Читать книгу: «A Woman’s Fortune»

CHAPTER ONE
Shenty Street, Bolton, Lancashire

She’d seen him around here only a couple of times before, a scruffy-looking man with his cap pulled low and his collar raised high. He had a furtive air, not looking directly at anyone in the street and skulking in the shadows instead of greeting folk with a cheery ‘All right?’ in the usual way. Round here, everyone knew everyone else – and their business – so Evie was certain this man was a stranger. And, from his manner, he was up to no good.

The question was, what did he want with her dad?

She’d now come into the kitchen to make sure her brothers, Peter and Robert, were getting on with their homework, leaving her mum and Grandma Sue folding the dried clothes ready to be ironed. Now, standing just inside, the back door partly closed to conceal her, Evie watched her father and the stranger. The two men faced each other in the shadowy alleyway between the Carters’ house and the next row of terraces. Evie could plainly see both men in profile, her father taller, younger and more handsome than the weaselly-looking fella. The stranger was saying something in a voice too low for her to hear and then Dad, who had been smiling, no doubt laying on the charm, muttered something in return and began to look less happy. The next moment the man, his expression aggressive, was wagging a finger in Dad’s face. Evie was surprised to see her father’s shoulders slump and he no longer met the other man’s eye. She was half ashamed to be snooping and half afraid that here was bad news on the way and she ought to see if she could do something about it before her mum heard. This wouldn’t be the first time Dad had got in a bit of a tight corner, and Mum had lost a bit of her sparkle of late.

Since Evie had left school to help her mother and Grandmother Sue with the washing business she was more aware of what everyone in the family was up to. It wasn’t always bad news with Dad, but there had been some weeks when money was especially tight after he’d had a long evening at the pub, celebrating or commiserating some event with ‘the lads’, especially if the bookie’s runner had been there collecting the stake on some nag that Dad had been told was ‘a certainty’ to win and make his fortune, and which had eventually cantered in well down the field.

Michael Carter was never down for long and, with his irrepressible high spirits, would shrug off his setbacks and carry on regardless, sweeping aside any difficulties as if they weren’t happening. But Mum was sometimes impatient with him these days, and the older she got the more Evie could see Mum’s point of view. Somehow Dad’s jokes weren’t as funny as they used to be, and Evie understood why her mother was beginning to look worn down and her smile had grown, like herself, thin. You couldn’t live on laughs, after all.

What was that word Mary had used when Evie had once confided how annoying Dad’s charm could be when you recognised how he worked it on you? Exasperating. Mary Sullivan, Evie’s best friend, was clever. She always had her head in a book and knew a whole dictionary of good words. She even had a dictionary, so Evie reckoned ‘exasperating’ was probably exactly the right word for her father.

Evie glanced to where her brothers were labouring over their schoolwork at the kitchen table. Their heads were down in concentration so she risked opening the door a fraction wider and craned her neck through the gap. The two men were talking intently but their voices remained low. Then the stranger, with another jab of his pointed finger, turned and disappeared from view. Evie waited a minute, then made a show of opening the back door wide and treading heavily up the alleyway to greet her father where he had moved to stand in the open in front of the house. The summer’s evening sun was low between the rows of back-to-back houses and for a moment a golden beam shone through the sooty air directly onto his face, showing his furrowed brow and his tired eyes with a fine trace of lines she had never noticed before. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, facing into the sun with his eyes closed, almost as if he were praying. Suddenly Evie saw that her handsome dad looked older than his years.

Michael Carter looked up at his daughter’s approach and turned to her, his smile instantly back in place.

‘You all right, Evie?’

‘Just taking a rest before I tackle a pile of ironing. Grandma’s got a bit of mending to do so I said I’d iron. She’s really feeling the heat today.’

‘Well, your gran’s got her own insulation,’ he said, winking. ‘It’s certainly hot work for a July evening.’

‘It is that. But Gran will be taking the good stuff back early tomorrow, so we need to get on.’

‘Oh, leave it, lass. Don’t be beating yourself up. It’ll wait for you.’

‘That’s what I’m afraid of, Dad. There’ll be more tomorrow and I’ll not have Mum or Gran doing my share. Gran’s complaining about her feet, and I don’t blame her. She’s been on them since seven this morning.’

‘She’s a tough old bird, and a good ’un. Don’t tell her I said so, mind.’

Evie and her father exchanged smiles.

Michael called across to Marie Sullivan, who lived in the house opposite and was sweeping dust off her doorstep. ‘All right, Marie? Tell Brendan I’ll see him for a drink later.’

‘I’ll tell him.’

He waved to old Mrs Marsh, who lived next door to the Sullivans, and who was out rubbing Brasso onto her doorknocker. Mrs Marsh was known to be house-proud. ‘Evening, Dora. That’s looking good. I’ll find you a job at ours, if you like.’

‘Give over with your cheek, Michael Carter,’ she grinned.

Evie laughed along with her father. This street was home. She knew no other, and nor did she want to. But the question remained, who was that man with the creeping manner who had caused her father’s smile to slip? She took a breath and decided to plunge in.

‘Dad … who was that man?’

‘What man?’

‘Here, a few minutes ago. In the ginnel.’

‘Here, you say?’

‘Ah, come on, Dad. Talking to you. Just now.’

‘Oh, that man …’

‘Yes, that man. I don’t think he lives round here. Is he a friend of yours?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend, love …’

‘What then?’

‘What?’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Dad, do you have to be so exasperating? Who is he and what does he want, lurking round here? Is everything all right? Only you didn’t look too pleased and it set me wondering.’

Michael turned the full beam of his smile on Evie, but she noticed that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘It’s a bit of business, that’s all, love. Nothing for you to worry about.’

Evie fixed him with a hard stare. ‘If you’re sure, Dad,’ she said doubtfully.

‘As I say, sweetheart, nothing to bother yourself over. Or your mum.’ He looked at her meaningfully until she nodded. ‘Now why don’t you go and look in the pantry where I think you’ll mebbe find a bottle or two of cold tea cooling in a bucket on the slab. That’ll help that ironing along, d’you reckon?’

Evie knew there was no point pursuing the matter of the stranger so she shrugged off her anxiety as Michael took her arm with exaggerated gallantry.

‘C’mon, let’s see if the boys have abandoned their homework yet. Your cold tea and ironing await, your ladyship,’ he grinned.

