I hated sleeping back at home. My nightmares returned. They weren’t about that monster Ivan any more though. They were about the stampede, people getting crushed. I could see Aunt Edna clearly in my dreams, reaching out to me, a look of panic on her face, and me desperately trying to reach her.

I wasn’t the only one having bad dreams. Both Mum and Dad would wake Viv and me up, screaming and shouting. It truly was the house of bloody nightmares. Horrible.

Then finally some good news. The family upstairs were moving out. I urged Mum to tell the landlord we could afford to rent the whole house again, now I was working and Dad had a job in a factory that paid a steady wage. The landlord agreed, providing a deposit was paid up front in case we fell behind with the rent again. I paid the deposit out of Aunt Edna’s money. I was elated to have my old bedroom back. So was Viv.

But, as usual in my world, good news was accompanied by bad. That same day I found out the landlord had agreed, I ran over to Mrs O’Leary to tell her the good news and collect some of Edna’s cash.

Mary opened the door holding her rosary beads, her eyes red. ‘Whatever’s wrong?’ I asked.

Mary led me into what she called her best room. ‘It’s Daniel. He’s only gone and got his new bird, Bridie, in the family way. I warned him to be careful. Now he’s lumbered himself for life. He don’t love her. I know he don’t. He’s been seeing another girl behind poor Bridie’s back.’

My heart sank. I fell backwards onto the sofa. I’d so wanted to marry Daniel, have his children. I was gobsmacked. Dreaming of a future with Daniel was all that had kept me going through the bad times, even though I knew he dated other girls.

Mary squeezed my hand, as always knowing more than I realized. ‘You’ve had a lucky escape, darling, trust me. He’ll not make a good husband.’

A month later, Daniel and Bridie got married. I feigned illness. No way could I watch the man I loved marry another. My future was over. Why was life so bloody cruel to me?

Nine Months Later

New Year’s Eve 1943

‘Oh come on, Queenie. It’s New Year’s Eve, for goodness’ sake. You have to come to the pub with us,’ urged eighteen-year-old Doreen Laine.

‘Doreen’s right, Queenie. Even I’m going and I rarely go to pubs. My dad said he’ll pick me up, so he can drop you off home too. You won’t have to walk all that way,’ added Eliza, the boss’s daughter.

Doreen smirked. ‘There’ll be lots of handsome men there and I can show you the one I’ve got my eye on. Please come. It’ll be fun and you never know, you might meet the man of your dreams. I won’t leave you again if that’s what you’re worried about. I promise.’