A FAMILY’S HEARTBREAK
Kitty Neale

Copyright

Published by AVON

A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2019

Copyright © Kitty Neale 2019

Cover design by Debbie Clement © HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

Cover photographs © Gordon Crabb (figure), Allan Cash Picture Library/Alamy Stock Photo (background)

Kitty Neale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008270919

Ebook Edition © August 2019 ISBN: 9780008270926

Version: 2019-07-01

Dedication

For my dear friend, Elly Sayers.

This is dedicated to you and your lovely mum, Lynda Shaw, who is an avid reader of my books.

Elly – We’ve made such wonderful memories together and I’m looking forward to sharing many more special moments with you. You’re an incredible woman, Smelly, and I love you loads!

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

By the Same Author

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

London, Balham, 1961

Jenny Lombard chewed nervously on her thumbnail as she listened to her parents arguing again. They were in the living room with the door ajar, while in the hall and out of sight, Jenny hovered close by. Her mother Lizzie had walked out on them, but still had a habit of dropping in now and then. When she did, all hell would inevitably break loose.

‘What ’ave I told you about coming round here if and when the mood takes you?’ her father yelled.

‘They’re my kids, Henry, and I’ve got every right to see ’em!’ her mother answered defiantly.

Jenny was a grown woman of twenty-two but as she looked through the crack of the door she felt like a child again. She could see her mother sitting on the sofa cradling Peter, aged six, the youngest of Jenny’s four siblings. He had untidy fair hair, and his blue eyes, wide with fear, made his complexion look paler than normal. Jenny wanted to run into the room to comfort him but, scared of her father, she remained rooted to the spot.

‘You’ve no rights! You lost them when you took off with your fancy man, and what’s happened to him, eh? I hear he’s dropped you like a ton of bricks ’cos he knows what an old tart you are.’

‘I ain’t listening to this, and neither should Peter,’ she spat, and, kissing her son quickly on his forehead, put him to one side before abruptly rising to her feet.

With no time to react, it was too late to run out of sight, and as the door flew open Jenny found herself face to face with her mother.

‘Earwigging again, Jenny? Well, I hope you heard every word that pig of a father of yours said to me. I’m sick to the back teeth of it, slagging me off when all I want to do is see you kids.’

Jenny’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but no words came. She wanted to throw herself at her mother’s feet and beg her not to leave again. She knew the moment the front door closed behind her mum, she, or one of her siblings, would bear the brunt of their father’s anger.

‘Get out of my way, girl,’ her mother said, tutting as she brushed Jenny aside to head for the front door. ‘I’m wasting my breath here.’

Jenny heard her father’s heavy footsteps on the linoleum floor. He was coming her way! She pressed her bony back against the hallway wall and breathed in, trying to make herself as thin as possible. If she could have, she would have merged into it. She’d once stood in the way when her father was chasing her mother, only to be aggressively shoved to one side. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Wishing she was invisible, Jenny trembled, but thankfully her father dashed past her.

Just as her mother opened the street door, he grabbed her by her long blonde hair and yanked her backwards. ‘Lizzie, get back in here, you bitch, and see to your child,’ her father ordered harshly.

It was only then that Jenny heard Peter wailing, and she rushed from the hallway to comfort her brother, leaving her parents fighting by the front door. Peter’s face was screwed up as tears streamed down his cheeks. ‘It’s all right, love, I’ve got you,’ Jenny said soothingly as she scooped him into her arms.

She could hear her parents still screeching obscenities at each other and had no doubt all the curtains in the street would be twitching, whilst some neighbours would be on their doorsteps. They were used to hearing them fighting – after all, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence – but they were a nosy lot on her street.

‘I want my mummy,’ Peter cried.

Jenny sat on the sofa and pulled the boy closer to her, burying his head in her chest. ‘I know you do, sweetheart,’ she said, but couldn’t find any words of condolence to offer. She wouldn’t lie to him and tell him Mummy would be back soon, as the chances were she wouldn’t. She couldn’t tell him everything was going to be all right. It never was, not after their mother had visited. All she could do was protect the child from their father’s fury, and offer herself up for a beating, a sacrifice for him to vent his frustrations on.

Henry slammed the front door with such force, it felt like the house shook. Lizzie had broken free from his grip and refused to come back in to see to Peter. He stormed into the lounge, furious with his estranged wife. He hated that two years ago she’d left him high and dry with five kids to look after. Worse still, the slag had showed him up in front of his mates by dumping him for another man. The humiliation of it! And yet Lizzie still had the audacity to return home on a whim and demand to see her children. Well, he wasn’t going to stand for it again. As far as Henry was concerned, if she wasn’t at home to look after her kids, then she could go take a running jump. Not that he would have taken her back. He loved Lizzie and probably always would, but she’d burned her bridges the moment she’d jumped into bed with Lesley Harrington. Of all the blokes she could have chosen, why Lesley bloody Harrington? He’d never get his head round that one. The man was a right ugly git, and a sly bugger.

Henry paced the floor, pulling at his hair as tortured thoughts of his wife raced through his mind. Images of Lizzie cavorting with Lesley teased him, keeping him awake at night and interrupting his day. He couldn’t stand it – it was driving him to the brink of insanity, and whenever she came to the house, he’d feel his fury spill over.

Peter’s gasping, juddering sobs shook him free of his thoughts and he snapped his head around to look at the boy. Jenny was holding him close, but he noticed Peter’s eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and his nose was snotty. This was Lizzie’s fault, he thought, clenching his fists in anger. His wife’s visits always upset the whole household.

‘I want my mummy,’ Peter cried again.

Henry’s hackles rose further at the sound of his youngest son whingeing for his good-for-nothing mother. She didn’t do anything for the boy, so why on earth would he cry for her? She’d coldly walked out on her children, yet they all hankered after her. It riled Henry that they couldn’t see her for what she was, and in his temper he picked up an empty whiskey glass and launched it across the room. The glass shattered as it hit the wall above the sofa, showering Jenny and Peter with tiny fragments. Peter screamed, and Jenny flinched, inciting Henry even further. ‘Get that fucking kid out of my sight,’ he yelled, spittle flying as his mouth foamed like a rabid dog’s.

Jenny scrambled to her feet, the boy clutching her, and scuttled towards the door. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he demanded and reached out to grab his daughter’s arm.

Jenny didn’t fight back; she wasn’t like her mother. As he felt her body go limp, he released her, and as she crumpled to the floor she pushed Peter towards the door, hissing urgently, ‘Run, Peter, run.’

The boy didn’t need telling twice and scampered from the room as Jenny, still on her knees, turned submissively towards him, her eyes lowered. Henry leaned forward until his face was just inches from the top of his daughter’s head. His stomach churned as he looked at her fine ginger hair, and he wondered again where she’d inherited it from. He was dark, the same as his other daughters, Gloria and Pamela. His wife had blonde hair, which was so light it looked almost white. His sons, Peter and Timmy, took after their mother, blonde and blue-eyed. But this one, Jenny, his eldest, with her bright orange hair and freckles splattering her face, she didn’t look anything like a Lombard, and Henry wondered if he had a cuckoo in his nest.

Jenny kept her head down and avoided eye contact with her father. Experience had taught her that if she looked at him, he’d take it as defiance and beat her twice as badly. She held her breath in a futile bid to stop her body from shaking. He seemed to find her fear repulsive and would use it as another excuse to hit her harder. She felt she couldn’t win.

‘Look at me,’ her father sneered.

Jenny slowly lifted her head to find herself staring into her father’s dark eyes. Her heart sank. They were cold, hard, and his mouth was twisted in anger. When he was in this mood she knew that no amount of crying or pleading would touch him. It was as if he was a man possessed, and she silently cursed her mother for turning him demonic again.

‘I suppose you want your mother too?’

Her father’s voice was filled with hatred, and she tried not to recoil as his saliva splattered her face, smelling of stale alcohol. ‘No,’ Jenny answered in a whisper, almost paralysed with terror at what was coming.

‘You’re a liar – just like her!’

Jenny saw her father’s arm pull back, and his clenched fist coming towards her. She closed her eyes as he punched her on the side of her head. Pain seared through her skull, and the force of the blow knocked her sideways. Instinctively, she curled into a foetal position and waited for her father to put the boot in. Her head throbbed, and though her eyes were shut tightly, she knew the room was spinning.

‘Your mother’s a whore! Nothing but a dirty scumbag whore!’

She felt the kick between her shoulder blades. It hurt, but it could have been worse. At least he didn’t have his work boots on, but her relief was short-lived as the next couple of kicks jarred her body. She laid motionless and waited, praying he’d had his fill and would leave her alone. At least the kids are upstairs out of harm’s way, she thought through a haze of pain. Then, to her relief, she heard her father walking away. She kept her eyes closed, aware of sounds, and realised he must have put his boots on when she heard his heels coming down hard on the hallway floor, followed by the sound of the front door slamming shut.

Gloria, who was sixteen, had been huddled on the bed that she shared with thirteen-year-old Pamela. She hated top-and-tailing with her sister as Pamela would often wet the bed, especially after their dad had one of his rages. Gloria rolled her eyes, knowing she would wake up later tonight in the warmth of Pamela’s urine.

Peter had thrown himself at Pamela when he’d come running upstairs, while Timmy, at nine the older of the two boys, ran to Gloria. When the front door slammed she peeled Timmy from her and put a finger to her lips to shush them. Then they all tiptoed to the top of the stairs.

Gloria whispered to the others to stay where they were as she began to creep downstairs. If he was still in the house, the last thing she wanted was to attract her father’s attention, and she stepped over the fourth stair down, knowing it creaked. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder to see her brothers and sister waiting nervously at the top for her to give them the all-clear.

Almost halfway down, Gloria could see over the banisters and into the open living room door. She gasped, though she wasn’t shocked to see Jenny looking dazed and picking herself up from the floor. Once again, her sister had taken a hiding from their dad. Thankfully, there was no sign of him now and though Gloria detested seeing her sister being hurt, she was relieved it wasn’t her.

‘He’s gone,’ Gloria called back to her siblings as she ran down the rest of the stairs and into the lounge. ‘Oh, Jenny, are you OK?’ she asked, concerned, as she scanned her sister for cuts and bruises.

‘Yes, I think so,’ Jenny answered, though she appeared wobbly on her feet.

‘I hate him!’ Gloria spat as she helped Jenny towards the sofa. Then she noticed the small slivers of broken glass and instead led her sister to the table and four chairs in the bay window. ‘It ain’t fair that he always takes it out on us.’

‘I know, love, but try and be a little charitable. He’s doing his best,’ Jenny said and winced as she rubbed the side of her head.

‘Charitable! He’s just knocked you about again and you’re suggesting I should be charitable! You’re too blinkin’ nice, you are. Ain’t you angry about it?’ Gloria asked, shocked at Jenny’s response. She’d never understand her elder sister. Jenny was so quiet, and whenever she did say anything, it was never horrid. In fact, she couldn’t remember a time when Jenny had lost her rag, or even raised her voice.

‘Yes, Gloria, of course I’m angry, but I’ve got to control it. If I don’t I’ll be as bad as him. Where’s Timmy and Peter? Are you all right, boys?’

Timmy spoke first. He was a confident lad, the joker of the family, and though it was probably a brave front, he never seemed to be too badly affected by his father’s violent outbursts, except at night when the bad dreams would come. ‘Yeah, I’m all right, Sis. Did our dad whack you again?’

Gloria answered for Jenny. ‘Yes, he did, the ’orrible so and so. Pam, go and make Jenny a cup of tea. You two, your sister needs a bit of peace and quiet so get back up to your room, there’s good boys.’

‘Come on, Peter, I’ve got a new spider and I’ve made him a house. I’ll show you,’ Timmy said, before running from the room with his younger brother closely following.

Gloria pulled out a chair from the teak table and sat opposite Jenny. ‘I think we should have a word with Mum, you know, tell her not to keep coming round here like she does. If she wants to see us, we can go to her.’

Jenny drew in a long breath before she spoke. ‘The trouble is, you know what Mum’s like. If you tell her not to do something, she’ll be all the more determined to do it. And as for us going to see her, it’s a nice idea, Gloria, but she’s always on the move. I don’t know where she is from one month to the next, or what sort of bloke she might be living with.’

‘Well, the next time she shows her face, I’m going to say something to her. It ain’t right that one of us, mainly you, gets it in the neck every flippin’ time she comes around. I dread it. Don’t get me wrong, she’s our mum and I love her, but I’d rather not see her again than go through this each time.’

Pamela came into the room carrying a tray of tea. Both sisters looked at her as the china cups rattled in the saucers. Though she’d tried to hide it, they could see she’d been crying again.

‘Don’t upset yourself,’ Jenny said softly, ‘Mum ain’t likely to show her face again for a few weeks and Dad will have calmed down by the time he gets home.’

‘More like had a bloody skinful,’ Gloria said as she shook her head.

Pamela placed the tray on the table and jumped when she heard a car door slam. ‘I’ll get the broom,’ she said quietly, looking at the glass covering the sofa.

Gloria watched her sister scuttle off. Pamela was so thin and lived on her jangled nerves. Maybe she should be nicer to her and stop having a go about her bedwetting. It might make a difference, she thought. When Pamela returned, Gloria said, ‘I was just saying to Jenny that it would be better if Mum didn’t come here to see us.’

Pamela nodded, but didn’t seem to be really listening. She was peering out of the window, obviously looking for their father, and by the way she was poised Gloria thought she was ready to sprint back upstairs if she saw him.

Gloria turned to Jenny. ‘Do you know where Mum is now?’

‘No, but she’s not with what’s-his-face. I heard Dad say that he’d dropped her like a ton of bricks. I’ll pop in to see Gran later, see if she knows anything.’

Gloria tutted. ‘Knowing Mum, she’s probably got some other bloke on the go and is shacking up with him.’

Jenny’s lips tightened, but she didn’t answer. Gloria knew her sister didn’t like it when she was derogatory about their mother, but for once she didn’t chastise her.

‘Can I come to see Gran with you?’ Pamela asked Jenny in an unsteady voice.

‘Yes, all right, love,’ Jenny told her.

Gloria was barely listening as her thoughts turned to her dad. She wished him dead and imagined sticking the bread knife in his chest whilst he slept. He’d turned Pamela into a bag of nerves, Peter was always crying, Timmy had nightmares and Jenny was covered in bruises. She couldn’t blame her mother for their father’s vehement mood swings. He’d always been like it for as far back as she could remember, only it was her mum that used to get slapped about, not them. Maybe if he’d been a better husband, she wouldn’t have walked out on them. Gloria wished she could do the same, just walk away and leave the bloody lot of them to it.

Chapter 2

Lizzie Lombard strode purposefully down Boundaries Road, thankful to put some distance between her and the three-bedroomed council house Henry lived in. It was her house too, her children lived there, and as far as she was concerned Henry had no bloody right to throw her out of it. But she was no match for his ferocious temper and knew that when Henry was in one of ‘those moods’, it was best to stay out of his way.

A car honked its horn as it passed her, which instantly put a smile back on Lizzie’s face. She enjoyed the attention she commanded from men, and though she’d recently celebrated her forty-second birthday, she prided herself on her looks. She wasn’t one of those old fuddy-duddy middle-aged women who dressed identically to their mothers. She liked the latest fashions and thought the new hemline, an inch above the knee, showed her shapely legs at their best. She’d heard women call her mutton dressed as lamb, but she put it down to their jealousy.

As she headed towards Balham High Road, her wavy blonde hair bounced up and down in time with her confident stride and sashaying slender hips. Earlier that morning, she’d put some lemon juice in her hair, and now, as the April sun shone on it, she hoped it would soon be a shade lighter. Roy liked her hair. He had complimented her on it many times. He said it was the blondest he’d ever seen and that it framed her heart-shaped face perfectly. She’d been seeing Roy Gumble for two weeks now, though she hadn’t admitted to him that he was sixteen years her junior. In fact, he was only four years older than her Jenny.

