Taking a Chance on Love

by Joan Jonker

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

Synopsis

They've grown up together, laughed together and loved together. But there's one secret that hasn't been shared... Taking a Chance on Love is a captivating saga of friendship and a nostalgic look back at the Liverpool of yesteryear, from much-loved writer Joan Jonker. Perfect for fans of Dilly Court and Katie Flynn. 'Another wonderfully warm novel with characters you'd like to know' - Coventry Evening Telegraph Ginny Porter and Joan Flynn were born within days of each other in adjoining houses in a narrow street of two-up two-downs in Liverpool. They've been friends since they were toddlers and now they've become young ladies and left school. Joan finds work at Dunlop's tyre factory, while Ginny's dream comes true when she is taken on as a counter assistant at Woolworths. But things don't work out as she had expected, and she carries around a dark secret... What readers are saying about Taking a Chance on Love : 'Yet again Joan was right about needing a half box of Kleenex!! Not just for the crying but for the laughing... I love all her books and her characters are so real and the stories totally enthralling ' 'Whether in laughter, or sadness, this book had me crying all the way through. There's something about Joan Jonker's style that really appeals to me, maybe it's the way this book will appeal to everyone, or just the way the characters are so beautifully brought to life... Whichever, this book carries on the Joan tradition of writing that draws you in gently, until you can't put the book down, but have to know what happens next'

Release date: May 24, 2012

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 512

Sample

‘Mam, can I go out for a bit, to see Joan? Just for a quarter of an hour before me dad comes in?’

‘Mrs Flynn won’t want yer being in the way while she’s seeing to the dinner, sunshine.’ Elizabeth Porter shook the white tablecloth she was holding before laying it over the table and running a hand over it to smooth out the creases. ‘Whatever it is yer want to talk about, it can’t be that important it won’t wait until we’ve all had our dinners.’

‘I won’t be in Mrs Flynn’s way, Mam, ’cos I won’t go in.’ Ginny Porter was fourteen years of age and the spitting image of her attractive mother: fair hair, blue eyes, a set of white, even teeth and a slim figure. ‘Me and Joan can talk outside.’

‘It’s freezing out there, yer’d be turned to blocks of ice in five minutes.’

‘Ah, go on, Mam, yer didn’t stop our Joey from going out.’ Ginny knew her mother would see how unfair it was to treat her differently from her brother. After all, she was thirteen months older and leaving school in two weeks. ‘As soon as I see me dad walking up the street I’ll come in.’

Elizabeth, or Beth to her friends and neighbours, tutted. ‘Oh, all right, but get the knives and forks out of the drawer for me first. And when yer see yer dad, give our Joey a shout and tell him to come in pronto.’

A few minutes later, Ginny was sounding the knocker on the house next door. She was hoping to see Joan’s face, but it was Mrs Flynn who opened the door. ‘Can Joan come out for a few minutes, Mrs Flynn, just until the dinner’s ready?’ Ginny asked.

‘It’s bleedin’ freezing out there, girl, come on in.’ Dot Flynn held the door wide. ‘Hurry up, I’m letting a draught in.’

Ginny shook her head. ‘Me mam said I hadn’t got to get under yer feet, so could Joan come out, just for ten minutes?’

‘Oh, suit yerself, girl, it’s too bleedin’ cold to stand here arguing the fat. I’ll send our Joan out to yer.’ Dot was grinning as she shook her head. ‘The sooner you two leave school and get yerselves a job, the better.’

Ginny chuckled. ‘We’ve already spent our first two weeks wages, Mrs Flynn. High heels and proper stockings, those are our first priority.’

‘I would have thought yer first priority would be getting yerselves a ruddy job! Yer have to work for money, yer know, girl, it doesn’t grow on trees, worse luck.’ Mrs Flynn turned her head and shouted in a voice loud enough to wake the dead, ‘Joan, yer mate’s here! Get yerself well wrapped up ’cos it’s bitter outside.’

‘Why didn’t yer come in?’ Joan asked when she appeared, struggling into her coat. ‘Me mam doesn’t mind, yer know that.’

