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