Lizzie passed under the railway bridge into Chestnut Grove and stopped at the sweetshop to buy Roy’s favourite, Barratt’s Sherbet Fountain. It amused her that he liked the childish sweet, and that he liked to share it with her. She took pleasure in seductively teasing him. He would react to anything suggestive and watch with desire as she’d suck the sherbet from the liquorice stick. They’d met in the ABC Café where she’d been sipping a glass of Coca-Cola. She’d spotted Roy watching her from a table opposite, and as she had lifted her lips from the glass, she’d lasciviously licked them. Roy’s jaw had dropped, and a few cheeky grins later he’d joined her. Soon afterwards he asked her out.

It was past noon, and the High Road was busy with shoppers milling around, though she guessed Roy would probably be just about waking up. They’d had a late night, and she smiled at the memory of their lovemaking when they’d returned home. Despite that, Lizzie had woken early, and if Roy questioned where she’d been it would be an easy lie to tell him she’d been up the market.

‘It’s me,’ Lizzie called as she let herself into Roy’s flat above the ironmonger’s. All the curtains were drawn, blocking out the bright sunshine and leaving the place in darkness.

‘Come and give me a cuddle,’ Roy shouted from the bedroom.

Lizzie smiled wryly. She knew what he wanted. His appetite for her was insatiable, and she couldn’t wait to climb between the sheets and feel his smooth, muscular body. He was like a finely tuned sports car, unlike the old jalopy she’d left a couple of years ago. Huh, she thought, Henry couldn’t even raise a smile, let alone anything else.

Gloria had moaned about it but stayed home to look after Peter and Timmy whilst Jenny and Pamela headed off to see Edith, their elderly gran. Jenny had left specific instructions with Gloria. She’d said that if their dad came home and he wasn’t drunk, she was to take the boys to Tooting Bec swings and not come home until teatime. The boys liked it there as they could wave to the trains as they passed. Gloria had agreed it was probably best to stay out of his way, though she’d said it was unlikely he’d come home sober. They all preferred it when their dad was drunk. He’d usually pass out.

When they arrived at their gran’s, Jenny pushed open the shared street door and stepped into the communal hall. The house was divided in two, her gran’s flat on the ground floor. Jenny had a key and let herself in and Pamela followed. The flat had one bedroom, a small lounge, a tiny kitchen and a toilet separate from the bathroom. It had recently been updated with modern conveniences, but her gran said she preferred it as it had been. She’d lived there for the past twenty years, ten of them alone since her husband had died.

The smell of freshly baked bread greeted them, making Jenny’s nostrils twitch. She breathed in the aroma and her mouth watered. Her gran’s eyesight was failing, probably caused by cataracts, but she still managed to bake a loaf every Saturday and treat them all to jam tarts.

‘Hello, love, you’re early,’ her gran said warmly when she saw Jenny in the lounge doorway.

‘Hiya, Gran. I’ve got Pamela with me today. How are you?’ Jenny asked as she bent to kiss her grandmother’s wrinkled cheek. She visited her as often as possible, always on a Saturday, and during the week when she could. It wasn’t easy, what with working full-time in Mullard’s factory and her younger siblings at home.

‘I’m all right, love,’ the old lady answered, ‘but I miss the Stewart family from upstairs. It used to be handy to bang me broomstick on the ceiling and Moira would pop down, but that new chap up there, he’s as deaf as a bleedin’ post. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a lovely young man and nice enough, but it ain’t no good to me if he can’t hear me when I need something.’

‘What do you need, Gran?’ Jenny asked. She missed the Stewarts too. It had given her peace of mind to know they were keeping an eye on her gran, but they’d moved back to Scotland.

‘Nothing, but I had the fright of my life the other evening. I was sat here, minding my own business, and I’m sure a mickey ran over my feet.’ Edith shuddered at the memory. ‘I can’t stand the little blighters, ergh! Trouble is, my eyes ain’t what they used to be, and I can’t see ’em. Moira would have come down and checked the room for me.’

‘We’ll have to do something about them, Gran.’

‘Yeah, I know. Pamela, take some coins out of my purse, it’s in my bag on the sideboard. Be a good girl and pop to the shops for a few of them mice trap things. I hate the snapping noise they make, but I’d prefer ’em with broken necks rather than running riot in my flat.’

Pamela fished out a few coins, quietly left and Edith frowned. ‘Is she all right? She ain’t said two words since she’s been here. Has your father been kicking off again?’

Jenny sighed. She didn’t like telling her gran about the unbearable situation at home, but Edith had always been her confidante and she’d found solace in her gran’s small but homely flat. ‘Yes, he went berserk this morning after Mum called in to see the boys.’

‘Oh, Jenny, who got it this time?’

‘Me … again. The rest of them were hiding upstairs, and Gloria told me that Pam had her hands over her ears from the minute Mum and Dad started arguing.’

‘Oh dear, you poor loves. I wish I had the strength to go round there and give him a piece of my mind! Did he hurt you?’

Before they’d left the house, Jenny had run a brush through her hair and found a sore place on her head where her dad had punched her. ‘No, not really,’ she fibbed, ‘sometimes his bark is worse than his bite. It puts us all on edge though, Pam especially. She’s always been a bit more sensitive than the rest of us.’

‘Yes, she has, bless her. Is she still wetting the bed?’

‘Occasionally, but don’t mention it in front of her ’cos she gets ever so embarrassed about it. I’ve tried putting plastic bags under the sheets, but Gloria moans that they make a crinkling racket when she turns over. I don’t know what to do for the best, Gran. They need a new mattress, but I can’t afford one and I daren’t ask me dad.’

‘Have you tried getting her up in the night and making her use the loo?’

‘Yes, but all that achieved was wearing myself out for work the next day. I’m hoping she’ll grow out of it soon.’

‘You said your mother called in earlier. How is she? I know she’s me daughter, but you wouldn’t think so! She ain’t been in to see me for weeks now.’

‘It’s the same for us. She doesn’t come to see us regularly, and sometimes it’s months before she turns up again. I didn’t get a chance to speak to her this time, but I think she’s split up with Lesley,’ Jenny said, glad about that. She’d only met him once but had taken an instant dislike to the man.

‘I can’t say I’m surprised. They never seem to last long with your mother. Anyway, I’m parched, so make us a cup of tea, love. You’ll find jam tarts in the usual place. I’ve made enough to sink a battleship, but I don’t suppose they’ll last two minutes with the boys.’ Edith chuckled. ‘You should’ve brought them to see me too.’

‘I will next time,’ Jenny told her.

She went into the kitchen and filled the kettle. The walls were painted bright orange, and the four cupboards chocolate brown. As she waited for the water to boil, she took a biscuit tin from the larder cupboard. It was filled to the brim with the home-baked jam tarts. Her gran was right, Peter and Timmy would gorge on them later and make themselves sick if she didn’t ration them.

A few minutes later, with a pot of tea beside them, she sat on an armchair next to her gran. She studied the woman’s face. Her eyes looked cloudy but, despite her poor sight, her grey hair was neatly pinned up in a bun, and her clothes were freshly laundered and ironed. Jenny was pleased to see her gran was still managing to take good care of herself. ‘How’s your hip, Gran?’

Her gran rubbed her left side. She was a wide woman, small-busted but with thick thighs. ‘Not too bad, love. It’s a lot better now the weather is warming up. What about you, have you found yourself a nice young man yet?’

‘Oh, Gran … no. I’ve told you, I’m not interested in meeting blokes. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.’ Jenny could feel her cheeks had flushed at the mere mention of a man.

‘You’re a pretty little thing and I’d hate to see you become a washed-up old spinster. You should go out more. There’s always a fancy dance going on at the ballroom above the ABC.’

Jenny sat back in her chair and heaved a sigh. Just the thought of walking into the ballroom made her heart race. A few of the girls at work went regularly and had encouraged her to join them, but she couldn’t pluck up the courage to go. ‘No, Gran, I prefer being here with you, or at home looking after the boys.’

‘Oh, get orf with you! You’re a young woman in your prime. You shouldn’t be sat with an old woman or babysitting your brothers. Gloria and Pamela are old enough to do that, and anyway, they’re your dad’s responsibility, not yours. You should be out enjoying yourself. So next Saturday, just to please me, I want you to get spruced up and go to the dance.’

Jenny would do anything to please her gran, but she could feel her face burning again. She reckoned her cheeks were probably as red as her hair and was grateful when she heard a knock on the door. ‘That must be Pam back with your mousetraps,’ she said as she got up, avoiding answering her gran’s request.

‘That was quick,’ Jenny said as she opened the door, but was surprised to find a man on the doorstep. He looked young, possibly about the same age as her or maybe a few years older. He had light brown eyes and longish sandy-coloured hair. Flushing, she lowered her eyes, and was surprised to see that he was wearing slippers.

‘Hello, I’m Craig from upstairs,’ he said.

That explains the slippers, Jenny thought, too shy to look up at him again. ‘Oh … erm … hi,’ she managed to stutter.

‘Is that Craig?’ Edith shouted.

Jenny spun around towards the lounge. ‘Yes, Gran.’

‘Bring him in … tell him you’ve just made a pot of tea.’

Jenny slowly turned back to face Craig and looked at him through the hood of her amber lashes. ‘You’d, er, best come in.’

Craig followed Jenny through to the lounge. She could feel his eyes on her back and felt very self-conscious.

‘Hello, sit yourself down, and Jenny, fetch another cup,’ her gran instructed in her usual friendly manner.

Jenny was pleased to be away from the lounge and out of Craig’s sight. She found his long gaze intimidating, and as usual didn’t know what to say. Unfortunately, with no excuse to dawdle, she was soon back in the lounge and pouring Craig a cup of tea.

‘So you’re Jenny,’ Craig said, smiling warmly. ‘You’re Edith’s eldest granddaughter. I’ve heard lots about you.’

‘Don’t worry, girl. I’ve only said nice things,’ her gran said, chuckling.

‘Yes, that’s right,’ Craig agreed. ‘She told me you work at that electrical component place. A fiddly job that. I’m quite handy with my hands too – I make small items of furniture.’

It was obvious he was trying to make conversation, and, much as Jenny would have liked to participate, she was finding it very difficult. It didn’t help that her gran seemed to be scrutinising her, though Jenny doubted the old woman could see very much. ‘Would … would you … like a jam tart?’ Jenny offered quietly.

‘I’m sorry, can you repeat that please?’ Craig asked.

Edith interrupted. ‘I’ve already told you he’s deaf, Jen. You have to make sure he can see your face when you talk to him, and then he can read your lips.’

‘Oh! Sorry,’ Jenny said to Craig, more embarrassed than ever, and slowly repeated her question.

‘Yes, please. I love your gran’s cooking,’ Craig replied with gusto.

Jenny went through to the kitchen and fumbled in the biscuit tin. Pull yourself together, she thought. Not only was she incredibly shy, she’d never met a deaf person before, though if her gran hadn’t told her she’d never have guessed that Craig was hard of hearing.

There were only two armchairs in the lounge, bottle-green fabric with wooden armrests. Craig was sitting in one and her gran in the other, but when Jenny came back into the lounge, he was quick to offer her his seat. She politely declined, and instead sat at a small table tucked up against the wall.

‘These are delicious, Edith, melt in your mouth,’ Craig said as he swallowed the last of his tart.

‘My granddaughter’s a good cook too, ain’t that right, Jen?’

Jenny’s heart sank as she realised her gran was playing Cupid. If that was her game, she could think again and re-aim her crooked arrow, Jenny thought. She wondered if Craig had cottoned on.

‘Well, she’s had the best teacher.’

‘’Ere, I’ve just had a thought,’ Edith said, and moved to the edge of her chair. ‘Why don’t you take Jenny to the dance in the ballroom next Saturday?’

Jenny could feel herself squirming and wanted to tell her gran to shut up. She lowered her head, not daring to look at Craig, wondering if he felt just as embarrassed.

‘I’d love to, Edith, but I’m not a good dancer. I can’t hear the music and I’ve got two left feet. But there’s a St Trinian’s film playing at the cinema. It stars George Cole, he’s a right funny one. Do you fancy coming with me to watch it, Jenny?’

Jenny looked up but couldn’t find her voice. Craig was good-looking, and she liked him, but he was probably only asking her out because her gran had put him on the spot.

‘Yes, she’d like that, wouldn’t you, Jen?’ her gran said, answering for her.

‘Er … yes … I suppose,’ Jenny eventually stuttered.

‘Great,’ Craig said, smiling.

To her relief, Jenny heard another knock on the door and jumped up. ‘I’ll get it. It’ll be Pamela,’ she said, relieved to escape for a moment to gather her thoughts. Craig had a relaxed, easy-going air about him, but she’d never been on a date before and the thought terrified her. Maybe she could say that she’d just realised that she was busy and couldn’t go.

‘You look at bit pale. What’s wrong?’ Pamela asked worriedly as she stepped into the flat.

‘Nothing,’ Jenny whispered in reply. ‘Gran has a visitor.’

‘Oh, who?’

‘The bloke from upstairs, Craig. He’s deaf but he can tell what you’re saying by reading your lips.’

‘Deaf? What, he can’t hear anything?’

‘Not a word, so when you talk make sure you’re facing him.’

‘Blimey, I’ve never spoken to a deaf person before. I wouldn’t know what to say.’

‘Don’t worry, other than his hearing he’s just like anyone else. Just be yourself,’ Jenny answered, thinking it ironic that she was giving advice to her younger sister, yet she herself was struggling to communicate without blushing.

‘This is Pamela, another of my granddaughters,’ Edith told Craig as they walked into the lounge.

‘Hello, Pamela,’ said Craig, smiling warmly.

Pamela managed to stammer hello, and then Craig rose to his feet. ‘I’d best be off, but before I go, is it all right if I pick you up next Saturday, Jenny, or I could meet you here?’

‘You can meet her here,’ Edith said quickly.

‘Right, see you next week. Nice meeting you, Pamela, and see you soon, Edith. Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out.’

Pamela waved in slow motion, seemingly fascinated and in awe at meeting a deaf man. As the front door closed, she asked, ‘What did he mean about next week?’

Jenny let out a long-held breath, and slumped onto a chair, and her gran chipped in before she could answer. ‘Your sister’s got a date.’

‘With Craig? But … he … he’s …’

‘Deaf, Pamela, yes,’ Jenny told her. ‘Craig can’t hear, but as you just saw for yourself, it doesn’t hold him back.’

‘Where’s he taking you?’

‘To the cinema,’ Jenny replied coyly.

‘That’s nice. What are you going to see? What will you wear? Do you want me to help you with your hair?’

‘Whoa, slow down, Pamela,’ Edith urged. ‘Give your sister a chance to breathe! But you’re right about her needing some help with her hair.’

Jenny patted her frizzy ginger curls. Her hair was unruly and could do with some taming, but the hot blower or curling tongs could do nothing to style it. Instead they made it look even wilder than normal, so now Jenny normally tied it back. She doubted her thirteen-year-old sister could do anything with it either, but it was nice to see her looking animated and, for now, not looking nervous.

‘I don’t know where you get that red hair from,’ Edith mused. ‘Must be from your father’s side.’

On many occasions, Jenny had heard her dad ask her mother the same question. She’d overheard his accusations and wondered if that was the reason he always seemed to beat her so severely. He didn’t believe he was really her father. And on days like today, when her head still pounded from the force of his fists, she wished he wasn’t.

