Uncle Ted’s place next time. Then he can let me know.’
He nodded. ‘I’m sorry if I worried you.’
‘You’re home now,’ she said with relief and she turned to go.
‘Mum,’ he began, ‘did Dad tell you?’
She stopped at the door and gave a nod. ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning. Now get some sleep. Night, love.’
‘Goodnight, Mum.’
He sank back into the pillow and had just closed his eyes when urgent whispers made him look down the bed. His brother and sister’s heads were raised again.
‘Where you been?’ asked Harry.
‘Everywhere, I think,’ whispered Ralph. ‘It was a real pea-souper.’
‘Dad burnt one of your books,’ said Elsie.
‘What!’
‘Mum stopped him burning the rest,’ said Harry.
‘And Dad hit her,’ added Elsie.
‘He never,’ said Harry. ‘It was an accident.’
‘Anyway,’ said Elsie excitedly, ‘you missed a row.’
‘And Dick Barton.’
‘But we remembered it for you. You know Snowy White had found where Dick Barton was holed up by the arch-evil . . .’
‘Not now,’ pleaded Ralph.
‘But I might have forgotten it by the morning.’
‘It is the morning. Now let me sleep. And Elsie?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Try not to kick. There are places on my anatomy which don’t take to being kicked.’
Sounds of smothered giggling came from the other side. Ralph groaned. ‘You’re causing a draught,’ he complained. ‘Can’t you laugh without moving?’
There was silence for a moment then a fresh outburst of laughter from the other side.
‘I give up,’ yawned Ralph. And fell asleep.
‘Which one did he burn?’ asked Ralph.
‘Dunno, dear. You’ll have to check them through.’
‘Where are they?’
She glanced at Harry and Elsie who were poring over a comic. Elsie was holding her broken spectacles to the bridge of her nose and reading the captions to Harry. But he knew Elsie could eavesdrop and talk at the same time. ‘I won’t tell,’ she said in midstream.
Ralph and his mother smiled quickly at one another.
‘I’ve hidden them in a pile of washing in the scullery till he cools down.’
‘Thanks.’
‘What’s in the scullery?’ said Harry suddenly alert.
‘Do you want to know what happens next?’ interrupted Elsie.
‘Yeah.’
His mother handed Ralph a plate of fried bread and dripping and a mug of tea. ‘What are you going to do, then?’ she asked. ‘You can’t go back to school, love. He won’t hear of it.’
‘I don’t want to now. I’ll find a job. I won’t scrounge off you, don’t worry.’
‘It’s not that.’
‘You’ve done enough for me.’
She reddened. He loved it when she blushed. She looked pretty again.
‘It was the rector,’ she began embarrassed, ‘he persuaded me.’
‘I couldn’t have done it without you, Mum.’
‘Oh, go on. You worked hard for it. Now eat that up before it goes cold. I’ve got things to do.’ And she disappeared into the scullery.
A newspaper was lying at the end of the table. He reached over for it and flipped it open at the job advertisements.
‘No time like the present,’ he said and he crunched his way through the fried bread. He was starving and the bread only whetted his appetite. He gulped down the hot tea.
‘Mum,’ he said casually, ‘there might be a chance of a job just for tonight.’
She appeared in the doorway. ‘Oh yeah? What kind of job?’
‘Well, um,’ he said slowly, ‘every Saturday night at the Palace Theatre, they have to take down the set.’
‘What’s a set?’ asked Elsie.
‘Scenery, nosy parker.’
‘Just wanted to know,’ she said returning to the comic. ‘Watch out, yer yellow-livered hombre!’
‘Sometimes they need extra hands,’ he continued hesitantly. ‘I saw a man backstage there and he suggested I pop round after the show. He’s going to put in a good word for me.’
‘I see. But won’t it be late?’
‘Later than late, Mum. All night.’
She came into the kitchen and sat down beside him. ‘I don’t know, love. I don’t like to think of you out all night. And your dad . . . It was bad enough last night.’
‘But I wouldn’t be out. I’d be cycling back in daylight. I’d be even safer than coming back from the theatre on a Friday.’
‘Talking of which,’ she said biting her lip. ‘I don’t know if your father will let you go any longer. He’s dead ashamed of you doing it.’
‘He’s ashamed of me breathing,’ commented Ralph. ‘He only has to see me and I make his blood boil. I only have to open my mouth and the steam starts coming out of his ears.’
Elsie began to giggle. He gazed affectionately at her. She was such an appreciative audience. She peered owlishly at him, her glasses juddering on her nose. Though eleven, she was so small and skinny she could pass for being nine. She grinned mischievously at him.
‘How are you going to pay for a ticket?’ asked his mother.
Ralph sighed. ‘I don’t know. And I must go. It’s the one thing that keeps me from going insane.’
‘What does insane mean?’ said Harry suddenly interested.
‘Barmy,’ said Elsie.
‘Mum, what about tonight?’
‘He’ll