‘I know she doesn’t, but it’s not fair to have me hanging around when she’s busy. Anyway, it’s only for ten minutes, until me dad gets home from work.’

The two girls leaned back against the wall of the two-up-two-down terraced house, their arms crossed over their chests and their hands tucked into their armpits for warmth. ‘Have yer thought any more about what Miss Jackson said today?’ Ginny asked. ‘You know, about what sort of work we’d like to do?’

‘I mentioned it to me mam, and she said Vernon’s is a good place to work. The only trouble is, yer have to work every Saturday night and I don’t know whether I fancy that or not.’

‘Yeah, I’d thought of that,’ Ginny said, bringing out a hand to rub her nose which was beginning to feel like a piece of ice. ‘The thing is, Joan, we won’t be able to pick and choose, we might have to take what comes along. A case of like it or lump it.’

Joan had a high-pitched giggle, and it could be heard now in the silent street. ‘This is what me mam said.’ To do herself justice and really get into the part, the girl folded her arms and hitched up an imaginary bosom. ‘ “Just listen to me, my girl, and get it into that thick head of yours that not many people like their jobs, but they have to work to live. No one can live on bleedin’ fresh air and water, unless they’re a ruddy fish. Mind you, sometimes when ye’re sitting with yer mouth open, yer remind me of a fish.” ’ The impersonation was so good, Ginny was doubled up and her laughter encouraged Joan to carry on. ‘ “One of them fish what sit in the window of Harry Barlow’s fish shop. Flat out on a cold slab with its eyes and mouth wide open. Not a friend in the world and nothing to cover its modesty, poor bugger.” ’

‘She’s a scream is your mam,’ Ginny said. ‘I’m sure if we took her with us when we go for an interview she’d talk us into a job.’

‘Yeah, I can see how funny she is now. But I couldn’t when I was younger and getting a clip around the ear for giving her cheek. Ye’re dead right about her coming to the interview with us, though. They’d give us a job just to shut her up.’

Ginny saw her dad passing the gas lamp at the corner of the street and moved away from the wall. ‘I’d better get in, me dad’s on his way. And we haven’t really got any further, have we? D’yer want to come to ours tonight and we can have a good natter?’

Joan’s mind went to the fire that was roaring up their chimney, and the thought of leaving that to come out into the cold didn’t appeal, even though it was only next door. ‘No, you come to ours and I’ll show yer the scarf I’m knitting.’

Ginny had already taken to her heels and shouted back, ‘Okay, see yer later.’ She carried on running past her own front door towards the father she idolised. Clinging to his arm, she smiled up at him. ‘Hi-ya, Dad.’

‘Hello, pet!’ Andy Porter was a really handsome man. Tall and well-built, he had raven black hair, deep brown eyes, strong white teeth and a marked cleft in his chin. ‘You should be at home in front of the fire in this weather.’

‘I know! I’ve only been out five minutes and me feet are like blocks of ice.’

Andy turned his head when he heard running footsteps behind them. It was Joey, his thirteen-year-old son, and he was moving at such speed his father had no trouble guessing he was going to take a flying leap on to his back. ‘Move away, Ginny, before yer brother sends yer flying.’

Joey paced himself perfectly. He took a running jump, wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and hung on like grim death until he felt his legs being supported from behind. ‘Hi-ya, Dad, how was work?’

‘I can’t tell yer right now, son, ’cos I’m being strangled.’

‘Get down, yer big soft ha’porth,’ Ginny said. ‘Ye’re too big now to be wanting a piggy-back. Besides which, me dad’s been working all day, he’s probably tired.’

‘I’m only thirty-seven, pet, not an old man yet.’ His white teeth flashing, Andy turned his head to say to the grinning boy, ‘I just hope yer grow out of it by the time ye’re twenty-one.’

‘I’ll be as big as you then, Dad, so I can give you a piggyback.’

As they reached their house, the front door was opened and light streamed into the dark street. ‘Come on, hurry up.’ Beth shivered with the cold they brought in with them. ‘Take yer coats off and warm yerselves by the fire while I put the dinners out.’

