Strolling With The One I Love

by Joan Jonker

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

Synopsis

When a friend's in need, the loyalty of two young mothers ensures she is not alone. A warm and comic tale from one of Liverpool's best-loved saga writers, Strolling With the One I Love sees Joan Jonker paint a heart-warming picture of life in a bygone era. Perfect for fans of Dilly Court and Cathy Sharp. 'Touching tale from Liverpool's backstreets' - Belfast Telegraph Kate Spencer and her best friend Monica Parry have enough on their plates with their boisterous families and the day-to-day running of their Liverpool homes. But the plight of a neighbour's teenage daughter is a cry for help they can't ignore... What readers are saying about Strolling With the One I Love : 'I love Joan Jonker books and I certainly was not disappointed with this one' 'I just love Joan's books ... they capture you from the first chapter, you almost feel you are there living with them, brilliant detail '

Release date: February 2, 2012

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 484

Sample

Kate Spencer lowered the gas under the pan of potatoes then turned over the sausages sizzling away in the large iron frying pan. She sniffed up in appreciation of the mouth-watering smell given out by the sliced onion she’d just added to the sausages, and speaking aloud in the tiny kitchen, said, ‘Only another five minutes, thank goodness, ’cos me tummy’s rumbling.’

Wiping her hands down the sides of her pinny, Kate made her way through the living room to the front door. The first sight that met her eyes was of two young boys kneeling in the gutter playing ollies. One of them was her ten-year-old son, Billy. ‘In the name of God, Billy, will yer get up out of there! Yer’ll be as black as the hobs of hell, and yer dad’s due home any minute.’

A face smudged with dirt looked up at her in horror. ‘Ah, ay, Mam, I’m beating Pete by two flicks! If I stop now he’ll say I haven’t won and take his bobby dazzler home. I’ve been after this ollie for two weeks now, it’s a beauty!’

His mate, who had more dirt on him than Billy, grunted, ‘We can finish the game after we’ve had our tea. Me mam’s probably looking for me anyway so I’d better go.’

This didn’t go down well with Billy, who was nearer to winning the bobby dazzler than he’d ever been. For weeks now he’d lain in bed dreaming of making the multi-coloured marble his and walking around with his chest sticking out, the envy of every lad in the street and at school. But he could see by his mam’s face that she meant business, so settled for saying, ‘As long as yer remember where we’re up to, and I’ve got two goes when we start again.’

The boys picked up their ollies and stuffed them in their pockets as they stood up. ‘Holy suffering ducks,’ Kate said, rolling her eyes towards the sky, ‘will yer just look at the state of the pair of yer! Yer’ll need a scrubbing brush to get that dirt off yer knees, it’s an inch thick. And if yer’ve ruined those trousers, Billy Spencer, so help me, I’ll clock yer one.’

Pete thought it was time to make himself scarce. ‘I’ll see yer later, Billy.’

‘I wouldn’t count on that, Pete Reynolds,’ Kate said, ‘’cos your mam will have a fit when she sees the state of yer.’ The look of dejection on their dirty faces made her smile. ‘Our coalman’s been today, and he wasn’t as black as you two.’

‘I’d better go in the back way,’ Pete said, ‘and with a bit of luck I can wash meself before me mam sees me.’ With that the boy took to his heels and disappeared down the side entry.

Billy glared at his mother. ‘Just two more goes and I’d have won that ollie. Yer should see it, Mam, it’s a beauty. Every lad in the street is after it and none of them’s got as near as I got just now. Me luck was in, and now it’s been spoilt.’

‘I’ll tell yer what, son, there’s more for yer to worry about than a ruddy ollie. If yer’ve torn those kecks then yer luck will most definitely not be in ’cos I’ll give yer a thick ear.’

‘I haven’t torn them, I’ve been careful.’ The boy shook his head in disgust. How could she think about trousers when he’d come so close to winning the pride of the neighbourhood? ‘I can’t get over being so close to winning, and then you have to come out!’ The boy scratched his head as a woebegone expression crossed his face. ‘Another two minutes and it would have been mine.’

