Stay in Your Own Back Yard

by Joan Jonker

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

Synopsis

Two families are united in love and friendship, yet will ambition threaten their future happiness? Joan Jonker introduces Nellie McDonough and Molly Bennett, two of her most popular characters, for the first time in this heart-warming Liverpool saga, Stay in Your Own Back Yard. Perfect for fans of Katie Flynn and Sheila Newberry. In her terraced house in Liverpool, Molly Bennett struggles to bring up four children on her husband's meagre wage. But Molly doesn't complain; she has an abundance of things money can't buy - and a home filled with love and laughter. When her eldest daughter, Jill, is offered a place at high school, Molly is racked with guilt. She needs Jill working to relieve their poverty. But Jill eases Molly's conscience by getting herself a job in a baker's shop while signing up for night school. Molly's best mate is Nellie McDonough; they spend hours laughing, gossiping and lending a helping hand to others. And when they discover one of their neighbours is being beaten by her violent husband, the friends roll up their sleeves and take action. Meanwhile, Jill starts dating Nellie's son, Steve, and both families are delighted. But Jill lands herself an office job that takes her into a world beyond the confines of their close-knit community and she and Steve seem to be drifting apart... What readers are saying about Stay in Your Own Back Yard : 'If you want a feel good factor book then get in your comfy chair and snuggle up. Joan Jonker will make you laugh, and she will make you cry. But she will leave you wanting more and more of her books' 'Great story and characters. A funny, friendly and lovely family story. You are carried away and become part of the family'

Release date: June 24, 2012

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 472

Sample

Chapter One

‘I wish I knew what she wants me for.’ Molly realised she was talking aloud and turned her head quickly to make sure there was no one around. ‘I’ll be getting locked up one of these days, talkin’ to meself.’

She gripped one of the round iron end posts of the railing before her and surveyed the single-storey council school. Since her daughter, Jill, had come home yesterday with a note saying the headmistress wanted to see Molly, she had been a bag of nerves. If it had been her other daughter, Doreen, or her son Tommy who’d brought the letter home she’d have known it meant bad news ’cos they were a right pair of scallywags. Always in trouble for one thing or another, getting the cane in school for being cheeky or fighting with the other kids in the street. But Jill was different, never caused her a moment’s worry. Her school report was always good, and she never fell out of friends with anyone. So what the headmistress wanted to see Molly for was a mystery.

She looked down at her old coat which was frayed around the button holes and cuffs. It had been blue when she bought it, but now it had faded so much it was hard to tell what colour it was supposed to be. And when her eyes travelled down to her scruffy shoes, she let out a deep sigh. For all the polish and elbow grease, they still looked like something the rag man would turn up his nose at. Still, they were all she had so it was a case of Hobson’s choice.

Her gaze moved to the hand gripping the railing, and the ring of white skin on the third finger of her left hand. For the first time in her married life, she’d pawned her wedding ring. If Jack found out, there’d be merry hell to pay. But what else could she have done? She didn’t have a pair of stockings to her name, and she certainly wasn’t going to let her daughter down by turning up with bare legs. Being poor didn’t mean they had no pride.

Reminding herself to keep her ringless finger out of sight, Molly took a deep breath, muttering, ‘Don’t know what I’m gettin’ all worked up about, she can’t eat me.’

Straightening her shoulders and holding her head high, she marched through the school gates and across the playground. Molly had a bonny figure, not fat but padded in all the right places, and she moved now with an easy grace that belied the apprehension she felt.

The corridors were empty when she entered the building but she knew where Miss Bond’s office was, and made her way towards it.

‘Sit down, Mrs Bennett.’ The headmistress waved her to a chair on the other side of her desk. She was a tall angular woman with steel grey hair combed back from her face and coiled into a bun at the nape of her neck. She had a stern face, and looking at her beneath lowered lids, Molly thought, it’s no wonder all the kids are scared stiff of her. Her face is enough to frighten the living daylights out of anyone!

Miss Bond took some papers from a side drawer of her desk and laid them in front of her. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Jill.’

‘Why?’ Molly sat forward. ‘What’s she been up to?’

