Behind Molly, Milly’s excited voice rang down the passage. ‘Look, Molly!’ she called. ‘Eddie’s coming down the stairs all by himself.’

From the front step, Molly swung round, horrified to see the little chap coming down the stairs, his arms open as if to leap all the way to the bottom. Every time Milly went to get him, he screeched with laughter and wobbled dangerously. ‘No, Eddie!’ Rushing to the stairs, Molly plucked him into her arms. ‘You little monkey, that’s enough of that.’ Later, now he’d found his courage, she would have to teach him how to come down backwards.

‘Milly, run back and tell the others it’s time to get up.’ Taking the bairn into the parlour, she added, ‘Tell them breakfast is ready. That’ll shift them.’

Putting Eddie on the floor so he could toddle about, she laughed when he scurried straight for the stairs. ‘Oh no you don’t,’ she said and much to his frustration, shut the parlour door.

Giving him an old cardboard box to play with, she set about getting the toast under the grill. She then put a slab of butter in the dish; rather shame-facedly got out a new pot of jam from the store cupboard and put them both on the table, together with two knives. She half-filled the cups with milk and carried them through. Next, she put a kettle of water on to boil, ready to wash their hands and faces, and while that was singing, she laid out their clean clothes all in a row on the settee.

‘Come on, you lot!’ With Eddie tucked under her arm, she yelled up the stairs. ‘Down here now, or you won’t have time for breakfast before school.’

A small face appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘I’m not going to school till after Christmas.’ It was Bertha, big-eyed and with her dark hair a-tumble.

Molly smiled. ‘I know you’re not, sweetheart,’ she said, ‘but I need to get you all washed and dressed, so come down now, there’s a good girl, and fetch the others with you.’

Milly was next, then Georgie. ‘I can wash myself,’ he protested when Molly dabbed a wet flannel at his face. ‘I’m already eight. Wash Milly, she’s only six, and she’s a girl!’

Sighing, Molly left him to it and brought another flannel, which she first scrubbed with soap and then gently dipped into the warm water. With Milly squirming and grumbling, she washed and dressed her, then sat her at the table. Hot on her tail was Bertha, who stood still as an angel while Molly got her washed and ready. ‘You’re a good girl,’ she told her, sending her up to the table.

‘So am I.’ Milly was indignant, until her big sister kissed her soundly. ‘Yes, love, you’re a good girl, too,’ she said, and her heart ached for the little ones.

It didn’t take long to wash Eddie and change his nappy. ‘Right!’ Sitting him on her lap, Molly gave them each two chunks of bread. ‘You can help yourself to butter and jam,’ she told Georgie, ‘and try not to drop anything on the tablecloth.’