Chapter 3

The following week, Craig looked out of the window and caught a glimpse of Jenny arriving at her gran’s. He thought she looked stunning and quickly checked his own reflection. ‘Who are you trying to kid?’ he asked himself. ‘A woman like her would never be interested in a bloke like you.’

Though Craig thought Jenny was accompanying him to the cinema out of sympathy, he still intended to make the most of the evening. It was only the second occasion he’d taken a woman out and he cringed at the memory of the first time. It had ended in disaster when he’d misread her words so when she’d said she played the guitar, he’d thought she said she peed in a jar. When he’d realised his mistake, he had roared with laughter, but unfortunately his date didn’t seem to have a sense of humour or the patience to understand the limitations of lip-reading.

Craig hoped this evening would go more smoothly. He’d been looking forward to this all week, but once again he reminded himself not to get his hopes up. Jenny could have the pick of blokes in Balham so was unlikely to choose him. He’d discovered that once women found out about his inability to hear, they normally did a runner. Granted, Jenny already knew he was deaf and had still agreed to go out with him, but he had to admit to himself that she hadn’t seemed very enthusiastic and he guessed she’d only said yes because she felt sorry for him. Still, it was nice to have someone to go to the cinema with for a change. At least he wouldn’t be sitting there alone, surrounded by couples. In fact, he’d have the best-looking girl on his arm, and even if they just became friends, it was better than being lonely.

‘Oh, Jen, you look a picture,’ Edith said when Jenny walked in.

‘Pamela helped with my hair. I’m amazed at how she’s styled it. Perhaps she could get a job as an apprentice hairdresser when she leaves school.’

‘You scrub up smashing. It’s nice to see you dolled up for a change. Are you looking forward to tonight?’

‘To be honest, Gran, I’ve been having second thoughts,’ Jenny answered, omitting that her stomach was in knots with nerves and she’d hardly slept because of worrying about it.

‘Why? Craig’s ever so nice. Yes, he’s deaf but you could do a lot worse, you know!’

‘It’s not him. I’m sure he’s great.’

‘So, what is it then? First date nerves?’

‘I suppose so. I’m not very good at talking to men.’

‘Don’t worry, sweetheart, everyone gets butterflies at first. You’ll soon relax, and then I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time. I reckon Craig will be feeling just as nervous.’

‘Do you think so? I wasn’t even sure he really wanted to take me out.’

‘Oh, he’s keen on you, I could tell. He couldn’t take his eyes off you and when I suggested the dance, he was quick to invite you to the cinema instead. Now stop worrying and just enjoy yourself.’

Jenny heard a light tap on the front door and her stomach flipped.

‘Go and answer it then,’ her gran urged.

She took a deep breath to compose herself but could feel her cheeks burning. Her pale skin made blushes really stand out, and she guessed her neck and chest would be red too. She opened the door but could hardly bring herself to look at Craig.

His voice upbeat, he said, ‘Hiya, Jenny. You look fantastic. Are you going somewhere nice?’

Jenny panicked. Had he forgotten about their date? She looked at him now, her eyes wide.

‘Only kidding,’ he said, grinning. ‘You do look fantastic though.’

‘Thanks,’ she muttered. ‘Come in.’

Craig followed her through to the lounge and stood by her side as he said hello to Edith.

‘Well, I say,’ her gran said proudly as she eyed them, ‘don’t you make a handsome couple.’

Jenny’s cheeks were already flushed and the last thing she needed was her gran making remarks like that. ‘We’d better go. We don’t want to be late,’ she said, trying to get them out of the door before her gran said anything else to embarrass her.

‘Righto. See you later, Edith. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Jenny and make sure she’s home at a sensible time.’

‘I’m sure you will, young man,’ Edith called, though Jenny knew Craig couldn’t have heard her.

Lizzie shoved her arm through Roy’s and reached up to kiss him on the cheek.

‘What was that for?’ Roy asked.

‘Do you really want to see this poxy film? I could think of better things to do than queuing up outside the Ritz.’

‘Oh yeah, like what?’

Lizzie stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear, ‘Let’s go back home and I’ll show you. We can have an early night.’

‘You saucy little minx,’ Roy said, beaming. ‘Come on then.’

Lizzie knew how to twist Roy around her little finger, and the suggestion of going to bed always worked when she wanted to get her own way. She wasn’t interested in seeing a film about a girls’ school. It sounded daft to her, so with an arm still hooked through Roy’s, they left the queue. To Lizzie’s horror, she spotted a familiar face in the line of people, and her eldest daughter had seen her too.

‘Mum, hello. I … I didn’t expect to see you here.’

Lizzie flashed a quick look at Roy. The man looked confused, but it wasn’t any wonder considering she still hadn’t mentioned any of her five children.

‘We’re not stopping. Gotta dash, see ya. Hope you enjoy the film,’ Lizzie said quickly and pulled on Roy’s arm, dragging him down the street and away from the awkward situation.

‘Did she just call you Mum?’ he asked, clearly perplexed.

‘Yes, but it’s not what you think,’ Lizzie answered, trying to buy some time to think of a good get-out.

‘So, she’s not your daughter?’

‘Well … she is … but—’ she stammered, unusually lost for words.

Roy tugged himself away from her grip, then angrily said, ‘For Christ’s sake, Liz, why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Don’t be like that, Roy. It’s not like I lied to you or anything. I just haven’t got around to mentioning it to you.’

‘You’ve got a grown-up daughter who doesn’t look that much younger than me and you didn’t think to say something? As for not lying to me, how old are you really?’

‘For goodness sake, a lot of women tell fibs about their age, and anyway, what does it matter?’

‘It matters to me. I don’t want to be lumbered with some washed-up old tart! What are you, thirty-five … forty?’

Lizzie bristled, her temper rising, ‘I’m forty-two, as it happens,’ she snapped, ‘and I’ve got five kids who live with their father. You’ve just met my eldest, Jenny. She’s twenty-two, and yes, that’s right, just a few years younger than you.’

Roy fell silent, but Lizzie could see he was shocked by her revelations. She didn’t want to lose him and kicked herself for losing her rag. ‘Look, it’s not the end of the world. All right, I’ve got kids, but it doesn’t mean anything has to change between us. Come on, let’s go home and have that early night,’ she suggested, licking her lips suggestively.

‘You deceitful bitch!’ he growled, his eyes cold and hard. ‘What makes you think I want to be with a grandmother, eh?’

‘Leave it out. I ain’t a grandmother!’

‘Maybe not, but you soon could be. Blimey, it won’t be long before you’re tucking your tits into your knickers and walking with a stick! Nah, Liz, this ain’t on. You duped me into sleeping with you, but now you can get your stuff out of my flat and sling your fucking hook.’

Roy stomped on ahead, leaving Lizzie reeling. She hadn’t expected him to take it so badly and quickened her pace to catch up with him. ‘Roy … wait … Roy,’ she called, but he carried on marching ahead of her.

Finally, as he opened his front door, she caught up with him. ‘Please, Roy, let’s not be hasty. Come on, let’s go to bed,’ she purred, confident that she’d be able to seduce him, and he’d forget about her age. ‘We can talk about this again later.’

‘Ugh, no thanks. The thought of sleeping with you turns my stomach now. Bloody hell, Liz, it’d be like sleeping with my mother! You’re a looker, but I need a girl of my own age. Sorry, but we’re finished.’

Lizzie’s heart sank as she realised she wouldn’t be able to persuade him to change his mind. Worse still, she’d be homeless again. ‘Please, Roy. I understand but give me a chance to get myself sorted. I can’t go tonight. I haven’t got anywhere to go.’

Roy looked her up and down with disgust, then spat, ‘Tough. That ain’t my problem. Go back to your old man and look after your children – like a proper mother!’

He opened his door, walked in and then slammed it shut behind him, leaving Lizzie dumbfounded on the doorstep. She slowly lowered herself and sat on the cold concrete step as Roy’s words spun in her head. She couldn’t go back to Henry. Roy didn’t understand what her husband was like. Of course, she would have liked to take her children with her when she left, but where could she have gone with five kids in tow? Lesley hadn’t wanted them. Anyway, she reasoned, they were better off in their own home, and whatever Henry was or wasn’t, he was at least a good provider. But that didn’t mean she’d put up with his punches again. No, she would never go back to him, never. Though she might try and cadge a few quid out of him now.

Gloria had tucked the boys into bed, and when her dad had come home from the pub she’d warmed his dinner through. He hadn’t eaten it, but she was thankful that he was in a mellow mood. He’d stumbled up the stairs to his room, and now Pamela had taken herself off to bed too.

Gloria sat alone in the front room, listening to the radio whilst waiting for Jenny to come home. She couldn’t wait to hear all the details of how her older sister’s date had gone. Before long, she heard the front door quietly close and Jenny breezed into the room. From the look on her face, Gloria could tell it had gone well. ‘Someone looks happy! Tell me all about it, I’ve been dying to know.’

‘Oh, Gloria, it was amazing! We held hands watching the film. I was a bit worried because I thought my palm might have been all sweaty, but he didn’t let it go. Then after the film he took me to the coffee bar and we talked and talked and talked some more. He insisted on walking me home, then out there, in the street, he kissed me! Just a little peck but it was on the lips. Honestly, it feels like I’ve known him forever! And you’ll never guess who we bumped into?’

‘No, go on, tell me.’

‘Mum. She was there with a bloke who looked young enough to be her son. You know her though, she hardly said two words to me and didn’t hang about.’

‘Nothing that woman does surprises me any more. Enough about her, you’ll be seeing Craig again then?’

‘Yes, and I can’t wait. I said I’d call in to see Gran on Tuesday after work, so he said he’ll take me out for something to eat. Do you mind cooking dinner for you all that night and keeping an eye on the boys?’

‘I suppose so, but don’t make it too often, they ain’t my responsibility.’

‘How have the boys and Pamela been?’

‘Don’t worry about them, they’re fine. Timmy had a bit of a bellyache, but I reckon he was swinging the lead ’cos he wanted to wait up for you to come home. Dad’s upstairs, probably passed out by now. Anyway, what did it feel like to be kissed?’

Jenny threw herself back on the sofa and sighed deeply before answering, ‘Dreamy.’

‘Blimey, ’ark at you, you’re swooning,’ Gloria chuckled. She would never admit it, but there was a part of her that was jealous. Yes, she was happy for Jenny, but she wished it was she who had a boyfriend. Someone, anyone, who could take her away from the hell of living with their father. She had someone in mind, but so far she hadn’t attracted his attention.

Chapter 4

Craig awoke to his silent world, but he felt as if a rapturous riot was occurring in his head. He’d fallen asleep with a smile on his face and now, as his eyes opened, his first thought was of Jenny and he smiled again.

Their date couldn’t have gone any better; it had been the best night of his life. Once Jenny had overcome her shyness, they’d chatted like old friends, and the more he got to know her, the more he found he liked her. They’d arranged to see each other again on Tuesday, but today was Sunday and their next date felt a lifetime away. He wished now that he’d invited her to lunch today, but he hadn’t wanted his keenness to frighten her off.

Craig almost skipped out of bed, then put the kettle on. As he stood waiting for the water to come to the boil, his mind filled with images and thoughts of Jenny. He found it sweet when she’d tap her fingers on her cheek when thinking, and tuck imaginary strands of hair behind her ear when being serious. He liked how her nose would wrinkle, like a mouse’s, when she sniffed, and he adored the dimples that showed when she smiled.

‘Get a grip of yourself, man,’ Craig said out loud as he poured hot water onto tea leaves. ‘You’re acting like a schoolboy with a crush!’ He tried to contain himself, but found he was overwhelmed with feelings for Jenny. He’d never felt like this before about anyone, and hoped she felt the same.

A short while later, Craig decided to head for his workshop. There wasn’t much else to do alone on a Sunday, other than take a walk or go to church. As he trotted downstairs, Edith’s door opened and the woman stepped out with her arms folded across her chest and a mischievous grin on her face.

‘Well then, how was your date?’ she asked.

‘Morning, Edith. Have you been standing behind your door waiting to accost me?’

‘You cheeky bugger, but yes, as it happens, I have.’

‘I’m surprised you weren’t waiting up for me to come home last night.’

‘I was, but I must have nodded off. Well?’

‘Well what?’ Craig asked, enjoying teasing the old woman.

‘Don’t make me drag it out of you,’ Edith warned and wagged her finger.

‘It was very … pleasant.’

‘Pleasant, is that it, pleasant?’

‘Actually, it was better than pleasant.’

‘The kettle’s just boiled, do you want to come in and tell me all about it?’

Yes, Craig wanted to. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jenny and would like nothing better than to talk about her too. As he followed Edith into her cosy home, he announced, ‘Do you know what, I’m absolutely smitten.’

Edith turned and smiled warmly. ‘Good. You’ve made an old woman very happy. Jenny deserves a bit of happiness and it’s about time she met a nice, decent man.’

Craig sat down and made no secret of his feelings. His cheeks ached from grinning so much, but he couldn’t help himself. ‘She’s lovely, Edith, really lovely.’

‘I know, she’s a good girl, you won’t find kinder.’

‘I won’t be looking! Honestly, Edith, call me soft if you want, but she’s bowled me over. I hope she likes me too.’

‘Tell me to mind me own business, but did you give her a kiss goodnight?’

‘Edith! You can’t ask me something like that,’ Craig answered, pretending to be shocked.

‘Don’t be bleedin’ daft. Did you or didn’t you?’

‘Yes, I did, but don’t you go giving me an ear-bashing. I swear, I was every ounce the gentleman.’

‘I’m sure you was and I’d expect nothing less, but my point is, if Jenny allowed you to give her a kiss, then I guarantee she likes you too. I know my Jen. Trust me, the feelings are mutual.’

‘Thanks, Edith, it’s nice to hear. I feel a bit stupid, and to be honest, I don’t know what’s come over me.’

‘It’s called love, Craig. Me and my husband were just the same when we first met. When you meet the one, you know it.’

Craig sat back in the armchair and sighed. He’d known immediately that Jenny was ‘the one’, but had told himself it was too soon. Of course, he wouldn’t reveal his feelings to Jenny just yet, but now that Edith confirmed it, he knew he was falling head over heels.

Henry turned over in bed, opened his eyes and blinked against the bright sunlight beaming through the window. It took him a minute or two to get his bearings but then he realised he must have fallen asleep without drawing the curtains and was still wearing all his clothes. He hardly remembered coming home last night but had recollections of lumping Jerry King. The man had been having a laugh at his expense about Lizzie with some toy boy. A bloody nose had soon shut Jerry up, but he couldn’t recall if he’d been barred from the pub or not. If he was, he wasn’t bothered – he’d spend his hard-earned cash in the Grove Tavern instead.

With his mouth feeling like the bottom of a parrot’s cage, Henry grimaced as he glanced at his bedside alarm clock. Bloody hell, it was nearly eleven. He must have been well plastered to sleep in this late. He could hear Timmy and Peter playing in the hallway downstairs. Blinkin’ kids, he thought; with his thumping head the last thing he needed was them lot mucking about. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, then sat with his head lowered. At least it was Sunday, so he didn’t have to go to work. He was a dustman. It was a stinking job, but he liked working in the outdoors and the lads on the dustcart were a good bunch of blokes. There were perks to the job too, often half-decent bits and pieces put out that they could flog, splitting the cash between them.

Henry’s stomach grumbled loudly. He had no idea when he’d last eaten. He straightened his back, stretched his arms and slowly stood up to go downstairs. Late up or not, one of the girls could cook him breakfast. There wasn’t much good he could say about his wife, but she had taught them how to cook and a big fry-up was exactly what he needed right now.

Jenny was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes in preparation for their Sunday dinner. She was still feeling elated from her date with Craig but tensed when she heard her father’s footsteps overhead. He’d be coming downstairs soon and was sure to have a hangover which meant he’d be like a bear with a sore head. She spun around and said quickly to Pamela, ‘Get the boys and take them to the back yard. Hurry.’

