‘That’s lovely. My mother was certainly a one-off, that’s for sure. Father Michael will never forget her, especially after she called him a pervert that time. One day – not in the near future, for obvious reasons – I will take you to Ireland, show you where Mum grew up. And you can visit her grave. Would you like that?’

I dabbed my eyes with a handkerchief and smiled. ‘Yes. Thank you. That would be absolutely wonderful.’

It was approximately ten days after my visit to Patrick when Vinny thrust a newspaper my way. The headline read: AUNT AND NEPHEW MISSING. POLICE FEAR FOR THEIR SAFETY.

‘This ain’t got nothing to do with you, has it, Mum?’ Vinny whispered.

‘Don’t be so stupid,’ I said calmly. I’d already heard the news on the radio a couple of days beforehand. Marnie and Dave McCartney had been ambushed outside Marnie’s nightclub in Soho by four men wearing balaclavas and dragged into a van the police were unable to trace. Neither had been seen since.

‘Do you reckon they’re dead? I hope they are,’ Vinny said bitterly.

‘No idea, boy. Perhaps they messed with the wrong boy, eh?’

Vinny looked at me quizzically. ‘You sure you never had something to do with this, Mum?’

A promise is a promise and I would never break mine to Patrick. ‘Don’t be so stupid. I’m hardly a gangster’s wife, am I? I married your bleedin’ father. But good riddance to bad rubbish, son. Bloody good riddance.’

Marnie and her nephew were never found and they were never mentioned by either of us again.

Eighteen Months Later

Spring 1961

A baking hot June day, it was Queenie’s idea that she and Viv skip going up the Roman and instead pack a picnic and take the kids over Vicky Park. Brenda was six now, Lenny five and they were more like brother and sister than cousins.

The park was packed and it wasn’t long before Lenny insisted they put his radio on. Vinny had bought it for him recently and along with Zippy the monkey, Lenny took the radio everywhere, even slept with it next to his bed. Music mad, Lenny was. He knew all the words to his favourite songs and loved to dance.

Viv switched the radio on and turned to Queenie. ‘I still can’t believe we can now listen to music outside with no electric. Some brainy people about, ain’t there? You know, these scientists.’

‘I know. Marvellous, ain’t it? We only had The Archers to look forward to once upon a time. I couldn’t do without me TV now, could you?’

Viv shook her head. ‘Imagine how boring our lives would be without Dixon of Dock Green, Opportunity Knocks, Come Dancing and Saturday Night at the London Palladium. Oh, and Coronation Street of course.’

Queenie smiled. Coronation Street was a soap that had started last year and she and Viv were addicted to it. ‘You forgot to mention The Benny Hill Show, This Is Your Life and The Avengers. We got it bloody good these days, Viv. Come on leaps and bounds since the war days, technology. Our kids don’t know how lucky they are. We had nothing growing up, did we?’