‘If yer don’t get in this house right away, yer’ll really have something to moan about. Yer’ll be getting burnt sausages for yer dinner.’ As her son passed her, Kate patted his head. ‘Right to the sink and wash some of that dirt off yer hands and face while I rescue the sausages. And then yer can go and fetch yer sister, wherever she is.’

‘She’s in next door with Dolly, playing some daft girls’ game.’ The boy watched his mother pour hot water into a bowl for him then picked up a block of carbolic soap. ‘Ay, those sausages don’t half smell nice, Mam, how many am I getting?’

‘Ye’re getting two, as usual, and I don’t want to hear any moans from yer. There’s plenty of starving people who would gladly swap places with yer.’ Kate had an urge to kiss the boy’s dirty face, ’cos she loved the bones of him and his sister, but decided she’d wait until he’d washed. ‘Put a move on, I don’t want yer dad seeing yer like that or he’ll think I don’t look after yer properly. I’ll knock next door for Nancy.’ She got to the middle of the living room and turned back. ‘I know how many sausages there are, son, and if yer pinch one then watch out, ’cos I’ll be giving yer a thick lip to go with the thick ear I promised yer.’

Left alone, the boy grinned as he washed his hands and face. His mam was always threatening to give him a thick ear and lip, but he knew it would never happen. The most he got if he’d been really naughty was a smack across the back of his legs. And that didn’t hurt a bit, although he pretended it did. Not like getting the cane off the headmaster. Now that was something dreaded by even the toughest boys in his class. Four strokes off Mr Sykes and you couldn’t sit down for a few days. A picture of the headmaster flashed through his mind, and even that was enough to make Billy shiver. Mr Sykes was a very tall man, very well-made and very bad-tempered. He could reduce a boy to a mass of quivering jelly just by glaring at him. The best course with him was to behave yourself, keep your nose clean and try not to blot your copy book. Billy made sure he watched his behaviour at school which was why he’d only been caned once in all the time he’d been in the junior.

Kate knocked a second time on the front door of the house next door, then shouted through the letter box, ‘Are yer all deaf or something? Me dinner will be ruined at this rate.’

The door was finally opened by a woman who looked as impatient as her neighbour. ‘In the name of God, Kate, what’s yer hurry?’ Monica Parry’s mousy-coloured hair was standing on end as though she’d just run her fingers through it. ‘Yer nearly knocked the ruddy door down, and I thought the rent man had sent the bleedin’ bailiffs in!’

She was a nice-looking woman was Monica, with a slim figure and a face that was never far from a smile. But her looks couldn’t be compared with her neighbour’s. Kate Spencer had been blessed with an abundance of rich dark auburn hair which framed a face of real beauty. With her high cheekbones, clear, faultless complexion, a set of strong, even white teeth, perfectly arched black eyebrows and long curling eyelashes, she was the envy of every woman in the street and of interest to quite a few of the men.

‘If our Nancy’s here, Monica, will yer tell her to come home pronto while the dinner is still fit to eat?’ Kate saw a familiar figure walking up the street and groaned. ‘Oh, here’s John now, I’d better scarper. Be a pal and chase our Nancy home, will yer?’

‘Of course I will, girl. Are yer coming in later for a cuppa and a natter? I get fed up looking at four walls when my feller goes to the pub.’

‘I’ll see how the land lies, Monica,’ Kate shouted over her shoulder. ‘I’ll give a knock on the wall if I can get away.’

‘Do yer best, girl, or I’ll end up talking to meself, and I’ve already told meself all I know. I mean, I can only laugh so many times at me own jokes.’ Monica saw her friend disappear into the house next door then waved to the man who was coming closer. ‘All right, John? How’s the world treating yer, lad?’

‘Fair to middling, Monica, I can’t complain.’