Pamela jumped from the kitchen table, rushed into the hallway and soon returned with Peter holding one hand and Timmy the other. ‘Let’s have a game of football,’ she urged as she dragged them through the kitchen.

Just in time, Jenny thought as her father walked in. ‘Morning, Dad. There’s tea in the pot,’ she said, not expecting to receive anything more than a grunt in response.

‘Pour me a cup, and I’ll have some bacon and eggs with it,’ he answered before sauntering off to the front room.

Jenny wrinkled her nose at the foul smell of his body odour and the stench of stale beer. It was bad enough that he came home every night with the pong of rubbish on him, but she couldn’t abide the stink of tobacco and alcohol that lingered on his clothes from when he’d been in the pub.

Though it was closer to lunchtime, she set to cooking his breakfast. Gloria walked into the room, done up to the nines. ‘Where are you going dressed like that?’ Jenny asked.

‘Nowhere,’ Gloria answered offhandedly.

‘So, what’s with all the fancy clobber?’

‘I just like to look nice.’

‘So you’re not going out, and just dressed up like that for no reason,’ Jenny challenged.

‘I might go for a walk.’

‘Where to? The shops will be closed today.’

‘I dunno, down to Chestnut Grove maybe.’

Jenny narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘Isn’t that where Dennis Henderson lives, above Queenie’s fag shop?’

‘Might be,’ Gloria said and strutted across the kitchen to pour herself a glass of tap water.

‘I knew it! You’re hoping to bump into him, aren’t you?’

‘Well, he is rather dishy.’

‘Yes, he’s a nice-looking lad, but from what I’ve heard he’s a bit of a so-and-so. You could do so much better.’

‘But I like him, Jen. I just wish he’d notice me.’

Jenny hoped he wouldn’t. She worked in the same factory as his mother and had heard the woman complaining about her son, saying he couldn’t hold down a job because she could never get him out of bed. ‘If he sees you dressed like that he’ll notice you all right, though I think you’d be better off giving him a wide berth and setting your sights higher.’

‘Don’t nag, Jen. I ain’t trying to marry him. I just want a bit of fun for a change and hope he’ll ask me out on a date.’

With their often bleak lives, Jenny couldn’t blame Gloria for wanting a bit of fun, but she worried that her sister was really looking for love. ‘Fine, it’s your life, but if you’re determined to see him I suggest you leave now, quickly, before Dad sees how short your skirt is.’

‘Yes, you’re right. He wouldn’t let me out the house like this. Wish me luck and I’ll see you later.’

Jenny just smiled. She couldn’t bring herself to wish Gloria luck in wanting to date the boy, but she couldn’t stop her. Gloria was headstrong and though Jenny tried her best to guide her, Gloria would often retaliate with anger and do her own thing regardless.

She heard the front door close, and for a while all was quiet, but then she heard heels tapping along the hallway before the kitchen door opened again. She was about to ask Gloria what she’d forgotten, but her heart sank when she heard her mother’s voice.

‘Morning, Jen, where’s your father?’

‘He’s in the front room, but don’t go upsetting him. He had a few beers last night, so he might have a hangover.’

‘Upsetting him! It’s me who’s bloody well upset!’

Her tone was shrill, but before Jenny could say anything her dad came bounding from the front room.

‘I thought I heard your fucking voice. If you’re hoping to see the kids, you can think again.’

‘No, actually, Henry,’ she said, smiling softly as she looked up at him, ‘it’s you I want to see.’

It appalled Jenny when her mum would try and use her feminine charms to soften her dad. It was obvious she was after something.

‘Oh yeah, what do you want to see me about?’ Henry asked.

‘Let’s go into the front room and have a chat,’ Lizzie suggested.

‘Yeah, all right.’

Jenny watched as her mother followed her father, throwing a smug grin over her shoulder as she left the kitchen. I hope she gets what she’s come for, Jenny thought, and doesn’t rile him. She finished cooking his breakfast, and once it was plated up, Jenny wondered whether she should take it through to him or keep it warm in the oven. Trouble was, the fried eggs would go hard, which would give her father another reason to kick off. She hadn’t yet heard any raised voices so decided to serve it up. She placed the plate on a tray then tapped gently on the front room door.

Her father was quick to shout, ‘What?’

As Jenny walked nervously into the room, balancing the tray, her father looked at her and said scathingly, ‘Your mother’s got some fucking nerve.’

‘Well, if it wasn’t for gobby there, I wouldn’t be in the situation I am now,’ Lizzie said, and raised her eyebrows at Jenny.

Jenny didn’t know what to say and wanted to flee from the room.

‘What’s Jenny got to do with anything?’ her father asked.

‘Last night she went and opened her big gob. She called me Mum, and that put me in this very difficult position. I hadn’t yet told my fella that I had kids and he chucked me out. Yeah, and come to that, Jenny, who was that bloke you were with?’

Jenny could feel her parents’ eyes boring into her, but her throat felt frozen with fear and she was unable to answer. Instead, she walked cautiously over to her dad to offer him the tray. To her utter shock, instead of taking it from her, he whacked the tray from underneath and sent it flying across the room. Greasy bacon and runny egg yolk slid down the faded wallpaper as the plate and tray crashed to the floor.

‘You’re taking the fucking piss out of me, Lizzie,’ he yelled. ‘This bloke chucked you out, you’re blaming Jenny for it, and now you’ve come here trying to tap me for money. Get out of my house, you money-grabbing whore!’

Her mother flinched but, as though she didn’t want to show any fear, she flicked her hair back defiantly then marched from the room. In a haughty voice, she called over her shoulder, ‘Fine. You can poke your rotten money where the sun don’t shine, Henry Lombard.’

As the front door slammed, Jenny stared at her father, petrified at what was coming.

‘That bitch left me with you five to look after and then has the front to come round here with her hand out asking for money. And what the fuck was she on about? Was you out with a man last night?’

Jenny nodded.

‘And you saw your mother?’

Again, she nodded.

‘Was the fancy bloke she was with a young ’un?’

Jenny went to nod yet again, but her father moved fast and placed his large calloused hand around her neck. She would have stumbled backwards but he had a tight grip of her. She could feel the blood rushing to her head.

‘Did you have a nice time, the four of you? Cosy, was it?’ he asked menacingly.

Jenny wanted to tell him that it wasn’t like that, but her father’s tightening hold was nearly choking her. She didn’t see it coming, but suddenly felt a searing hot pain across her face. He’d viciously slapped her, but he’d let go of her throat and she crumpled to the floor. She didn’t have time to curl into a foetal position before he began raining blows down on her. Her ribs, her arms, her head, her whole body felt under assault from his punishing punches and kicks.

‘You’re a fucking tart just like your mother,’ he screamed.

Jenny closed her eyes, but she couldn’t blot out the pain as blow after blow smashed into her already bruised body.

Finally spent, and gasping for breath, her father walked away, leaving her close to passing out and bleeding on the worn floorboards. Jenny felt as though she was drifting away, and the last thing she heard was the front door slamming before she sank into unconsciousness.

Gloria had passed her mother as she left the house. Lizzie had eyed her short skirt with disapproval, and Gloria had scuttled past, saying she was in a hurry. She carried on walking, but her conscience kept nagging at her to go back home. It was obvious that her mother was heading there, and wherever she went, so did trouble. If her mother infuriated her dad, she knew Jenny would end up being used as his punchbag.

Gloria was about to turn back, but then decided she was better off out of it, and safe from her father’s temper. She’d rather Jenny be getting it in the neck than her. Nearly twenty minutes later and close to Chestnut Grove, some impulse made her suddenly spin on her heels again and head home. If everything was all right, she could always go out for another walk, and anyway, she consoled herself, it was still a bit early and Dennis might not be about yet.

As Gloria hurried round a corner, she came face to face with her mother. She’d promised Jenny she wouldn’t say anything, but, worried about the chaos her mother had probably left behind, she couldn’t help herself and blurted, ‘Have you been to see me dad?’

‘Yeah, but it was a waste of time. The tight git.’

‘Can’t you just stay away, Mum? Every time you visit, you upset Dad, and when you leave one of us always gets a hiding. Do you even care that he beats Jenny because of you?’

‘Don’t be such a drama queen, Gloria. If he hits any of you, I’ve no doubt you deserved it. My father used to take the strap to me, it’s what dads do. It’s called discipline and it won’t do you any harm.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with telling us off! It’s Jenny that mostly gets the brunt of his temper and she doesn’t do anything to deserve it. Please, for her sake, for all our sakes, don’t visit us again.’

Gloria was stunned when her mother just glared at her and pushed past her without saying another word. It was obvious she didn’t care about them. Gloria picked up her pace and, just as she reached home, her father came steaming from the house. His face was contorted with rage and his eyes black. He didn’t so much as look at her as he passed, and Gloria instinctively knew he’d beaten Jenny again. She dashed up the short path to the front door, dropping her key in her haste. Once inside, she flew straight to the front room and looked down in horror at Jenny lying unconscious on the floor.

‘Pamela,’ she yelled. ‘Pamela, run up to the phone box and ring for an ambulance.’

Gloria dropped to her knees beside her sister and gently brushed Jenny’s hair from her bloodied face. ‘It’s all right,’ she soothed, ‘help will be here soon.’

Jenny groaned in pain and a knot formed in Gloria’s stomach. Her father had done this, inflicted these terrible injuries, and she hated him, detested him. Her mother might not have landed the punches, but she’d played a part in this, and she hated her too.

Once again Jenny cried out, and Gloria’s eyes filled with tears. This was the worst she’d ever seen it. Her sister looked in a bad way – a very bad way, and she feared that this time Jenny wouldn’t pull through.

Chapter 5

Thankfully, Gloria’s fears were unfounded, but even now Jenny winced as she rolled over in her bed. It had been two weeks since her father had attacked her, but she still felt bruised and sore. She’d told the hospital staff she’d fallen down the stairs. If they’d known the truth, she worried that, hearing what her father was capable of, they’d take the boys away. Jenny wondered if they’d be better off in a children’s home – at least they would be safe – but she couldn’t bring herself to break up the family. She’d always done her best to protect them, but it seemed her father’s violence was escalating. With that in mind, she forced herself to climb out of bed. Every bone in her body ached and she felt weak, but she couldn’t risk staying in her room any longer.

There was a light tap on her bedroom door, then Gloria popped her head in. ‘I thought I heard you up and about,’ she said, then rushed over to offer Jenny an arm to lean on.

Jenny was touched by her sister’s solicitude. Gloria could sometimes be selfish, but she’d been marvellous since she’d come home from the hospital, Pamela too. ‘I can’t stay in bed forever. Dad will be home from work soon and I’m worried he’ll start on the boys. Anyway, why aren’t you at work?’

‘Don’t worry about Timmy and Peter. Between us, Pamela and me have got it all in hand. Can you hear anything?’

‘No,’ Jenny replied, thinking that the house was strangely quiet.

‘That’s because Pam has taken them to Tooting Lido. They won’t be home for ages yet, so get yourself back into bed.’

‘No, it’s about time I was up and about. You still haven’t said why you’re not at work.’

‘I’ll tell you later. Do you want me to make you a cuppa?’

‘Thanks, that would be nice,’ Jenny answered, but got the feeling that Gloria was trying to fob her off about her job. ‘Give me a few minutes. I’ll get myself dressed and then I’ll be down.’

Gloria closed the bedroom door behind her, leaving Jenny to struggle to put her clothes on. Her wrist was badly sprained and at least one of her ribs was fractured. She managed to pull on a dress that buttoned down the front, but brushing her unruly ginger locks proved more of an effort. It hurt to lift her arm above her head. She looked in the mirror, and gently fingered her eye. The swelling had gone down, but the bruise was now yellow, and her split lip still hadn’t healed. She’d rarely smiled lately, but each time she attempted to, the cut on her lip would sting and open again.

By the time Jenny came downstairs, Gloria had brewed a fresh pot of tea and had poured two cups. Jenny eased herself slowly onto a chair and quizzed her sister again.

‘The truth is, Jen, I got the sack.’

‘Oh no, that’s all we need. I’m not going to have any pay coming in again this week and now you’ve gone and lost your job! What did you do?’

‘Nothing! Old Fletcher said I couldn’t have any time off to look after you, so I told him what he could do with his poxy job.’

Jenny couldn’t be angry with Gloria, but she was concerned about money. Their dad provided for the rent and bills and contributed towards the groceries, but between them Jenny and Gloria topped up the housekeeping. Without the extra money, they’d be back on a very basic diet and there wouldn’t be any treats for the boys. Then a thought crossed Jenny’s mind. ‘How has Pamela managed to pay for the boys to go swimming?’

‘It’s all right, Pamela’s best friend’s brother is a lifeguard. He’ll get them in for free.’

‘That’s good. We can’t afford to waste any money for a while. Did you take that letter to the factory for me?’

‘Yes, and Miss Aston was fine about you being off sick. She said you’re not to go back until you’re one hundred per cent better. She seems like a nice lady. I wish I worked at your factory.’

‘Did you ask her if she had any positions available?’

‘Nah, I still need to be here, so I thought I’d wait ’til you’re back at work and you can ask for me,’ Gloria said with a cheeky grin.

‘Does Dad know you’ve lost your job?’

‘Yeah, and he did his nut. He said that now I’m sixteen I ain’t his responsibility and he won’t be paying for my keep. I’ve got two weeks to find another job and if I don’t, he’ll chuck me out.’

‘Blimey, Gloria, you’d better go and see Miss Aston tomorrow. Oh, no, you can’t, it’ll be Saturday and the factory is closed, but you can try first thing on Monday. Dad doesn’t make idle threats, you known what he’s like.’

‘Yeah, I suppose. He also said that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and I’m just like my mother, selfish and lazy. Do you know what … the more I think about it, the more I understand why she left him!’

There were times when Jenny agreed with what her dad had told Gloria. Her sister could be self-centred and was prone to idleness. ‘What about Gran? Have you been to see her?’ she asked.

‘Not yet, I haven’t had a chance.’

‘Oh, Gloria, she’ll be worried sick that she hasn’t heard from us. You should have called in on her.’

‘The silly old bat is getting so forgetful I doubt she noticed.’

Coming downstairs had taken its toll on Jenny. She was tired and didn’t have the energy to argue with Gloria but knew her gran would be beside herself with worry. It was painful just to stand up, so Jenny knew she wouldn’t be able to walk there. It was pointless asking Gloria to go, but she’d send Pamela to see her tomorrow.

Gloria sipped her tea then studied her painted fingernails while Jenny watched, thinking that her father was right. Gloria was very much like their mother. Both were vain and self-centred, though she hoped that, without their mother around to influence her, Gloria would lose some of her selfish streak. Once again Jenny had to admit that Gloria had stepped up since she came home from hospital, and for that she was grateful, but to leave their gran to fret showed there was still some way to go.

At six o’clock, Craig packed up his tools and prepared to go home, though he wasn’t looking forward to spending yet another weekend alone. As he padlocked the door to his furniture workshop, he thought again how lucky he was to have found the place. Mr Rendall owned the small building and had worked in it for years, but since his retirement he’d been happy to rent it to Craig.

When he arrived home and walked into the house, Craig paused briefly outside Edith’s door. He hadn’t seen her for a while, or Jenny. They’d arranged another date, and he’d been more than disappointed when Jenny stood him up. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he didn’t think any pretty young woman in their right mind would want to be lumbered with a deaf boyfriend.

