‘You look gorgeous, darling,’ added Rosemary.

‘Oh my God! I look so different, but I love it! It really does suit me, doesn’t it?’

‘That was never in doubt. A pretty face like yours could get away with any colour,’ smiled Mary.

Queenie paid Rosemary, then left her house with a massive smile on her face. Not only had Mrs O’Leary taught her about fashion and how to choose things that would suit her, the job she loved so much had taught her a hell of a lot too.

Finding the job in Joseph Cohen’s shop, which sold high-end ladies’ fashion, had been a complete fluke. Queenie had been running an errand for her mum one day when she’d spotted the ‘Assistant Wanted’ card in the window. The shop was situated at the Bethnal Green end of Roman Road. Queenie had bowled inside, remembered Mary’s advice, and sold herself to the owner. She’d started work there the following Monday and had been in her element ever since. It truly was her dream job.

‘The boys are going to pop down to the pub to celebrate my birthday with us later. I hope that’s OK?’ Mary rolled her eyes. ‘They’ll insist on seeing us home, mark my words. They’re not used to me going to pubs, so they get very protective.’

‘Ahh, I think that’s really nice, Mary. Sons should be protective of their mum. Of course it’s OK. The more the merrier,’ Queenie beamed, her stomach doing somersaults.

Mary took her ration book out of her handbag. ‘I need to get some sugar. We’re nearly out of it. You can walk on if you like, show your mum your pretty new look.’

‘Mum won’t like it. When I told her I was thinking of going blonde she nearly had a cardiac,’ chuckled Queenie. ‘I’ll wait for you.’

The queue was long, but when the shop owner spotted Mary getting in line he called out, ‘Mrs O’Leary. You come to the front dear.’ All heads turned as Queenie walked to the front with Mary.

The shop owner put the sugar in Mrs O’Leary’s bag, then refused payment. ‘Give my regards to Patrick and Daniel, Mrs O’Leary. You take care of yourself.’

When Queenie and Mary walked out of the shop, both burst out laughing. ‘Did you see the look on Freda Smart’s face? If looks could kill,’ Queenie chuckled.

‘That’s the third time that’s happened in the past week, Queenie. My boys have certainly made a name for themselves, and I couldn’t be more proud of ’em,’ beamed Mary.

The Albion in Bethnal Green was where Aunt Edna now sang on a Friday night and when Queenie arrived with Mary, the pub was already heaving. ‘What would you like to drink, Mary?’

‘Just a lemonade will be fine. I’m not much of a boozer. My Paddy was enough to turn an alcoholic off the hard stuff,’ laughed Mary.

‘You must have a proper drink. It’s your birthday. I’ll have a proper drink too.’