‘I was going to say yer can complain if yer want to, John, but everyone’s got their own bleedin’ troubles and wouldn’t listen to yer. Anyway, I’ve got to chase yer daughter home or Kate will have me guts for garters. So leave the door open, save her knocking.’

Billy was sitting at the table when Kate got in, wriggling about in anticipation of the meal about to be put before him. ‘Hurry up, Mam, I’m starving.’

If he hadn’t spoken his mother would have gone straight through to the kitchen without giving him a glance. As it was she took one look at his neck before putting her hands to her mouth. ‘Oh, my God! Don’t yer ever look at yerself in the mirror when yer get washed? Yer’ve got a bigger tidemark than Seaforth Sands.’

Billy heard his dad coming in and tried to pull up his shirt collar to cover the dirt. But John had heard his wife’s words. Trying to keep back a smile, he put a hand on his son’s head and pushed it sideways, all the better to see the unmissable tidemark. ‘Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear! What have we here?’

Kate could see the twinkle in her husband’s eyes and laughed to herself as she carried on to the kitchen. Like father, like son. Her husband and Billy were as alike as two peas in a pod, with their dark blond hair and hazel eyes. Their natures were alike, too, Kate thought as she stood listening to them talk instead of draining the potatoes, and their keen sense of humour.

‘It’s a tidemark, Dad,’ Billy said, stating the obvious. ‘But I’ll have a good wash when I’ve had me dinner.’

‘A tidemark! Yer call this a tidemark? I’d have been ashamed of meself at your age if that was the best I could come up with. Why, my tidemarks would have knocked yours into a cocked hat!’

Billy cheered up. ‘And did your mam tell yer off, and make yer use a scrubbing brush to get rid of the dirt?’

Kate was back in the living room like a shot, wagging a stiffened finger. ‘Don’t you be making a joke of it, John, ’cos it’s not funny. You side with him and he’ll never wash his neck again.’ She tapped Billy on his nose. ‘It’s the tin bath in front of the fire for you later, me laddo. Yer dad can carry it in from the yard after we’ve had our dinner.’

‘Ah, ay, Mam! I’m too big to be getting in that thing with all of yer watching! I’ll give meself a good wash in the kitchen, I promise.’

‘Yer don’t have to worry about me watching yer,’ the young girl standing in the doorway said, ‘I don’t want to give meself nightmares.’

Kate grinned across at her twelve-year-old daughter. Nancy had inherited her mother’s features and colouring, but her beauty had yet to blossom. ‘You and me will make ourselves scarce, eh, sunshine? We’ll nip next door for an hour, so Billy can have some privacy.’

Nancy grinned. ‘I beat yer to it, Mam, ’cos I’ve already told Dolly I’ll have a game of Snakes and Ladders with her.’

‘That’s settled then. Now perhaps I can get the dinner out. It’s a wonder the sausages haven’t got fed up waiting and walked out of the frying pan on their own.’

John slipped his work coat off and hung it on a hook in the narrow hall. ‘I’m ready for a plate of sausage and mash, I’m starving.’ He winked at his son to let him know that what he was about to say was only teasing. ‘And it’ll give me the strength to stand the sight of me son in his nakedness without fainting with shock.’

‘Ay, don’t yer be making fun of my kid brother,’ Nancy said, giving Billy a hug as she passed his chair. ‘When he gets older he’ll be as big and strong as Tarzan. And to make sure he gets plenty to eat, I’m going to give me mam a hand with the dinner. Sit yerself down, Dad, and I’ll wait on yer.’

‘I’ll have to wash me hands first, pet, otherwise I’ll get a go-along off yer mam for sitting at the table with dirty hands.’

Billy’s shoulders shook with laughter. ‘She’ll make yer get in the tin bath after I’ve been in. Wouldn’t that be funny?’

Kate came in carrying a plate in each hand. ‘It would be more than funny to see yer dad getting in that tin bath, son, it would be hilarious.’ She put the two plates down and chuckled at the look on her husband’s face. ‘In fact, I could sell tickets to the neighbours and make meself a few coppers.’

