because they haven’t got a woman to look after them,’ Winnie explained. ‘There’s four grown men in that flat. A father and three sons. All the boys are working so they can’t be stupid. But they ain’t got no idea how to keep a place clean. That’s not what the main trouble is, though. Gambling, that’s what’s caused all their problems.’
‘How do you know that?’ demanded Cora.
‘It’s common knowledge,’ said Winnie. ‘The father is always down the bookies. Takes his lads in with him sometimes. Throws away all their money on the horses or the dogs. He’s ruined his family, hasn’t got time for anything else. They say his wife died and you know what, I’d say it was a blessing. If my Peter started gambling I’d have to throw him out. I can’t be having that.’
‘Quite right too,’ agreed Cora. She’d no time for gamblers either. There was nothing wrong with the odd flutter on the Grand National but that was where it stopped. She’d seen people get sucked into it, always believing they’d strike it lucky if they gave it just one more go. No, that was the quick road to ruin.
‘As I said, when Beryl came round yesterday, she didn’t want to go home.’ Winnie shook her head. ‘Says her life isn’t worth living with those Lannings bringing the place into disrepute. I told her, go and report them to the landlord. But I don’t know if she will. That landlord takes ages to get off his backside and do anything.’
‘That’s landlords for you,’ said Cora.
‘They don’t like putting themselves to any trouble, do they? Not as long as their rent’s being paid.’ Winnie sighed. ‘Anyway, better be getting back. Nice talking to you.’ She put her aspirin in her bag and left.
Cora didn’t envy Winnie’s sister. Bothersome neighbours were a curse in these streets where the houses were so tightly packed together. Everyone knew each other’s business simply by hearing it all through the walls or open windows. She thanked her lucky stars that they’d had no trouble for a while. She’d lived in Ennis Street for so long that she knew everyone’s histories.
As if on cue, her next customer was Neville’s mother, Jill Parrot. She didn’t know the woman that well, but if they were to be family then that would change. She liked the look of her. Jill kept herself looking smart, even though you could tell her clothes weren’t top quality.
‘Good morning, Mrs Butler!’ she said. ‘Clearing up, isn’t it? We might get a nice day after all.’
‘Call me Cora. We can’t be having all this Mrs business now your Neville’s going to marry our Hazel.’
‘I’m sorry we’ve not had a chance to get together to celebrate the engagement. I’m afraid I’ve been down with a lousy cold. We’re so happy that Neville is going to marry Hazel. She’s a lovely girl and he’s working every hour God sends so they can have their perfect wedding,’ Jill said, smiling.
‘That’s lovely, isn’t it?’ Cora smiled back. ‘Mind you, Hazel’s got her hopes up for a big do. I hope they don’t bite off more than they can chew. She’s going to have June all dressed up too, from what they were saying yesterday. Though I have to say, for a three-year-old she’s beautifully behaved, so there’ll be no trouble. And she’s so little that she’ll hardly need a scrap of material. Not like Alison.’
‘Your youngest certainly is tall,’ agreed Jill. She could sense the impatience behind Cora’s remark but couldn’t really see what was wrong with the girl. She’d always found her perfectly polite. Of course she wasn’t as pretty as her sisters, especially Hazel, but then, not many young women were as fortunate to have looks like that.
‘Hazel was thinking of blue or green for the bridesmaid’s dresses. Will your Kathy like that?’
‘I’m sure she will,’ said Jill. ‘She’s lucky, being dark like Neville, she can wear most colours. That comes from my Lennie. It’s all right for some. I’m too pale to get away with strong oranges and yellows, for instance.’
‘I think we’re safe to say Hazel won’t choose orange,’ Cora replied. ‘With hair like hers she knows there are colours she has to steer well clear of. Linda can wear anything and look good in it. Whereas Alison looks terrible in everything.’
‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not true,’ said Jill, slightly shocked. It would help if the girl stood up straight, or tried to do something with her hair, but she sensed she’d only make things worse if she said that. She hastily changed the subject. ‘Neville was saying that Hazel’s only taking one day a week off from the café from now on, to save up more money for the big day. That’s going to be hard work for her.’
‘It is, but when she sets her heart on something there’s no changing her mind,’ Cora told her. ‘She’ll be on her feet six days a week and dead beat on Sundays. I suppose you’re only young once but where she’ll get the time and energy to organise everything she wants I do not know.’
Jill beamed in anticipation. ‘Well, there’s nothing I like better than a good wedding, and I’m not bad at organising if I say so myself,’ she said. ‘So it looks as if it’ll be down to you and me.’
Alison was a couple of minutes later leaving for work that morning and she was pleased to see that meant she was walking down Falcon Road just when Paul was winding open the hardware shop’s awning.
‘Nice day for it,’ he said, giving her a cheeky wink.
She blushed immediately. ‘Yes, looks as if we might get a bit of sun for once,’ she managed to reply.
‘Suppose that means you’ll be out walking with your boyfriend, then.’
She went even redder. ‘Oh no, I haven’t got …’ she began, but a call from inside the shop interrupted her.
‘Mr Lanning! We haven’t got all day.’
Paul raised his eyebrows. ‘See what I have to put up with,’ he said quietly. ‘Bet you feel sorry for me, don’t you?’ He turned his spaniel eyes on her and she felt her heart beat faster. ‘Best be off. Don’t work too hard.’ He disappeared inside into the gloom.
Alison took a moment before turning towards the butcher’s. What a start to the week that was. Should she take it as an omen? Why had he said that about her having a boyfriend – was he winding her up or might it mean that he liked her? She didn’t want to get her hopes up too much but surely he wouldn’t have said it otherwise?
Alison wouldn’t have been so happy if she’d known what was really going through Paul’s mind: that he didn’t even have to set the bait for her, she was his for the taking. It was all going to be too easy.
Fred looked up as Alison pushed open the door. He smiled at the sight of her – she was almost cheerful. ‘Good weekend?’ he asked. ‘Did your sister come like she said she would? Did she like my ham?’
‘She did, and everyone loved your ham.’ Alison hung her mac on the coat hooks by the plastic curtain, brightening at his interest. ‘We got measured for our bridesmaids’ dresses. Hazel doesn’t really want me to be one but she sort of had to agree. She’d look
