‘I will. I promise.’

Queenie smiled. ‘I’d better be going now or I’ll be late. I’m taking madam here for a check-up at the baby clinic. It’s been lovely seeing you again, Eliza.’

‘You too, Queenie.’

Bill Harris hugged Hounslow Harry. They’d met in prison, been cell-mates, and Bill trusted Harry more than his own family. He was in his late fifties, had a bald head and an ex-boxer’s nose, but was as sound as a pound.

‘And what do I owe this pleasure?’ asked Hounslow Harry.

‘Got a little job for you, mate. A geezer I know is gonna be picking up a fair bit of dosh. I will tell you his route and exactly where to pounce. I thought we’d go fifty-fifty.’

Hounslow Harry chuckled. ‘Seventy-thirty and you got yourself a deal. What’s this geezer’s name?’

‘Albie Butler. You won’t have heard of him. He’s a nobody.’

‘All right, Queen? How’s it going?’

Queenie hadn’t seen her old neighbour Bridget since she’d wrongly predicted her last string test. ‘Christ! You got another on the way? Who’s the father?’

‘Don’t ask. Wasn’t planned. But hey ho, ya know me. No way was I gonna get rid. Another little bastard to add to me collection of little bastards,’ chuckled Bridget.

Queenie pursed her lips. ‘Don’t bother with your ring and string test, eh. I bought all blue for this one, thanks to you.’

Bridget peered inside the pram. ‘Oh well, got your first three right, didn’t I? She’s a beauty, ain’t she? Look at her long eyelashes.’

‘She’s a little moo in the night. Keeps us all awake and she’s a finicky eater. I wouldn’t be without her, mind. Albie dotes on her he does.’

‘Ooh, speaking of Albie, what happened with him and Micky One Ear? My mate saw the fight, said Albie all but knocked Micky spark out.’

‘I beg your pardon!’

‘The fight, outside the Horn of Plenty. Albie ain’t singing in the Hoop any more either. I popped in there last Sunday and a bloke called Max was singing.’

Queenie was that taken aback, she couldn’t even reply.

‘Up to your bedroom now, boys. I need to talk to your father,’ Queenie said, as she heard Albie arrive home. She was furious he’d said nothing to her regarding Micky One Ear. As far as she was aware, the sneaky bastard was still singing in the Hoop and Grapes every Sunday.

‘Albie, what’s all this about you having a fight with Micky and now you’re not singing in his pub?’

Put on the spot, Albie began digging a little hole for himself. ‘I didn’t want to tell you, love, ’cause I didn’t want to worry ya.’

‘So you thought you’d pretend you still sung in the pub! If there’s anything I hate, Albie, it’s bloody liars, ya know that. I also don’t bleedin’ well appreciate hearing what my husband’s up to via the gossip-mongers. So what happened then?’

‘Micky’s having an affair with one of the girls who works behind the pump for him. His wife Sheila is such a nice lady, as you well know, Queenie. She don’t deserve that. I see Micky out with his old tart. All over one another in the Horn of Plenty they were. That’s why I clumped him one. I was sticking up for Sheila.’