‘Yer’d make more than a few coppers!’ John rose to his full height and pushed his face close to his wife’s. ‘There’s women in this street would pay at least a tanner to see my fine physique. And they’d queue up a second time.’

‘If they did, it would only be because they didn’t believe what they saw the first time. Yer’ve got legs like knots in cotton, sunshine, and there’s no getting away from it.’ Kate gave him a playful push. ‘Get those hands under the tap, love, and then perhaps we can sit down to eat in peace.’

‘Ay, Mam,’ Billy said. ‘These sausages are talking to me and they’re not in a very good temper, either!’

‘Neither would you be, son, if you’d been frying away for an hour in hot fat. Even sausages have feelings, yer know.’

‘One of these is dead bad-tempered, it’s just spat at me.’

‘Well, yer know what to do.’ Nancy put her plate down on the table and pulled out the chair next to her brother’s. ‘Stick yer fork in it and that will shut it up.’

Alone in the kitchen with his wife, John put his arms around her waist. ‘How about a nice, long passionate kiss?’

‘Let me go, yer daft nit, or the kids will hear yer.’ Kate had a plate in her hand and she held it aloft. ‘This is your dinner, and yer’ll get it on yer head if yer don’t behave yerself.’ She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. ‘There’s a place for long passionate kisses and it’s not a kitchen smelling of fat.’

‘I don’t know why ye’re whispering, Mam,’ Nancy called. ‘Me and our Billy can hear every word ye’re saying. He’s just asked me what the difference is between a kiss like yer give us, and a passionate kiss?’

Kate slipped from her husband’s arms and carried the plate through. ‘Well, son, ye’re ten years of age now, I reckon it’ll be seven or eight more before yer know the difference. Yer see, it’s not something yer can put into words, yer have to experience it for yerself.’

The boy gave a grunt of disgust. ‘Ugh! I bet it’s sloppy, and sloppy things make me want to be sick.’

‘Just eat yer dinner for now, then, sunshine, and leave the sloppy things for the next seven or eight years.’ Kate speared a piece of sausage ready to put in her mouth. ‘I can’t wait until yer get your first girlfriend, that should be very interesting. At least it will be for me, I can’t speak for the poor girl. It might be a case of one kiss and she’ll take off and yer’ll never see her again.’

Then with all the experience of his ten years, Billy curled his top lip and said, ‘Well, let her take off, it won’t worry me.’

Nancy couldn’t resist joining in. ‘Let who take off, Billy?’

‘The girl me mam said would take off and I’d never see her again.’

John decided to add his twopennyworth. ‘Which girl was this, son?’

Now Billy didn’t like girls, nor did he like sloppy things. But he did like a good laugh. ‘I don’t know, Dad, I didn’t even have time to get a proper look at her. She gave me a kiss and then was off before I could even ask her name!’

Next door, Monica jerked her head towards the wall. ‘Can yer hear them laughing? Kate’s coming in later, I’ll have to ask her what the joke was.’

‘Oh, Nancy’s coming in as well,’ said Dolly, her daughter and only child. ‘We’re going to play Snakes and Ladders.’

‘I think I’ll poppy off to the pub then,’ said Tom, the man of the house. ‘I’ll get out from under yer feet.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Monica rested her knife and fork. ‘Anyone would think yer were being chased out of yer own house, when the truth is yer go to the ruddy pub every night! In fact, I’m of the firm opinion that if yer missed going one night, the bleeding landlord would come knocking for yer!’

‘Now come on, my love,’ Tom laughed. ‘Aren’t yer exaggerating a bit? I don’t go every night, so don’t be giving me a bad name.’

‘Apart from the odd times yer take me to the pictures, and that’s under protest, yer go to the pub every single night without fail.’

Tom shook his head. ‘No, love, I do not, and I can prove it. Have yer forgotten that none of the pubs is open on Christmas Day?’