The ghost of a smile crossed Miss Bond’s face. ‘Nothing wrong, I can assure you. Jill is one of the best pupils we’ve ever had. She’s always polite, pleasant, and very diligent.’ She picked up the top sheet of paper from the pile and handed it to Molly. ‘This is her school report, which you’ll be getting when she leaves school next month. As you will see, she came top of the class in every subject.’

The words on the paper swam before Molly’s eyes. She looked at them because she knew it was expected of her, but her mind was still asking why she was here. She raised her head. ‘Our Jill’s always been bright, right from when she was a toddler.’

‘She’s more than bright, Mrs Bennett, she’s a very clever girl. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I think Jill should go on from here to a high school.’

‘A high school!’ Molly’s jaw dropped. ‘But she’ll be fourteen! Everyone goes to work when they’re fourteen.’

Miss Bond leaned forward, her elbows on the desk. ‘Not everyone has Jill’s brains. She’s a very intelligent girl, and with the right education she could go far. It would be such a waste to send someone as bright as she is to work in a corner shop or a factory.’

‘A factory job was good enough for me,’ Molly said, her face red. ‘It didn’t do me no ’arm. An’ her dad works in a factory.’

‘I didn’t mean to sound patronising,’ Miss Bond replied. ‘But I don’t think you understand how gifted your daughter is. I’ve been teaching for thirty years now, and Jill is one of the most promising girls I have ever taught. With the right education, she could go far.’

‘And where’s the money comin’ from?’ Molly asked, thinking the woman must have lost the run of her senses. Did she think they were millionaires or something?

‘If you agree, we could try to get her a free scholarship. She would have no trouble passing the entrance exam.’ Miss Bond knew she was asking a lot from a family who were hard put to make ends meet, but she had to try. Jill Bennett had it in her to make something of herself, to get out of the poverty trap that her parents and all their neighbours were in. ‘The only money you would need to provide would be for her uniform and books.’

‘Is that all?’ Molly couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice. Then she lowered her head, and gazing at her clasped hands told herself to keep that quick temper of hers in check. ‘Miss Bond, we don’t ’ave money to spare. My ’usband brings in two pounds fifteen shillings a week, and that’s with workin’ all the hours God sends. Out of that I ’ave to pay the rent, gas and coal, and feed and clothe the six of us. I get me money on a Saturday, an’ by Tuesday I don’t ’ave two ha’pennies to rub together. We live on tick from the corner shop until pay day, then we start all over again.’

‘Will you at least think about it, and talk it over with your husband? It would be such a waste if Jill weren’t given the opportunity to make use of the talents she’s been blessed with.’

Molly’s eyes narrowed. ‘Does our Jill know about this? I don’t want yer fillin’ her head with impossible dreams, an’ then ’er blamin’ us for keepin’ her back.’

Miss Bond shook her head. ‘I haven’t spoken to Jill about it. But I beg you to give it some thought, talk it over with your husband and see what he says.’

Molly put her hands on the arms of the chair and levered herself up. ‘All the talkin’ in the world won’t change things. I’ve been waitin’ for our Jill to leave school, lookin’ forward to havin’ an extra few bob comin’ in.’

Molly looked at the headmistress’s good quality warm dress and sturdy shoes, and wondered if she had any idea what it was like to try to feed and clothe six of them on the money Jack brought home. She didn’t look as though she’d ever known hard times.

Miss Bond held the door open. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but please think it over.’

‘I could think about it until kingdom come, but it wouldn’t make any difference.’ Molly gave a deep sigh. ‘I know yer’ve only got Jill’s interests at heart, an’ I thank yer for that. If our circumstances were different I’d be only too happy to do anythin’ to help ’er and me other children, ’cos they mean the whole world to me an’ my ’usband. But as things are, we’ve barely enough money comin’ in to put clothes on their backs an’ food in their stomachs. I need Jill working and bringin’ in a wage every week, not for luxuries but for survival.’