‘Too kind, your lordship,’ Evie beamed, and, their noses in the air in a pantomime of the gentry, they spurned the alleyway and the back door, and let themselves in through the front, laughing.

‘I don’t know what you two have got to be so cheerful about,’ Grandma Sue said, easing a swollen foot out of a worn and misshapen slipper. ‘My ankles are plumped up like cushions in this weather. It’s that airless I can hardly catch my breath.’ She slumped down on one of the spindle-back kitchen chairs and began to massage her foot.

‘Here you are, Gran, a cup of cold tea,’ said Evie, emerging from the pantry and putting Gran’s precious bone-china cup and saucer down on the kitchen table beside her. Sue had been given the china as a present when she left her job as a lady’s maid to get married. No one else in the family would even think of borrowing it, knowing that the crockery was doubly precious to Sue because it had not only survived the war, it had outlasted Granddad Albert, too.

‘Here you are, Mum … boys.’ Evie placed mugs of the tea, which was no longer particularly cold, in front of her mother, Jeanie, and her younger brothers. Peter and Robert were frowning over their school homework, applying themselves to it with much effort and ill grace.

‘Thanks, Sis,’ Peter smiled on her. ‘I’ll just get this down me and then I’m off out to play football with Paddy.’

‘Football, in this heat?’ Sue shook her head and smiled. ‘You’re a tough one, an’ no mistake.’

‘Lazy one, more like,’ said Jeanie, taking off her pinny. ‘What have I said about not going out to play until you’ve done your homework?’ She sat easing her back, then removed the turban she wore when she was working to try to prevent the steam from the copper frizzing her hair. As her mother raised her arms and pushed up her flattened curls, Evie noticed how sore her hands were. Mum liked to look nice but it was difficult in this heat, with all the steam and hard work. In winter it was even worse, though.

‘It’s too hot to do schoolwork. It’s the play next week and no one’s bothered about doing sums when there’s the play to rehearse.’

‘But you’re not even in the play, are you, Pete? Isn’t it just the little ’uns that are doing the acting?’

‘I’m in the choir and I’m playing the whistle,’ said Peter. ‘You can’t have a play without music.’

‘That’s right,’ Robert had his say as always. ‘Pete’s got a solo.’

‘Two solos,’ Peter corrected. ‘Anyway, it’s only one more year before I’m fourteen and then I can leave school. I can read and write already – what more do I need when I’m going to be a musician?’

‘A musician, is it now?’ smiled Sue. ‘I don’t know where you get such fancy ideas.’

‘Fifteen,’ Michael corrected, coming out of the pantry with a second bottle of cold tea. ‘You can’t leave until you’re fifteen.’

‘But that’s not fair. Evie left at fourteen. Why can’t I?’

‘Evie left to help Mum and Grandma Sue with the washing,’ Michael reminded his elder son, not for the first time. ‘The authorities turn a blind eye if you’ve got a family business to go into, especially when it’s the best in Bolton.’ He beamed at Jeanie and she rolled her eyes at his nonsense.

‘And if I don’t get on with that last pile of ironing I might as well have stayed at school,’ Evie said, getting up and moving to the ironing board, beside which was a pile of pretty but rather worn blouses.

‘I could always go and help you at the brewery until the music takes off, Dad,’ Peter went on, adding innocently, ‘I’m sure we need the money.’

‘And you wouldn’t be spending it in the pub like Dad does either,’ Robert said, unwisely. ‘Or betting on horses.’

Typical, thought Evie, in the brief silence that followed. When would Robert ever learn to keep quiet?

Jeanie, Sue and Michael all spoke at once.

‘Shut up, Bob, and get on with your homework. I won’t have you cheeking your father,’ said Jeanie.

‘I think you’re asking for a clip round the ear, my lad,’ said Sue.

‘Ah, come on, son. A man’s got a right to have some fun,’ said Michael.

Robert lowered his head and began snivelling over his exercise book while Peter got up very quietly, collected his books into a neat pile and sidled over to the door.

‘I’ll see you later,’ he muttered and left, taking his mug of tea with him.

Sue eased herself off the chair and made for the living room, where the light was better and where she kept her workbasket. ‘I’ll just finish that cuff on Mrs Russell’s blouse and you can add it to the pile. I’m that grateful for your help this evening.’

‘Oh, and I’ve found one with a missing button. Do you have a match for this?’ Evie followed her grandmother through with a spotlessly white cotton blouse and showed her where the repair was needed.

Sue turned to her button box and Evie went back to the ironing, mussing up Robert’s fair hair supportively as she passed. Robert was still sniffing over his schoolbooks, writing slowly with a blunt pencil. The distant sound of Peter’s voice drifted up the alleyway from the street, Paddy Sullivan answering, and then the dull thud of a football bouncing.

‘Right,’ said Michael, ‘I’ll be off out. See you later, love.’ He planted a kiss on the top of Jeanie’s head and was gone. Jeanie didn’t need any explanation.

She got up and took her tea into the living room to sit with her mother.

‘Let’s hope he comes back sober,’ Sue muttered under her breath.

‘He’s usually better on a weekday,’ Jeanie said loyally, ‘and it’s Thursday as well, so I reckon there isn’t much left to spend anyway.’

They each lapsed into silence with a sigh.

Evie shared the attic bedroom with her grandma. It was hot as hell that night, as if all the heat from the street and the scullery and the kitchen had wafted up into the room and lingered there still. It was dark outside, although the moon was bright in the clear sky. Sue was lying on her back on top of her bed, her head propped up high on a pillow and with the bedclothes folded neatly on the floor at its foot. She was snoring loudly. Evie thought she looked like an island – like a vast landmass such as she’d seen in the school atlas – and Sue’s swollen feet, which Evie could just see in the dark, looked enormous, being both long and very wide. Poor Gran, thought Evie, it must be a trial carrying all that weight on your bones in this weather.

It was Sue’s snoring that had woken Evie and now she was wide awake and too hot to get back to sleep. The bed seemed to be gaining heat as she lay there and the rucked-up sheet was creased and scratchy. Lying awake and uncomfortable, Evie thought of the weaselly stranger she had seen earlier, how Dad had swerved her questions and obviously didn’t want her to know anything about the man. He’d more or less admitted it was a secret from Mum, too, and therefore from Grandma.

I bet it’s about money, Evie thought.

