‘Do you really think so? Thanks, Lena. I love working here and I can’t believe how quickly the time passes. I’ve only got one hour to go, but I can’t wait to come back tomorrow.’

Lena chuckled. ‘Huh, I doubt you’ll be feeling that enthusiastic after a few weeks.’ She then told Sarah to fetch another stool from the storeroom, and they sat together behind the counter. ‘We normally have a quiet spot about now and it won’t get busy again until the schools finish for the day. This is when I normally do my stocktaking. I’ll go through that with you another day, and in the meantime, it gives you and me a chance to have a natter.’

The obvious topic of conversation was George, and Lena explained to Sarah how he’d come to have such horrific scarring. When she told Sarah about George screaming in agony as his flesh had blackened and melted from his face, she saw tears in the girl’s eyes and regretted being so graphic. But her son was a brave young man, and rarely talked about what had happened to him. He was better at putting on a cheery face that betrayed nothing of the excruciating suffering he’d been through. No one but she really understood how much George had endured, and seeing her son in unbearable pain had deeply affected her too. It was good to talk and get it off her chest, and though the bomb had dropped years earlier, Lena realised she’d been left traumatised. George had physical scars, but she had mental ones.

Nevertheless, once Lena realised she was upsetting Sarah, she changed the subject. An hour passed, and in that time, Lena gently probed. She found out that the rumours she’d heard were true. She didn’t think Sarah was anything like her mother, but she’d keep an eye on the takings for now, just in case.

Her day’s work over, Sarah dashed from the shop and collected Tommy. When they arrived home, Mo called over the banister, ‘Congratulations on your first day at work. How was it?’

‘Fine. I enjoyed it.’

‘Come up and tell me all about it.’

‘I want to get these shoes off, so why don’t you come down here?’

‘Yeah, all right,’ Mo agreed.

‘Can I go out to play with Larry?’ Tommy appealed.

‘Yeah, all right,’ Sarah agreed, and once inside their room she flopped on the sofa, kicking off her shoes.

Mo came in to sit next to her and wrinkled her nose, ‘Phew, those feet of yours smell a bit cheesy.’

‘You cheeky mare. Yours would too if you’d been on them for hours, and my shoes ain’t exactly new,’ Sarah protested, but smiled, unoffended.

‘Well, come on then, tell me what it was like in the shop.’