Molly could feel the headmistress’s eyes on her back as she walked down the corridor and forced herself to move slowly. But as soon as she was through the main door she took to her heels and ran across the playground, tears streaming down her face. She kept up the pace until she was out of breath and pains in her chest forced her to slow down. Her tummy was churning with a mixture of despair and humiliation, and she felt like being sick.

Molly dashed a hand across her eyes. She’d never felt so worthless in her life. When she’d told Miss Bond they were too poor to send Jill to high school she was only telling the truth. But it didn’t stop her feeling guilty that their circumstances were going to prevent her daughter from having the start in life she deserved.

Then the anger in Molly answered back. I should never have been put in that position! As though I was to blame! Surely to God the woman should be more understanding, seeing as all the kids attending that school are from working-class families, some of them without a decent pair of shoes on their feet. Perhaps she hadn’t meant to sound as though she was blaming Molly for holding her daughter back, but to Molly’s ears that’s just the way it did sound. As she walked in the direction of home an argument raged in her head.

‘Bein’ poor isn’t somethin’ to be ashamed of,’ she muttered aloud, bringing a startled look to the face of a woman passing in the opposite direction. ‘Half the people in the country are as poor as we are . . . some are even worse off! She ’ad no right to make me feel guilty, as though I don’t want what’s best for me own daughter. As if I wouldn’t give ’er the world if it was in me power! But I can’t just pluck money out of thin air. And I don’t ’ave a magic wand to wave, or a fairy godmother to grant me three wishes, so it’s no good me cryin’ me eyes out and gettin’ all upset. Fate deals the cards and we didn’t get a winning hand, that’s the top an’ bottom of it.’

‘Has she been behavin’ herself? Not givin’ yer any lip?’

‘She’s been fine.’ Mary Watson had been minding Molly’s four-year-old daughter, Ruthie. ‘We’ve been playin’ snap all afternoon.’

‘I won, Mam!’ Ruthie threw her arms around Molly’s waist. ‘I won nearly all the games.’

‘Yer cheated,’ Bella Watson said, her tiny mouth pursed. She was the same age as Ruthie, and when they weren’t fighting they were the best of friends. ‘Yer hid cards under the table.’

‘Don’t be tellin’ tales out of school,’ Mary laughed. ‘Yer both as bad as one another.’ She looked hard at Molly, noting the red-rimmed eyes. ‘How did yer get on?’

‘All right!’ Molly wasn’t in the mood for confidences. ‘It was just to tell me our Jill’s done very well, top of the class in everythin’.’

Molly turned to her daughter and was just in time to see her raise her hand and smack Bella across the face. ‘You little faggot!’ She bent and delivered a resounding slap across Ruthie’s legs. ‘Honest, I need eyes in me backside with you.’

‘That’s not fair!’ Ruthie hopped up and down, rubbing her leg. ‘She ’it me first.’

Molly groaned and raised her eyes to the sky. ‘Flippin’ kids! Who’d ’ave ’em?’ She grabbed her daughter’s hand. ‘Say yer sorry to Bella, and thank Auntie Mary for mindin’ yer.’

Ruthie lowered her head, her toes scuffing the pavement. ‘She ’it me first.’

‘Skip it, Molly,’ said Mary. ‘They’re both as bad as one another.’ She folded her arms. ‘Yer haven’t seen anythin’ of Miss Clegg, have yer?’

Molly looked puzzled. ‘No, why?’

‘I haven’t seen hide nor hair of ’er for three days and I’m gettin’ worried. Usually I see her a couple of times a day, either standin’ at the door or in the yard, but for the last three days I haven’t set eyes on her. I’ve tried knockin’ on her door, and on the wall, but there’s no answer.’

‘Have yer tried the back door?’

Mary nodded. ‘It’s locked.’

Molly walked the few steps to next door and banged hard on the knocker. Then she lifted the letter box and yelled, ‘Miss Clegg!’ After a few minutes she walked back to Mary. ‘Yer’ve got me worried now.’ Mary’s neighbour was eighty-two, a lovely old lady who was popular with everyone in the street. ‘We’d better do somethin’, ’cos at her age anythin’ could ’ave happened.’

‘I’ve thought of everythin’, Molly, and don’t know what more I can do.’