Next door, Kate said, ‘Listen to Monica laughing. She’s got a real belly laugh and it always makes me chuckle. It sounds as though she’s got something funny to tell me when I go in. I hope so, I just feel like a good laugh.’ She raised her eyebrows at her husband. ‘I don’t know why yer don’t go for a pint with Tom, he’s good company. Yer used to go out with him, but yer haven’t been for ages.’

John shook his head. ‘No, I’d rather put me sixpence on a horse. At least yer stand a chance of winning a bit back, but with a pint of beer yer money’s gone and yer’ve got nothing to show for it.’

‘Oh, ye’re not gambling, are yer, love? I thought yer had more sense than that. It’s a mug’s game, with the bookie the only winner. And another thing, yer know it’s not legal and yer could get into trouble with the police.’

‘I wouldn’t get into trouble, love, it would be the bookie. But I don’t even see him ’cos one of the blokes in work puts the bets on for all the lads.’ John could see this wasn’t making his wife feel any better, so he added, ‘It’s only a tanner, love, and yer never know, I might win a few bob and then yer can buy something new for you and the kids.’

‘Aye, and pigs might fly!’ Kate wasn’t a bit happy about it as her own father had been a compulsive gambler, and there were times when he was keeping so much back out of his wages to pay the bookie that her mother was left without enough money to pay the rent man. Memories of her crying were still fresh in Kate’s mind, even though she’d been young at the time. But she couldn’t imagine John being as reckless as her father, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her or the children. ‘Just don’t ever come to me and tell me ye’re in debt, sunshine, ’cos I couldn’t stand it.’

Kate could feel the children’s eyes on her and was sorry she hadn’t kept quiet until she and her husband were alone. It wasn’t fair on the kids, they were too young to understand. So she put a smile on her face. ‘Anyway, if yer do win any money, I could do with a new sideboard. That one’s seen better days and is falling to bits.’

John’s smile came with a sigh of relief. ‘Okay, a sideboard it is, sweetheart. Your every wish is my command.’

As Billy listened to this, he was worried at first because his mam appeared to be upset. But she was smiling now, so he felt it was all right to say what was on his mind. ‘Mam, have yer forgotten about me game of ollies? It’ll be dark by the time you and our Nancy go out and I have that blinking bath. Too dark to play ollies.’

‘Yer don’t imagine for one moment that I’d let yer go out and get yerself filthy again, just after yer’ve had a bath? Not on yer life, sunshine! Pete can hold on to his bobby dazzler until tomorrow, nothing’s going to happen to it before then.’

‘That’s what you think!’ Billy looked glum. ‘Half the lads in the street are after that ollie, and they’ll be knocking on his door right now and asking for a game.’

‘But Pete is yer best mate. He won’t break his promise to let yer carry on where yer left off.’

‘Being his mate doesn’t mean a thing, Mam! If some lad offers him ten marbles for that bobby dazzler, he’ll take them, friend or no friend.’

Nancy leaned forward to look her brother in the face. ‘Is that what you’d do, Billy? Break a promise to yer best friend?’

Now he was in a quandary. This was definitely a no-win situation. That is it was a no-win situation until out of nowhere came a flash of brilliance. ‘It’s not me we’re talking about, it’s Pete. And it’s not any old ollie, either! If that bobby dazzler was mine, I wouldn’t even play with it, never mind letting anyone win it off me. I’d keep it wrapped in a hankie in me pocket, and show off with it.’

‘Then why do yer think Pete should let you win it?’ John asked. ‘When yer wouldn’t even let him play for it if it was yours? Not very sporting that, is it, son?’

Billy wasn’t a bit put out. He didn’t worry whether he was sporting or not. ‘Dad, haven’t yer ever heard them say that all’s fair in love and war?’

John couldn’t keep the chuckle back. ‘I have heard that, son, of course I have. But I don’t think it applies in this case. Yer see, ye’re not in love and there is no war!’

Billy’s face split into a wide grin. ‘I’ve got yer there, Dad, ’cos I am in love. I love me mam, you, our Nancy, and that blinking marble what’s coming between me and me sleep.’

