Viv glared at Queenie. ‘I know he does, boy. Auntie Queenie wasn’t talking about your father. She said she’s gonna make you some jam tarts in the week. They’re you’re favourite, aren’t they?’

‘One of my favourites.’

‘Why don’t you and Brenda go outside and play for a while? It’s such lovely weather, you don’t want to be cooped up in here all day,’ Viv suggested.

When her son and Brenda left the house, Viv snarled at Queenie. ‘I wish you’d watch what you say in front of him. I’ve told you before he’s at an age now where he understands every bloody thing.’

‘All right. Keep your hair on. It ain’t my fault you married a womanizer. I warned you he was a wrong un when you first got with him.’

‘And I warned you Albie weren’t for you, but you still married him, didn’t ya? Pot calling kettle, Queen. At least Bill supports us and I don’t have to go to work like you do.’

‘Cooey. The door was open,’ said Molly Wade.

‘Smile and act normal,’ Queenie hissed.

Viv greeted their mum warmly, so did Queenie. She rarely came around for Sunday dinner and it was nice she’d made the effort for once. Then Roy bowled through the door. ‘Oh, it’s you, Roy. I thought it might be Vinny and his young lady.’

‘Nah. Sorry to disappoint you, Mum. Just me.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that, you daft ha’porth.’ Queenie gave her middle son a hug. ‘How was work? Michael not with you?’

‘Work was fine and Michael’s walking home the bird who works in the chicken-slaughtering factory. She smells horrible, like death, but she’s pretty. She’s fourteen an’ all,’ Roy said, aiming to shock. Ever since he could remember, he’d had a feeling that Vinny was his mum’s favourite. But the past eighteen months or so, ever since Vinny had got kicked out of school and started working in proper jobs, he’d felt like even more of a spare part. He always gave his mum some of his money from his meagre earnings, but she never seemed that grateful any more. Michael was her baby boy, so he could do no wrong, Vinny was most certainly her golden boy, especially now he was bringing home lots of cash, and Roy felt like piggy in the middle.

‘Why is Michael walking the girl home? Is there something wrong with her?’

Roy grinned. ‘Nah. I think he’s hoping to get his leg over with her. By all accounts, she’s shagged half the market.’

Queenie felt annoyed. Roy had to be winding her up surely. ‘Shush. Your nan’s in the kitchen. Don’t you be talking filth in front of her or Vinny’s girlfriend. Go and get washed and changed, smarten yourself up a bit before you meet Yvonne.’

‘Too late. I’ve already met her. Vinny brought her to the pet stall earlier and bought her a kitten.’

‘Ooh, what’s she like?’

Roy was about to answer when the front door opened and Vinny walked in smiling. ‘Mum, meet Yvonne. Yvonne, meet my lovely Mum.’