Her dad had a job at the brewery loading drays and doing general maintenance. She had long ago realised that it wasn’t very well paid. Despite Jeanie’s scrimping and all the doing without, though, Dad didn’t seem to care. He just carried on going for a drink or three, and enjoying what he called ‘a little flutter’ on the dogs or the horses. ‘You have to place the bet to have the dream of winning,’ he had explained to Evie. ‘A few pounds is the price of the dream.’ Sometimes he did win. Mostly he didn’t.

The laundry helped to support them. For someone so old – she was sixty-three and didn’t care who knew it – Grandma Sue was full of go, always trying to think of ways to improve the little business. She offered mending and alterations, and had found new customers away from the immediate neighbourhood – people with a bit more to spend on the extra service.

Enterprise, Mary Sullivan had called it. ‘Everyone admires your gran,’ Mary had said. ‘She doesn’t sit around being old, she gets on with it.’ Evie had to agree that Grandma Sue was amazing.

Evie looked at her now, lying on her back, snoring like billy-o, and grinned.

Getting up silently, Evie went to stand in front of the open sash window, desperate for a breath of cool fresh air. The rooftops of the houses opposite were visible but, from where she stood, there was no one in sight in the street. She lingered, breathing deeply of the hot, sooty air, leaning out and turning her head to try to catch any breeze.

Then she heard the echoing sound of approaching uneven footsteps and recognised her father coming down the street, weaving slightly, not hurrying at all, although it must be very late as he was the only person in sight. But – no, there was another man. Evie hadn’t heard him, but suddenly the man was right there, outside the house. She leaned out further to see who had waylaid her father; it was the man she’d seen earlier. In the quiet of the night their voices drifted up to her, and her heart sank. Something was not right.

‘I told Mr Hopkins what you said and he isn’t prepared to wait that long,’ growled the stranger. ‘He wants his money now.’

‘And I told you I don’t have it,’ Michael said. ‘I’ll pay him what I owe, I promise, but I need more time.’

‘Mr Hopkins says you’ve had long enough. He’ll be charging the usual rates from now.’

‘Please, I can get it all by next month. I just need a bit longer to get sorted, that’s all.’

‘I’ll be sorting you out if Mr Hopkins doesn’t see his money soon,’ snarled the man, leaning in close. Evie felt hot all over, the beginnings of panic flipping her stomach.

‘Next week, then,’ she heard her father pleading. ‘I’ll get it by the end of next week. C’mon now, I can’t say fairer than that.’ He tried for a friendly tone, a man-to-man kind of banter, but Mr Hopkins’ man was not to be charmed from his purpose.

‘Next week it is, then,’ he said, ‘but there’ll be interest, too, don’t forget. You should have paid up straight away, Carter. It’s going to cost you more now. I’ll be back to collect what you owe. All of it, and the interest. And if you don’t pay – and I mean every pound of the debt – I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. You won’t be able to talk your way out of it with Mr Hopkins. Let this be fair warning to you.’ It was a dark warning.

The stranger seemed to melt away in the darkness, and Evie slowly sank down to the floor beside the window. She had a sense of trouble. Oh dear God, every pound. Dad owed Mr Hopkins pounds! And he had only until the end of next week to pay. And tomorrow was Friday already. How on earth had Dad got himself into that kind of mess? It couldn’t be a bad bet on the horses. That might have wiped out his wages but wouldn’t have led to such a debt, surely. Maybe this Mr Hopkins was a moneylender. Oh good grief, this was serious …

She sat numbly thinking about pounds of debt for a while, then got up stiffly and crept back to bed. Sue’s snoring had subsided, thank heaven, and she was blissfully asleep. Evie lay down and tried to work through the situation in her head. Who else knew? No one, she guessed.

Evie wished that she didn’t know, and her father’s secret was so terrible that she couldn’t unburden herself by sharing it with anyone, especially when her mum and grandma were so tired after working all hours doing laundry. She didn’t want to worry them until she knew what was going on and how bad things were. First she’d have to confront Dad and see what he had to say, though she didn’t hold out much hope of getting a straight answer. She’d already tried asking about the stranger and he’d pretended there wasn’t anything wrong. No doubt he’d try to fob her off with some tale when she questioned him about what she’d overheard …

It didn’t occur to her to leave the matter to her father to deal with alone. Now the truth was out she couldn’t sweep it under the rug and forget what she knew. That was the kind of thing he did, and look where it had got him. He needed to face facts and do something about the trouble he was in. That awful man had sounded dangerous.

She tried to think of people who might be able to help. The Sullivans were good friends. Perhaps she should go to Mary and Geraldine’s father, Brendan. Dad might listen to Brendan. But it wasn’t the Sullivans’ problem and it would be unfair to burden them. Besides, money was probably tight there, too, as there were so many of them.

What about Billy? He was such a good man, so reliable, and she knew he’d do anything for her. But he hadn’t got any money, she was sure. He was a postman but he hadn’t been all that long in the job. He’d got his mother to support, too, as his dad had been killed in the war. And anyway, why should Billy give over whatever savings he might have to help her dad? But he was so wise, maybe he’d know of a way out of this mess …

Who did she know who could lend Dad the money he owed to this Mr Hopkins? Evie racked her brains but could think of no one. The most well-to-do person she knew was Mrs Russell, whose blouses she had been ironing that evening. But then she remembered the mended cuff Gran had worked on, the missing button and how worn the once-fine fabric now was with repeated washing. Mrs Russell was a step up from Shenty Street, but she was widowed and lived on what she had, which was not much. And anyway, Grandma would die of shame if the Carters took their problems to Mrs Russell. So would Evie herself, for that matter.

The burden of her secret and the anger she felt towards her father kept Evie awake until the early hours, when she eventually fell into a restless sleep. It was with heavy eyes and a heavier heart that she faced the next morning.

‘You’re looking peaky, love,’ Jeanie remarked to Evie as they finished their breakfast of bread and scrape. ‘I’ve got the copper heating and if you help me fill the dolly tub first, you can go with your gran to Mrs Russell’s, if you like? Your dad’s already gone and Pete can see to Bob so there’ll be no one under my feet.’

Evie filled the dolly tub with hot water, then put in some washing soda, followed by some small items from the latest bundle. Then the sheets went in the copper with more washing soda and Evie pushed them underwater with some long wooden tongs.