He’d avoided Edith since then, but as he was about to walk upstairs, on impulse he turned back and knocked on her door. It wasn’t the old woman’s fault that Jenny wasn’t interested in him, he thought as he knocked again, harder this time. He waited a minute or two, but when Edith didn’t come to the door, worry began to niggle at him. Edith was almost always at home and he had a feeling that something wasn’t right. He hammered the door now and called out her name. The door had a lock but no letterbox, so when there was still no response he dashed outside and peered through her front room window. It wasn’t easy to see much through Edith’s net curtains, but panic rose when he spotted her legs. She looked as if she was lying in the doorway, but her top half was obscured.

‘It’s all right, Edith,’ Craig shouted, ‘I’m coming.’

He ran back inside and threw his shoulder at her door, but it didn’t budge. Then, as his mind raced, he darted upstairs and a few moments later came back down with a crowbar. ‘Don’t worry, I’m going to get this door open,’ he shouted.

Thankfully, with leverage, it gave way and Craig ran up the small hallway and almost slid to his knees beside Edith. She was flat on her back and he couldn’t see her chest moving. If she was breathing, it was very shallowly.

‘Edith,’ he said, gently shaking the old woman and silently praying that she was alive, ‘Edith, it’s me, Craig. Can you move?’

To his relief, she groaned and slowly opened her eyes. ‘Oh … Craig … I’ve had a bit of a fall,’ she croaked weakly, and grasped his hand.

He couldn’t see any signs of obvious injury. ‘I can see that. Do you think you’ve broken anything?’ he asked.

‘No, I … I think I’m all right.’

‘Shall we see if I can help you up?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed.

‘Good, come on then, gently does it,’ Craig said as he eased Edith to a sitting position. ‘Right, good, stay there a moment and I’ll get you a glass of water.’

Craig left Edith and rushed to her kitchen then returned with the refreshment. ‘Here you go, sip slowly on this,’ he said, offering her the glass.

Edith gulped a few mouthfuls, then said, ‘I’ve been lying here since yesterday. I was banging and shouting as loud as I could, but of course you couldn’t have heard me. Silly old sod, aren’t I?’

‘No, and I’m so sorry. Do you think you can stand up or should I call the doctor, or an ambulance?’

‘I don’t need an ambulance, or the doctor. I just feel a bit dizzy, that’s all. Perhaps you could pop around to Jenny’s for me? Ask her if she, or one of the other girls, can come here to look after me tonight.’

‘Yes, of course, but if you’re feeling dizzy perhaps you really should see the doctor.’

‘No, Craig, there’s no need to make a fuss. I just tripped over, nothing to worry about. Now, take this glass and give me a hand up.’

The woman looked frail, but Craig liked her spirit. She was made of strong stuff and wasn’t prepared to let a little fall faze her. ‘What’s Jenny’s address?’ he asked. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea then go straight there. I’m not sure she’ll be too pleased to see me, though. We were supposed to be going out again the week before last, but she didn’t turn up.’

‘Didn’t she? That’s not like her. In fact, I haven’t seen her since you two went off to see a film. I’ve been worried sick that she hasn’t been in to see me. The other kids don’t call in that often, but Jenny always comes at least once a week. I hope everything’s all right.’

Craig managed to get Edith into her armchair. ‘I’m sure it is. Jenny probably stayed away to avoid me.’

‘No, my Jenny isn’t like that. I hope her bleedin’ father hasn’t given her another good hiding. Pass me that pen and paper on the table please. I’ll write down the address while you make me that cuppa.’

Craig couldn’t hear the urgency in Edith’s voice, but he noticed how worried she looked.

‘Sorry, Edith, did you say that her father hits her?’

‘Yes, he’s not been right since their mother walked out. But don’t say anything. She doesn’t like people to know.’

Craig tried to get his head around what Edith had said. It was outrageous! He’d never understand how any man could hit a woman, let alone his own daughter. Jenny hadn’t told him about it, but he recalled how she’d tensed when he’d mentioned her father, then she’d quickly changed the subject. He hadn’t thought much about it at the time, but now it made sense. As he waited for the water to boil, he could feel his heart pounding faster at the thought of seeing Jenny again. He liked her. He liked her a lot and couldn’t stand the thought of her being hurt. Something had to be done. He didn’t know what, but there would be no way he’d stand by and allow anyone to ever lay a hand on her again.

Jenny checked the clock. Their dad wasn’t home yet so she assumed he was in the pub. Pamela had come back with two very hungry and tired boys. Gloria had fed them and they were now tucked up in bed. Jenny sat back on the sofa with thoughts of Craig. She felt awful about not meeting him for their date but it’d been impossible to get word to him.

Gloria broke into her thoughts, saying, ‘That’ll be another dinner wasted then.’

‘Keep it warm, he might eat it when he gets home,’ Jenny answered, though she doubted he would, he rarely did.

‘I think I’ll go up and read my book. Night, night,’ Pamela said quietly, and slipped from the room.

‘She’s been pissing the bed every blinkin’ night since Dad bashed you up, and I can’t stand it,’ Gloria hissed.

‘Pamela can’t help it. Maybe she should have my room until she stops, and I’ll share with you.’

‘Why can’t I have your room and you share with Pam?’

‘No, Gloria, the idea is that if Pam has her own bed, she won’t bother anyone when she has her accidents.’

‘But it isn’t only Pam. I hate sleeping in a room with the boys. Peter’s always crying for Mum and Timmy has nightmares, waking us all up.’

‘Well, I’m sorry, but there are only three bedrooms and my room isn’t big enough to swing a cat. You’ll have to put up with it and as soon as my ribs feel better, I’ll swap with Pam,’ she said. Any further protests from Gloria were halted by a knock on the door.

‘I’ll get it. It’ll probably be Joan next door on the cadge for some tea or milk again.’

While Gloria went to answer the door, Jenny strained to hear what was said. She hoped her sister would be polite to Joan, who was really struggling since her husband had been laid off. She could hardly believe her ears when she recognised Craig’s voice. Her stomach flipped.

‘Hello, I’m Craig. Is Jenny at home, please?’

‘Yes, just a minute.’

Gloria came back into the room all wide-eyed and smiley. ‘There’s a good-looking bloke at the door for you,’ she said teasingly.

‘I know! I heard! It’s Craig! What’s he doing here?’

‘I don’t know, shall I invite him in?’

‘No, I’ll come out. I don’t want Dad to come home and find him in here. Oh gawd, look at the state of me,’ she exclaimed as she stood up and tried to straighten her old dress before walking tentatively down the hallway, eager to see Craig, yet also dreading it. She was also conscious that her cheeks would be glowing bright red.

‘Jenny, hello.’ Craig smiled.

Jenny thought her heart had missed a beat at the sight of him. ‘Hello,’ she answered shyly. She heard a muffled giggle and guessed that Gloria was probably standing behind the door, trying unsuccessfully to suppress her mirth as she eavesdropped on them.

‘I hope you don’t mind me calling like this, but your gran has had a bit of a fall and asked me to come round. Oh, blimey, are you all right? You look like you’ve been in the wars too.’

‘I … I’m nearly better now, but what about my gran? Is she all right?’

‘She hasn’t broken any bones, but it’s left her a bit weak and dizzy. She’s hoping you, or one of your sisters, would stay the night with her.’

‘Oh, no! Poor Gran! Are you sure she hasn’t broken anything?’

‘She seems fine, just but a bit shaky. She tripped over and couldn’t get herself back up. She’s a bit unsteady on her feet at the moment though and that’s why she’d like someone with her.’

‘Yes, of course. I won’t bother to ask my sister Gloria, she’ll only make some excuse not to go, but I’ll send Pamela straight over. In fact, as it’s dark now, would you mind if she walked back with you?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Gloria, I know you’re there, so go and tell Pam to pack an overnight bag. Tell her to hurry up.’

Gloria emerged sheepishly from behind the door and flashed Craig a smile before running upstairs.

‘How have you been?’ Craig asked.

‘Not bad, thanks. Look, I’m sorry about the other week.’

‘It’s all right, I understand,’ Craig answered.

‘No, I don’t think you do. I did want to go out with you, but after the accident I was kept in hospital for a few days.’

‘An accident? What happened?’

‘I fell down the stairs. Silly really, just missed my footing,’ Jenny said. She didn’t like telling him lies but couldn’t bring herself to reveal the awful truth. ‘I fractured a couple of ribs and I’ve been in bed since I was sent home. I’m a lot better now though and this is my first day up.’

‘That sounds painful, Jenny, but I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better. Your gran will be pleased to know that it wasn’t your father again.’

‘What?’

‘Shit, sorry, I wasn’t meant to say anything. Edith was worried, she told me about your dad.’

‘Oh, I see. Well, she shouldn’t have, and as it happens, the accident had nothing to do with my father,’ Jenny replied, and lowered her eyes. She was embarrassed and didn’t want Craig to see that she’d been untruthful.

‘She didn’t mean any harm, but Jenny, does this mean that when you’ve fully recovered I can take you out again?’

Jenny wanted to shout yes please! – there was nothing she would like more. Instead she shyly nodded her head.

‘Great, well, when you’re ready, I’ll take you out to dinner.’

When Pamela came downstairs, Jenny turned to her and said, ‘Give Gran my love and tell her I’ll call in to see her as soon as I can.’

‘Yeah, all right,’ Pam agreed.

‘See you soon, Jenny,’ Craig husked, smiling softly.

She felt her cheeks flush, and before closing the door, stammered, ‘Y-yes, see you.’

As they walked back along the hall, Gloria smiled and said, ‘He really fancies you.’

‘Stop it, we’re just friends.’

‘Pull the other leg, it’s got bells on it. I only got the tail end of what was said when I came downstairs with Pam, but from what I heard it sounds like you’ve arranged another date?’

‘Yes, we have, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.’

‘Why on earth not?’

‘If Dad does this to me again, I’m not sure how Craig would react. It’s not fair to involve him in my problems.’

‘Your problem is that you think too much. Just go out with the man and enjoy yourself.’

‘Maybe, but I can’t think about it now. I’m tired, Gloria, and I’m going to bed.’

‘Righto, nighty night.’

Jenny wearily climbed the stairs to her room. She wished Gloria had called in to see their gran when she’d been asked to, but at least Pamela would be with her now. She undid the buttons on her dress and allowed it to fall to the floor then stepped into her winceyette nightclothes. It was easier to pull the nightdress up than put it over her head.

She slowly climbed into bed, with thoughts of Craig flying around her mind. It had thrilled her to see him again, and though it was against her better judgement, she liked the idea of going to dinner with him. Maybe she should take Gloria’s advice to just go out with the man and enjoy it. As long as she kept Craig and her father apart, surely it would be all right?

Even though it was almost dark, Pamela would have preferred to walk alone to her gran’s flat. She felt awkward with Craig and hoped he wouldn’t talk to her. Jenny had already told her to make sure he could see her lips, so he’d be able to understand what she was saying, but she still didn’t feel comfortable.

‘How old are you, Pamela?’ Craig asked.

Oh no, she thought, he’d gone and asked her a question. She turned her face to look at him, then answered, ‘Thirteen.’

‘Thirteen, a ripe old age. Do you know what you want to do when you leave school?’

‘I dunno. Work in a factory, I suppose, like my sister.’

‘A factory, eh? Have you ever thought about doing anything else?’

This wasn’t as bad as Pamela had thought it was going to be. Craig understood everything she said. ‘I did think about hairdressing, but I really want to be a fashion designer, like Mary Quant. Fat chance though. Things like that don’t happen to girls like me.’

‘Don’t say that, you never know what the future holds. Who’s Mary Quant? I’ve never heard of her.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Pamela said, smiling.

She found herself warming to Craig and decided she quite liked him. They were soon at her gran’s, and she was pleased to see the old woman was mostly unharmed from her ordeal. ‘Can I get you anything, Gran?’

‘Yes, love, a cup of hot milk and a couple of aspirins. It might help me to sleep.’

Pamela scuttled off to the kitchen, but she could still hear what was being said in the living room.

‘How was Jenny?’ her gran asked.

‘She’s as bad as you, Edith. She’s taken a tumble down the stairs and that’s why she hasn’t been to see you for a while.’

‘Stairs, my arse! Is that what she told you?’

‘Yes, why, don’t you believe her?’

‘No, I bloody don’t! You can bet your last farthing that her old man has given her what for. I’m telling you, Craig, if I was younger and fitter I’d skin that man alive.’

As soon as Pamela returned to the lounge, her gran asked pointedly, ‘Did Jenny hurt herself badly when she “fell down the stairs”?’

Pamela hated having to fib, but she’d promised her sister she wouldn’t tell anyone what really happened, though from what she’d just overheard they’d worked it out for themselves. ‘Yes, it was pretty bad. We had to get an ambulance for her. She wasn’t awake for a while … and … and it was really scary.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, it must have been terrifying for you all, especially Jenny. Was your dad at home? Did he call the ambulance?’

Pamela suddenly felt she was being interrogated and hoped she wouldn’t crack under pressure. ‘Yes, er, no … he … er … he was out,’ she stuttered nervously.

Her gran seemed to be scrutinising her, then asked, ‘Did he go out before or after Jenny fell down the stairs?’

‘I … I think it was before.’

‘Are you trying to hide something from me, young lady? I don’t know who you think you’re protecting, but I know when you’re fibbing to me.’

Her gran’s voice was unusually stern, and Pamela could feel herself beginning to crumple. ‘Oh, Gran,’ she blurted and felt a sob catch in her throat. It was as if all the fear and sadness she’d bottled up for weeks were suddenly unleashed. ‘I thought he was going to kill her … I thought he was going to kill us all!’

Pamela ran to Edith, dropped to her knees and then cried into her gran’s lap.

Edith softly stroked her hair, and soothed, ‘It’s all right, love, you’re safe here.’

Pamela wished she could stay in her gran’s flat forever, away from her father’s aggression and the pain he caused. It wasn’t possible, though: there was no room, and anyway, they all needed to escape, not just her.

With her head still in the old woman’s lap, Pamela didn’t see her gran look up at Craig and silently mouth, ‘I’d like to kill the bastard.’

Chapter 6

Jenny hadn’t slept well. It wasn’t just the discomfort of her ribs that had kept her awake; she hadn’t been able to shift thoughts of Craig from her head. She managed to get out of bed and dressed and was about to creep downstairs when she heard a small voice.

‘Morning, Jen,’ chirped Timmy as he emerged from his bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

‘Good morning,’ Jenny answered quietly. ‘Is your brother still asleep?’

‘No, I’m awake,’ Peter announced as he followed his older brother.

‘Yeah, me and all, thanks to you two little brats,’ Gloria called from the bedroom.

Jenny grinned at the boys, and asked, ‘Did you jump on her again?’

‘No,’ Timmy answered, ‘we drew on her face.’

‘You didn’t! She’ll have your guts for garters. Come on, get yourselves downstairs and let her have a lie-in.’

The truth was, Jenny didn’t want the boys’ jovialities to disturb their dad. Luckily, he was a heavy sleeper, especially after he’d had a good drink.

In the kitchen, Jenny gave the boys a glass of milk and made them some bread and jam, along with a pot of tea for herself. It hurt to lift the kettle, but she hid the discomfort from her brothers.

‘Where’s Pamela?’ Timmy asked.

‘She went to stay with Gran last night.’

‘Can we go to see her today? Gran might have made some cakes!’

‘Not today, but we’ll go next Saturday,’ Jenny answered. Craig had said that Gran was fine, just shaky, but she wasn’t sure the old woman would be up to seeing the boys.

‘Can we go to the common then?’

‘Well, if you stop being mean to Gloria, she might take you. You can take the old bread and feed the ducks.’

‘Cor yes,’ Timmy said excitedly. ‘I like the ducks, but the geese are a bit frightening.’

‘I don’t want to go to the common,’ Peter said sullenly.