‘Well, we can’t just stand by an’ do nothin’.’ Molly was feeling uneasy. She was very fond of the old lady who was like a grandmother to all the kids in the street. ‘When our Tommy comes ’ome from school, I’ll get ’im to climb over ’er yard wall and open the entry door for us. With a bit of luck ’er kitchen door might be unlocked.’

Tommy gazed at the wall, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. ‘I’ll easy get over there.’

Molly and Mary gaped as he pressed his back against the opposite wall, then with his arms high above his head, took a running jump. Before they had time to take in what was happening he was sitting astride the top of Miss Clegg’s wall, then he swung his body round and jumped down.

‘My God, he’s done that a few times,’ Molly said. ‘No wonder he’s never got an arse in ’is kecks or soles on ’is shoes.’

Tommy opened the entry door with a flourish, a look of triumph on his face. ‘Easy-peasy.’

Molly didn’t know whether to kiss him or give him a crack. Then she remembered she was the one who’d asked him to do it, so she could hardly blame him. ‘Come on, Mary, let’s see if the door’s open.’

But the kitchen door was locked, and they looked at each other questioningly. ‘What now?’ asked Mary.

Molly was already peering through the net curtains on the window, but the material was heavily patterned and she couldn’t see anything. ‘Tommy, come and stand on this sill an’ see if yer can get the top of the window down.’ He hopped on to the sill, thinking it was getting more exciting all the time. With his mother’s hands supporting him, he looked through the glass pane. ‘The window’s not locked, I can see the catch.’

‘Then pull it down,’ Molly said. ‘Gently though, I ’aven’t got no money to be payin’ out for a new window.’

But the window hadn’t been opened for years and it refused to budge. Tommy grunted and groaned as he pushed and pulled, but to no avail. ‘It’s no good, Mam, it’s stuck.’

‘I wish Harry was here,’ Mary wailed. ‘He’d know what to do.’

‘Well, he’s not ’ere, so forget it.’ Molly stroked her chin. ‘The flamin’ window’s probably been painted over while it was closed and now it’s stuck fast.’ She thought for a few seconds then patted her son’s bottom. ‘Tommy, give a few bangs on the side of the frame, that might do the trick.’

He banged and pulled until his hands were sore. ‘Ah, ray, Mam, I’ve got splinters in me ’ands!’

‘Just once more for luck,’ Molly coaxed. And when the window dropped an inch she had reason to smile for the first time that day. ‘Ooh, yer clever kid! Now see if yer can get it down lower.’

His fingers in the narrow gap, Tommy put his full weight behind the next pull. He was rewarded when the frame rattled, then shuddered down a further twelve inches. After that, though, no amount of coaxing or pulling would shift it.

‘Could yer get through there, son?’

Tommy eyed the narrow aperture. ‘Yer won’t blame me if I break anythin’, will yer?’

Molly watched his head and shoulders disappear before closing her eyes. ‘I can’t look, Mary, tell us what’s goin’ on.’

Mary’s hand was over her mouth as she gave a running commentary. ‘His legs are goin’ in now. I can see ’is hand on the inside of the window. There’s a lot of clatterin’ goin’ on, like pans and dishes, but I can’t see anything.’

Molly opened her eyes when she heard the bolt being drawn back. Then the door opened and Tommy stood there grinning from ear to ear. The last half hour had been more exciting than going to the Saturday matinee to see Tom Mix. He wished his mates had been there to see him ’cos he knew when he told them on Monday they wouldn’t believe him.

‘Good work, son.’ Molly ruffled his hair. ‘Now wait ’ere while me an’ Mary ’ave a look-see. Don’t go away in case we need yer.’

Mary was so close on Molly’s heels she collided with her when Molly came to an abrupt halt. ‘Oh, my God!’ Molly rushed across the room to where she could see Miss Clegg stretched out on the couch. The old lady’s eyes were closed and her body was so still it caused the blood in Molly’s veins to run cold. She bent down and put one hand to the cold forehead while feeling for a pulse with the other.