‘There’s one good thing,’ his sister said. ‘At least he put us all before the marble.’

Monica pushed the couch nearer to the fire. ‘We may as well make ourselves comfortable and warm. The girls are all right at the table, we won’t be in each other’s way.’

Dolly pushed her counter across the board to the bottom of one of the ladders. ‘As long as yer don’t keep gabbing and putting us off our game.’

‘Ah, well, wouldn’t that be just too bad?’ Monica pulled a face. ‘It’s not us what make the noise, it’s you two. Yer should hear yerselves screaming when the throw of a dice takes yer to the top of a ladder. Anyone would think yer’d won the pools. And when yer lose and have to come down again, well, the groans are unmerciful.’

Nancy giggled. ‘We’ll try to groan quietly, then, Auntie Monica.’

‘You do that, girl, while me and yer mam have a natter. I’ll make us a cuppa a bit later on, ’cos it’s not long since we had one after our dinner.’

The two mothers watched their daughters playing for a few minutes, smiling indulgently as expressions changed at the toss of a dice. Then they settled one at either end of the couch with their feet tucked under them. After a quick glance to make sure the girls were intent on the game, Monica said softly, ‘Ay, have yer heard about Betty Blackmore? You know, her what lives at the back with number twenty-eight painted in white on the entry door?’

‘Of course I know Betty, she’s the one who knocked on the door the day we moved in to ask if we’d like her to make us a pot of tea. I’ve never forgotten that ’cos I thought it was really nice of her.’ Kate raised her eyebrows. ‘Why d’yer ask, is she not well or something?’

‘Out of her mind, more like it.’ Again Monica cast a quick glance over to the girls at the table. This was definitely not something for young ears. ‘Her daughter Margaret is expecting a baby.’

‘Go ’way, I didn’t think she was married! She’s only about seventeen, isn’t she?’

‘Right on both counts, girl! She is only seventeen, and no, she isn’t married. Betty is out of her mind with worry.’

Kate gasped. ‘She must be, the poor woman! But the girl must have a boyfriend, so why couldn’t they just get married without any fuss? It would stop the wagging tongues and sly glances.’

‘There’s a bit of a problem there, girl, I’m afraid. Yer see, the girl hasn’t got a boyfriend. I was talking to Betty in the entry before, and the poor woman is so ashamed she can hardly look yer in the face. Apparently the boy who put her daughter in the family way lives a few streets away, and Margaret had only been out with him twice. Betty went around to see his parents as soon as she knew, but the lad denied everything, said he’d never laid a finger on her. And when Mr Blackmore went around to have it out with the lad’s father, I believe it came to blows. The parents chased him off and told him not to be spreading rumours about their son.’

Kate let out a deep sigh. ‘What a mess! How old is this boy?’

‘He’s nineteen, and according to what his mother told Betty, he’s never had a proper girlfriend. He admits to going to the pictures twice with Margaret, even said he’d kissed her, but nothing more than that.’

‘And d’yer think he might be telling the truth?’ Kate asked. ‘Perhaps Margaret has been with another bloke but is too frightened to say. It wouldn’t be the first time a lad got the blame for something he hadn’t done.’

‘Oh, I don’t think that’s likely, ’cos she’s very shy, is Margaret, she wouldn’t say boo to a goose.’

Kate pulled a face. ‘She can’t be that shy if she’s got herself pregnant. But whichever way it goes it’s the parents that’ll be left to shoulder the shame of the daughter, and the responsibility of bringing up the child. It’s not a position I’d like to find meself in.’

‘Me neither! But she’s well liked is Betty, and the neighbours will rally round. They’ll not turn their back on her.’

‘I should think not! After all, it could happen to anyone. Yer know the old saying, “There but for the grace of God go I”? Well, it’s certainly true in this case.’

Monica leaned closer. ‘I’d kill our Dolly if she brought that kind of trouble to me door. I’d never be able to lift me head up in the street.’