‘Why not?’ Jenny asked.

‘I just don’t want to. I want to stay at home today.’

‘But it’s going to be a lovely sunny day and you’ll have lots of fun.’

‘I don’t care. I’m not going!’ Peter said firmly, then sat with his arms folded.

‘Don’t be daft, Peter. You’re coming with us,’ Timmy told him.

‘No, and you can’t make me!’

Jenny pulled out a chair and sat opposite Peter. ‘No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to, but can you tell me why you want to stay at home today?’

Peter’s bottom lip began to quiver, and his big blue eyes glistened. ‘Mummy might come to see us today,’ he cried, ‘and I want to ask her if I can live with her.’

Jenny’s heart broke for the boy. ‘I don’t think she’s coming today and I’m sorry, Peter, but I doubt she’s got room for you. Anyway, I don’t want you to leave us. We’d all miss you too much.’

‘If Peter goes to live with Mum, can I go too?’ Timmy asked.

‘No, I’m afraid the two of you aren’t going anywhere.’

‘But you said I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to … and I don’t want to live here!’ Peter cried, his cheeks now wet with tears and his nose beginning to run.

‘I know that’s what I said, but that was about going to the common.’ Jenny turned her head and said, ‘Do me a favour, Timmy, go and get your brother a hanky to wipe his nose.’

As the boy ran off, Jenny pushed her chair back and went over to Peter. She crouched beside him, placing her arm across his shoulders. ‘Come on, darling, stop crying now. Why don’t you want to live with us?’ As soon as she’d asked the question, Jenny regretted it and knew what his answer would be.

‘I do … but … but …’

‘It’s all right, I know,’ Jenny interrupted. ‘Dad frightens you.’

Peter nodded his head and asked, ‘Does he scare you too?’

‘Sometimes, but when he’s in a bad mood it doesn’t last long. He soon gets over it and goes out to the pub.’

‘But he hits you … and I think he’s going to hit me too.’

‘No, he won’t. I won’t allow him to. Dad will never lay a hand on you, not while I have breath in my body. I promise.’

‘Really? Cross your heart and hope to die? Stick a needle in your eye?’

‘Yes, I really, really, promise.’

‘But last time he hit you, an ambulance took you away,’ Peter said and began crying again.

‘But I’m fine now, so you’ve nothing to worry about.’

Timmy appeared with a hanky, scowling as he said, ‘When I grow up, if I see Dad bashing you I’m going to kick his head in!’

‘Timmy, you mustn’t say things like that. Violence doesn’t solve anything. When Mum walked out on us, Dad could’ve sent you to live in a children’s home, but he didn’t. He does his best, and all right, he loses his temper now and then, but as I said before, he soon gets over it.’

Peter sniffed, took the hanky and wiped his nose while Timmy said, ‘It might be nice in a children’s home.’

‘No, love, it wouldn’t be nice at all. Now come on, Peter, no more tears, and no more talk of kicking Dad’s head in, Timmy,’ she said sternly, then, trying to lift their spirits, she forced a smile and said, ‘Now, who would like a biscuit, a nice custard cream?’

There were only three biscuits left and now that Gloria was out of work, and Jenny on unpaid sick leave, she doubted they’d be having any more biscuits in the house for a while. For now, though, two enthusiastic hands shot in the air, and both boys piped up, ‘Me, I’d like one please.’

Jenny handed her brothers the treat and saved the last one for Gloria. The girl had a terrible sweet tooth. With all the sugary snacks Gloria ate she should have been the size of a bus, yet somehow she managed to keep her trim figure. ‘Now that’s sorted I’ll ask Gloria if she’ll take the pair of you to the common later.’

‘Did I hear my name mentioned?’ Gloria asked, as though on cue as she walked into the kitchen. ‘Oh, biscuits, lovely. Where’s mine?’

‘In the tin. I saved you the last one, but surely you’ll want your breakfast first.’

‘One biscuit won’t spoil it,’ Gloria said, and raided the tin.

‘I said you’d take the boys to the common later.’

‘No, not today,’ Gloria answered.

‘Please, Gloria, please take us …’ Timmy begged.

‘Nope, I’ve got far better things to do. You’ll have to wait for Pamela to get back from Gran’s.’

‘What better things?’ Jenny asked.

‘I’ve got my hair to set, my nails to paint, my skirt to take up and then I might see if Dennis is hanging around the ABC Café this afternoon.’

‘I see, and that’s clearly far more important than taking your brothers out today.’

‘Well, yes,’ Gloria said, ‘of course it is.’

‘But we want to go to the common,’ Peter cried.

‘I’ll have to take you, but I can only walk slowly so no running off,’ Jenny told them and as they ran around whooping with glee, she said to Gloria, ‘It’s a fair way to the common and I hope I can manage.’

‘I’m sure you’ll be fine, and a bit of fresh air will do you good.’

Jenny wasn’t surprised by her sister’s selfishness. What Gloria wanted always came first, but at least she’d taken up the reins while Jenny had been out of action. However, now that she was out of bed, it was obvious that Gloria considered her well enough to take over again.

Craig couldn’t get Jenny off his mind, but now it was because he was so worried about her. From what Pamela had said last night, things were beyond bad with their father. He sounded like a nasty piece of work, and not a man that Craig would like to go up against, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Craig wasn’t a fighter, and he’d thought long and hard about what he could do, before he finally came up with what he hoped was a solution. He wasn’t sure Jenny would go for it, but he had to try. It wasn’t ideal, but at least she’d be safe and anything had to be better than living in fear for her life.

Feeling determined, he jumped out of bed and quickly washed and dressed. There was no time for breakfast; he had to act fast. Living under her father’s roof left Jenny in imminent danger. Henry had hospitalised his daughter. What if he went for her again?

As Craig marched to her house, he planned what he was going to say. By the time he arrived, he thought it was clear in his mind and knew it was the right thing to do. He’d never forgive himself if Jenny was hurt again and he hadn’t tried to protect her. He knocked and Gloria answered the door. She looked different without all her make-up on. Younger, more like a child than a woman.

‘You again,’ she said, grinning. ‘It seems you can’t stay away. I suppose you’d like to see Jenny?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘I’ll tell her you’re here. After all, who am I to stand in the way of true love?’

Though a younger sister, she seemed to Craig much bolder than Jenny, especially when she called over her shoulder, ‘Jenny, your handsome lover-boy is at the door … again.’

Craig’s brows rose as two lively boys charged out. ‘Who are you?’ the taller of them asked.

Jenny had spoken of her brothers with deep affection, but this was the first time he’d seen them. ‘I’m Craig, I live upstairs from your gran. What’s your name?’

‘Peter.’

‘Hello, Peter.’

The other boy said something, but as he was running up and down the short front path, Craig couldn’t quite get what he said.

‘Sorry, I’m deaf so I have to see your lips to know what you’re saying. Can you stand still and repeat it, please?’

‘You’re deaf?’ Timmy asked, looking astounded.

‘Yes, that’s right, but I can understand what you are saying by the way your lips move.’

‘I said, my name is Timmy.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Timmy,’ Craig said, smiling down at the lad.

‘So, you can’t hear nothing?’ Timmy asked then turned his back for a few moments before spinning round again. ‘Did you hear what I said then?’

‘Nope, afraid not.’

‘Blimey, Peter, he really is deaf!’ Then Timmy looked at Craig again, and asked, ‘But you know what I’m saying now.’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Wow, can you teach me how to lip-read? I’d know what Terry and Bruce are saying when they’re whispering to each other.’

‘Who are they?’

‘A couple of boys in my class. Will you teach me? Will you?’

Before Craig could answer, Jenny appeared and said, ‘That’s enough, boys, go inside.’

‘But I want to talk to Craig,’ Timmy whined.

‘I said go inside. You can talk to Craig another time. Now do as you’re told or there’ll be no trip to the common.’

‘Hi, Jenny. Did you just say you’re off to the common today?’ Craig asked.

‘Hello and yes.’

‘I know you wasn’t expecting to see me today but I have to talk to you. May I join you?’

‘Go on, Jen, say yes!’ Peter and Timmy urged.

‘If you want – looks like I’m outnumbered anyway,’ Jenny answered, smiling at Craig. ‘Peter, ask Gloria to start making us some sandwiches.’

The boys skipped inside, and looking at Jenny, Craig saw she was blushing again. He found it so endearing.

‘Is everything all right? Is my gran OK?’ she whispered.

‘Yes, as far as I know. That’s not what I want to see you about.’

‘Oh, what is it then?’

‘We’ll talk at the common,’ Craig answered. He was eager to pitch his idea to her, but on the doorstep wasn’t the best place.

Jenny frowned worriedly, then said, ‘I’d invite you in, but my dad’s still in bed and I don’t want to disturb him. If you don’t mind waiting out here, I’ll get myself and the boys ready now.’

‘Of course I don’t mind,’ Craig told her, thinking it was probably just as well that they didn’t disturb her father. He wasn’t sure how he’d react to the man and though he wasn’t one for violence, he wouldn’t stand for him laying into Jenny again.

Jenny quietly closed the door and Craig meandered up the street. He tried to keep his mind focused on his proposition, but seeing her again had flustered him. She did something to him, something he couldn’t explain, but he had to admit, he liked it. Whatever it took, Craig was determined he’d protect her from her father’s brutality and now could only hope she’d allow him to.

Though still in pain, Jenny did her best to hurry up the boys. She stuffed sandwiches into a shopping bag along with some stale bread and a bottle of lemonade.

‘Calm down, Jen, it’s only a stroll on the common,’ Gloria said.

‘I know but look at the state of me, I’m a complete mess.’

‘You look fine.’

‘Where are my shoes?’ she asked frantically, her eyes darting around.

‘In your bedroom I should think.’

Jenny couldn’t run upstairs, but walked as quickly as she could, to find her father emerging from his room.

‘What’s all the fucking commotion about?’ he growled.

‘Sorry, Dad. The boys are a bit excited because I’m taking them to the common, that’s all.’

‘Good. Get a move on and get them out from under my feet then. Where’s your sister? I want some breakfast.’

‘Gloria’s downstairs, Pamela has gone to stay with Gran ’cos she had a fall.’

‘Huh, your mother should be looking after the old girl. Is your gran all right?’

‘Yes, just a bit shaky, I think.’

‘Right. I ain’t got time for your mother, but Edith’s a good woman. ’Ere, take this and get her some flowers or something … make sure you say it’s from you kids though. I don’t want her thinking I’ve gone soft in the head.’

Jenny tried not to show her astonishment as her dad fished in his trouser pocket and handed her five bob. She muttered, ‘Er, right, thanks.’

He barged past her and she stood bewildered as he stomped downstairs. This was turning into a day of surprises. Once in her room, Jenny shoved the money into her purse, put her shoes on, ran a brush through her tangled hair and grabbed a light coat. Although she was still sore, the thought of meeting Craig muffled her pain. She took a last quick glance in the mirror and decided there wasn’t any need to pinch her cheeks: they were red enough already. Too red, in fact, but there was nothing she could do about her persistent blushing.

She drew a long, deep breath, which was a mistake and she gasped at the pain in her ribs. Shallow breathing was all right, and they’d have to walk slowly, but she was thrilled that Craig was joining them. Slowly she walked downstairs, to see Timmy and Peter hovering at the street door. ‘Come on then, boys, let’s go,’ she said, and called, ‘See ya later.’

Craig was casually standing close by, and as she walked up to him, once again her stomach somersaulted. She tried to act cool, though felt sure her glowing neck and cheeks gave her away. ‘Hello again.’

‘That was quick,’ Craig said cheerfully.

‘We was ready before Jenny,’ Timmy piped up.

‘And we’ve got a picnic,’ Peter added, then they ran on ahead.

Craig took the shopping bag from her and frowned. ‘You look a bit uncomfortable. Is this walk going to be too much for you?’

‘As long as we take it slowly I’ll be fine.’

The boys were in a rush, and Jenny had to call them back a few times as they ran on ahead, but eventually they reached the common and stood by the pond.

‘Can we have some bread for the ducks now?’ Peter asked.

‘Yes, here you go,’ Jenny answered. She took the bag from Craig, fished out the stale bread and broke it in two. The boys merrily skipped off and Jenny smiled. It was nice to see them so happy and carefree, especially after how upset Peter had been earlier.

Craig removed his jacket and laid it out on the grass bank. He offered Jenny his hand and helped her to sit down. ‘Penny for them,’ he said.

‘I was just thinking how lovely it is to see the boys relaxed and having fun.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but I can’t imagine it’s easy for any of you with your dad being the way he is.’

He sounded so sincere and sympathetic that Jenny found herself opening up to him. ‘No, it’s not easy. The boys are too young to understand why my dad behaves the way he does. When he loses his temper, it frightens them, and while my sister Pam lives on her nerves, my other sister Gloria is filled with hate. I just wish there was more I could do to protect them.’

‘Well, maybe there is.’

‘I don’t see how,’ Jenny answered. She’d thought long and hard but hadn’t come up with a solution. She couldn’t afford to rent somewhere for them all and even if she tried to squeeze them all in to her gran’s flat, she knew that would be the first place her dad would look.

‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I think you should all move in with me.’

Jenny gasped. Craig’s suggestion had taken her by surprise and the idea seemed ludicrous. ‘But … but we can’t —’

‘Wait, hear me out. I realise space would be tight, but me and the boys could sleep in the lounge and you girls could have the bedroom. It would only have to be temporary. With my earnings, plus yours and Gloria’s wages, we could look for somewhere bigger.’

She gawped at Craig and spluttered, ‘No … no … we … we can’t move in with you. What would people say? I … I’d be labelled a slut.’

‘We can put them straight, tell them we aren’t a couple, and anyway, who cares what people think? This is about getting you all out of harm’s way. I can’t stand the thought of your dad hurting you again and though I know it isn’t ideal, you’d be safe. What do you think?’

Jenny didn’t know what to think. ‘It’s mad, bonkers and … and why would you do that for us?’

Craig rolled his eyes, then took Jenny’s hand. ‘Isn’t it obvious? I know we’ve only just met, but I like you, Jenny. I want to protect you, the boys and your sisters.’

Jenny gazed into Craig’s eyes and felt his offer was genuine. There was no ulterior motive, just an honest offer of help. She was worried about her dad’s increasing violence, and longed to take her siblings to safety, so Craig’s suggestion made sense. It could work, but her reputation would be in shreds. Could she stand the pointing fingers and the gossip? ‘I … I don’t know, Craig. Thank you so much for your offer, but I … I need to think about it.’

‘What’s there to think about? I don’t want to sound like I’m rushing you, but if your father kicks off again and hurts you, I’d never forgive myself for not putting pressure on you to agree.’

‘I know, but, it just doesn’t seem right. Are you sure you’ve thought this through? You’d be giving up a lot by having my family living with you.’

‘Jenny, I’ve been thinking about it all night. Like I said, it wouldn’t be for long and then we’d find somewhere bigger, more suitable, but for now, I’d know that your father couldn’t get to you and I’d sacrifice anything for that sort of peace of mind.’

Jenny was touched by Craig’s concern and had to hold back from crying. The idea was appealing, but she couldn’t shake the worry about what people would think.

Craig squeezed her hand. ‘I didn’t have any breakfast, so what have you put in those sandwiches? Let’s eat, it’ll give you a moment to think.’

Jenny pulled one out, ‘I’m afraid it’s only fish paste.’

‘That’ll do me,’ he said, biting into it with relish.

With her mind all over the place, Jenny watched the boys playing. She thought about Peter’s behaviour earlier, how he didn’t want to live with their father, and of Pamela who was so afraid of him that she constantly wet the bed. What would their father’s reaction be if they all left? He wouldn’t know they were just upstairs from Edith. Yet why was she thinking about that? It was impossible, they couldn’t all move in with Craig! Could they?

