Greg, twelve, and were well liked in the street. If anyone needed a helping hand, it was the Pollards’ door they knocked at. ‘I don’t know what started the row, but Bob certainly had a go at Ruby. She must have gone too far this time because Bob puts up with a lot from her. As George said, she’s had it coming for years now, the brazen hussy.’

‘I’ll tell yer what started it.’ Aggie quickly recounted what had happened. ‘The poor kid was terrified, all alone that time of night in a house in pitch darkness.’

Irene tutted as she shook her head. ‘She doesn’t deserve that child. I always wanted a girl but it wasn’t to be. How is it that someone like Ruby Mellor has a beautiful girl that she treats like dirt, and me, who was longing for a daughter, can’t have one? I love me two boys, yer know that, and having a girl wouldn’t have made any difference to the love I have for them. It’s just that a girl is a mate to her mother when she grows up, someone to share things with. If Lucy was mine, she’d get as much love off me, and George and the boys, as she gets hidings off her mother. Many’s the time the boys have been upset when they’ve heard her being belted. When they were younger they used to say she was like a fairy, with her being so pretty and dainty.’

Aggie sighed. ‘Well, let’s hope that Bob sticks to his guns and makes that wife of his toe the line. He must rue the day he ever set eyes on her.’

‘Only time will tell, Aggie, only time will tell. But I think in future, when Bob’s at work, and I hear any shenanigans from her, I’ll poke me nose in.’ Irene smiled. ‘I’m bigger than her and one swipe from me would knock her into the middle of next week.’

‘Give me a knock first, girl, ’cos I wouldn’t want to miss that for the world.’

‘I’ll sell tickets, shall I, Aggie?’ Irene started to walk away. ‘If I don’t get a move on I’ll be getting me cards. I’ll see yer tonight, sunshine, ta-ra for now.’

By dinnertime, the story had gone the rounds of the street. And when Ruby left the house to go to the shops, she could sense the hostility of the women who were standing at their doors talking to their neighbours. With their eyes boring into her, she tossed her head and sauntered past them, her jaunty step saying she didn’t give a damn what they thought. And she didn’t either. It was a pity the poor buggers had nothing better to do than stand gossiping. The only time they seemed to enjoy themselves was when two women got into an argument over their kids. Then the whole street would be out watching and shouting encouragement as the two women belted hell out of each other. And, of course, there was always a stir when a football was kicked through a window and none of the boys would own up to being the culprit.

There was a sarcastic smile on Ruby’s face as she neared the shops. If the truth were known, there wasn’t a woman in the street who wouldn’t change places with her, given the chance. They just didn’t have the guts. Then she had a thought that took the smile from her face. If she was going to be five shillings down in her housekeeping it would mean she’d be skint all the time. She wouldn’t be able to keep up with her friends, splashing out on drinks and handing cigarettes around. She’d be like a poor relation and that idea didn’t appeal to her one little bit. The truth was, if she had no money, she’d soon lose her friends.

Ruby hit on an idea as she turned into the butcher’s shop. She’d make the money up by cutting down on food, that’s what she’d do. If she was clever, no one would be any the wiser. And she’d start right now. ‘Just half-a-pound of steak, Stan, and a quarter of kidney.’ There, she gloated as the butcher cut the steak into small pieces, a quarter of steak less has saved me a few coppers. If I do that in every shop, every day, I’ll soon make up the five bob.

The meat was simmering on the stove when Lucy came running in from school. ‘I’m going out to play hopscotch with Rhoda, Mam. I’ll only be in the street.’

‘Just you hang on a minute, buggerlugs.’ Ruby threw her cigarette end in the hearth. ‘Yer can get in that kitchen and peel the spuds, never mind playing bleedin’ hopscotch.’

Lucy’s face fell. ‘But it’ll be dark soon and we won’t be able to play.’ There was pleading in her large green eyes. ‘Go on, Mam, please?’

‘Yer haven’t got cloth ears, so out in that kitchen before I belt yer one.’

Lucy was close to tears. ‘Just for half an hour, Mam?’ When she saw Ruby jump from her chair and make for her, the girl pressed back against the wall and lifted her arm to protect her face. ‘Don’t hit me, Mam, please.’

Ruby grabbed a handful of the dark hair and pulled. ‘Yer get those spuds peeled or I’ll break yer bleedin’ neck. Now—’ Her words were cut short by a loud banging on the open front door. Her face livid, she bawled, ‘What the hell d’yer want?’

‘Ruby, it’s Irene Pollard. Is everything all right? Young Rhoda here’s waiting for Lucy to come out to play, and she’s been knocking hell out of yer door for the last five minutes but can’t get anyone to answer. I just wondered if anything was wrong?’