The children elbowed each other out of the way to be first to hang up their coat, thus allowing them to nab the best speck by the hearth. But after hanging his own coat up, Andy walked through to the kitchen. His wife was spooning mashed potato on to the four plates set out on the draining board. She smiled when he slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. ‘I’d rather warm meself on you than the fire,’ he said. ‘Yer give out more heat and send a warm glow right down me whole body.’

‘Go on, yer daft nit, the dinner will be stiff if I leave it out here much longer.’ But Beth’s heartbeat raced as it always did when the man she adored touched her. She’d fallen in love with him when she was sixteen and her feelings had grown deeper with each passing year. ‘Go and have a warm while I carry these plates through.’

‘What are we having to eat, Mam? I’m starving.’ Joey sniffed up and then grinned. ‘It’s me favourite – sausage and mash. Yummy, yummy, watch out tummy.’

Beth, carrying two plates in each hand, put one down in front of each chair. ‘Anyone listening to you would think yer never got a decent meal. We might not get many luxuries but at least we’ve never gone hungry, which is more than a lot of people can say.’

Andy picked up his knife and fork and cut into one of his two sausages before glancing down the table at his wife. ‘If it ever came to the push, where we had to live on dripping sandwiches, we’d still be lucky ’cos we can feast our eyes on the prettiest mother in the whole neighbourhood.’

Ginny stopped chewing. ‘Ah, that was a lovely thing to say, Dad, it sounded dead romantic.’

Joey pulled a face. ‘Yer mean it sounded dead soppy.’

‘Wait until yer get yerself a girlfriend, son,’ Andy said, ‘then yer won’t think it’s dead soppy to say nice things to her.’

The boy spluttered. ‘Me! Get a girlfriend! I’m not ever going to have no girlfriend ’cos they never stop talking and they’re dead bossy.’

‘Thanks very much, son,’ Beth said, hiding a smile. ‘I didn’t realise I talked non-stop and was dead bossy.’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean you, Mam! I’d have you for me girlfriend, any day. Only me dad got there before me.’

Andy chuckled. ‘If I hadn’t, son, you wouldn’t be sitting here now eating yer favourite meal of sausage and mash. Yer could have ended up with a bad-tempered mother who looked like a witch, with a long hooked nose, hairs growing out of her chin and a broomstick standing under the stairs which she used to fly on every night when she went to meet other witches. She’d lock yer in yer bedroom when yer gave cheek and, on top of all that, she couldn’t cook for love nor money.’

‘Huh! I wouldn’t stay if I had a mam like that, I’d run away from home.’ Then Joey’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out how he came to have such a lovely mother instead of a witch on a broomstick. ‘How could I have . . .’

Beth could see the possibility of her son asking some awkward questions and she cut him short. ‘Can we have less talking, please, and get on with our dinner?’

‘I’m not talking, Mam, and I’ve nearly finished mine,’ Ginny said. ‘Will it be all right if I go to Joan’s after? Miss Jackson asked us today what sort of work we’d like to do when we leave, and we want to be able to tell her tomorrow instead of standing there looking stupid. That’s if we can make up our minds, like, ’cos although we’d like to work together, we might have different ideas.’

‘Yer might have to take what’s on offer, pet,’ Andy said. ‘But if yer did have a choice, what would yer like to do?’

‘I keep changing me mind, Dad! But I think I’d rather work in a shop than a factory. Still, like yer said, we might have to take whatever’s going.’

‘It would be nice if you and Joan did get taken on at the same place, love,’ Beth said, ‘’cos yer’ve been mates all yer lives. But I don’t think it’s a good enough reason for taking on a job yer don’t really fancy. After all, living next door, yer’d be seeing Joan every night, so it’s not as though it would affect yer friendship.’

‘Yer mam’s right, pet, you go for whatever yer think is best for you, and Joan can do the same. And I think it might be best, anyway, not to be in each other’s pockets all the time. At least yer’d have plenty to talk about when yer did get together.’

‘Yeah, there is that to it.’ Ginny placed her knife and fork neatly in the centre of the empty plate. ‘I’ll take this out, Mam, and put the kettle on to wash the dishes. Or would yer rather I made a pot of tea, first?’

