Paddy had heard stories about Speke, the concrete new towns and the Giro cheques people lived on because they could no longer travel to work. He didn’t want to go there, he wanted to stay on the four streets, next to the docks and the ships, forever. Max shifted to make himself more comfortable in his pocket and Paddy froze, sure Peggy would have noticed the wriggling.

Peggy put her hand on her son’s head and ruffled his hair. ‘Paddy, you’ll be the death of me, honest to God. Don’t you be worrying about the rent, I’ll get it paid, I promise. Out you go, now, and don’t be fretting about your da, I’ll cadge him a fag from someone.’

Peggy closed the door behind him and took the letter from her apron pocket. She had worked out her sums on the back of the envelope and she first inspected her column of figures. This would be the fourth week with no rent paid and the letter made it quite clear what was about to happen to them if she didn’t pay the arrears in full. The dock board were sending the bailiffs round and they would all be out on the street the following Friday and everyone would witness her humiliation and shame. Peggy’s head felt as though it was filled with the candyfloss they ate at the carnival and she couldn’t think straight. Her skin prickled with fear, as she pushed the envelope back down into her apron pocket. She opened the press door; it was empty. There was nothing in for anyone to eat, not even a broken biscuit. She blessed herself.

‘Jesus wept, I’ll have to go to Kathleen.’ Kathleen would help her to feed the kids, she was sure, she would cross the road, swallow her pride and ask for help. As she closed the wooden doors, the ceiling thudded and plaster flakes fell around her.

‘Is Paddy back with my baccy yet? And where’s my tea?’ Big Paddy’s voice boomed down the stairs.

Peggy’s eyes fell on the bread knife and rage threatened to consume her. The all-too-common vision of Paddy, impaled to the tip, his arms and legs flailing, a look of surprise on his face, filled her thoughts and she let them rest there for a few seconds before banishing them.

‘There’s no tea and no baccy because they cost money!’ she shouted up the stairs.

‘Oh, go on, queen, I know Shelagh brought you a cup full of tea leaves and sugar round last night; I heard her in the kitchen. I think it might help me back a bit if you have two Anadin to go with it.’