to put the kettle on, Nettie. And you, Lillian, go and help her.’
Susan, her voice brittle with strain, steered the conversation into a discussion of the weather. Everyone seemed relieved when tea was ready and they could move into the next room. In the hallway, Susan caught hold of James’s arm.
‘How could you?’ she whispered accusingly.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Be so rude to Mrs Parker.’
‘I’m not. I’m being perfectly polite.’
‘James, please.’
He relented. She was his sister, after all, and she wanted to make a good impression on these awful people. ‘OK, sis.’
They went into what was usually the guests’ breakfast room, where the small tables had been pushed together to make one large one. Plates of sandwiches and dishes of shrimps and cockles and whelks were set out all along it. James made a beeline to where Wendy was sitting, but found himself outmanoeuvred. She was flanked by her father on one side and Frank on the other. The only spare seat was between Bob and the kid. James sat down, resigned to being bored.
Eating, making polite remarks about the food and discussing the best place to buy fresh seafood took up most of the meal. James let them get on with it, while he tried not to stare at Wendy. He was surprised to find Lillian speaking to him.
‘You work in the garage, then?’ she said.
‘Yup.’
‘So you’re good at fixing things?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Only I’ve got this bike, see. I bought it at a jumble sale but it won’t go properly.’
Despite himself, James was interested.
‘If someone’s sent it to the jumble, it must be pretty bad. How rusty is it?’
‘Quite a lot,’ Lillian admitted.
‘And do the pedals go round?’
‘No.’
From the other side of the table, Frank joined in. ‘It’s a heap of junk. Best thing to do with it is to give it to the rag-and-bone man.’
‘It’s not a heap of junk,’ Lillian said.
Frank gave that sneering grin of his. ‘Junk,’ he repeated.
‘Have you had a go at it for her? Given it an oiling or anything?’ James asked.
‘Got better things to do with my time, mate.’
‘Pig,’ Lillian muttered.
James felt sorry for her. It must be pretty grim having Frank and Bob as big brothers, and that old hag ordering her around all the time.
‘I’ll have a look at it for you, if you like,’ he offered.
Her sharp little face lit up. ‘Would you? Really?’
‘’Course. After tea, if you like.’
‘Oh—I got to do the washing-up.’
‘After that, then,’ James offered.
So he found himself half an hour later in the back yard. Lillian disappeared into a rickety shed and wheeled out a rusty ladies’ bike. James was pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t as ancient as he had thought it would be.
‘It’s a Raleigh, and that’s good for a start,’ he said, trying the brakes, examining the chain. ‘The parts will be easy to get. You know what I think? This has been dumped in someone’s back yard for years in all weathers. The tyres aren’t very worn—see, there’s plenty of tread on them—but they’re cracked from neglect. There’s even quite a bit of wear in the brake blocks, once I get the brakes going again.’
‘They will work, then?’ Lillian said.
‘Oh, yes, nothing that a good clean and a bit of oil won’t fix. That saddle has had it, but you could put an old beret over it for now, if you’ve got one. You’ll have to buy new tyres and inner tubes, though. Can you afford that?’
‘I’ll save up my paper round money.’
‘Good, well, if you get on with getting rid of all this rust—’ He explained what to do, while Lillian listened and nodded. ‘You don’t mind getting your hands dirty, then?’ he asked. It wasn’t a job that Susan would have considered tackling.
‘Oh, no. Not if it means I’ll have a bike to ride. But what about the brakes and the chain?’
‘I can’t do it now ’cos I’ve got my best stuff on and I haven’t any tools with me, but I’ll come back and do it next weekend, if you like,’ James offered.
‘Would you really?’ Lillian sounded amazed. She was looking at him with glowing eyes. ‘You’ll come back and do it for me?’
James didn’t like to tell her that it was worth it to have the chance of running in to Wendy again.
‘’Course,’ he said.
‘Wow! That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.’
For a moment he thought she was going to fling her arms round him, but instead she veered away and turned a perfect cartwheel, allowing a glimpse of her long slim legs and her navy knickers.
James clapped and Lillian laughed with pleasure.
‘I was dreading this tea party, but now I’m really glad you came,’ she confided.
‘Me too,’ James agreed.
He never thought he would admit it, but Boring Bob’s family had turned out to be much more interesting than he’d expected.
Chapter Three
‘WHERE are you off to, squirt?’ Frank demanded, barring Lillian’s way downstairs.
‘None of your beeswax,’ Lillian told him, making to dodge under his arm.
She wasn’t quite quick enough. Frank caught hold of her wrist.
‘Not so fast, squirt. You’re supposed to be helping.’
It was the time of the dreaded spring clean. All the paintwork had to be washed, all the windows cleaned, inside and out, the curtains taken down and washed, the carpets and rugs taken outside and beaten, the floors scrubbed, the fireplaces scoured and the furniture polished. Everyone, even the men, was supposed to be helping. Gran, of course, was organising it all. She didn’t actually do any physical work.
‘I’ve done mine,’ Lillian said. Her hands were red and raw from the sugar soap solution she had been using to wash the paint in all the first floor rooms.
