While they ran off in fits of laughter, she told Molly, ‘Well, I managed to get Sandra out of bed. Dad’s off down the pub, so the road’s clear if you want to go and talk with her now.’

Molly began packing away the ironing. ‘No, don’t do that, lass,’ Rosie protested. ‘Sure, I can carry on with it till yer get back.’

‘Dad’s still abed. If you managed to get Sandra out, happen you’ll try the same technique on him?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Rosie actually blushed. ‘I threw the clothes off her and smacked her arse, so I did. I can’t see me doing that to your father, can you?’

Molly saw what she meant. ‘Better not,’ she giggled. ‘Just keep yelling at the bottom of the stairs. He’ll get fed up with it in time.’

‘Our Sandra’s the same. It’s like drawing teeth to get her outta bed, so it is.’

‘I’ve the dinner cooking, Rosie. Can you take a peep at it every now and then? The veg will need to go on soon.’

‘I’ll ask the same of you, lass. I’ve a hotpot in the oven, and given half a chance our Sandra would let it burn to a cinder.’ Before she left, Molly changed Eddie’s nappy and put him in his pram. ‘The way he’s been running round, he’ll be asleep in minutes,’ she predicted.

As she went out the door, she heard Rosie saying, ‘You were tired an’ all, weren’t ye, lad, eh?’ From that, Molly assumed Eddie had already dropped off to sleep. After all, he was only a bairn, bless his heart.

Chapter Fourteen

Walking down the street, Molly saw the car out of the corner of her eye; a big, posh car, nosing its way along the street. From inside, a small-faced man with dark, swept-back hair appeared to be peering out the window to examine the house numbers.

Molly thought both the car and the man looked out of place. ‘You’ll find none of your kind down Victoria Street,’ she mused.

Knocking on Rosie’s door, she stamped her feet in an effort to keep warm. ‘Come on, Sandra, where the devil are you?’

A minute or two passed and there was still no answer, so she knocked again, muttering, ‘If she’s gone back to bed, her mam’ll have her guts for garters.’

Just then, Sandra flung open the door, looking fed up and hung-over. ‘Talking to yerself now, is it?’ she grumbled. ‘They lock you away for less than that.’

Molly pointed to the car. ‘I reckon that bloke’s lost.’

Sandra shrugged her shoulders. ‘So what?’

‘Happen I should see if I can help?’

‘Don’t be bloody daft, it’s freezing. Get yerself in ’ere.’ Stepping aside to let her friend in, Sandra poked her head out to yell at the driver, ‘Piss off, you… afore some common old dog cocks its leg up your car!’

Horrified, Molly pushed her way through. ‘Honest to God, Sandra, you’d get anybody hanged.’