‘Help me load up, then.’ Michael had made the trolley for them out of some orange boxes set on a frame with two axles, some pram wheels and a steering column handle. The box part was lined with an offcut of old sheeting to prevent splinters snagging the clothes. Evie laid the ironed and neatly folded bed linen inside, then placed the blouses carefully on top and covered them with a piece of fabric to keep off the dust. This had been Sue’s idea, to keep the clothes clean and dry, and she’d fashioned the mac to fit snugly over the boxes like a pram cover.

Evie nearly blurted out her worries about her dad to Sue before they were two streets from home, but then she remembered her resolve of the previous night: not to say anything until she simply had to. There might yet be a way to deal with the mess Dad was in without spreading the worry around.

Mrs Russell lived not far from Queen’s Park, and Sue and Evie cut through the back alleys, chatting about their washing schedule. But it didn’t stop Evie worrying that the end of next week was the deadline for her father to pay back Mr Hopkins. She fell silent while Sue chatted on, unaware of her granddaughter’s preoccupation.

‘… We’ll go to the boys’ play, I reckon,’ Sue was saying. ‘I think we need to get tickets. I hope there’s no charge for them. I’ll ask Peter. It’s no use asking Bob, bless him.’

Before long, they arrived at Mrs Russell’s, a tall old-fashioned red-brick house that had been divided into two. Sue opened the gate and Evie wheeled the pram up along the tiled path, then round to the back door. A rose bush was in full bloom in the small front garden and she noticed its delicate scent was like the perfume Mrs Russell wore.

Mrs Russell’s ‘girl’, Annie, opened the door, beaming at Sue and Evie.

‘Come in and I’ll go and tell the missus that you’re here.’

Sue and Evie unloaded the trolley, passing the items between them to lie neatly on a chair in Mrs Russell’s large kitchen.

Annie showed them to the sitting room, then went to make a pot of tea. Mrs Russell’s sitting room was like the lady herself, all pink and white and pretty.

‘Good morning, Mrs Goodwin. And, Evie, my dear, how lovely to see you. Please, sit down. Annie will bring us some tea,’ Mrs Russell greeted them.

Evie liked Mrs Russell, who was always friendly and fair and didn’t treat Grandma Sue as if she wasn’t fit to set foot in her house, as a couple of the women who sent them their washing did.

‘How did you get on with that cuff that needed your expert attention?’ asked Mrs Russell.

‘I’ll show you. Evie, love, will you fetch that blouse so Mrs Russell can see?’

Evie did as she was asked, admiring the soft colours of the wallpaper, so different to their home on Shenty Street with its constant smell of washing soda and damp sheets draped over the maidens. How quiet this house was, too. Kind of restful … Evie glanced into another room opening off the corridor before she reached the kitchen. There was a large comfy-looking sofa, and a small pile of books that looked as if they’d been read a lot. A piano, far bigger than the one at the school, stood at the window end.

Mum would love to sit there and sing a few songs around that piano, Evie thought. So would I …

She knocked on the kitchen door and retrieved the blouse, then Annie followed her back with a tray of tea and some plain biscuits.

Mrs Russell admired the mend, which pleased Sue, although Evie knew that it had been an easy job for her, and then the two women drank their tea and chatted while Evie sipped hers and gazed round the room, daydreaming about living in such a house. On a side table in a smart frame there was a photograph of a man in air force uniform. Evie guessed it was Mr Russell.

‘Well, must be getting on,’ said Sue as soon as she’d finished her tea.

Mrs Russell counted the payment for the washing into her hands and Sue put the coins in her jacket pocket and thanked her for the tea.

‘Annie will bring round the next wash on Wednesday morning as usual, Mrs Goodwin,’ Mrs Russell assured her.

‘Thank you, Mrs Russell. I’ll see you next week,’ answered Sue with a smile.

Then Annie showed Sue and Evie to the back door where they’d left the trolley.

‘She’s so nice,’ said Evie as she wheeled the empty trolley back along the footpath.

‘And a good woman. Doesn’t think that just ’cos she’s seen a bit of money she’s any better than the rest of us. But poor woman lost her husband in the war, like Granddad Albert. She’s got no children either and I think she might be a bit lonely. It’s family that’s important, not how smart your house is. Always remember that.’

‘Yes, Gran,’ said Evie, though she thought it would be nice to have some pretty things at home as well as her family.

The thought of family started her worrying about Michael and Mr Hopkins’ man again. The coins Mrs Russell had paid Sue for the washing and mending would go nowhere towards a debt of pounds.

By the time Evie and Sue had wheeled the trolley as far as the top end of Shenty Street, they were both hot and tired.

‘Look, there’s Billy,’ said Sue, seeing the postman pushing some mail through the last letterbox in the road.

‘Hello, Mrs Goodwin. Hello, Evie. That’s lucky, seeing you now. I’ve just finished my round for the day. Been up since cockcrow.’

‘So have we,’ Evie smiled. ‘Best bit of the day, first thing.’

‘I’ll take the trolley home and you can join us in a minute, Evie,’ suggested Sue, fully aware that her granddaughter and Billy had a special fondness for each other.

Evie had never been so glad to have a few moments alone with Billy. All the way home the worry about her father’s debt had festered and she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. Billy was so wise and, not being family, he might be able to see straight what needed to be done.

Evie perched on the low wall at the side of the end house and Billy sat next to her, putting his empty bag down at his feet.

‘What’s up, Evie? You look like something’s fretting you.’

‘Oh, Billy,’ her brown eyes filled with tears, ‘it’s a family thing really but I don’t want to worry Mum and Grandma unless I have to. Trouble is, it’s too big. I don’t think I can deal with it on my own.’

‘Is it your dad?’ Billy knew Michael Carter had a reputation for being feckless but then a lot of men round here put their beer and their bets before their families. ‘What’s he done that’s so bad you can’t even tell your mum and grandma?’ He’d heard Michael had been placing some heavier bets lately, more than just the odd shilling. He hoped it hadn’t got out of hand.

Evie told Billy about the creepy man sent by Mr Hopkins and what she’d heard in the night.

‘Oh, Evie, Hopkins is bad news,’ said Billy, lowering his voice. ‘He runs a card game. I’ve heard all sorts about it: that it’s held upstairs at the King’s Head. It sounds as if your dad’s been playing cards there and has run up this debt.’

‘Cards? Are you sure? Not horses or dogs? What do you think’s going to happen, Billy?’

Billy thought better of telling Evie everything he’d heard about Mr Hopkins. ‘Let me think … Hopkins will want to get the money off your dad if he can. Maybe your dad can agree to pay it back a bit at a time.’

