‘What you looking at?’ Roy asked his brother.

‘That Austin Healey sports car. It’s ace! Look at it. The same car was parked outside the other day. Let’s hang around a bit, see who owns it. I wanna know what business they’re opening. We might be able to get a better job.’

‘Vin, I’m starvin’. Can’t we come back ’ere after dinner? Mum always has dinner ready for us at this time,’ Roy said, glancing at the watch his mum had bought him for his birthday.

‘You go on. Tell Mum I had to work later than you. I won’t be long.’

The building in question had been dilapidated up until recently. The windows were blacked out, but Vinny spotted a tiny gap and peered inside. It was too dark to see properly, but he could make out an assortment of large objects.

Unbeknown to Vinny, he’d been spotted. The door of the property opened and a man stepped outside. ‘All right, sonny. What you up to?’

Vinny was rather taken aback by the striking-looking bloke. He had jet black hair with a small quiff and green eyes as bright as his own. He had on drainpipe dark jeans, a white shirt, black winkle-picker shoes and a thin black tie. He looked like the singer Elvis Presley. ‘Erm, all right. This gaff yours, is it? I weren’t sizing it up to break into or nothing. I was just trying to work out what it was gonna be; only I’m after a job.’

Thinking what a good-looking lad Vinny was, the man smiled, showing a set of perfectly straight teeth. ‘How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?’

Already five foot eight, Vinny towered over all the lads in his class. He knew he looked older and acted more mature than others his age. ‘I’ll be sixteen tomorrow,’ he lied. ‘So what business is it gonna be?’

‘A launderette.’

Vinny couldn’t help but feel disappointed. No way was he working in a launderette.

The man held out his right hand. ‘Me name’s Dave, but everyone calls me Macca. And you are …?’

‘Vinny.’

Macca smiled. A strong handshake, cheeky charm, good looks. Young Vinny had it all. ‘Why don’t you come in, have a beer for your birthday? I’ll let you into a secret an’ all. This ain’t my business. I manage a club.’

Vinny grinned. ‘Yeah. OK.’

Queenie opened the oven door once again. Patience had never been a virtue of hers. ‘How long did Vinny say he was going to be, Roy?’ she shouted.

‘He didn’t say, Mum.’

‘Oh well. Dinner’s gonna be dried up unless we eat it now. Vinny can eat his cold, same as your father. Everyone want beans?’

‘Yes, please,’ clapped Brenda. Baked beans were her favourite food.

‘Don’t give Lenny any beans. His arse is still on fire, Queen,’ warned Vivian.

The corned beef hash went down a treat with all, apart from Brenda. She was still a finicky eater, a skinny little thing, and Queenie was always trying to feed her up.