that ain’t surprising. Bloody hell, seven of them, and noisy little sods they are too!’
‘That’s just it. I think she could manage the older ones, but little Archie is nearly three now and James four. They’re too much of a handful for her.’
Cyril shrugged, his eyes going back to his newspaper. ‘They’ll soon grow up and join the others at school.’
Alice stiffened, determined to keep his attention. ‘Tom Chambers isn’t any help. When he’s not at work, he’s in the pub and rolls home drunk all hours.’
‘Have a heart, Alice. The man’s just lost his wife.’
‘Huh! He’s been like it since he was demobbed. As for losing Myra, it’s been six months now, and if you ask me, things can’t go on the way they are.’
‘He had a rough time of it, and Tom’s one of many who can’t pick up the pieces. Anyway, I reckon you should keep your nose out of it. What goes on upstairs is none of our business.’
‘Myra was my best friend, and for that reason I think it is my business. I’ve been trying to help Emma as much as I can. In fact, to give her a break so she can keep up with the housework and laundry, I’ve been looking after Archie and James for a few hours every day, but it’s rotten for her in the evenings too. She never gets the chance to go out with her friends now, and from what she’s told me, they’ve all drifted away.’
‘I don’t see why the older lads can’t look after the younger ones now and then.’
‘Since when have lads taken on babysitting?’
Cyril pursed his lips. ‘Well, it’s good of you to help her out, but I hope you’re not suggesting babysitting in the evenings.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Good, and don’t go wearing yourself out looking after Archie and James during the day.’ On that note he seemed to lose interest, his eyes going back to his crossword.
‘Cyril Moon! I’m not an old woman! I’m only thirty-eight and quite capable of looking after a couple of kids. In fact, I enjoy it.’
‘All right, there’s no need to shout.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that I want to put something to you and I’m all of a dither.’
His head tipped to one side, brow creased. ‘Well, you’d best spit it out.’
‘It’s like this. You see, I’ve been thinking…’ She hesitated, trying to find the words.
‘Go on.’
With a spurt, Alice said, ‘You know I love kids, Cyril, but we ain’t been lucky, have we? We’ve tried and tried, and though the doctor said there’s no reason why I can’t fall, well, it hasn’t happened.’
‘We needn’t give up, and anyway, it’s fun trying,’ he said, winking lewdly.
Alice had to smile, but then her face straightened. ‘Cyril, fun or not, we’ve been married fifteen years and it’s time we faced the facts. We’re never going to have kids of our own.’
His lips pursed. ‘Yeah, maybe you’re right, but never mind, love. We’ve still got each other.’
‘I know we have, but as I said, I’ve been looking after little Archie and James, and I’ve grown very fond of them. I…I was wondering if we could take them on.’
‘Take them on! What do you mean? Surely you’re not talking about adoption?’
‘Well, not right away, but maybe later, if they settle with us.’
‘No!’ he said emphatically. ‘I don’t fancy taking on another bloke’s kids.’
‘Please, Cyril.’
‘No, and that’s final!’
At his tone, her expression became a contrived one of despair.
‘Alice, don’t look at me like that. Surely you don’t seriously expect me to take on Tom’s little brats?’
‘They aren’t brats!’ Alice cried, jumping to her feet. ‘They’re lovely little boys who need love, attention, and a stable home. We can give them that!’
Cyril voice hardened. ‘Pack it in, Alice. Doing your nut ain’t gonna make any difference. I said no, and that’s that.’
Alice flopped back onto her chair and, throwing up her apron to cover her face, she began to cry, sobs shaking her shoulders. She should have known he wouldn’t agree, but as minutes passed, a hand touched her shoulder.
‘Come on, don’t take on so. Surely it doesn’t mean that much to you?’
‘Oh, Cyril, you have no idea how much I’ve longed for a baby, ached to hold our son or daughter in my arms. It’s never going to be, but whilst looking after the boys I really have come to love them. Archie is like a little monkey, and likes nothing better than to be cuddled. He used to latch on to Dick, but now that the boy’s working, he’s turned to me. James is cheeky, but not in a bad way, and he’s gorgeous, with his blond hair and grey eyes.’
‘Dick! Working? This is the first I’ve heard of it.’
Alice mopped her eyes. ‘He was fifteen in March and has got himself a job on the market, working on Charlie Roper’s stall.’
‘Has he now? Well, he’ll do all right with Charlie, but the lad would have been better off learning a trade.’
‘Yes, maybe, but as an apprentice he’d only be paid peanuts, and though he doesn’t earn a great deal on the stall, it’s been a godsend. They couldn’t cope without it.’
Cyril returned to his chair, his expression thoughtful, and Alice knew to keep her mouth shut. She sat quietly, her breath held and fingers secretly crossed as she watched his face.
At last he sighed and their eyes met. ‘All right, Alice. If it means that much to you, we’ll give it a go with the kids. Mind you, don’t count your chickens yet. I can’t see Tom wanting to give them up just like that.’
Once again she jumped to her feet, kissing Cyril on the cheek. ‘The pub isn’t open yet, so he’s sure to be in. I’ll go and have a word with him now.’
‘You do that, but as I said, don’t count your…’
But the door had already slammed shut, Alice not hearing the rest of her husband’s warning as she hurried upstairs.
Tom couldn’t stand the noise and had chucked the kids out. At last the room was quiet. Only Emma remained, perched on a low wooden stool, her face set in concentration as she endeavoured to sew a patch onto a pair of trousers. He glanced at her and the pain of his loss was like a blow to his stomach. Christ, she was so like her mother, with the same golden blonde hair and vivid blue eyes. As if sensing his scrutiny, Emma raised her head, lips curling in distaste as her cold gaze met his. He seethed. She should show him some bloody respect, but instead she hardly spoke
