Queenie grabbed Viv’s hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go meet them.’

The previous tenant of the house had been Nutty Nora. She’d died in hospital recently and wouldn’t be sorely missed. She used to wake half the street up by dancing and singing in the middle of the night. Many a time, Queenie’s dad had got up and led the senile old woman back inside her house, only for her to reappear in the street ten minutes later.

Queenie approached the woman who was standing on the doorstep. The two lads had disappeared. ‘Hello. We live opposite you at number thirty-one. My mum sent us over to ask if you’d like a cup of tea?’

The woman was of medium build, smartly dressed and had beautiful thick wavy black hair that shone in the sunlight. She smiled. A kind smile that lit up the whole of her face. ‘Patrick, Daniel,’ she shouted in an Irish accent.

The two lads reappeared, and Queenie felt herself blush. The younger one was even more handsome up close. He had piercing bright green eyes, full lips and a cheeky grin.

‘These lovely young ladies live over the road and have asked would we like a cup of tea.’

‘Does the Pope pray?’ the older lad chuckled.

Not knowing what that meant, Queenie and Viv glanced at one another.

The woman held out her right hand. ‘I’m Mary. Mary O’Leary, and these two ragamuffins are my sons, Patrick and Daniel. We would absolutely love a cup of tea,’ Mary smiled. ‘And please do thank your mum.’

‘OK. We’ll be back soon,’ said Queenie.

Daniel gently grabbed Queenie’s arm. ‘Not until you tell us your names, you won’t. My mum’s always told me and my brother we aren’t to accept things off strangers.’

Realizing her sister was unusually lost for words, Viv stepped in. ‘I’m Vivian and this is my sister, Queenie.’

Daniel winked. ‘A pleasure to meet you both. Three sugars each for me and Patrick and two for Mum. Oh and don’t forget the biscuits.’

Mary chuckled and playfully punched her youngest on the arm. ‘You take no notice of this one, girls. He’s a terrible wind-up merchant. I’ve got sugar and biscuits.’

When Daniel grinned at her, Queenie felt her insides flutter, a feeling she’d never experienced before.

Viv linked arms with her sister and led her back to their house. ‘Why did ya act all weird?’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Yes, you did. You stood there like a stuffed dummy.’

‘You’re talking rubbish.’

Vivian might only be nine, but she was astute for her age. ‘Queenie and Daniel sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,’ giggled Viv.

‘Shut your big mouth, else Mum will hear ya,’ ordered Queenie.

‘Are they nice people? Would they like tea?’ asked Molly.

‘They’re very nice, Mum,’ Viv replied. ‘Oh, and Queenie fancies Daniel.’

‘No. I don’t,’ Queenie glared at her sister, face turning a shade of beetroot. ‘I’m going to lie down; I got a headache. You can take the tea over by yourself.’