worry about me. Tommy will be over later to see how we got on.’
‘You got a good man there.’ Lily approved of Tommy. When he’d first come on the scene she hadn’t been sure about him as he’d been a bit of a tearaway in his youth, but he’d turned into a real tower of strength for Mavis just when she needed one. ‘Be giving him a tour of your new bedroom, will you?’
‘Mum!’ Mavis quickly checked that the children were all out of earshot. ‘Don’t go saying that. It’s all very well for you, but I’m not rushing into anything. Tommy knows that. So don’t you go putting ideas into his head.’
‘You’ve been seeing him for ages, and if you ask me the man’s a saint to wait for so long.’
‘Mum!’ Mavis warned again.
Lily grinned and then winked at her husband. ‘Come on then, Pete. I might let you show me a good time, an’ all.’
Pete caught her round the waist, grinning from ear to ear. He might not be much of a looker, with his boxer’s face and skin still scarred from teenage acne, but he loved her mum, thought Mavis. He’d done them proud all right and she was grateful to him for that. ‘You go on, I’ll make sure Bobby goes to bed on time.’
‘And we’ll be back before its James’s bedtime so you won’t have to worry about leaving any of them on their own in a different part of the house.’ Lily grabbed her handbag. ‘See you later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ She allowed Pete to open the newly painted door for her and they were gone.
Well that didn’t rule much out, Mavis thought ruefully. How different her mother was to her. Lily had begun her affair with Pete not long after Mavis’s father had gone missing, which Mavis, a lonely teenager at the time, had found unbearably hard and impossible to accept. By the time her father finally reappeared, close to death after years of gambling and drinking had ruined him, Lily and Pete had been living together. They’d only married after Mavis’s dad had died and when Lily was heavily pregnant with Bobby. It had scandalised the neighbours when they eventually found out, but then they had moved away to Peckham and a fresh start.
Mavis had to open a few cupboard doors to find the teapot. She remembered when she was a girl that her mother would use the same tea leaves several times as they couldn’t afford fresh. Mavis grimaced, remembering how dreadfully clumsy she had been which had tried her mother’s patience. She’d also been considered backward because she couldn’t learn to read and write.
As she made the tea, Mavis found herself thinking about Rhona Foster and knew she would miss having her vivacious friend and neighbour popping in from next door now that they had moved away from Harmond Street. Rhona wouldn’t have thought twice about showing Tommy her bedroom, Mavis thought. Though they had become friends, they were as different as chalk and cheese.
Everything had changed for Mavis when she’d married Alec, James and Grace’s father. After leaving school with no qualifications she’d helped his snobbish mother run her house. It was Alec’s mother who realised that her inability to read and clumsiness wasn’t caused by lack of intelligence. It was due to word blindness, and though she had never learned to read, she had managed to overcome her clumsiness. No, she wasn’t backward, Mavis thought ruefully, but she had been very naïve and what she hadn’t realised was that she was being groomed by Alec’s mother to be his perfect submissive wife. Because she’d been desperate to get away from Lily and Pete, she’d fallen for it – and ended up in a terrible abusive relationship.
When the domineering old woman had died, Mavis had found the courage to leave Alec. He’d sold the house that he’d inherited from his mother two years ago, hadn’t given Mavis her share of the money, and moved out. He’d disappeared without a trace, but nobody was sorry to see the back of him. Except that, as she had no way of making contact with him, she couldn’t get a divorce.
‘I’m thirsty. Can I have a drink please, Mummy?’
‘Of course you can,’ Mavis said, smiling fondly at her son. ‘Orange juice?’
James nodded and as she mixed the juice with water, Mavis’s mind was still full of memories. Grace could hardly remember her real father and James’s memories of him were fading day by day. That was a good thing as Alec had beaten James badly, although not as often as he’d beaten her. Mavis shuddered as she recalled the pain of the frequent bruises she’d had to keep hidden for so long.
‘I want some juice too,’ another voice demanded.
‘Grace, you won’t get anything unless you ask for it properly,’ Mavis said sternly.
Grace looked sullen for a moment, but then said, ‘Please can I have some orange juice.’
‘That’s better,’ Mavis said approvingly and when Bobby appeared she made him a drink too.
Once finished they all ran off again, while Mavis poured herself a cup of tea and then stood sipping it whilst watching the children through the kitchen window. James was now running around without a care in the world. He was still a thoughtful little boy, often seeming older than his eight years, and he wasn’t as withdrawn and fearful as he’d once been. As for Grace, even when a toddler she’d always said exactly what she thought – nobody had ever had to teach her how to put her foot down. She was more like her Granny Lily than anyone else and Lily was very fond of her granddaughter.
Mavis smiled ruefully again. As a girl she had found school hard, which had led to her being friendless and awkward. Grace on the other hand was fearless. She was a force to be reckoned with, and her teachers didn’t know whether to praise her for her willingness to speak up in class or to punish her for never shutting up. Yet she was generous and kind-hearted – there she was now, making sure Bobby was all right after he’d taken a tumble. Mavis started, wondering if she should rush out, but Bobby didn’t cry and she could see he’d only grazed his knee. He was made of tough stuff, the spitting image of Pete right down to the squashed nose. He’d known nothing but love all his short life and responded by loving everyone right back.
Mavis decided she’d finish her tea and then call them in as the light was fading and it would be getting cold, even if they were running about like champion athletes, exploring every nook and cranny of the new garden. She’d give them something to eat and a Corona fizzy drink for a treat to mark their first day in their new home. Then Tommy would be here.
Tommy. Her heart flipped over. Despite what Lily said, Mavis wouldn’t be giving him a tour of her bedroom in the upstairs flat, no matter how much she might want to. It wasn’t so much that Mavis craved respectability; she’d done that once and a fat lot of good it had done her. It was fear that held her back, along with the fact that she doubted she could ever completely trust a man again, even Tommy. He appeared perfect, kind, and caring, but Alec had seemed kind too. All that changed when she married him and she had been through too much to risk making the same mistake again.
‘I’m not bloody having it!’ Rhona Foster, screamed in frustration as they neared the end of their shift. ‘How the hell do they expect us to do the same work but faster? Whose bright idea was that? They can stuff it, I’m not going to do it.’
‘Yes you are and you know it.’ Jean Barker, at twenty-six – seven years older than her hot-tempered colleague – had seen and heard it all before. Anyone could tell from a glance at her that she took no nonsense, from her sensible shoes to her tidy brown hair, now hidden under the regulation scarf they were all meant to wear on shift, though the younger ones often ignored the rule. ‘It won’t make any difference what we say. You’ve been at this factory for three years now, Rhona, and can you remember