Behind her, Mary cried, ‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’

Molly silenced her with a withering look. Then she knelt down and stroked the thin, snow white hair. ‘Miss Clegg, it’s Molly.’

The old lady’s eyelids flickered briefly, then her lips moved. Molly bent closer. ‘What was that, Miss Clegg? Yer want a drink? I’ll make yer one right now.’

Molly scrambled to her feet, grabbed Mary’s arm and marched her through to the kitchen. ‘Run up to the corner shop an’ ask Maisie to phone for the doctor. Tell ’er it’s urgent, then get back ’ere quick.’

‘D’yer want me, Mam?’ Tommy asked.

‘Yeah, run ’ome and get me a cup of milk.’ Molly held the kettle under the tap. ‘And don’t hang around, d’yer ’ear?’

The tea was made when Mary returned to say the doctor would be there as soon as he could. ‘Maisie said if yer need a hand, let her know.’

‘Raise Miss Clegg’s head while I give ’er this drink,’ Molly said. ‘I’m frightened to move ’er until we know what’s wrong.’

She held the cup to the parched lips and nearly jumped out of her skin when a thin hand covered hers to stop the cup being taken away. Within seconds it was empty. ‘Well, I never! Yer must ’ave been thirsty, Miss Clegg.’

The old lady dropped her head back. ‘Three . . . days.’ The words were as soft as the rustle of a leaf. ‘No . . . drink.’

‘I’ll make yer another one, then.’ Once again Mary was marched through to the kitchen. Molly opened her mouth to speak then realised her son was watching and listening, taking in everything. ‘Tommy, go ’ome an’ put a match under the pan of scouse. Leave it on a low light so it doesn’t burn.’

She waited till her son was out of earshot. ‘We’ll ’ave to clean ’er up before the doctor comes. The poor thing’s wringin’ wet, an’ she’s dirtied ’erself. The couch is soakin’, too, but we can’t do much about that.’ Molly gave a deep sigh. ‘Now yer not goin’ to go all weepy on me, are yer, Mary? ’Cos if yer are, yer’ll be neither use nor ornament.’

Mary squared her shoulders. ‘I’ll be all right. What d’yer want me to do?’

‘We’ll ’ave to see what’s wrong with ’er first, she seems to be in a lot of pain. But if we can, we’ll change all her clothes ’cos she smells to high heaven.’

Molly knelt down by the side of the couch. ‘Miss Clegg, can yer tell us what’s wrong with yer? The doctor’s comin’ an’ we’d like to clean yer up a bit before ’e gets here.’

‘My foot . . . terrible pain.’ The words came slowly as though the old lady didn’t have the energy to talk. But with a bit of coaxing from Molly they heard that she’d been standing on a chair cleaning the inside of the windows when she fell. She’d managed to crawl to the couch before passing out with the pain. When asked by Mary why she hadn’t knocked on the wall for help, Miss Clegg said it was dark when she came to, and she didn’t like to knock in case they were in bed. After that she’d been too weak even to try to move.

‘It’s too dark in ’ere to see anythin’, we need some light on the subject.’ Molly stood on a chair before striking a match and pulling on one of the chains hanging either side of the gas fitting. She held the match to the gauze of the gas mantle and the room flooded with light. ‘That’s better, we can see what we’re sayin’ now.’

As she was stepping down from the chair, Molly heard Mary’s gasp. ‘Just look at the state of ’er leg.’

‘Oh, dear God!’ Molly gazed with horror at the old lady’s leg. The foot and ankle were swollen to three times their normal size and the swelling reached halfway up her leg. ‘Yer don’t do things by half, do yer, sunshine?’ Molly forced a smile to her face. ‘It probably looks worse than it is, so don’t be worryin’. We’ll get yer changed an’ lookin’ pretty for the doctor comin’, okay?’

The old lady’s embarrassment was obvious as she tried to say she was sorry for putting them to so much trouble, but Molly brushed her words aside. ‘What are neighbours for, eh? Yer might ’ave to do the same for me one day.’

There was a sad smile on Molly’s face as she collected clean clothes for Miss Clegg. Everything was exactly where she said it would be. Knickers and stockings neatly folded in one drawer, nightdresses and vests in another.