Andy gave a quick reply. ‘Oh, tea first, pet, if yer don’t mind. I haven’t had a decent cuppa all day. I don’t know what they put in the pot at work, but it certainly doesn’t taste like tea.’

‘Tea it is, then.’ Ginny stood up and smiled at her mother. ‘You stay where yer are, Mam, I’ll see to it.’

Joey, who favoured his father in looks, gave a broad wink. ‘I bet she won’t be saying that when she starts work. She’ll expect to be waited on hand and foot.’

‘Hey, watch it, you,’ Ginny said from the kitchen door. ‘Any cheek out of you and yer can forget about the comic I promised to buy yer every week.’

But Joey knew his sister wouldn’t let him down, so he winked again. ‘See what I mean? She’s throwing her weight around already!’

Ginny filled the kettle and put it on the stove before returning to the living room. ‘I won’t be throwing me weight around, brother dear, but the comic does come with certain strings attached.’

Her brother’s eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, aye? I knew there’d be a catch in it, that it was too good to be true. What’s the strings ye’re talking about?’

‘Well, I used to run to the corner shop for our mam when she ran out of anything, so you’ll be able to do that for her. And ye’re big and ugly enough to fill the coal scuttle before yer go to school in the mornings as well.’

‘Blimey! All that for a penny comic? Oh, I’ll have to give it some careful consideration before I agree to those terms.’

‘If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t spend too much time in considering, son,’ Beth said, her face serious as though the subject was one of importance. ‘With the penny pocket-money I give yer, that means yer’d have tuppence in yer pocket every Saturday. Enough to go to a matinee at the pictures, or even buy two comics.’

Joey didn’t intend to spend too much time in consideration, but it wouldn’t do to give in too easily or his sister would be adding more chores for him to do. After all, as he’d said, girls were bossy beggars. Mind you, he didn’t need the enticement of a penny to do jobs for his mam, he’d do them anyway ’cos he loved her. Still, as he’d heard his grandma saying, ‘If yer look after the pennies, the pounds will look after themselves.’ So if there was a penny going spare, he may as well be the one to look after it. ‘Okay, Ginny, ye’re on.’

Her face deadpan, Ginny said, ‘Oh, I almost forgot. I’d like yer to clean me shoes every night for me, too.’

His eyes bulged, his jaw dropped, and the look of utter horror on the boy’s face was enough to send his parents and sister into fits of laughter. When he’d recovered enough to speak, he said through gritted teeth, ‘Yer know what you can do, don’t yer? Yer can go and take a running jump.’

‘Oh, son, if only yer could have seen yer face.’ Beth wiped away a tear of laughter. ‘It was a picture no artist could paint.’

‘We’re going to have trouble with her,’ Joey grunted, jerking his head towards his sister. ‘If she thinks I’m going to be her slave for a penny, she’s got another think coming. If she wants a slave, she should look in a second-hand shop for an old lamp, like what Aladdin had. If she gave it a good rub a genie would appear and he’d be her slave and give her three wishes.’

Ginny was shaking with laughter. ‘I don’t want yer to be me slave, Joey! I’m not that big-headed. I’ll be quite happy for yer to be me dogsbody.’

The boy’s brown eyes were twinkling with mischief and he was having a struggle to keep his face straight. ‘Mam, d’yer know what Mrs Flynn next door shouts when she’s chasing the kids away from her front door? I know I’ll get a smack if I say it, so would you do it for me? Just pretend ye’re Mrs Flynn and tell our Ginny what to do.’

‘I will not! I know I’ve told you to sod off when yer’ve been getting under me feet and I’ve been in a bit of a paddy, but it’s not ladylike and I don’t think I should be saying it to Ginny on behalf of a thirteen-year-old boy. So no, I will not tell yer sister to sod off.’

Joey gave a cheeky grin. ‘Thanks, Mam, that should do it.’

