Molly looked at the face of her mother and was struck, as always, at how pretty she had been, the fresh young skin and smiling, bright eyes, and the joy in her face as she held on to the arm of her new husband. Stroking the tip of her finger along her mother’s face, Molly murmured, ‘I don’t suppose you thought he would ever turn out the way he did.’ For a moment she felt a surge of empathy with her mam, but the sound of laughter caused her to cast her gaze down at the two children, and her heart was filled with bitterness. Laying the photograph on the table, she told her mam, ‘You both turned out bad!’

Tearing into the work, she took down the mantel-cloth, a beautiful green velvet thing, with long tassels that danced in the heat from the fire. With great care, she took it out to the back yard where she gave it a gentle shaking; as the dust flew upwards and away, Molly wished she could go with it.

Taking the mantel-cloth back indoors, she folded it and laid it over the back of a chair, then set to washing the mantelpiece. That done, she put back the cloth and all the ornaments. Next, the hearth rug was taken outside and hung over the line. After giving it a good beating, Molly left it to freshen in the breeze, while she swept the carpet and dusted the furniture.

The next job, and one she hated, was blackleading the fire-range. Taking the old socks out of the galvanised bucket, she drew them over her arms, then got out the cloth and blacklead and rubbed a generous measure into the ironwork, working it round and round like her mam did, until the whole thing was covered. Next, she took off the surplus, then finished the job with the soft brush, polishing and polishing, until the range positively glowed. Stepping back to study her handiwork, she gave a sigh of satisfaction. ‘That should do for a month at least,’ she muttered.

Her mam used to blacklead it once a fortnight, but though she had no intention of neglecting the wonderful old range, Molly had other plans for her spare time.

After all the work was done and the parlour was neat and tidy, Molly discovered that Eddie had a dirty napkin. ‘We’ll have to get you used to the potty,’ she said, changing his nappy and making him laugh when she tickled his belly. Amy had already started with his potty habits, but Molly hadn’t yet had the chance to get herself properly organised. Tomorrow though, she would make it a priority.

Bertha was hungry and wanted elevenses – a jam butty. Molly sat with her at the table while Eddie played on her lap. ‘Do you want to come out with me while I wash the windows?’ she asked Bertha, and the answer was a whoop of joy.

Securing Eddie in his pram, Molly took him outside. Manoeuvring him so she would be able to see him, she put on the brake and went back inside. ‘I want to go out now.’ Bertha was being impatient.