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Where you off to, then?’

      ‘Might take a stroll around the park,’ Alice answered brightly.

      ‘Ain’t goin’ that far.’ Matilda was immediately contrary.

      ‘Yes, you are,’ Alice countered firmly, rolling her eyes in exasperation. ‘You’re out now and going to stay out for a while. Being cooped up in there all day is enough to send anyone bonkers. Anyhow, you know what the doctor’s told you: you got to keep moving about or the stiffness won’t ease off.’

      ‘Need anything up the shop?’ Margaret Lovat offered. ‘Bring it down for you later if you do, Til.’

      Matilda shook her head; she didn’t like relying on her neighbours although she knew their offers of help were genuine. But it was her daughters’ duty to make sure she was all right. ‘Alice just got me some stuff, thanks anyhow.’ It was an abrupt answer.

      ‘I’d come for a stroll ’n’ all, to keep you company, but I’m gonna have that fat git Podge on me ear’ole in a minute ’cos of the rent.’ Connie scowled over a shoulder.

      ‘Bleedin’ hell,’ Matilda muttered. ‘That don’t sound too nice, Con ...’

      All the women guffawed, even Connie. Beattie gave Tilly’s shoulder an appreciative pat and wiped her eyes. It was good to know that Tilly Keiver still had her sense of humour, despite what she’d been through.

      It was well known locally that Connie, currently working as a waitress, was not averse to going on the game when she needed cash. It was also known that she’d let Podge Peters into her room for payment in kind when she was really desperate. And she wasn’t alone in that. Even married women classed as respectable were not beyond opening up to Podge behind their husbands’ backs when things were really grim and they were determined to keep a roof over their kids’ heads. With two million people unemployed there was no realistic chance of earning the money any other way.

      The women proceeded up the road together at a slow pace so Tilly wouldn’t feel under pressure to keep up. Beattie drifted away with a wave after a few yards, having seen that her neighbour was impatiently pacing in the hope of resuming where they’d left off gossiping.

      ‘Oh ... ’ere ’e is again,’ Connie muttered as a fat, florid man emerged from a doorway and stared determinedly at her. She sighed. ‘Better go ’n’ see him or he’ll be round hammering on me door later.’

      ‘Good luck with that,’ Tilly said drolly as the petite blonde walked off.

      ‘You heard from your Lucy?’ Margaret Lovat blurted out as the three women ambled on.

      ‘Not for a week or two,’ Matilda answered. Her eldest daughter, Sophy, was married to Margaret’s eldest son. They’d started at Lockley Grange during the Great War and had been there ever since. Four years ago, when Lucy, Matilda’s youngest, turned fourteen, Sophy had got her a job in service there too. Then Danny had done the same for his brother, Timothy, so the Lovats and the Keivers were closely connected as well as being neighbours. When news came from ‘the kids’ in Essex, whether it came to Margaret or to Tilly, it was usually shared around.

      ‘You heard anything from them?’ Alice asked, glancing at Margaret.

      ‘Come on, out with it,’ Matilda duly prompted her neighbour, having noticed the woman looking uncomfortable. Nothing escaped Matilda Keiver; she might be a bit battered about the body but her mind was as sharp as ever. ‘If you’ve got a bit of gossip, let’s hear it, good or bad.’

      ‘Just ... Tim wrote and said he reckons your Lucy’s getting itchy feet. Said he’s gonna miss her if she goes. Reckon my Tim’s always been a bit sweet on your Lucy.’ Margaret frowned at Tilly. ‘Don’t you say I told you none of this. ‘S’pect Lucy’s gonna speak up in her own time if she’s planning on a move elsewhere.’ Margaret halted as they drew level with a gloomy tenement, similar to the one in which Matilda had rooms. The Lovat family were at least housed closer to what was known as the ‘better’ end of Campbell Road.

      ‘My Luce is too cute to give up a job as good as that,’ Tilly stated. ‘She got early promotion to lady’s maid a short while ago when her senior left.’

      ‘Yeah, course,’ Margaret replied, and quickly changed the subject. ‘Seen anything of Reg, Til?’

      ‘No, and don’t want to neither,’ Tilly growled and, grabbing Alice by the arm, she urged her on.

      It was only by leaning heavily on Alice that Tilly made it back up the stairs after their constitutional. By the time they were on the landing and unlocking her door Tilly was breathing heavily and frowning in pain.

      ‘You’ve got to come and live with me for a while, Mum,’ Alice gently insisted as she helped Tilly to sit down at the table. ‘While Reg is away you’ll never manage on your own. You’ve got to come and live with me and Josh in Wood Green—’

      ‘Ain’t going nowhere, so you can shut that up,’ Tilly tersely interrupted. ‘Told you lots o’ times, ain’t I, the Bunk’s fer me, cradle to grave?’

      ‘Well, you’ll be in your grave sooner than you think if you take another tumble down those stairs. And it’s on the cards, ’cos I can’t be here every minute of the day fetching you in stuff.’ Alice inspected the cups in the bowl to see if they’d been washed up and were ready to use. ‘Sooner or later you’re going to want something and try and go out and get it yourself. You know how impatient you can be.’

      ‘Got Beattie ’n’ Margaret if I’m desperate,’ Tilly returned harshly.

      ‘Yeah,’ Alice said drily, ‘But you never take up their offers of help, do you?’

      ‘Haven’t needed to. And I can yell out o’ the winder at people, if needs be. Don’t think I’m relyin’ on you ’n’ Beth to that extent.’ Matilda looked a bit sheepish because she knew that last statement was completely untrue. Bethany lived closer than Alice but had just had her second child, Joey, so wasn’t able to help out as often as Alice. ‘Can get about on me own if it comes to it ... just slowly,’ Matilda mumbled.

      ‘You’ve got to come to mine for a while,’ Alice insisted, setting the cups on the table in readiness for tea. ‘If you really want to come back to this fleapit when you’re better ...’ She shrugged as she glanced about with distaste at the room in which her mother chose to live. She and her sisters had been brought up in a couple of equally squalid rooms. That tenement house had been near the junction with Seven Sisters Road, at the rougher end of the street. Tilly had moved in the right direction and her home was now situated close to Paddington Street, which sliced Campbell Road into two distinct halves. As far as all the Keiver girls were concerned, Campbell Road, top or bottom, was a slum. Sophy, Alice, Beth and Lucy had promised themselves from an early age to escape the Bunk, as the road was nicknamed due to its proliferation of dosshouses. And they’d all made good on their vows.

      ‘Ain’t going nowhere,’ Tilly enunciated, planting her palms on the tabletop and leaning towards her daughter. ‘And no time fer tea. You’d best be off home right now if you don’t want Josh to be late getting hisself to work.’

      Alice buttoned her coat with a sigh at her mother’s curt dismissal. It was better to leave her to stew in her own juice than end up bickering with her.

      ‘D’you reckon Lucy might be getting itchy feet?’ During their stroll Alice had avoided discussing the subject. She’d listened to Matilda puffing and panting with the effort of walking along so hadn’t wanted to put any additional pressure on her. Alice had mulled things over in her mind as she’d kicked through autumn leaves in Finsbury Park. And she knew that, quiet as her mother had been beside her, she was also brooding on what Margaret Lovat had told them about Lucy.

      ‘She’d best not have got herself sacked,’ Matilda replied grumpily. ‘Or she’ll have me to answer to.’

      ‘Lucy wouldn’t get herself sacked, Mum,’ Alice said with a rueful smile. She liked to

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