The two children were very close, and would stick together through thick and thin. All the kids in the street knew that if they picked on one of the Porter kids, they’d have the other one to reckon with. They shared many of their parents’ characteristics, one being a fine sense of humour. This came into play now as Ginny said, ‘Ay, Mam, where’s the nearest second-hand shop from here? I’d be better off with a genie who wouldn’t answer me back and wouldn’t be moaning all the time. And I’d probably get an old lamp for a couple of coppers.’

‘There’s a second-hand shop on Rice Lane, sunshine,’ Beth said. ‘I’ll have a look in there next time I’m passing.’

Andy was sitting shaking his head. ‘I don’t know who’s the daftest, ye’re all crazy.’

‘Ay, Dad, if yer think we’re crazy, yer should come with me tonight to the Flynns’ for half-an-hour. There’s never a dull moment in there with Mrs Flynn, she’s an absolute scream. And Mr Flynn and David are the same – they’re all crazy. Going in there is as good as going to the pictures to see Laurel and Hardy. They never stop laughing and talking and it’s hard to get a word in edgeways.’ Ginny heard the piercing whistle of the kettle and jumped from her chair. ‘I’ll make the tea while Joey clears the table.’

Her brother heaved a sigh. ‘See, I told yer, all girls are bossy.’ He got to his feet and began to collect the empty plates. Then he had a thought and called through to the kitchen, ‘If they never stop talking, and yer can’t get a word in edgeways, how are you and Joan ever going to tell each other where yer’d like to work?’

‘Easy-peasy,’ Ginny called back. ‘We let them get on with it while we sit on the stairs for some privacy. Yer see, Joey, where there’s a will, there’s a way.’

Dot Flynn was tall and thin, with mousy-coloured hair and hazel eyes. She was an active woman, always on the go, and she kept her house like a new pin. Although she talked a lot, and her language was sometimes very colourful, she had a heart as big as a week. She would never turn anyone away if they were in need. Like all their neighbours, the Flynns didn’t have much money, but Dot would never see anyone without a loaf in the house, or a penny for the gas meter. They were a bit better off financially now their fifteen-year-old son, David, was working, even though he earned very little as an apprentice, and Dot was happy with her lot in life, so happy and content that she was seldom seen without a smile on her face. When she opened the door to Ginny that night, she was beaming.

‘You again, is it, girl? I’m beginning to get confused into thinking I’ve got two daughters.’

Ginny grinned as she stepped into the tiny hall. ‘Me mam’s just asked me why I don’t bring me bed down.’

‘Trying to get rid of yer, is she? Well, tell her there’s no room at the inn, we’re fully booked.’ Dot closed the door and pushed the girl into the living room. ‘Joan’s down the yard, but she won’t be long ’cos it’s freezing in that lavvy.’

‘Oh, blimey, look who’s here.’ David’s long legs were stretched out in front of the fire. He was tall for his age, and a nice-looking lad with his father’s sandy hair and blue eyes. He had a happy, open face, the only flaw on it the few pimples dotted on his chin and cheeks. They were the bane of his life, a real embarrassment, and he found little consolation in his mother telling him that all lads his age suffered from them, and they’d disappear as he got older. ‘I suppose you and our Joan are going to talk the socks off each other for a few hours and we’ll get no peace.’

‘That’s no way to talk to a visitor.’ Dot pushed at his legs. ‘Get those long things out of the way and let someone else see the fire.’

The man of the house, Bill, lowered his paper. ‘Hello, love, come and get a warm and take no notice of the queer feller. Put his ignorance down to his age.’

David sat up straight. ‘Ay, I’m not ignorant!’

Ginny stood near the fire rubbing her hands. ‘No, I wouldn’t say yer were ignorant, David! It’s just that yer’ve got no manners.’

When Joan came in her nose was bright red and her teeth were chattering. ‘I wish we had an inside lavvy, Mam, like some people do. Two of the girls in our class have got a proper bathroom in their houses.’