‘But it’s pounds already. That might mean it’s never paid off!’ Evie was indignant.

‘I don’t see that he’s any choice if he can’t pay it all. He has to take responsibility, love.’

‘But I’m afraid if I tell Dad all this he’ll take no notice of me. He never likes to face up to problems and I’m sure he’d rather carry on as usual at the pub and betting on the races than pay what he owes Mr Hopkins. And I don’t want Mum and Grandma to be scrimping and doing without because of what Dad owes, Billy. They’ve been working so hard and Mum’s getting all worn out, and Grandma’s feet are so swollen in the heat and she’s bone-tired. She should be sitting down in a comfy chair and drinking tea like that nice Mrs Russell, not working to keep Dad in beer and card games.’ Evie felt hot, angry tears springing to her eyes.

Billy put his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him, wrapping her in his comforting embrace.

‘Do you want me to talk to your dad?’ he asked after a minute in which Evie’s tears subsided as he hugged her against his jacket.

Dad might take some notice of Billy, who was older than she, and a man, of course, but she felt the responsibility for her family should be hers.

‘Shall we both talk to him?’ she suggested. ‘I think he’ll listen to you but it was me that found all this out, and he is my dad, after all.’

Billy stood up and took her hand. ‘I’ll come round this evening after he’s had his tea and we’ll say our piece then, all right?’

‘Thank you,’ said Evie, giving Billy a hug. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Billy kissed the top of her head, then let her go. As he took up his bag to go back to the depot, he watched Evie walking back to her house halfway along Shenty Street. Before she disappeared down the passage she turned to wave with a little smile and Billy felt his heart lift.

He retrieved his bicycle from where he’d chained it to a lamp post, worried about Evie’s future.

Mr Hopkins had a reputation as a bully and there were some nasty stories about him. Billy didn’t want anything violent to happen to Michael Carter. He was Evie’s dad, and Evie’s happiness was very close to Billy’s heart. She was a hard worker and everything she did was to help her family, even giving up school, for all she loved it, to help her grandmother with the washing business.

As he cycled back to the mail depot, Billy resolved to help Evie in whatever way he could. She was an angel and he would never let her down.

CHAPTER TWO

Evie met Harold Pyke from down the road at the back of her house as he was leaving.

‘What did Mr Pyke want?’ she said, going into the scullery.

‘He brought us some peas from his allotment. Says they’re the first of the season,’ Jeanie said.

Sue was wringing out some garments from the dolly tub and putting them in a large bucket, her hands red-raw from the morning’s work. She winked at Evie and looked sideways at Jeanie, who was poking stray curls back under her turban with a damp hand.

‘Just an excuse to come round and admire you in your pinny, if you ask me,’ laughed Sue.

‘Go on with you. He was only being kind,’ said Jeanie, though she looked pleased.

‘It wouldn’t be the first time Harold Pyke’s come round offering veg,’ said Sue. ‘You want to be careful, our Jeanie. He’ll be asking for something in return before long.’

‘Well, what a thing to say!’

‘Don’t encourage him, then, lass.’

‘I can’t help it if the fella’s taken a shine to me,’ Jeanie gave a comical but telling little grin.

‘Not just that fella, either,’ said Sue. ‘I’m not surprised he’s bringing round peas, the way you’ve been tossing your hair around. It’s nice to have the peas and that, but be careful not to fascinate him with your smiles and tossing your curls around.’

‘How can I toss my hair when I’m wearing a scarf?’

‘It’s what you were doing, turban or no turban. And, as I say, there are others, too. That Derek Knowles, for instance. And Patrick Finlay from round the corner. We’re not doing their washing for nowt but a cabbage and a bit of flirting.’

‘I’m a happily married woman and I’m certainly not labouring over a hot copper for a cabbage or a bag of peas, so don’t you worry.’

‘So long as you’ve got that straight,’ said Sue. ‘Now, our Evie, what’s Billy’s news?’

‘He’s coming round later, after tea.’

‘He’s always welcome. He knows that,’ said Jeanie.

Evie wished the business of her father’s debt wasn’t the reason for Billy’s visit, but maybe with his help it could all be resolved without upsetting Mum and Grandma. Evie was feeling better now she’d spoken to Billy.

As she carried the bucket of clean wet clothes to the mangle in the outhouse, she decided not to worry any more about her dad until she had to. There was work to be done, and plenty of it.

It was mid-afternoon when the boys erupted into the house. Jeanie made them each a jam sandwich – thick bread, thin jam – and they went off noisily to play in the street with Paddy and Niall Sullivan, passing the Sullivan boys’ sister Mary on their way out.

‘Hello, Mrs Carter,’ said Mary from the back door.

‘Come in, lass,’ Jeanie called out. ‘That frock’s come up smart, hasn’t it?’ she added to Mary. The school summer dress was second-hand, and Sue had altered it to fit Mary a treat. School uniform was expensive and Mary didn’t mind that hers wasn’t new. She was well aware how fortunate she was to be allowed to continue at school and study, the only one of the seven Sullivan siblings to do so.

‘Mrs Goodwin’s done a stupendous job with it,’ said Mary.

Stupendous – whatever next? thought Jeanie.

‘Is it all right if Evie and I go for a stroll up to the park? I won’t be keeping her from her work, will I?’

‘I’ve just finished,’ announced Evie, beaming at her best friend. ‘Gran says she’s got mending to do and I’ll help Mum with the tea, so we won’t have to be long.’

Mary looked to Jeanie for confirmation.

‘Best get going, then,’ Jeanie smiled.

Mary produced a paper bag of bull’s-eyes from her pocket as the girls went outside and Jeanie could hear them giggling as they skipped down Shenty Street as though they didn’t have a care in the world.

She smoothed down her pinny and put the kettle to boil, pleased to hear Evie’s laughter. Her daughter had been oddly preoccupied today. Evie worked hard, and Jeanie worried that she sometimes forgot Evie was only sixteen, barely a woman yet.

Sue and Jeanie were enjoying a few minutes’ sit-down with a well-deserved cup of tea when they recognised Michael’s heavy footsteps approaching.

‘Got the sack, didn’t I?’ Michael told them, untying his work boots before hurling them through the open back door in a show of temper. ‘There was a mix-up about the maintenance of some pipes and there was a bad leak this afternoon and a lot of beer was lost. Mr Denby called me in. It was like he’d made a note of every single thing I’ve ever missed. I reckon he’s had it in for me for a long while.’