‘It’s to be hoped she never ’as to do the same for me,’ Molly chuckled to herself. ‘If she saw the state of my drawers she’d ’ave a duck egg.’

‘Shout out if I hurt yer.’ Molly gently removed the garter, stretching it as wide as she could to avoid touching the swelling. Next came the stockings. ‘There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ She could see the shame in the faded eyes and had to bite on the inside of her lip to keep the tears at bay. She was such a proud old lady, this loss of dignity must be tearing at her heart. ‘I’ll close my eyes if you close yours,’ Molly said as she reached under the sopping wet dress for the equally wet knickers.

Twenty minutes later Miss Clegg had been washed down and dressed in fresh clothes. And they’d managed to get a thick blanket under her to save her clean nightdress getting wet. She’d had two cups of tea and a slice of bread and butter. Her face was still creased in pain, but she looked a lot better than when they’d first come into the room.

When the doctor came, Molly and Mary retired to the kitchen while he examined the patient, and stayed there until he called them in.

‘I’m going back to the surgery to call for an ambulance. Can someone wait with Miss Clegg until it comes?’ He was a man in his sixties, with thinning white hair, kind eyes and a gentle smile.

‘I’ll wait,’ Molly said, following him to the door. ‘Is it bad, Doctor?’

‘I think she’s broken her ankle, but because of the swelling it’s hard to say for sure. If it wasn’t for her age I’d leave it until tomorrow to see how it goes, but a fall at her age can be very dangerous and I’d rather she was in hospital. A shock like she’s had can bring on a stroke or a heart attack, and the best place for her is hospital.’

Molly slipped home to make sure the dinner was ready to serve up, and after telling Jill briefly what was happening, asked her to make sure her dad’s meal was put on the table for him. Then she went back to sit with Miss Clegg while Mary nipped home to see to her family.

Molly sat at the side of the couch holding the old lady’s hand. ‘Yer know, we’ve been neighbours all these years an’ I don’t even know yer first name.’

‘Victoria.’

‘Ooh, er, aren’t we posh!’ Molly grinned. ‘I’ve never known a Victoria before, only the old Queen.’

‘I was named after her.’ Miss Clegg turned her head on the pillow and smiled. ‘My mother was a school teacher at Saint Clement’s in Toxteth before I was born, and Victoria was on the throne then. I had good parents, Molly, and a very happy childhood.’ The old lady turned her head away, but not before Molly had seen her eyes fill with tears. ‘I never thought I’d come to this.’

‘Now don’t be worryin’ that lovely little head of yours, sunshine, ’cos when yer get to ’ospital they’ll soon ’ave yer up an’ about, you’ll see. Won’t keep yer any longer than they ’ave to. An’ don’t worry about the ’ouse, I’ll take the key and pop in now an’ again to make sure everything’s all right an’ keep it aired, ready for when yer come ’ome.’

‘I’m frightened of hospitals.’ The voice was a whisper. ‘Always have been.’

‘Yer’ll be fine!’ When the knock on the door came, Molly patted the old lady’s hand and kissed her cheek. ‘Mark my words, yer’ll be as right as rain in no time.’

The two ambulance men were pleasant and gentle, but the fear on Miss Clegg’s face pierced Molly’s heart. She tried to keep a smile on her face, but when the ambulance men lifted the stretcher she knew if she let the old lady go in the ambulance on her own she’d never forgive herself. Someone had to show they cared what happened to her.

‘Hang on a minute till I get me coat.’ The family could see to themselves for once, Molly told herself, it wouldn’t hurt them. Patting the old lady’s hand and throwing a smile to the ambulance men, she hurried from the room, calling, ‘I’m comin’ with yer.’

Chapter Two

Jack Bennett folded the Echo and pushed it down the side of the chair when Molly walked through the door. ‘Where the heck ’ave yer been? I’ve been worried sick about yer.’