‘Good for them, girl! And one of these days, yer never know, we might have a house with a bathroom, too! But until then, light of my life, yer’ll just have to make do with an outside lavvy and a tin bath. That’s all me and yer dad have ever known and it hasn’t done us no harm. We might have had frozen backsides a few times, but nothing more serious. Besides, while ye’re sitting on the throne out there, ye’re exposed to the elements with the door falling to pieces and ye’re getting plenty of fresh air. That’s more than yer posh friends at school get. I bet they haven’t got rosy cheeks – on their faces or their backsides.’

‘Oh, Mam, d’yer have to be so rude?’ Joan raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Honest, I’d be ashamed to take yer anywhere.’

‘Ah, what a shame, I’ve upset yer! Silly me, I keep forgetting yer have a very sensitive and delicate nature. So I’ll rephrase what I’ve just said for your benefit.’ Her arms wrapped around her thin waist, Dot struck a pose. ‘I do hope your posterior didn’t suffer from the icy winds that are inclined to blow under the door of our outside lavatory. We could, of course, repair the door, but I’m inclined to be against that idea because I believe it has its advantages. You see, if it was comfortable out there, my husband would slip down the yard when no one was looking, with the Echo tucked under his arm, and he’d sit there for hours on end, reading it from cover to cover, while we’d be running around with our legs crossed.’

Joan exchanged looks with Ginny and they both burst out laughing. But the loudest laugh came from Bill because his wife had him spot on. He enjoyed the quietness of the lavvy to read the paper in peace, and had made a habit of it. Mind you, he didn’t sit for hours, but why worry about a small detail when people were having a laugh at his expense? His wife was able to make a joke out of anything and he admired her for that. He remembered the first time he’d taken her out on a date and thought now what a pleasure it still was to be in her company. Attractive, warm and funny, it was a combination he couldn’t resist and they’d married the following year.

‘I hope the whole street haven’t been told about the Echo, the lavvy and me? Or is that why Mrs Stevenson from number three always has a grin on her face when she sees me?’

Dot chuckled. ‘Bill, ye’re the talk of Irwin’s, the butcher’s, the baker’s and the candlestick maker’s. Not to mention every wash-house from here to the Pier Head.’

Thinking, wrongly as it happened, that Mr Flynn might be feeling embarrassed, Ginny came to his aid. ‘My dad reads the Echo in the lavvy, too! But only when the weather’s warm, like, not if it’s freezing cold.’

‘I knew your dad was a man after me own heart, we seem to share a lot in common. In fact, right now I bet he’s wishing the same thing as me – that we were going to the pub for a pint.’

‘You crafty bugger, Bill Flynn!’ Dot wagged one finger. ‘Yer got that in very nicely, didn’t yer?’

‘Yer wouldn’t begrudge yer hard-working husband a pint, now would yer? It’s not as though I’m out every night drinking until the pubs close. One pint never did no one any harm.’

‘Well, if you’re going out, I’m going out. You go to the pub with Andy and I’ll sit with Beth to pass an hour away.’

David groaned. ‘Ye’re not both going out and leaving me with these two, are yer? I’ll not only be bored stiff, I’ll have an earache into the bargain ’cos they natter non-stop. I wouldn’t mind if it was anything interesting, but it’s just rubbish.’

‘It won’t be rubbish tonight, ’cos we’re going to discuss what we want to do when we leave school.’ Joan pulled tongues at her brother. ‘Just because ye’re fifteen doesn’t mean ye’re all grown up, yer know. Even though ye’re a year older than me and Ginny, it doesn’t mean to say ye’re more intelligent. I bet we could both knock spots off yer.’

‘Ginny might, but you certainly couldn’t, ye’re as thick as two short planks. Me dad asked if yer’d like him to get an application form for yer from Dunlop’s, but yer dithered and couldn’t make up yer mind. And yer’d stand a good chance of being accepted with me and me dad working there.’

‘Ooh, that would be good, Joan,’ Ginny said. ‘They’re bound to look more sympathetically at an application from an employee’s relative.’

‘Yeah, but what about you? I thought the idea was that we’d try and get a job together. That’s what we said.’

‘I know what we said, Joan, but it mightn’t be possible. Me dad said tonight we might have to take what’s on offer.’

