Molly touched her granddaughter’s cheek. ‘She’s beautiful, Queenie. What a blessing to have a little girl after three boys. What you going to call her?’

‘Well, not Johnny, obviously,’ Queenie hissed, as Vivian also gushed over the child.

‘Whatever’s wrong with you, Mrs Butler?’ snapped the midwife. ‘You have a beautiful healthy daughter. I delivered a still-born last week and the poor mother was devastated. You already have three sons. To add a daughter to your lovely family is a blessing from God.’

Queenie stared at her unexpected blessing. She looked nothing like the boys had at birth. She had little hair and what she did have was the same colour as her own natural shade. A dull brown. Queenie burst into tears. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve had a terrible pregnancy this time round. I’m in shock, that’s all.’

Molly patted her daughter’s arm. ‘We understand.’

‘When can we see our little bruvver, Mum?’ Michael shouted out.

‘Hide that afterbirth and those dirty towels, then send the boys up,’ Queenie ordered. She had no idea where Albie was, but guessed he’d be pleased. He’d always wanted a daughter.

The boys ran excitedly up the stairs. ‘I’m the oldest, so can I hold him first?’ Vinny gabbled.

‘You can hold her first, Vinny. You haven’t got a little brother. You’ve got a little sister,’ Queenie explained.

Vinny turned his nose up. ‘I don’t like girls.’

‘Neither do I,’ Roy chimed in.

Michael was intrigued. ‘Can I hold her first then, Mum? I like girls.’

‘She’s your little sister, boys. You will grow to love her,’ Vivian smiled.

Queenie pursed her lips. ‘Go an’ see if you can find your father.’

Albie had never felt so guilty in his life as he ran towards home. He’d bumped into Mr Sharples who’d informed him Queenie had given birth. What type of man was he? Fornicating with Cilla at probably the exact same time his wife was in labour. If his dear old mum was looking down, she’d be so disappointed in him.

‘All right, Molly? Are Queenie and the baby OK?’ Albie panted.

‘Both are fine, love. Queenie’s a bit tired, mind. Vivvy’s upstairs with her. Go on up and I’ll bring you a cuppa.’

Albie ran up the stairs. He was sick of Viv being at his house all the time banging on about her lover-boy ex-jailbird. That’s why he tended not to come home early any more. ‘I wanna spend some time with Queenie and the baby alone please, Viv.’

Viv handed the child back to Queenie and blanked Albie. ‘Call me if you need me, Queen,’ she said.

‘Let’s have a look at him then,’ Albie urged.

Queenie moved the shawl away from her daughter’s face.

‘He’s bonny, ain’t he? Hair’s lighter than the other three. Can I hold him, love? Well done by the way.’

‘Her, Albie. You can hold her.’

‘Her!’

‘Yes. You have a daughter.’

Tears welled up in Albie’s eyes as he held the child in his arms. He loved the smell of newborns. ‘She’s a beauty, Queen. Look at her. Look at her little nose. I can’t believe we got ourselves a daughter.’