‘I dunno, Queen. Lenny’s had a bad cold. I’d prefer to keep him in the warm today. It’s a bit nippy out there.’

Hearing his name mentioned, Lenny skipped into the front room with his beloved toy monkey in his hand. ‘Hello, Auntie Queenie,’ he beamed, planting a big kiss on his aunt’s lips. ‘Give Zippy a kiss too,’ he urged.

‘He looks well enough to me, Viv. Please? I would do the same for you.’

Viv sighed. She wasn’t in the best of moods. Bill had been coming home earlier of a night, but he never wanted to make love to her any more. Viv knew why. Bill was too scared to have any more children with her, in case there was something wrong with them too. ‘OK. Lenny, go and wash yourself and don’t forget your ears – no carrots and onions, boy. Oh, and put the flannel round your dingle-dangle too.’

As bad as her day had been so far, Queenie could not help but smile. ‘Dingle-dangle! I’ve heard it all now, Viv.’

Viv raised her eyebrows. ‘I made it up. I had to. You know how vocal he is. I took him round Mum’s yesterday afternoon and she had the bible-punchers there. Lenny walked in and shouted out, “We’re late because my mum wanted to wash my cock!” I felt ever so embarrassed, Queen. He can wash it his bleedin’ self from now on – and we’ve renamed it his dingle-dangle.’

Queenie chuckled. ‘He’s such a funny little character.’

Vivian pursed her lips. ‘Shame his father doesn’t think so.’

With none of his usual cronies in the Grave Maurice, Albie downed his brandy then wandered along to the Blind Beggar to see if there was anyone in there he could ponce a few drinks off.

‘Hello, Albie. What can I get you?’ asked Big Stan.

‘Erm, I’ll have a pint of bitter and a brandy chaser, if that’s OK, Stan? I won’t be able to buy you a drink back, mind. I’m a bit short on readies until tomorrow.’

‘No worries. Can you get me another rib of beef joint for tomorrow? Handsome, that last one you sold us. Her indoors cooked it slowly and it melted in our mouths.’

Albie’s pal Tom owned a butcher’s shop and it had been Tom’s idea that Albie sell his meat in local pubs. It wasn’t the biggest earner, but along with the fags and booze he flogged, paid a wage at the end of the week. ‘Yeah sure, mate. I’ll be popping in ’ere usual time tomorrow.’ Albie would cart the meat around in a wheelbarrow – a clean one, of course. It was far too heavy to carry.

‘’Ere, don’t look round, but your old mate you fell out with has just walked in. He came in ’ere the other day as well, asking after you.’

‘Shit,’ Albie mumbled. It could only be Micky One Ear as he hadn’t fallen out with any of his other friends. Albie had heard a few months ago that Cilla had left him, then not long afterwards, Micky had left the Hoop and Grapes.