‘And yer dad was right,’ Dot said. ‘There’s thousands of people out of work in Liverpool, mostly men with families to keep. Times are hard, and the men that have got a job are lucky. And you’re lucky, too, ’cos employers are more likely to take school-leavers on because they don’t have to pay them much in wages.’

‘You’re telling me,’ David said. ‘I get paid in buttons, even though I work as hard as the older men do.’

‘Yer’ve got a job, son, so stop moaning.’ Bill pushed himself up from the couch. ‘I’ll swill me face and then give Andy a knock.’

‘I’ll nip next door and let him know, so he can start getting ready.’ As Dot was slipping her arms into her coat, she looked at Ginny. ‘Yer know, girl, Bill could get you an application form for Dunlop’s, if yer want. Not that it means yer’d definitely get a job, but it’s worth a try.’

‘Thanks, Mrs Flynn, but I’ll see what teacher has to say tomorrow. Yer see, I quite like the idea of working in a shop if it’s possible. I don’t know if there’ll be any vacancies, not with so many of us leaving school and looking for a job, but I’d like to see what Miss Jackson has to say first.’

‘If that’s what yer fancy, girl, then you go all out for it. But it’s only three weeks to Christmas now, so yer better start putting the feelers out. As yer say, there’ll be hundreds of kids looking for work and I doubt if there’s that many jobs going. Have a talk with yer teacher tomorrow and see if she has any ideas.’ Dot had her hand on the door handle when she turned to look at her son. ‘You behave yerself, David, and don’t be giving the girls a dog’s life. Bury yer head in a book or something, and leave them to it. I’m only next door if anyone needs me for anything.’

Bill came through from the kitchen with a towel in his hand. ‘Are you still here?’

‘I’m going, I’m going, I’m going! Ta-ra!’

There was surprise on Beth’s face when she opened the door. ‘I didn’t expect to see you, I thought yer’d be curled up in front of the fire.’

‘I would have been if my feller hadn’t decided he felt like a pint.’ Dot brushed past and went into the living room. She ruffled Joey’s hair while smiling at Andy. ‘Bill will be knocking any minute to see if yer feel like going down to the pub with him.’

Andy beamed as he quickly vacated his chair. ‘I never say no to a pint, Dot, so I’d better give meself a swill before he comes.’ On his way to the kitchen he added, ‘I’m not getting changed, though, he’ll have to take me as I am.’

‘Bill’s not getting changed either, so yer’ll be in good company. And anyway, nobody goes to the pub dressed up, they’d get laughed at.’

Beth shook her head. ‘I think they want their bumps feeling, going out on a night like this. They’ll be frozen before they get there, then they’ll stand in a draughty pub drinking cold beer. They’re crazy!’

Andy put his head around the kitchen door. ‘Yer don’t begrudge me a pint, do yer, love? I mean, if yer don’t want me to go, I won’t.’

‘Oh, aye, and be the worst in the world! No, if you’re daft enough to leave a nice roaring fire, then far be it from me to stop yer.’ There was a tenderness in Beth’s eyes which belied her words. She would never begrudge her husband anything. ‘Just remember Christmas isn’t far off and yer’ll need money to buy presents, so don’t go mad. No whisky, just two pints of beer and that’s yer lot.’

‘Whisky! When have I ever bought a glass of whisky? I’m not partial to it, so I wouldn’t buy it even if I was loaded. I much prefer a glass of bitter.’

When the knock came, Andy backed into the kitchen. ‘I’ll just run the comb through me hair, then I’m ready. So there’s no need for you to leave yer warm spot, I’ll open the door to Bill and grab me coat off the peg at the same time.’

But old habits die hard, and Beth followed him to the door. ‘I’ll keep the fire going for yer and have the kettle on the boil.’

When she heard the front door close, Dot sighed and shook her head. ‘I suppose yer know that with you spoiling Andy, my feller thinks he should get the same treatment? Ye’re making all the women in the street suffer ’cos ye’re too soft with him.’

Beth used all her strength to push the heavy couch nearer to the fire. ‘I don’t know how yer have the nerve to say that, Dot Flynn! No man is more spoiled than your Bill! At least I do