Queenie chuckled. ‘Don’t be so cruel. Dolores thinks the world of you.’

‘Not me. My Daniel. Always flirting with him. I might be partly a vegetable, but I ain’t fecking stupid. He’s coming over later. You watch her fluttering her eyelashes at him. Dirty little hussy.’

Queenie’s heart sank. She hadn’t seen Daniel for months and had no wish to. ‘Right, let’s get you glammed up, Mary. No way are you sitting in ’ere today. We’ll go outside and enjoy the street party. Where’s your make-up?’

‘In the top drawer. Take more than a bit of make-up to make me look glam, Queenie.’

‘Now, now. None of that talk. We’re celebrating victory today. It’s all about our heroes and you’re my hero.’

‘Albie coming?’

‘Yes. I told him in no uncertain terms that we’re not celebrating with the riff-raff. He’s wheeling his mum round in a bit.’

‘Great. At least I won’t look out of place sat next to her.’

Queenie burst out laughing. ‘Stop it! Behave your bloody self, ya naughty woman.’

As always, Albie obeyed his wife’s orders with a smile on his face. He certainly hadn’t married a wallflower. Queenie ruled the roost. She was a bloody good wife, mind. Since moving in with him, Queenie had turned their dreary home into a small palace. It was spotlessly clean, with lots of feminine touches, and every night she’d rustle up a decent meal for the whole family. She even washed his mum on a daily basis, so she didn’t stink. Plus she worked in the daytime too. A feisty little grafter was Queenie.

‘What a day to be alive eh, son?’ Ida shouted. It was hard to make herself heard above the jubilant crowds that had filled the streets.

‘Sure is,’ Albie grinned. The war was over, Queenie was four months pregnant. He couldn’t wait to be a dad and his mum couldn’t wait to be a nan. Life was grand.

‘Hello, Queenie. Long time no see. What an atmosphere, eh? Will go on for days the celebrating, I bet,’ grinned Freddie Angel.

‘Look at you, all smart in your uniform. I thought they’d have given you the day off.’

‘Nah. Someone has to be on duty. Bound to be those who can’t hold their beer and get out of hand.’

‘Oh yeah, like my dad.’ She was long past the days when she’d cover up for him out of shame. ‘You picked him up lately, Freddie?’ Her father’s behaviour had gone from bad to worse. He could no longer hold down a job and drank morning, noon and night. Queenie had lost patience with her mum. Her dad paid nothing towards the bills or rent, yet still the silly woman wouldn’t kick him out. The pair of them wouldn’t even have a roof over their head if Queenie wasn’t giving her mother rent money out of Aunt Edna’s cash, and she couldn’t be doing that for much longer as she needed to buy things for her baby.