‘Well, sure this letter has dashed all my hopes that Peggy was doing all right without me. She’s been to Kathleen to borrow money for the kids’ teas a few times and Kathleen and Maggie Trott are feeding them as much as they can. Shelagh has been saying she doesn’t know how they are going to pay the rent because Paddy isn’t getting out of bed half of the time and, Holy Mother of God, the carnival is on its knees. Kathleen says the only person doing anything is Eric; he’s painted the float all nice, but there isn’t a scrap of bunting made.’

Maura slapped the letter in the air. ‘I don’t believe it, it’s all bad news.’ She held it closer to her face. ‘Kathleen has the kids over on a Sunday – she’s doing two sittings, Jerry and Alice, Nellie and Joseph first and then she sends Nellie out to get the Nolans from the wasteland and take them back for a feed. She says they would go all day with nothing but bread and dripping if they didn’t. Oh Tommy, God love them!’ Maura looked upset. ‘Kathleen says she’s praying for the Morry to come in or it will be the worst carnival on the streets for many a year.’

Tommy let out a long whistle. ‘As bad as that? Looks like we did the right thing, getting out when we did.’

Maura looked perturbed and sad as she opened the next letter. She had been looking forward to this hour all day and now she felt nothing but concern for families she knew as well as if they were her own. ‘Let’s hope there is happier news in this one,’ she said as she opened out the sheet of paper. This time she read the contents out loud almost as quickly as she read them to herself.

‘This is from the dock and harbour board asking us to sign the rent book back to them. They can’t do that! The rent is paid in full.’ They had continued to pay rent on the house, even keeping their furniture there. They had moved into the Talk of the Town with all they could carry, intending to send for the furniture, but never quite getting around to it. They were both aware, with the housing shortage in Liverpool, that once they signed over the rent book they would never get the house back and, even though the postal order Maura religiously sent to the dock and harbour board every Friday was money she could have well done with as she watched their windfall deplete, she had been compelled never to miss a week.

‘And I’m not sure we should send the rent book back,’ said Tommy.