Leaning forward, Rosie gave a half wink. ‘Go on then, let’s hear it.’

‘We can use Eddie’s pram.’

‘What, with him in it?’

‘Course! Where else would he be?’

‘What, in his pram? With bags of spuds and carrots and the dear Lord knows what else?’

‘Why not?’

‘Poor little mite!’

Molly laughed out loud. ‘It won’t be so bad,’ she said. ‘The groceries and such will be up one end of the pram, and Eddie up the other. We won’t suffocate him if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘I should ruddy well hope not.’ Seeing the funny side of it, Rosie couldn’t help but smile.

‘So – what d’you reckon?’

‘It’s worth thinking about.’

‘But will it work until we make a bit of money and can get a barrow?’

Rosie thought for a minute. ‘Well, it might, if the good Lord wills it.’ She laughed out loud. ‘Mebbe we should ask the lad what he thinks, eh? He might not like the idea o’ sharing his pram with a pound o’ smelly fish.’

‘Happen we’ll offer him a share of the profit. He’s a sensible fella. He knows a good thing when he sees one.’

The conversation ended in laughter. ‘I’d better go,’ Rosie said, ‘before I’m as daft as you!’

‘See you later then.’

‘I’ll be back soon after twelve. She’ll be out of that bed even if I have to drag her out by the scruff of the neck.’ With that Rosie marched off, leaving Molly glad it wasn’t her who was about to be ‘dragged out by the scruff of her neck’.

After Rosie had gone, Molly ushered the children in and gave them a hot drink. ‘It’s the last of the cocoa till I get to the shops,’ she warned, ‘so make the most of it.’ Sitting Eddie in his high-chair, she fastened a bib round his neck. ‘When you’ve finished that, you can all sit down by the fireside and warm yerselves.’

‘Aw!’ As usual, Milly had something to say. ‘We wanted to go out and play in the snow again.’

‘You can want on,’ her big sister answered firmly. ‘Snow or no snow, you’re not going out any more today.’

‘Let’s play hide and seek!’ Bertha cried. ‘Go on! I’ll count to ten. Go on! Go and hide!’

Taking Eddie with them, they ran from one room to another, upstairs and down, one minute screeching and the next silent as church mice. ‘Take care not to hurt your little brother,’ Molly told them, and smiled when she saw his little legs running to keep up, his hand in Georgie’s and a big smile on his dear little face.

Grateful for a few minutes to herself, Molly went into the scullery and prepared the Sunday dinner: mashed potatoes, rabbit pie and cabbage. There was jam tart for afters and custard to go with it.

With the vegetables ready to cook on the stove, and the pie in the oven, Molly turned her mind to the ironing.