Chapter 7

‘I sure do love you, Lizzie, you’re one hell of a gal!’

Lizzie was straddled across Dwight’s naked body. She ran her finger down his bare chest. ‘Yes, I am, and don’t you forget it,’ she said before climbing off him and pulling her blouse around her chest. She walked over to the desk in his bedroom and took a cigarette from a packet. As she lit it, the smoke curled up and made hazy circles in the sunlight beaming through the window.

‘They don’t make gals like you in the US of A, not in Alabama where my momma and papa live.’

‘Yeah, I’m unique. You won’t find many like me in Balham either,’ she said, then sat on his desk with her legs slightly parted.

‘You’re such a tease. It’s only ten in the morning and you’ve already had me up twice. A man needs a bit of time to recover.’

‘If you need to keep your strength up, Dwight, how about you make us some of those delicious pancakes?’

‘I can do that … anything for my pretty gal.’

Dwight stood up and pulled on his underpants. He winked at Lizzie then sloped off to the kitchen. Lizzie threw herself down on his bed and pulled hard on her cigarette as she stared up at the ceiling. She liked being with Dwight in his small flat. She thought his strange accent made him sound a bit thick, but he treated her like a queen. From what he’d told her, she’d learned he was an American GI who’d been posted to London during the war. He’d got a British woman in the family way and had felt obliged to marry her. Lizzie thought that was typical of him, he was so polite. As it turned out, the woman wasn’t pregnant and passed away a few years later. He’d never been back to Alabama, though he said he would one day, and when he did, he’d take Lizzie with him.

She was so wrapped up in Dwight that she hadn’t given a thought to her kids in a while, but Lizzie wasn’t worried about them. They were housed and fed, which was more than she’d been at times. The smell of the sweet pancakes wafted through to the bedroom and she could hear Dwight whistling a tune she didn’t recognise. She wondered if it was one he’d written himself. He played guitar in a band. That’s how she’d met him. She’d been swaying to the jazz and had caught his eye. It had only been a week ago, but she already had her feet firmly rooted under his table.

She heard Dwight call, ‘Hey, pretty lady, your breakfast is ready.’

‘I’ll take it in bed, thanks,’ she called back, and puffed up the pillow behind her.

Dwight came in carrying a tray and asked, ‘Is there anything else you’d like?’

Lizzie eyed him up and down, from his broad, toned chest, to his long, muscular legs. ‘Yes, there is,’ she purred, ‘But after breakfast.’

After some gentle coaxing, Craig had finally persuaded Jenny that moving in with him would be for the best. She’d eventually agreed but he smiled as he recalled her firm stipulation that there was to be no funny business between them. He’d assured her that he would never take advantage of her, though how she thought that could happen with six of them crammed into his small flat was beyond him. He was just relieved that she’d no longer be subjected to her father’s sickening temper.

Since then he’d had a week of frantic activity, arranging extra beds and bedding to accommodate the impending arrival of the Lombard siblings later today. With the beds sorted, he went downstairs to give Edith an update.

‘So, they’re all moving in today? Doing a runner whilst Henry’s at work?’

‘Yes, that’s right. I reckon they’ll be here in about an hour.’

He was pacing the room and repeatedly looking out of the front window.

‘Craig, will you please sit down! It’s making me dizzy just looking at you.’

‘Sorry. I know Jenny said to wait here for them, but I really think I should go and help. What if Henry comes home and catches them? And there’s all their stuff to lug here,’ Craig said, and after only just sitting down he jumped up again, ‘Yes, I’ll go and help, just in case.’

‘Craig!’ Edith shouted, ‘I don’t know why I’m raising me voice ’cos you can’t hear me. If Jenny needed you, she would have said so, wouldn’t she?’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Right, go and make yourself useful and make us both a drink.’

Craig smiled warmly at the old woman, then said, ‘Don’t tell Jenny I got myself all worked up, will you?’

‘No, I shan’t say a word. Go on, bugger off, you silly sod. That kettle won’t boil itself.’

Craig normally felt relaxed and at home in Edith’s flat, but today he was fretting. He’d done everything he could to make his place comfortable for his new lodgers and hoped Jenny would like it. He made the tea and handed Edith a cup.

‘I know what you’re thinking, but stop worrying, young man. Jenny will be happy up there with you. You’ve assured me that there won’t be any funny business going on over my head, yet no doubt there’ll still be gossip. If I hear anything said I’ll put them in their place, but all that matters to me is that Jenny will be away from her father.’

Craig hoped he could keep them all safe but worried that once Henry found out where they were, he’d come storming round to drag them all back. The man could try, and though Craig had no doubt that Henry could flatten him, he’d still fight if he had to. He shook his head as if trying to shake some sense into himself, but it was no use. He knew, if it came to it, he’d put his life on the line for Jenny.

Jenny still had misgivings about moving in with Craig. She knew there’d be gossip, or even women spitting at her in the street. She’d probably be ostracised too, but the thought of being beaten like a dog by her father again was far worse. They’d all be safe at Craig’s, so not just for her own sake, but for the others’ too, she’d agreed.

They were moving out that day, but Gloria leaned against the kitchen table with her arms folded and lips pouting. ‘I ain’t happy about us all being crammed into Craig’s flat. I don’t see why I have to go with you … why can’t I stay here?’

Jenny looked at her sister in disbelief. The girl hated her father, so she couldn’t understand why she’d want to remain living with him.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Gloria snapped. ‘Once you’re gone, I’ll have my own room at last and maybe when you ain’t here he won’t be as bad.’

‘And maybe he’ll beat you up instead of me. Have you thought about that?’

‘Yeah, well, maybe he won’t!’

‘Gloria, listen to yourself. You sound really childish. Anyway, I’m not prepared to leave without you, so either we all stay, or we all go.’

‘That’s blackmail!’

‘I don’t care what it is. I’m only concerned for your safety. So, what will it be?’

Gloria stamped her foot and threw her arms around as she trudged out of the kitchen, shouting, ‘All right, you win … we all go.’

Jenny momentarily closed her eyes and sighed with relief. Gloria digging her heels in was the last thing she’d expected.

‘What’s Gloria on about?’ Timmy asked as he ran into the room with his brother.

‘Yeah, where are we all going?’ from Peter.

Jenny hadn’t told her brothers they were going to live with Craig for fear of one them accidently saying something in front of their father. She’d warned her sisters to say nothing too, but now Gloria had let the cat out of the bag. ‘Right, sit down, I’ve got something to tell you.’

The brothers exchanged a glance, then quickly sat at the table.

‘Do you remember Craig?’

‘Course we do. He’s the deaf bloke,’ answered Timmy.

‘He lives in a flat above Gran, and we’re all moving in with him. Not Dad though, he’ll be staying here.’

‘What, forever? Not just for three days or seven years? We’re going to live with Craig forever? Timmy asked.

‘Yes,’ she said, watching Peter’s face light up. ‘Eventually we’ll have to find a bigger place, but we won’t be coming back here. Craig’s flat is a bit small, and you two will have to share the front room with him while we girls have the bedroom. Hopefully it won’t be for long. I’m back at work on Monday, and I’m sure Gloria will find a job soon, so we’ll be able to find a larger flat or even a little house to rent.’

Gloria stamped back into the kitchen. ‘Are you still going on about me finding a job? I told you, Queenie said I can work part-time in her fag shop, starting next week.’

‘Yes, but I’m not happy about that. You need to be bringing in full-time wages, and that Dennis upstairs will be too much of a distraction for you.’

‘Stop telling me what I can and can’t do! It’s bad enough that you try to dictate where I work and who I see, but now you’re telling me where I’ve got to live too. You’re not my mother!’ Gloria glowered at her sister.

‘No and thank goodness for that! I’d be ashamed to have such a brat as a daughter!’ Jenny snapped. She hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but now it was said she couldn’t retract it. Her sister really was trying her patience.

Gloria threw her a vile look, but Jenny could see it was masking her hurt, then she spun on her heels and walked out.

‘Gloria … wait … I’m sorry,’ Jenny called.

Pamela then slipped into the room and asked, ‘What’s the matter with Gloria? What’s going on?’

‘I said something I shouldn’t and now she’s got a strop on,’ Jenny replied, rubbing her forehead in despair. She’d hoped this would be a happy day, but it didn’t appear to be for Gloria. ‘I’ll just have to grovel a bit and maybe she’ll come round.’

‘We’re all moving into Craig’s flat and Daddy isn’t coming,’ Peter said with gusto.

At least the boys were pleased, and though Pamela didn’t show her feelings, Jenny knew she was too. ‘Will you take your brothers upstairs and help them to pack their things?’ she asked her sister. ‘Remember, only take what they really need. There won’t be room for everything.’

The boys ran upstairs with Pamela following. Jenny relished the silence as she pulled a notepad and pencil from her pocket. She sat at the table and began to write.

Dad,

I’ve taken the boys and my sisters to live somewhere else.

I’m sure this won’t come as too much of a shock to you, and I don’t suppose you’ll be sad about it.

I know you did your best, but it wasn’t good enough.

Take care,

Jenny

The note was short, simple and to the point. She couldn’t bring herself to sign off ‘with love’ or to add any kisses. She didn’t feel the need to spell out their reasons for leaving as she figured he must be aware of the pain he’d caused her, and how much he’d scared his own children. She pushed the note to the middle of the table and took one last look around the kitchen. It was the only home she’d ever known. She and her siblings had all been born in this house, but she wasn’t sad to say goodbye to it. Any happy memories she’d once had were tarnished now by her father’s viciousness.

Their home had been ruined the day their mother had left it.

Later that evening, Henry was fuming as he marched out of the pub and stomped home. He hadn’t liked hearing that Lizzie was now hooked up with an American musician, and she’d already been throwing rumours around about marrying the bloke. One week! She’d been shacked up with the wanker for one week and she was talking wedding bells.

‘Over my dead body,’ Henry muttered through gritted teeth. She couldn’t marry the idiot if she wasn’t divorced, and there wasn’t a hope in hell of him agreeing to one.

When he arrived home, Henry was too wrapped up in spiteful thoughts about Lizzie to realise that his kids weren’t around. He marched through to the kitchen, expecting his dinner would be in the oven, but he couldn’t eat. Instead, he reached to the top of the larder for his bottle of whiskey. He dragged out a wooden chair and slumped down, then unscrewed the bottle to take several large glugs of the alcohol before shouting, ‘Where the fuck is everyone? Jenny!’

As Henry was about to take another swig from the bottle, he noticed the note on the table. He reached out, grabbed it and read it through bleary eyes. ‘Huh, so you’ve all fucked off … just like your mother, the fucking lot of you! See if I care. See how you manage without my pay packet.’

He read the note again, but it didn’t occur to him that he could be the reason they’d left. He didn’t look at himself and question why. He screwed the note up and threw it to the floor before drinking from the bottle again. Sod the lot of them. His house and his life would be quiet from now on and that suited him fine. He’d have more money in his pocket, and with the kids gone there’d be no excuse for Lizzie to turn up. He might miss the boys a bit, but he didn’t want to set eyes on any of the bitches again; no, he didn’t want to see his wife or his daughters.

Chapter 8

It was mid-June and Jenny had been living at Craig’s for a month now. She’d felt awkward at first, especially about Craig seeing her first thing in the morning with her wild red hair. Now, though, she was more relaxed and they’d all settled into a routine. All except for Gloria. Jenny had expected her sister to show Craig a bit more gratitude but instead she was often nasty to him and made it quite clear that she didn’t enjoy living there. Jenny took some solace in knowing they’d all be moving to a larger home, just as soon as she and Craig had saved enough money. She hoped Gloria would then be happier and a bit more charitable towards her brothers and sister too.

Jenny heard a tap on the front door and felt herself tense. She still feared her father would find them, though as far as she knew he hadn’t been to their gran’s to look for them. She glanced across at Pamela. The girl was sitting on the sofa eating her breakfast but had turned deathly white.

‘What’s wrong?’ Craig asked.

‘There’s someone knocking on the door,’ Jenny answered.

‘What, up here?’

‘Yes … w-w-what if …’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll answer it,’ Craig said reassuringly.

Moments later, Jenny heard muffled laughter and once again relaxed. Then Craig returned to the front room carrying a large box wrapped in brown paper. He looked to be struggling so Jenny suspected the package was heavy.

‘It was a delivery I’ve been expecting. Edith had let him in downstairs.’

‘What’s in the box?’ Timmy asked as he and Peter ran in from the bathroom.

‘A surprise,’ Craig answered and placed it in the middle of the floor.

‘Is it a surprise for us?’ Peter asked.

‘It’s for all of us.’

Timmy ran forward and sat next to the box. ‘Can we open it?’

‘Wait for Gloria, then we can all open it together.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about her, she’ll be ages in the bedroom doing her face,’ Jenny said. As much as she loved her sister, she didn’t want Gloria’s mood or scathing comments spoiling the moment when the mystery in the box was unveiled.

‘All right then. Go on, boys, you can open it.’

Jenny watched with delight as her brothers tore at the brown paper, then Craig helped them. She heard Peter squeal, and Timmy jumped up and down excitedly. ‘What is it?’ she asked, intrigued.

Peter spun around to look at her and said, ‘It’s a television set! I can watch Andy Pandy!’

Jenny gasped. Many homes now had televisions, but they’d never had one. Part of her wanted to be annoyed at Craig for being so extravagant when they were supposed to be saving for a home, but seeing the thrilled faces of her brothers melted away her annoyance. ‘Wow, that must have cost a packet,’ she commented, but with a smile.

‘Actually, it didn’t. My uncle sent it for us. He said he hardly uses it and thought we’d appreciate it.’

‘How kind of him. Yes, the boys will definitely appreciate it, I should think even Gloria will like it too.’

‘What will I like?’ Gloria asked as she sauntered into the room.

Jenny thought her sister looked very pretty and glamorous but it was a shame about her miserable face. Perhaps the surprise would cheer her up? ‘Craig’s uncle has sent us a television set and I said you’d like it.’

‘Yeah, right, as if I’d ever get a chance to watch anything that I’d like to see.’

Jenny pursed her lips but didn’t respond. Nothing seemed to be good enough for Gloria lately and her negative attitude was beginning to get on Jenny’s nerves.

‘Can we watch something now?’ Timmy asked.

‘No, not at the moment. I’ve got to set it up and you’ve got to go to school, but when you get home this evening, you can watch the television then.’

‘Please, just for a little while?’

‘There’s no time. Come on, boys, we’ll be late for school,’ Pamela said, and ushered them from the room.

‘I’m off too, see ya,’ Gloria said and followed her siblings.

‘Aren’t you going to be late?’ Craig asked Jenny.

‘Actually, I’ve got the day off. The dock strike has affected the factory getting parts in time so Miss Aston offered us a day off, unpaid mind.’

‘Well, seeing as I’m my own boss, how about I skive off today and we can spend it together, unless you’ve already got plans?’

‘No, nothing planned, that would be great.’

‘In that case, let’s jump on the underground up to Trafalgar Square and we can have a look in the National Gallery.’

‘At art?’

‘Yes, why? Not your cup of tea?’

‘No, not really. It’s such a nice day, couldn’t we just walk around London and look at the sights?’

‘If that’s what you want. I couldn’t care less what we do, as long as I’m with you.’

Jenny could feel herself blushing again, but she felt the same. In fact, she missed Craig when she was at work and was always eager to get home to be with him. Still embarrassed by his comment, she said, ‘And we could pick up some fish and chips for supper tonight.’

‘Smashing,’ he replied, ‘I’ll get this set up and then we can go.’