‘I stayed until Miss Clegg was settled in the ward.’ Molly slipped out of her coat and threw it on the couch. ‘She hasn’t broken her ankle, but they’re worried about her, she’s very poorly.’ Molly banged her clenched fist down on the table. ‘Fine bloody neighbours we are! An old lady’s lyin’ in her house for three days, not able to move, an’ nobody missed her! We deserve to be hung, drawn and ruddy quartered!’

‘What did they ’ave to say at the hospital?’ asked Jack, a worried expression on his face as he leaned forward.

‘Oh, yer know what they’re like, don’t tell yer nothin’. An’ when they do yer can’t understand the words they use. From what I could make out, they’re concerned about any effect the shock of the fall might have, an’ ’er not ’avin’ anythin’ to drink or eat for three days hasn’t helped.’

Molly fell heavily on to the couch and kicked her shoes off. ‘It’s been one hell of a day, I know that much. What with Miss Bond, an’ then Miss Clegg, I’ll be glad when I’m in bed an’ the day’s over.’

‘What did Miss Bond want yer for?’

‘It was about our Jill.’ Molly’s head was splitting and she pressed her fingers to her temple. ‘She said Jill is very clever and she wants her to go to high school.’

Jack was quiet for a while, then he asked, ‘What did you say?’

‘That it was out of the question, that’s what!’ Molly shivered, her teeth clenched. ‘And don’t start, Jack, ’cos I feel bad enough about it as it is. I cried me eyes out all the way ’ome, so don’t go on about it.’

‘It’s a bloody shame, though, isn’t it? The rich get richer an’ the poor get poorer. It’s always been the same. Kids like our Jill don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell.’ Jack’s face was flushed with anger. ‘If I’d had a better education I’d be earnin’ a decent wage now, instead of the pittance I get each week.’

Molly stood up, a weary droop to her shoulders. ‘I’d better get yer socks darned or yer’ll ’ave none to wear tomorrow.’ She opened the drawer of the sideboard and took out her box of sewing materials. ‘I’ll ’ave a word with our Jill in the mornin’, she’ll understand.’

Jack stretched out his legs and clasped his hands behind his head. He was a fine-looking man, six foot tall with a shock of dark curly hair, deep brown eyes and a set of strong white teeth. ‘I’m not ’alf proud of her, she’s a credit to us.’

Molly licked the end of a piece of wool and narrowed her eyes as she threaded it through the eye of the darning needle. ‘I’d be proud of ’er even if she was as thick as two short planks, ’cos she’s as pretty as a picture and she’s got a lovely nature.’ Her head bent over her darning, she added softly, ‘I’m proud of all my kids.’

Jack had never seen his wife go so long without a smile on her face, so now he tried to coax one. ‘Our Jill gets more like you every day, yer know, love. I can remember when you wore yer blonde hair down to yer waist, just like she does. She’s as slim as you were, got the same bright blue eyes, an’ a smile that would charm the birds off the trees.’

‘I’m glad yer’ve got a good memory, Jack Bennett, ’cos things ’ave changed a bit over the years.’ Molly lifted a lock of fine hair. ‘See all the grey strands? And,’ she patted her tummy, ‘in case yer hadn’t noticed, me eighteen-inch waist disappeared years ago.’

‘You’re still a fine-lookin’ woman, Molly. I wouldn’t swap yer for any of these film stars. Not even Jean Harlow, an’ she’s me favourite.’

‘Don’t be tryin’ to soft soap me, Jack Bennett.’ Molly’s lips curved upwards in the beginning of a smile. ‘Yer like all men, think we women ’ave got nothin’ between our ears. D’yer think we don’t notice every time the young one in number sixteen comes out to clean ’er windows that half the men in the street appear from nowhere to ’old the flamin’ ladder for ’er?’

Keeping his face straight, Jack tapped a finger against his cheek. ‘Number sixteen? Now who the heck lives there?’

Molly threw the finished sock and hit him in the face. ‘Come off it, Jack, yer as bad as the rest. Yer eyes come out on sticks every time yer see ’er.’

Jack threw back his head and let out a hearty chuckle. ‘There’s no law against lookin’, lass! But I wouldn’t swap you for her, she’s too skinny for my liking. I like my woman to ’ave a bit of m