‘Thank you – I will try,’ Marek said. His smile lit up his face.

VIII

EM

Forty-One

Summer 1948

‘Tara, Mr Perry – see you on Tuesday!’

The forced smile faded from Em’s face as she hurried away from work after her Saturday half-day. Her head was throbbing and she felt weary and a bit queasy. When the sick feeling started, it had given her a momentary jolt of excitement. Did that mean . . . ? Could she be . . . ? So often that had happened over these past two years, some small thing giving her hope. But no, of course there was no baby. Her monthly visitor had only just finished. She was just a bit tired, and churned up, that was all. If she took a couple of aspirin she’d feel better.

There might even be a few things left to buy in the shops before she went back to Norm’s mom’s. Even now she struggled to call the place ‘home’.

The long years of rationing had not improved anyone’s temper. The only thing derationed so far was bread, and everyone was worn out and fed up with it all. The war had been over for three years and nothing much seemed to have improved! She knew Edna Stapleton would have done the main food shop, but she wanted to get Robbie his sweets, and Edna had asked her to go to a particular shop for eggs.

There was no luck with the eggs, but she managed to get Robbie’s sweet ration, then headed back, feeling weary and irritable. Turning into Reginald Road in Saltley, she met with a sight that did nothing to improve her temper. Ahead of her along the road was Norm, dragging a sobbing Robbie by the hand.

Em tutted. Norm was supposed to have taken Robbie to the barber’s – early on before it got too crowded. He had obviously left it until the last moment and they were only just on their way back. And why was Robbie blarting? she asked herself crossly. God knew, Norm didn’t have to do much for him – couldn’t he even manage to keep the child happy for the short time that he did spend with him?

She reached the house just after them and was all ready to be snappy.

‘What’s the matter with him?’ she demanded, as they all crowded into the tiny hall. She could hear her mother-in-law somewhere at the back, calling, ‘Now, now – what’s all that noise and fuss about?’

She could see that Robbie had been to the barber’s and received a severe short back and sides. Then she caught sight of his ear.

‘He cut me!’ Robbie howled even harder for his mother’s benefit. ‘He cut me with the scissors and then put ’is stingy pencil on it and it hurt!’

‘Oh dear, let’s have a look.’ Ignoring Norm, on whom she still, rather unreasonably, blamed all the trouble, Em squatted down and looked at Robbie’s smarting ear. The barber had nicked it and then tried to ease the damage with a styptic pencil, which tended to sting even more than the cut. ‘Ooh, that looks sore – never mind, we’ll see if we can find a plaster. And, look, I got your sweeties for you. You can have one before dinner, just as a treat.’