He lightly brushed his lips on hers before turning his attention to the television. Jenny was left feeling like an electric current was buzzing through her. Even the slightest of touches from Craig excited her and there were times when she dreamed about creeping to be beside him on the sofa at night. Of course, she wouldn’t dare and Craig had kept his promise about no funny business, so they hadn’t done anything more than kiss. She would have liked to go further and she thought Craig would too, but it wasn’t possible, not unless they were married.

It was odd, living together but separately, but she was so glad Craig had talked her into it. He’d rescued her, saved her life, and she’d never been happier. If only Gloria could be happy too, then everything would be perfect.

Henry woke up. Though his children had left home over a month ago, he hadn’t adjusted to the silence. The house felt empty without them. He’d thought about finding them to bring them back but Jenny and Gloria were old enough to leave home and would probably refuse. That meant there’d only be Pamela to do the cooking and cleaning, along with looking after the boys, and he doubted the jumpy cow was up to it.

So far he hadn’t seen Lizzie, but like a bad penny he knew she’d eventually turn up. When she did, he’d take great pleasure in telling her that all the kids had buggered off and there was no need to show her face at his door again.

Henry put the kettle on the gas to boil and decided that once and for all, he was better off without the lot of them. He had more money in his pockets, and though the house might feel empty, it was nice and quiet. He looked at his watch. He’d have to get a move on or he’d be late for work, but his stomach growled. As he removed the lid from the bread bin, Henry recoiled in disgust at the green, mouldy loaf. The milk was no better – it had curdled – and he doubted the last remaining egg would be fresh enough to eat.

Frustrated, he slumped on a chair, then kicked the one in front of him. His eyes roamed the room and he realised how much he’d let the place go. It was filthy. Plates and cups filled the sink, and flies were buzzing around. He couldn’t stand it, but he had no intention of cleaning it. That was women’s work, and with no daughters at home and a tart for a wife, he decided he’d have to find himself a new one. This time, though, he’d make sure she was barren and wouldn’t be the sort to answer back.

Chapter 9

Jenny walked towards the factory gates still on a high from the day before. They’d had a lovely day, she and Craig, but the time had flown by so quickly. He’d taken her down Carnaby Street, which had been amazing. A new restaurant had just opened that Craig told her was vegetarian. She thought that was very peculiar and couldn’t imagine a dinner with just spuds and veg.

She wished they could have more days like yesterday. She’d been so carefree with Craig and all her worries had felt far behind her. She’d laughed when he’d splashed her with water from the fountain at Piccadilly Circus, and she’d giggled when he’d chased her up and down the steps of Nelson’s Column, threatening to squidge an ice-cream cone in her face. Today, though, it was back to reality and Jenny prepared herself for another tedious day on the factory line.

She didn’t mind the work; it was easy enough, and the factory were fair employers. The women she worked alongside were nice enough, though Jenny often found them brash and loud. They enjoyed a good gossip, but she rarely joined in. Now she hoped they wouldn’t discover that she was living with Craig as she would surely become a topic of their conversation.

As Jenny approached the gates, she heard the sound of a large vehicle trundling down the road and glanced over her shoulder. She was suddenly struck with fear when, to her horror, she realised it was a dustcart. She had no idea if her father was on the truck and panicked. Instead of darting for cover, she stood transfixed, staring at the cart as it drew closer. Her breaths became fast and shallow and the world began to spin. Run, Jenny, run, she told herself, but her trembling legs wouldn’t budge.

As the truck slowly passed, Jenny turned her head and followed it with her eyes. Her father wasn’t riding on the back and Jenny’s body slumped with relief. She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm herself. That had been close, far closer than she felt comfortable with. She had no idea how her father would have reacted if he’d seen her, but it was something she’d rather not discover.

Jenny resumed walking but picked up her pace. She was safe in the factory, out of harm’s way. She was safe at home too, thanks to Craig, and wished she was back there now, secure in his reassuring arms. He knew what she’d been through and had sworn he’d always look after her. She believed he would, but he couldn’t be with her every minute of every day, and moments like just now made her realise how much she still lived in terror of her father.

Gloria detested every minute of living in Craig’s flat. Being in such close proximity to everyone drove her mad and she began to dislike them all. Jenny was a goody-two-shoes, Pamela was a wimp, the boys were irritating and Craig, well, Craig was deaf and as far as she was concerned that was a good enough reason not to like him. At least she could make scathing remarks about him behind his back and he couldn’t hear her. It was something she did regularly to amuse herself, much to Jenny’s disgust.

Gloria grimaced. Then there was her gran living downstairs and too close. She was always spoiling the boys and singing Jenny’s praises. Gloria couldn’t stand listening to her, so she’d stopped popping in to see the old woman. She didn’t miss her.

She’d also defied Jenny and was now working part-time in Queenie’s. She refused to hand over any of her wages, using the excuse that she didn’t eat at Craig’s so why should she contribute? Craig didn’t have to pay extra rent because they were living there. And what Jenny gave him would cover any larger bills. The sooner she got out of there, Gloria thought, the better.

That morning, she stood behind the shop counter and smiled wryly when she heard Dennis’s footsteps above. He was out of his bed at last, and Gloria knew he’d be down to see her soon. She quickly grabbed her handbag to pull out a compact and her red lipstick, making the effort as always to look nice for her man. They’d been seeing each other for three weeks now, since the morning when he’d called into the shop and she’d caught his eye. Gloria would often slip up to his room after work. It made working in Queenie’s far more enjoyable.

‘Hello, gorgeous, how’s my favourite girl this morning?’ Dennis drawled as he sauntered into the shop.

‘I’m not just your favourite girl, I’m your only girl,’ Gloria said, and slipped him a packet of cigarettes. She had no intention of putting the money for them in the till. She would often pinch a bob or two as well. She reasoned it was no more than she deserved, since Queenie paid such crap wages.

‘Are you coming up to mine later when you’ve finished?’

‘Yeah, but can’t you stay down here for a bit and keep me company? It’s quiet today and I’m bored,’ Gloria asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

‘Queenie doesn’t like me hanging about in the shop.’

‘Well, Queenie isn’t here, is she?’

‘All right, but only for half an hour.’

‘Thanks, Dennis. That’s cheered me up.’

‘Why, what are you unhappy about?’

‘Everything! You’re the only good thing in my life. I hate living at Craig’s. Can you imagine what it’s like? Six of us all crammed into a one-bedroom flat. Every time I go in the bathroom, someone starts hammering on the door for me to hurry up. There’s no privacy or anything. Gawd, I could go on, but I don’t want to bore you.’

Dennis put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up, his own just inches from hers. ‘Move in with me then?’

They were the words Gloria had been desperate to hear. ‘But what about your mum? Won’t she mind?’

‘Bugger my mother. You’ll be in my room with me. It’s my home too so I can have whoever I want to stay with me.’

‘Oh, Dennis,’ Gloria squealed, and threw her arms around his neck. ‘You’re the best!’

As soon as she’d done her hours in the shop, Gloria rushed to Craig’s flat, eager to collect her things and move in with Dennis. This was a dream come true for her. She’d be living with the man she loved instead of a family who got on her nerves.

When she arrived, the flat was empty. Pamela and the boys were at school, and Jenny and Craig were at work. Before grabbing a bag, she glanced at the television set in the corner of the lounge. How stupid, she thought, there was barely enough room in the place already, without adding that monstrosity.

She quickly shoved some clothes into the bag, then dashed to the bathroom to pick up her toothbrush and bubble bath. The bottle was half-empty, so she guessed her brothers had been using it again. It was just another thing that annoyed her and reinforced her decision to leave.

Gloria was about to leave, but then as an afterthought decided she’d better write them a note. If she just went missing, Jenny would turn up at the shop looking for her and no doubt there’d be an argument. After rummaging in the kitchen drawers she found an old envelope and a pen, then quickly scribbled a few lines about where she was. To appease Jenny, she said she’d pop in to see them soon. That should do, she thought, keen to get back to Dennis, and she left the note on the shelf above the fireplace.

When she flew back downstairs and outside, Gloria paused for a moment, lifting her face to the sun’s warmth. She felt invigorated and free, no longer constrained by her family and their problems. There’d be nobody to tell her what to do or when to do it. No responsibility of young children. Her life was finally her own, and she intended to enjoy it.

Craig arrived home before Jenny to be greeted by Pamela looking more anxious than usual. ‘What’s troubling you?’ he asked as he took off his work boots.

Pamela didn’t say anything but handed him a note. The writing was scribbled, probably rushed, and difficult to decipher, but once he read it Craig’s heart sank. This was sure to upset Jenny. ‘Oh, blimey,’ he said.

Peter and Timmy were playing with their toy cars, but Peter looked up and asked, ‘What’s going on?’

‘It’s all right, mate. Nothing to worry about.’

Jenny arrived home minutes later, breezing through the door looking happy. ‘Hello, you lot,’ she said. ‘It’s a scorcher out there today.’

Craig didn’t want to break the bad news to her, but knew he had no choice. He stood in front of her, and the second Jenny saw his face, her own dropped.

‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘It’s not my father, is it? I saw a dustcart earlier but I don’t think he was on it. Has he been round here on the warpath?’

‘No, love, but come and sit down. Pam, take your brothers to your room or down to see your gran,’ Craig said.

Once the room was clear, Jenny looked at him, searching for answers. ‘You’re worrying me,’ she whispered.

‘It’s not that bad but read this.’

Jenny took the note and gasped. ‘She can’t do this. They can’t live together, they’re not married! I’m going straight round there, and if I have to I’ll drag her back screaming and shouting.’

‘Do you think that’s wise? I mean, you know how strong-willed she is.’

‘Gloria is hardly more than a child and that Dennis is no good for her. Oh, the silly, silly girl. I can’t just leave her there.’

‘Right then, I’ll come with you.’

After ensuring that Pamela and the boys were all right with their gran, Jenny walked beside Craig in silence. Her mind was in turmoil thinking about how she would deal with her sister. Craig was right, Gloria was strong-willed, and Jenny doubted she’d be able to talk any sense into her. If Gloria refused to come home, it was unlikely she’d be able to drag her back.

A narrow door next to Queenie’s shop opened onto stairs that led up to Dennis’s flat. At the top, Jenny rang the doorbell. Thelma, his mother, answered it. She was a skinny woman with a deeply lined and drawn face. Jenny had never seen her without a cigarette hanging from the side of her mouth, and her black hair was always in curlers, covered with a scarf. She seldom cracked a smile, and when she spoke her voice was hard.

‘I guessed you’d turn up when you heard.’

‘Gloria left a note saying she was here. Is she in?’

‘Yeah. She’s just like your mother, that one, as bold as bleedin’ brass. I told her I don’t want her here but the pair of them are in Dennis’s room and taking not a blind bit of notice of me. Come in. You can try talking to her. I hope she’ll listen to you, but I somehow doubt it.’

As Jenny stepped inside, Craig behind her, Thelma asked, ‘Who’s this then? Your boyfriend? I’ve heard talk that you’re living together.’

‘Er, yes, but it’s not like that. We share a flat but sleep in separate rooms.’

‘It doesn’t matter to me what you do. It ain’t none of my business and all I care about is getting that sister of yours out of my house. Go on through there, second on your left.’

Jenny and Craig stood in the hallway outside Dennis’s door as Thelma disappeared into another room. Jenny tapped nervously, then waited.

‘Go away,’ Dennis shouted.

‘It’s Jenny … I’d like to talk to Gloria.’

‘Tough. She doesn’t want to talk to you.’

Jenny looked at Craig, but he couldn’t hear what was being said through the door.

‘Gloria … please open the door. We need to talk.’

She heard some muffled giggles and frantic whispers, then the door eventually opened. Gloria stood there, her chest pushed out defiantly as she said, ‘I’m not coming back with you, so if that’s all you’ve come to say, forget it.’

She went to close the door again, but Jenny pushed against it and pleaded, ‘Wait. At least listen to what I’ve got to say.’

There was a pause, then Gloria prompted, ‘Go on then, spit it out.’

‘I know it’s not easy, the six of us in a small flat, but we’re working hard to change that. We think we’ll have enough money saved for a deposit on a bigger place soon, maybe even a house. Please, Gloria, come home.’

‘No way. I’m happy where I am.’

‘But you can’t live here. You’re not married.’

‘That’s rich, coming from you,’ Gloria sneered. ‘You and Craig are living together too.’

‘That’s different and you know it. Craig and I don’t share a bed.’

‘No, you’re too bloody prudish for anything like that!’

Jenny heard Dennis snigger. ‘You can’t stay,’ Jenny insisted, ‘Anyway, Thelma doesn’t want you living here.’

‘Well I do, so tough,’ Dennis said as he came to stand next to Gloria.

Jenny ignored him. ‘Please, Gloria, come home. You can help me to find a nice house and Dennis can start courting you properly.’

Gloria laughed. ‘Listen to yourself. Courting! Next you’ll expect to be our chaperone.’

‘Don’t be silly. It’s a bit late for that.’

‘Yeah, it is, and I’m staying put, so see ya!’ Gloria snapped as she slammed the door in their faces.

Jenny banged on it again and again, but Dennis just shouted for them to bugger off. She felt Craig’s hand on her arm and then he said, ‘Come on, love. She’s not going to come back with us, so we might as well go home.’

As Craig led her along the hallway, Thelma appeared, leaning against a doorway. ‘Waste of time then?’ she asked.

‘Yes, but I had to try. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Thelma.’

‘Yeah, whatever.’

Once they were back outside, Jenny found herself having to fight back tears. She felt she’d failed her sister and worried about the girl’s future. Her own reputation was probably ruined, and now Gloria’s would be too. She had to do something. ‘Gloria won’t listen to me, but maybe she’ll take notice of my mum,’ she said.

Craig looked surprised, then asked, ‘Do you know where she is?’

‘No, but if she went round my dad’s to see the boys, he’d have told her we’ve all left home. You’d have thought she’d look for us, maybe wait for me outside the factory to find out where we’re living.’

‘Perhaps she hasn’t been round to your dad’s.’

‘It’s possible. When she gets a new boyfriend my mother becomes too wrapped up in him to bother about us. She’s probably shacking up with one now, but I’ll find her,’ Jenny told him, determined to do just that and keep her family together.

Chapter 10

Timmy came running from the bedroom with one of Jenny’s stockings over his head and a bag over his shoulder. He began creeping around the front room and putting ornaments in the bag. Jenny watched, wondering what her brother was up to. Next came Peter, running in from the kitchen, and she saw with amusement that he had a saucepan on his head, and his hand clutched a rolling pin.

‘Stop, you’re under arrest,’ Peter shouted, trying to make his voice sound very deep.

Timmy giggled, and dashed to hide behind the curtains.

‘We’re playing cops and robbers,’ Peter announced, smiling at Jenny with a big toothless grin.

‘Yes, I can see that,’ she said, stifling a chortle. Timmy’s face looked funny with a stocking over it, his nose flattened, and Peter looked more like something from outer space than a policeman. But they were enjoying themselves, and as far as Jenny was concerned, that was all that mattered. The boys didn’t seem to mind the cramped living conditions, she mused. In fact, they were thriving. Timmy’s nightmares had stopped, and Peter no longer cried for their mum. Even Pamela hadn’t had one of her nightly accidents for two weeks and was beginning to come out of her shell. Everyone was happy … except Gloria.

‘Listen up, boys. Pam is downstairs cooking dinner with your gran. You’ll be eating down there today, but I want you to promise me you’ll be very good. Your gran has a sore knee, so no getting her running around after you, OK?’

‘OK,’ Peter agreed.

‘Is you and Craig eating downstairs too?’ Timmy asked.

‘Are you and Craig,’ Jenny corrected him. ‘No, love, we’ve got some things to do today. We’ll be back before your bedtime and Craig will finish that story he’s been reading to you.’

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