cup of tea and a bit of a lie-down.’
Sally didn’t know what to make of Mrs Reilly. She seemed really nice, and had been very kind about Ernie making a show of himself – but what did a woman as rich as her want from them? She’d met do-gooders before, and they always wanted something in return for their favours; like the lady in the bakery back home, who wanted her ironing done in exchange for the few stale rolls she handed over begrudgingly at the end of the week.
Her doubts and suspicions multiplied as they turned from the seafront and began to climb the steep hill lined with row upon row of grand terraced houses. There were no factories or gasworks overshadowing them; no cracked pavements or littered streets with kids playing football, and women leaning in their doorways having a gossip. The windows were clean, the paintwork shining in the autumn sunlight, steps scrubbed, railings clear of rust. The gardens were neat and even the smoke from the chimneys was blown away by the wind coming off the sea.
She spotted two pubs down a side street, and a row of shops – but no sign of Goldman’s Clothing factory where she was supposed to start work in two days’ time.
‘That’s the local shops,’ said Peggy, slowing the car. ‘The big building at the far end is the hospital, and the one opposite it is the primary school where my daughter Anne teaches. Bob started at the secondary school this term, but Charlie goes there, and so will Ernie.’
‘But Billy said there weren’t no school in the country,’ wailed Ernie from the back seat. He was obviously feeling better.
Peggy laughed. ‘This is the seaside, and there is school,’ she said before resuming the drive.
Ernie opened his mouth to express his fury at having been misled, and Sally hurriedly changed the subject. ‘How far is it to Goldman’s factory?’
Peggy frowned. ‘Goldman’s? Is that where you’ll be working? How did you manage to organise that?’
‘Me boss at ’ome arranged it. Mr Goldman’s ’is brother-in-law.’
‘I see.’ Peggy changed down gears as the hill steepened. ‘You don’t look old enough to be working at all,’ she said, glancing at her, ‘and Goldman is a hard taskmaster, by all accounts. I’m sure I can get you something a little less—’
Now it was Sally’s turn to be indignant. ‘I’m sixteen,’ she replied, ‘and I’ve been ’olding down me job at Solomon’s for near on two year now. I know the work, and I’m good at it.’
‘I see,’ sighed Peggy. She seemed to pull her thoughts together. ‘Goldman’s is past the hospital and primary school at the end of that road,’ she said, with a nod of her head. ‘It will be a bit of a walk every day once winter really sets in, but there’s a spare bicycle in Ron’s shed. You can borrow that once it’s been mended.’
Sally was feeling rather ashamed of her outburst. Mrs Reilly was only trying to be helpful – but she didn’t have the first idea of how to ride a bike, and was reluctant to admit it. ‘I don’t mind walking,’ she replied.
Peggy glanced across at her. ‘Well, if you change your mind, Anne or one of the boys will show you how to ride it. It’s a bit of an old bone-shaker, but it’ll get you there and back all right.’ She pulled into a side street and brought the car to a halt halfway along. ‘This is it,’ she said, turning off the engine. ‘Welcome to Beach View.’
‘I can’t see the beach,’ grumbled Ernie, who was kneeling on the seat, looking out of the back window.
Sally was about to admonish him for being rude when Peggy intervened. ‘You will from your bedroom window,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Come on, let’s get you indoors. Anne and the boys will be home from school by now, and we can all get acquainted.’
Sally looked up at the terraced house, and felt even more uneasy. It was really smart, like one of the mansions near Hyde Park, with its portico and wide, white steps leading up to a smart door that had coloured panels of glass which caught the sun. There was a brass knob, and a knocker in the shape of a lion’s head, and at the end of the sweeping white steps were lanterns set into sturdy concrete pillars. She took in the frothy white net curtains at the taped windows, the tubs of flowers beside the door, and