The children were ready to leave the house for school and stood as a pack, dressed in the shoes and coats Maura had left as her parting gift. One huge upside of Maura’s gifts had been the kids not having to share shoes and clothes, so they had all been able to attend school at the same time, much to Miss Devlin’s delight and Peggy’s, because it meant the house was empty and quiet each day.

Little Paddy chose not to walk to school with the others; he had to find an excuse to get back upstairs without his mother noticing. She had reluctantly learnt to accept Scamp but Max, found by Scamp soon after his best friend Harry Doherty left and seen by little Paddy as a partial replacement, would be a different matter entirely. He collected up the pobs bowls and was peering into the empty bread crock with a worried frown.

‘Don’t you be worrying now,’ said Peggy. ‘There’s nothin’ in there, but I’ll go over the road to Nana Kathleen and see if she can lend us something. You won’t go without your tea, I’ll make sure of that.’

Peggy sounded more confident than she felt and little Paddy could hear the guilt in her voice. Maura had always helped her to manage her money, for money was a mystery to Peggy. It slipped through her fingers and, unable to add up very well, she had no idea how.

‘Go on, lad, off to school, no dawdling. Why are you the last to leave?’ asked Peggy as she slapped his cap onto his head and pushed him out of the door.

‘Oh Mam, my bag!’ he said, ducking under her arm and clattering up the wooden staircase. ‘Max, Max, quick,’ he hissed as he pulled out the box from under the bed. Max opened the lid himself and little Paddy dropped him into his knapsack. ‘Here you go, pobs,’ said little Paddy, opening his hand with the pobs he had kept from the bowls. He smiled as the rat made short work of his breakfast and slipped into the knapsack.

‘For goodness’ sake, Paddy,’ said Peggy as he walked back into the kitchen. ‘What’s got into you?’ And she thrust him out into the cobbled yard. She was in a hurry to finish the half-smoked Woodbine big Paddy had pinched off and left on the kitchen table, Peggy pushing him out of the door before he had time to slip it behind his ear. The effort of the morning, the sheer agony of getting big Paddy out and down the steps, the worry of making the bread stretch, the shame of begging milk from Eric… it was all almost too much. But at least Paddy was in work, all the kids were at school and she had half a Woodbine to look forward to with her broken biscuits.