Albie rolled off Cilla Watkins, lit up two Salem cigarettes and handed one to his lover. He always felt guilty afterwards, but never beforehand. Queenie had banished him from her bed for the past four months and what with his luck being poxed financially, Cilla had become a welcome distraction in his mundane life.

Cilla didn’t feel any guilt whatsoever even though she knew Queenie was about to drop. She knew Albie didn’t sleep with his wife any more, therefore Queenie only had herself to blame that he’d strayed, was Cilla’s take on the matter. ‘Fancy a cup of Rosy?’

‘I wouldn’t mind a tot of brandy, then I’d better make tracks, love. Gotta earn some money today. You around tomorrow evening, darlin’?’

‘No. I’m out with the girls. Pop round Monday or Tuesday. I was gonna ask you, Albie. I could do with an extra few bar shifts. Do you reckon your mate Micky might need an extra pair of hands?’ Having split up with her old man, Cilla was struggling to pay her rent.

‘Leave it with me and I’ll ask him, treacle,’ Albie smiled as Cilla’s pert buttocks walked away from him. After being sex-starved for years, he couldn’t get enough of her.

Vinny, Roy and Michael were sitting at the bottom of the stairs, all in a state of eager anticipation to meet their new brother.

‘I wonder what he’ll be called?’ Michael pondered.

‘Johnny. I overhead Mum telling Auntie Viv. But don’t say nothing ’cause I was earwigging,’ Vinny grinned. He found out so much juicy gossip by listening in on his mum’s conversations, especially about the neighbours.

‘Johnny Butler. I like that,’ Roy replied, as his mum screamed out in pain again. His nan and Auntie Viv were upstairs with her as well as the midwife, and he and his brothers had done their bit by taking clean towels, hot water, soap and even cups of tea upstairs.

After what seemed like an eternity to the boys, there was the shrill sound of a baby’s cry.

‘Yes!’ Roy punched the air in delight.

‘Can we see him now?’ Michael leapt up and down, clapping his hands.

‘No. Not until Mum says so,’ Vinny replied, as protective as ever.

‘I beg your pardon!’ Queenie said. The midwife wasn’t her usual one. Sister Cleary was a nun as well as a midwife.

‘I said, you got yourself a beautiful bonny daughter, Mrs Butler,’ explained Sister Cleary in her chirpy Irish accent.

‘There must be some mistake. Have another look, ya know, down below,’ Queenie ordered.

Molly and Viv glanced at one another. Because of Queenie’s belief in the string test, both had knitted and bought everything in blue.

‘Oh, there is no mistake, Mrs Butler. For sure you have a daughter. Here you are. You can take a look for yourself,’ Sister Cleary smiled, handing Queenie her baby wrapped in a towel.

Queenie stared at her baby’s genitals and could barely believe her eyes. She was furious with that lush Bridget. The boys had been so looking forward to having another brother. Plus, she’d told all the neighbours and everyone round the shops she was having another boy. Talk about make herself look a prat.