‘Oh, Michael!’ Jeanie’s face was completely white. Deep down she knew her husband was a slacker. He sometimes went into work the worse for wear from the night before, but he was popular at the brewery with his mates and it hadn’t occurred to her that he might be less popular with his boss.

Sue kept quiet but her expression was grim.

‘Couldn’t you go and ask him for another chance?’ Jeanie suggested quietly.

Michael gave a hollow laugh. ‘No hope of that. I told him he could stuff his job and I was well out of it. He never remembers when I’ve done summat properly, only when he wants to pick holes. I told him that straight. I’ve had it with smarming round Denby, at his beck and call all day.’

‘But he’s the boss, Michael.’

‘Aye, well, not any longer,’ muttered Michael. ‘I’ll be my own boss from now on. I’ll answer to no one. If you women can do it then so can I. I can tout my skills around, earn some money from my own gumption.’ He gave a brief smile. ‘Give folk a bit of the old charm, butter ’em up, like, I’ll soon have plenty of satisfied customers.’

‘Like you did Mr Denby, you mean?’ muttered Jeanie.

Sue passed Michael a strong cup of tea with sugar in it. ‘I think Jeanie means you’ll need to find paid work straight away,’ she said diplomatically, trying to keep the peace. ‘It can take a while to build up customers when there’s only you to do it.’ She was fond of her son-in-law but she thought he lived too much by his belief in his luck, and not enough by hard graft.

‘Look, I’m sorry, love. It’s not your fault,’ he went on, taking Jeanie’s hand. He lifted it to his lips and planted a kiss on her rough skin. ‘Mebbe I do need to find work with someone else. I’ll have a look around and see what’s going. There’s proper house-building now – I’m sure I’ll be able for summat. I’m going to have to be,’ he added quietly, sounding unusually forlorn.

Jeanie got up and hugged him to her. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll find a new job,’ she said. ‘In the meantime the washing’s going well and we can take in some more for a week or two, just to tide us over.’

‘I’ll ask around at church,’ said Sue, though they were already working to capacity. ‘That’s where I heard about Mrs Russell, after all.’

As the two women rallied their own spirits and tried to pull him up with them Michael felt even worse. He wondered when would be the best time to break the news of his debt from the card game, realising even as he considered it that there would never be a good time. Maybe if he held his peace something would turn up …

‘Dad, you’re home early,’ said Evie, appearing with the boys at the back door. ‘Here, have one of these sweets – they were giving them away at the shop ’cos the box got wet or something. Anyway, they’re all right.’ She passed round the sweets and then looked properly at her parents.

‘What? You two are a bit gloomy. You haven’t had bad news, have you?’ she asked, wondering whether her father had told her mother about the debt to Mr Hopkins. Then again, it might be something quite different that was making them look so down; perhaps they’d heard someone was ill or even dead.

‘Evie, would you go and collect Bob, please – you’ve probably seen him playing in the street – and Peter, too?’

‘Yes, Mum.’

Evie’s stomach was churning by the time she’d rounded up her brothers and they all trooped into the kitchen where their parents and Grandma Sue were now sitting round the table. Whatever it was, it was very serious.

‘Mum, Dad, tell us. What’s happened?’ asked Evie.

‘I’m out of work, lass,’ said Michael solemnly.

‘Oh, Dad …’ Peter said. ‘But you’ll find another job.’ He sounded confident.

‘Of course, Pete. I shall have to.’

‘Will we starve?’ asked Robert, looking anxious. ‘Will we have to go and live in the woods, and eat berries and boiled nettles?’

‘Give over your nonsense,’ said Jeanie. ‘I don’t know where you get such daft ideas. We’ve got the washing, and your dad’s going to find another job, so in a week or two it’ll all be back to normal.’ She ruffled Bob’s hair and gave him a reassuring smile.

‘But it won’t be,’ Evie blurted out. It was as if her mouth suddenly had a mind of its own.

They all turned to look at her and in that moment her suspicions were confirmed: Dad hadn’t told Mum and Grandma Sue a word about the debt. It was time to face up to the truth. She couldn’t keep quiet a second longer, as if she didn’t know, while Mum and Grandma Sue tried to make the best of things and Dad sat there taking them in, pretending it was all going to be all right.

‘What do you mean, love?’ asked Sue. ‘There’s no need to get upset. We’ll manage somehow.’

‘I mean, what about Mr Hopkins? How on earth are we going to pay what you owe him, just from the washing, Dad?’

Michael sat open-mouthed and there was total silence. It was broken by Sue, who sprang to her feet with surprising speed, looming over Michael, her face a picture of fury.

‘And who the hell is Mr Hopkins?’ she roared.

‘Right, Mum, I’m off to see Evie,’ said Billy, putting a cup of tea down beside his mother’s armchair. ‘Have you got everything you need? I won’t be late.’

‘You’re a good lad, Billy. I’m right as rain, don’t you fret.’

Billy wasn’t looking forward to helping Michael Carter sort out his problems repaying Mr Hopkins. Being a postman, Billy tended to know more than most what happened in several neighbourhoods, though he wasn’t a gossip. He’d heard of at least two men who had been beaten up when they couldn’t pay Hopkins, and some who had had their possessions taken by Hopkins’ men in payment of their debts. Billy had thought before now that, what with Michael’s drinking and his betting, if it hadn’t been for the laundry the family would probably have gone under.

Billy got as far as the corner shop on Lever Lane, at the junction with Shenty Street, when Geraldine Sullivan emerged, rummaging in her handbag and bringing out a packet of Craven ‘A’ cigarettes.

‘Hello, Gerry. Just finishing work, are you?’

‘Yes, it’s been a long day. Mr Amsell does the evening papers but it’s my job to sweep up and tidy the storeroom. I’ll be glad to get home and take these shoes off – and these stockings. It’s that hot in the shop.’ She fanned herself prettily and Billy tried not to think about her taking off her stockings.

Geraldine Sullivan was a real looker, with her glossy dark hair and her big blue eyes. If Mary had more than her fair share of brains, there was no doubt that her elder sister had got the beauty. Geraldine had worked at the corner shop ever since she’d left school. Billy thought she was seventeen or eighteen now but it was hard to tell, what with her red lipstick and her hair always nicely done. She had an easy way with the customers and Billy thought Mr Amsell had realised her beauty was an asset behind the counter as well as her manner, because he knew of several men, old and young, who would choose to go to Amsell’s shop just to be sold a paper by Geraldine Sullivan.