Ruby bit so hard on the inside of her mouth she could taste blood. Any other neighbour she would have told to sod off, but Irene Pollard was a woman to be reckoned with. And her husband was very pally with Bob, too. ‘She’s coming now.’ Ruby took her daughter’s hand and squeezed until it hurt. She pulled her out to the front door. ‘I was telling her to wash her face before she went out, it’s filthy.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Irene said calmly. ‘She’d be dirty again in no time, so what’s the point? My two lads are playing ollies in the gutter, and they’re both as black as the hobs of hell. To say nothing about the state of their kecks. But they’ll be well-scrubbed before they go to bed.’

‘Will yer let go of me hand, please, Mam?’ Lucy asked. ‘Rhoda will be getting called in for her dinner before we’ve had a game.’

Ruby was almost spitting feathers with temper. And the look she gave her daughter as she joined her friend on the pavement, wasn’t lost on Irene. She’d bet a pound to a pinch of snuff that the girl would get a hammering for this. Unless Ruby was warned off. It was worth a try.

Watching the two girls marking the paving stones with a piece of chalk, Irene said casually, ‘If yer ever want to go out at night, Ruby, when Bob’s at work, yer can always leave Lucy with us, yer know. We’d love to have her.’

You bitch, Ruby thought. I bet yer had yer ears to the wall last night, listening. ‘What made yer ask that? Yer’ve never asked before.’

‘It was just a thought. She gets on well with the boys and would probably enjoy playing cards with them.’ Irene stretched to her full height and folded her arms under her ample bosom. ‘The offer’s there, if yer want to take me up on it sometime.’

‘No, Lucy usually goes to bed about eight o’clock.’ Then begrudgingly, she added, ‘But thanks all the same.’

‘Well, if yer change yer mind, just knock on the wall.’ Irene was determined to get her point across. ‘We’d have no trouble hearing yer – these walls are so thin yer can hear everything that goes on either side.’ She smiled as Lucy hopped from one square to another, her pink tongue peeping out of the side of her mouth. ‘She’s a beautiful child. I hope yer know how lucky yer are.’

Ruby had no intention of answering that. The nosy bitch had gone far enough. The next thing, she’d be inviting herself in for a cup of tea. ‘I’ll have to go in, or me stew will be sticking to the bottom of the pan.’

There was a half-smile on Irene’s chubby face. She’d gone as far as she could; she only hoped the message had got home. She’d keep her ears open tonight, just in case, but she had a feeling Ruby would be keeping her hands to herself, for a while at least.

Irene waited until Rhoda had completed the course before asking, ‘Who’s winning?’

‘We’re even, Mrs Pollard.’ Both girls were puffing and red in the face. After all, it was hard going hopping from one number to another. If you couldn’t keep your balance, and your other foot touched the ground, you were counted out.

Lucy grinned. ‘We always end up even, Mrs Pollard. We let each other win, don’t we, Rhoda?’

Rhoda’s long, stringy hair had been tied back with a piece of ribbon, but with the exertion, most of it had come loose and was hanging down her cheeks. She was the same age as Lucy, but a much bigger girl in every way. Inches taller than her friend, she was very heavily built. She worried about that, but her mam had told her it was puppy fat and she’d lose it as she grew older. A big smile covered her face now. ‘Lucy means we cheat, Mrs Pollard.’

Irene chuckled. ‘If yer both know ye’re doing it, then it’s not cheating, sunshine. It means ye’re such good friends yer want to share.’

‘Me dad’s taking me to town on Saturday, Mrs Pollard, to buy me some new clothes.’ Lucy’s face was aglow. Never before had she had anything so exciting to brag about. ‘Aren’t I lucky?’

Irene put on a suitably impressed face. ‘I’ll say yer are! I hope he buys yer a pretty dress to match yer pretty face.’ To say she was surprised would be putting it mildly. It sounded as though Bob had changed with a vengeance. ‘Will yer call and let us see yer in yer new clothes, sunshine?’

‘If me mam will let me.’ Some of the shine had gone from Lucy’s face. ‘I’ll ask her, but she might say I’m showing off.’

‘Anyone with new clothes wants to show them off, it’s only natural. Anyway, seeing as it’s yer dad what’s mugging yer, it’s him yer should ask.’

Lucy thought that over for a few seconds, then smiled. ‘Ye’re right, Mrs Pollard, I’ll ask me dad.’

Rhoda looked down in the mouth. ‘I wish me mam would take me with her when she buys my clothes, then I could pick what I like.’

‘Your mam buys yer lovely clothes!’ Lucy said. ‘Yer always look pretty.’

Irene took a deep breath. Next to her friend, Lucy always looked like a tramp, but she never complained. There was no envy or malice in her, she was a good kid through and through. What a pity her mother didn’t appreciate it. They say God makes them and matches them, but He had certainly slipped up when He’d matched this angel with a devil like Ruby Mellor.

Lucy didn’t let her excitement show until she was standing on the pavement watching her dad pull the door