‘Erm, I meant to tell you, I visited Aunt Liz yesterday. She’s really not well, can barely breathe. Anyway, Bert and Ivy were there, so I invited ’em all round this afternoon.’

‘You did what!’

‘Queen, have a heart for Christ’s sake. I know you were good to my mum and I’ll never forget your kindness. But, Aunt Liz is seriously ill and she’s never even seen this house. Neither has Bert.’

‘And you want to know why? Bert married the most boring woman on earth and Aunt Liz can’t keep her trap shut. You better warn her not to start telling her stories about you hiding in her loft during the war. Our sons think little enough of you as it is.’

Unusually for Albie, he saw red. ‘I wonder why that is? It wouldn’t be anything to do with you and your sister putting me down constantly, would it?’

‘Oh don’t be so touchy. Me and Viv only have a laugh. You ain’t gonna bleedin’ change now, are you? I’ve given up trying to push you to better yourself. You can only smack your head against a brick wall so many times. Never forget it was me who got you out the shit that time you were mugged, mind. If I hadn’t have stood up to Bill Harris, you’d have had to pay all that money back.’

‘Oh not that again! Whaddya want, a medal? I’m off now and if my family turn up, you and that witch of a sister of yours better be nice to ’em. Since Lenny’s been born, I’ve had to suffer those two being ’ere morning, noon and night. This is as much my house as yours. I pay the bloody rent every week.’

‘No you don’t. You pay towards the bloody rent. If it wasn’t for me and my boys, we’d all be bloody homeless.’

‘Well thanks very much,’ a voice said shrilly. ‘So sorry you’ve had to suffer me and my son.’

Albie swung around in horror. Vivian had her own key and had obviously heard every word. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, lovey. I adore Lenny as much as everyone else does, you know that.’

Queenie shook her head in despair. ‘Just go out Albie, will ya.’

‘We gonna see if Diane wants any help first?’ Roy asked his brother. Every Sunday they would head down Petticoat Lane and earn a few bob. Diane owned the pet stall, sold cats, dogs and even small monkeys. She paid well and was always the lads’ first port of call.

‘Nah. We’re not working today. I ain’t spoiling this jacket. We’re shopping instead,’ Vinny replied.

‘For what?’

‘Drainpipe jeans.’

‘But you’ve never worn jeans. Mum hates ’em.’

‘I ain’t a kid any more, Roy. I’m quite capable of choosing what I wear. I’ve decided, now I’m fourteen I’m leaving school, getting a proper job. Mum shouldn’t have to work for that posh bitch, cleaning. She’s shattered the days she has to graft and then she has to cook dinner and see to Brenda. It ain’t fair.’