‘It’s the way her hand brushes mine when she counts out the change,’ Patrick Finlay had joked. ‘Gives a man hope.’ Patrick Finlay was sixty if he was a day, and was sweet on half the women in the neighbourhood, including Evie’s mum.

‘I hope Ma’s got something nice saved for my tea,’ Geraldine was saying. She laughed and added, ‘That’s if Da, Stephen, Jamie, Paddy, Niall and especially Cormac haven’t scoffed it all.’ Cormac was her youngest brother, aged five, who of all her siblings resembled her most. Plump and cute, he looked like a dark-haired cherub.

Billy joined in her laughter. ‘Aye, you want to watch out for the little ’un. I reckon he’s got the appetite of a brickie.’

Geraldine offered the open packet of cigarettes but Billy shook his head.

‘No, thanks. That’s one vice I haven’t taken up,’ he smiled.

Geraldine lit her cigarette, tipped her head back with a flick of her hair and blew a plume of smoke into the air. ‘Why, Billy, what vices have you taken up, then?’ She looked him directly in the eye. ‘Do tell. I’m interested.’

‘Ah, man of mystery, me,’ Billy replied.

‘I like a mystery,’ Geraldine said. ‘That’s what we need round here, a bit more excitement, don’t you agree?’

‘Mmm …’ Billy nodded, unsure quite what he was agreeing with. Still, it was pleasant strolling down to Evie’s in easy and attractive company, and fortunately, before Geraldine’s flirting got too much for him, they reached her house.

‘Thanks for walking me home, Billy. Always nice to see you.’ She gave the merest wink, produced her key from her bag and opened the front door. ‘See you soon,’ she promised with a glamorous red smile over her shoulder, and closed the door behind her.

Phew, that Geraldine is getting to be quite a girl, Billy reflected. Not many round here had her style. She reminded him of Elizabeth Taylor in that comedy he’d seen with Evie at the cinema – Father of the Bride. Evie’s prettiness was more homely, with her short brown hair clipped back behind her ears, her natural complexion and her girlish figure.

Reluctantly his thoughts turned to the task ahead of him at the Carters’. Best get it over with, and he’d be pleased to help allay Evie’s worries if he could. She was a darling girl and she shouldn’t have to be worried about her father owing money. He crossed over the road, went up the side to the back door and was surprised to find it closed. He gave a knock and Evie came to open it. Her eyes were red and it was clear she’d been crying.

‘Oh, Billy, thank goodness you’re here.’ She pulled him inside and closed the door. ‘It’s worse than I thought. Dad’s lost his job and there’s all this money to find to pay that Mr Hopkins and we don’t know what to do now.’

‘Sit yourself down, love.’ Sue poured Billy a mug of tea. ‘Michael’s told us the worst and it’s twenty-five pounds he owes.’

‘It’ll never be paid,’ sobbed Jeanie, wiping her eyes with an already sodden handkerchief. ‘How on earth will we ever get that much?’

‘We need to know a bit about this Mr Hopkins,’ said Sue. ‘Evie says you’ve heard of him.’

‘I have, Mrs Goodwin.’ Billy glanced around to see if Peter and Robert were within earshot but there was no sign of them.

‘I’ve sent the boys to their bedroom,’ said Sue, correctly understanding him.

‘It’s not good news, I’m afraid. Mr Hopkins runs a card game upstairs at the King’s Head. I’ve heard the stakes start low, but once you’re drawn in they soon get a lot higher.’

‘The King’s Head?’ gasped Jeanie. ‘Michael, you told me you went to the Lord Nelson with Brendan as usual. I thought this was something to do with the horses. How many other lies have you told me?’

‘I did go to the Nelson with Brendan,’ said Michael. He added in a small voice, ‘But I hadn’t had much luck with the horses lately so when I heard there was a card game at the King’s Head I thought I’d give it a go. I didn’t mean to get in deep. I thought if I went on a bit longer my luck would change and I’d be on to a winning streak.’

‘Pathetic!’ said Sue wrathfully. ‘Go on about this Hopkins, lad.’

‘Well, he tends to win at the cards and then he makes a point of collecting his debts.’

‘You mean by force?’ asked Michael, looking even more worried.

‘By any means he can. He’ll bring in bailiffs to take your furniture, and he’s been known to be violent if he thinks you’re withholding what you could be paying him. And I’ve heard that once he starts adding on the interest it’s difficult to clear the debt.’

‘What are we going to do?’ sobbed Jeanie. ‘We’ll be ruined …’

Billy looked down at his hands, reluctant to agree that this was exactly the situation. A miserable silence settled on the five of them as they tried to think of a solution.

‘When did you say the money is due?’ asked Billy.

‘Friday,’ said Michael, nervously.

The silence resumed. Billy was beginning to see the only possible course of action but it seemed so drastic that he was unwilling to suggest it.

‘Nothing for it but to leave,’ said Sue.

Billy was glad she had been the one to voice what he was thinking.

‘What, leave our house and the washing and everything, and go right away?’ said Jeanie, aghast.

‘It isn’t our house, it’s rented,’ said Michael. ‘And we’ll be out of here anyway if we can’t pay the rent.’

‘So whose fault would that be?’ Jeanie screamed. ‘I married you for better or for worse, Michael Carter, but I never thought the worst would be this bad. You’ll have us all homeless. I can’t believe what you’ve brought us to.’

‘C’mon on, love. No need to get hysterical.’

‘What do you expect me to be when it looks like I’m going to lose everything I’ve got and it’s all your fault?’ She had bitten her tongue for years but now everything was pouring out. ‘Where were you when Mum and I were washing and ironing half the night to make ends meet? I’ll tell you where: down the Nelson, drinking your wages and putting bets on half-dead three-legged nags that should have been at the knacker’s. Or was it down the King’s Head, playing some card game you probably didn’t understand against some crook with marked cards?’

‘It was bad luck—’ Michael began.

‘It was bad luck all right,’ screeched Jeanie. ‘It was bad luck for me that I ever set eyes on you!’

She got up and rushed out, slamming the kitchen door behind her. The others heard her stomping upstairs and then the bedroom door crashing shut.

Evie and Billy exchanged embarrassed glances.

‘I’ll go up when she’s had a chance to calm down,’ said Sue.

‘I’ll go …’ said Michael, rising from his chair.

