Cordelia pursed her lips, clearly not convinced.

Peggy put her arm about her narrow shoulders and gently hugged her. ‘Just think, Cordy. We could have a new kitchen and bathroom – a freshly painted and papered hall with a new stair carpet – and a really smart dining room. Daisy and Charlie will have their own rooms upstairs, and I shall have the washing machine I’ve always dreamed of as well as a smart new fridge.’

She clapped her hands in delight. ‘Oh, the bliss of never having to use that blessed mangle again,’ she sighed. ‘And won’t it be absolute heaven not to have the milk and meat go off on a hot day – and be able to put the washing in the machine and just leave it while I’m doing something else? I shall have so much spare time I won’t know what to do with myself.’

‘I doubt you’ll ever be idle, my dear,’ the elderly woman replied. ‘But please don’t rush into things. I know you’re excited now, and want what Anne and Doris have, but you need to think long and hard before you make too many changes.’

‘Well, of course I will, Cordy. The whole enterprise will cost a lot of money, even with Ron, Frank and Charlie doing their bit, and I’ve never been one to rush into anything, as you know. Besides, nothing can be done until we have the house to ourselves again, so please don’t fret.’

Cordelia smiled, but her eyes were troubled as she thought about Jim, who would have fond and lasting memories of his home, and expect it to be exactly the same on his return. What he would make of all Peggy’s ideas was a mystery, but she had an uneasy feeling he’d be hugely disappointed to find it had changed beyond recognition.

9

Doris had been on tenterhooks all Friday, for although John’s back seemed much better, she was terrified he’d overdo things and not be right for Saturday. She’d forbidden him to come into the office today as it involved a bit of a walk and a steep climb up wooden stairs to get to it, and had ordered him firmly not to do any gardening or heavy lifting.

Yet try as she might, she was finding it hard to concentrate on her work, for not only was she preoccupied with John, the purchase of her bungalow, her wedding and the delightful thought of having her son Anthony at home for a while, but she was also facing the imminent arrival of her younger sister, Doreen.

Doris wasn’t really looking forward to seeing her again, for they’d never really got on, and the last time they’d met, Doreen had been insufferably rude and insensitive, which had properly put Doris’s back up. But two years had passed and they were both more settled in their personal lives than before, so maybe it was time to mend fences.

However, she certainly wouldn’t put up with any nonsense from Doreen, who to her mind wasn’t leading an altogether respectable life. She might have a good secretarial job down in Wales, and be a loving mother to her children, but she was divorced; the baby she was raising was the illegitimate offspring of some seaman she’d been having an affair with; and now, by all accounts, Doreen was carrying on with one of the schoolmasters. Archie Blake’s death had been unfortunate, and Doreen had been very cut up about it, but that was no excuse, really, for getting pregnant without a wedding ring on her finger, and behaving like a trollop.