‘I hope it never does happen to yer, sunshine, but if it did, yer’d just have to get on with it. Like Betty’s going to have to do. As yer say, her friends won’t desert her, and those that do were never true friends in the first place and not worth losing any sleep over. Anyway, like everything else, it’ll be a nine days’ wonder and then something else will come along to take people’s minds off it.’ Kate cupped her chin in her hand. ‘If I was in Betty’s shoes I’d do me damnedest to find out who the father is, though. I couldn’t go through life not knowing. Whoever he is, good or bad, he’s the child’s father and should come forward so the poor mite isn’t born illegitimate. That’s a terrible stigma for an innocent child to have to shoulder all through his life.’

‘I know, it’s lousy for the poor kid.’ Monica’s serious expression didn’t sit well on a face which was usually creased in a smile. ‘I feel sorry for the baby already.’

‘Who d’yer feel sorry for, Mam?’ Dolly asked, causing the women to sit up straight and wonder how much the girls had heard. ‘Is someone’s baby sick?’

‘What are yer on about?’ Monica was racking her brains for an answer. ‘Yer must be hearing things ’cos I never mentioned no baby, did I, Kate?’

Kate shook her head and crossed two fingers. She didn’t like telling lies but right now there was no alternative. ‘Yer mam said lady, sunshine, not baby. We were just talking about a woman we meet at the shops who hasn’t been well lately.’

‘Well, what about the cup of tea yer promised us an hour ago, Mam?’ Dolly kept half an eye on Nancy to make sure she didn’t cheat. ‘The woman won’t get any better by you not giving us a cuppa. Besides, me throat is parched.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Monica said, uncurling her legs. ‘Yer’ve shouted yerself hoarse, and it’s a wonder next door haven’t knocked to complain about the noise.’

Dolly pointed to the far wall. ‘The neighbours that way have gone to the pictures and the house is empty. And these two aren’t likely to complain, are they?’ Her grin widened. ‘Especially when they get a cup of tea and a gingersnap.’

Monica tutted as she passed her daughter’s chair. ‘Cheeky article! I don’t know what sort of a mother yer’ve got, girl, but she wants to try teaching yer a few manners.’

Kate stood on the front step watching Billy ambling up the street with his mate Pete. At the rate they were going, they’d never make the school gates before the bell rang. And it was her son’s fault because his head was nodding and his mouth was working fifteen to the dozen. She’d bet any money he was giving his mate a hard time about that ruddy ollie, he seemed to be obsessed with the thing.

Folding her arms, Kate leaned back against the door jamb. It was a performance every morning trying to get her son out of the house on time, and she thanked her lucky stars she didn’t have the same difficulty with Nancy. Her daughter was no trouble at all in the mornings, getting herself washed and dressed before having her breakfast. And there was no need to check her neck for tidemarks, or make sure her shoes weren’t covered in scuff marks.

Kate waited until the boys had turned the corner, then looked up at the sky. It was clear blue, not a dark cloud in sight. ‘It’s a good day for getting clothes washed and dried,’ she muttered aloud as she stepped into the hall. ‘I can have them blowing on the line before Monica calls to go to the shops.’

The kitchen of the two-up-two-down was so small Kate barely needed to move her feet. Her movements quick and efficient from long practice, she filled a large black iron pan with water and set it on the gas stove next to the kettle. ‘Now, where did I put the ruddy matches?’ She spied them on the shelf and soon had the two gas rings lit. Then she pulled the dolly tub into the centre of the floor and attached one end of a piece of hose to the cold-water tap, and let the other end hang over the dolly tub. ‘Now, while I’m waiting for the water to boil, I may as well make the beds and gather up any clothes that need washing.’ Kate thought nothing of talking to herself, she did it all the time. She said it made her feel she wasn’t alone, that there was someone in the house with her. Someone who didn’t answer back.

Halfway up the shallow stairs, Kate suddenly came to a halt and slapped an open palm to her forehead. ‘You stupid bugger, yer’ve got no soap powder in!’ S