shared by all three. How families with even more children managed was a mystery to Geraldine, though friends had at times mentioned four or more to a bed. After evening meals, if not going out, everyone would end up in the front room, most of which were spent around the gramophone, allowing the boys to go to bed when they were ready.
âMum, let Fred come down,â pleaded Geraldine, following her mother into the back room.
âItâll do âim good ter stew up there for a bit,â said Mum, laying out plates. âTeach âim a lesson.â By this, she knew Mum would relent before the meal was finished.
Mum turned to her as Dad came creaking downstairs. Every stair creaked, as did the beds, chairs and cupboard doors. There were no secrets in this house.
âI didnât get you any fish ân chips, Gel. Didnât know when youâd be âome. I could take a bit off each of ours if you like.â
âNo, Iâm fine, Mum. We âad a big dinner, remember. Iâd much sooner âave a sandwich. Fish and chips make you fat.â
Her mother smiled, glancing at her daughterâs slim figure, still in the best dress sheâd put on for going up West, one sheâd made herself in slate grey some while back. Geraldine had more dresses than most, being skilled on the sewing machine, artistic. She was proud of her.
âI got some in for Evie. Sheâs at âer friendâs âouse down the street â should be âome any minute now. You could âave a bit of âers.â
âNo thanks, Mum.â
âWell if yer donât want any thereâs some cheese in the larder. Yer could âave that. I werenât sure when youâd be âome, thatâs why I didnât get yer any.â
She eyed the parcel Geraldine had put down on a chair on coming in. âIs that what yer went up the West End for? Spending yer âard-earned money on more stuff ter make. What yer goinâ ter make now, as if you ainât got enough?â This at least was a secret. No secret that sheâd gone off up the West End â it was a rule of Mumâs that her family always said where they were going in case they were needed urgently at home or had an accident out. Though how theyâd have contacted each other if there had been any trouble had never been explained. The police coming round, she supposed, or some messenger from a hospital.
But the dress was a secret, at least until she had it all finished or the moment she started treadling away on the machine, the noise rumbling all over the house and Mum coming up to see what it was she was doing. Sheâd want to know all the ins and outs of what she was making, and in the end when it finally came out, she would inevitably say, âYerâll be wearing a bridesmaid dress, so why make somethink else? Yerâll upset Mavis thinking yer donât like what she got yer.â Though Mavis knew that already. Sheâd told her so, that she hated rose pink.
âDid yer go with a friend then?â Mum was asking.
Geraldine shrugged. âNo, on me own.â
Her mother moved past her to get the food from the oven as Dad went into the back room to seat himself at the table. ââBout time you got yerself a boyfriend,â she said.
âIâve got boyfriends.â
âI mean a real boyfriend, someone steady. Youâll find yourself left on the shelf if you ainât careful.â
âMum, Iâm only eighteen. Iâve got time.â
Not bothering to reply to that, Mum hurried off into the back room, each hand now carrying a loaded plate, a tea towel protecting her skin from the ovenâs heat. âFred!â she called out as she went. âYours is on the table.â
As Fred came thumping down the stairs, all forgiven, the back door burst open to admit Evie. âBlimey!â exploded the twelve-year-old. âIt donât âalf stink out