‘You’ve done enough. Sit down and stay here until we’ve sorted this out,’ Sue barked, and Michael slumped in his chair, defeated.

Evie cleared her throat. ‘What do you think, Billy? Is Grandma right? Is running away the best thing to do?’

‘I’m afraid it is. If you can’t pay Hopkins what you owe, he’ll dog you until you do, Mr Carter. The only way to be free of him is to leave and go somewhere he doesn’t know. That means right away from here, to another part of the country.’

‘Leave not just our home but all our friends? But this is all we’ve ever known,’ said Evie, looking pleadingly at Billy.

‘It’ll be hard, love, and I wish I could say different, but I think it’s the only way. Is that what you’re thinking, Mrs Goodwin?’

‘I’m afraid so, Billy. We’ll have to keep quiet about it, too, as we don’t want Hopkins after us where we’ve gone. And we’ll have to go soon before word gets round about Michael losing his job or Hopkins’ men will be here to take what they can sooner rather than later, if they think that’s all they’ll be getting.’

Billy nodded. Evie’s grandma had grasped the situation exactly.

‘But where will we go?’ Evie asked. ‘We don’t know anywhere but here. We don’t even have any relatives we can go to.’ She looked as if she were about to cry again and Billy passed her his clean handkerchief.

‘Don’t fret yourself, Evie. At least you’ll all be together.’

‘But I won’t be together with all my friends, and if it has to be a secret I won’t be able to tell them where we’ve gone either,’ Evie sniffed. ‘I won’t be together with you,’ she added.

‘I know, love, but I won’t lose sight of you, I promise. I’ll know where you are and I can keep a secret. Your gran’s right: it would be better to tell as few folk as possible and to go as quickly as you can before Hopkins gets to hear.’

‘Then it had better be straight away,’ Michael said, getting up and prowling around the kitchen worriedly. ‘By Monday all the folk at the brewery will know I’ve been sacked.’

‘Right, well, I’ve been thinking,’ Sue declared, ‘and I think we should decide where we’re going this evening. We can’t just set off empty-handed and with no idea where we’re heading.’ She took a lined writing pad and a chewed pencil of Robert’s from a drawer behind her. ‘Let’s make a list of what we know.’

Evie looked blank. ‘I don’t know anything, Grandma.’ Michael was shaking his head, too.

‘Nonsense,’ said Sue. ‘Buck up, the pair of you. And you, Billy. Let’s put our heads together and see what we can manage.’

‘Right,’ said Billy, determined to rise to Evie’s grandma’s expectations. ‘As I say, it’ll have to be somewhere far enough away that Hopkins doesn’t know it. You’ll have to sort of … disappear. North is what Hopkins knows. So that means going south.’

‘Good thinking,’ Sue muttered, writing it down. ‘And we’ll need to find somewhere to live and then some work.’ She looked up and gave Michael a meaningful stare.

‘We don’t know about those things, but I’ve an idea who might be able to help,’ said Evie. ‘Mr Sullivan.’

‘Aye, Brendan can be trusted to keep quiet and he has family all over the place,’ Michael said. ‘I’ll go over and get him, shall I?’

‘You do that,’ said Sue, ‘but remember not to say anything while you’re there. The Sullivans are good folk but you don’t want to let slip our business to the entire houseful in case it accidentally gets passed on.’

Michael collected his boots from where he’d thrown them out of the back door, put them on and went to fetch Brendan.

It was late that night that Evie let Billy out through the back door and the Carters went wearily to bed. To Evie it felt as if years had passed since she’d gone to Mrs Russell’s that morning with Grandma Sue.

There wouldn’t be another wash for Mrs Russell, though. When Annie came with the bundle on Wednesday she’d find the house empty and the family gone. Evie felt sorry to be letting down the kindly widow and the other loyal customers.

Brendan had shown himself to be a true friend that evening. He’d listened to Michael’s account of how he’d been kicked out so unfairly from his job and commiserated wholeheartedly. He’d been less sympathetic about the card game and the debt to Mr Hopkins – ‘I told you not to go near the King’s Head, Michael. You may as well be playing cards with the devil himself as that Hopkins fella’ – and then he got down to practicalities in a way that made Evie think how lucky Mary was to have such a clear-thinking and sensible father.

Not only had Brendan got a cousin with a big van, who could transport them and as many of their belongings as could fit in it, but he also had a friend who lived well over a hundred miles south. Brendan’s friend Jack knew of an empty property that he thought the Carters would be able to rent, at least until they found something better. Jack had his ear to the ground and he said he’d look out for any jobs going for Michael, too.

Brendan fixed all this up from the public telephone box outside Mr Amsell’s shop, waiting for incoming calls to learn the facts and confirm the details, and writing them all down. The arrangements for renting the empty place were hazy, to say the least, but the Carters had the address and Brendan’s word on the reliability of his friend. In the circumstances, even such vague progress felt like something to be positive about.

Not long after Brendan came over, Jeanie had been persuaded to come downstairs and she’d brought the boys down with her to join in the discussion.

‘They’re in this with us. It affects all of us, and Peter and Robert need to know what’s going to happen … and why,’ she said, looking at Michael with her eyes narrowed.

‘You’re right, lass,’ said Michael. ‘It’s all going to be an exciting adventure, eh, fellas?’

Robert nodded dumbly, not really understanding. Peter, his mouth a tight line, looked away, ignoring his father.

Brendan had brought a couple of bottles of Guinness across with him ‘to help things along’, which pleased Michael, who emptied and refilled his own glass with remarkable speed.

By the end of the evening Sue’s bold handwriting covered several pages of the writing pad and the plan for the Carters to move had a timetable. Fergus Sullivan, Brendan’s cousin, was bringing the van at dawn on Sunday morning and the family were to have everything they wanted to take packed ready and piled by the front door, to be loaded quickly and discreetly.

‘I’ll come over and give you a hand,’ Billy said. ‘It’s my day off and I’m used to getting up early.’

‘Thank you,’ Jeanie said. ‘What will we do without you?’

‘Oh, Mum …’ Evie’s heart was heavy with her grief. ‘We’re going to have to find out, that’s for sure.’

Now, as she climbed into bed in the stuffy attic room and wished Grandma Sue a goodnight, she felt hot tears running down her face. One more day in this house, the only home she had ever known. Even now she could hardly believe it. And in about … she totted it up quickly … thirty hours she would be parted from Billy.