No way are we calling him Daniel, I thought, but I didn’t say that out loud. I’d actually spent ages after I’d politely asked my mother and sister to leave, just staring at my wonderful creation, debating what I should call him. Then it came to me. There used to be one customer who shopped in Cohen’s that stood out from all the rest. He was tall, dark, well-dressed and good looking. He spent tons of cash at the shop. Bought the same outfits each time in a small and larger size, which always struck me as odd.

Joseph was adamant he was a villain who had a wife and a mistress. Doreen used to salivate over him, but even though we’d pried, we couldn’t find out anything other than his Christian name. He was a mystery man.

‘You gonna let him sleep in his cot?’ Albie asked as he handed me back my son.

Credit where it’s due. All our neighbours’ babies slept in drawers. I had no idea where Albie had got a brand-new cot from; I very much doubted he’d paid for it, but I was grateful for it anyway. ‘Yes. He’ll sleep in his cot. But you sleep downstairs. I’m sore, tired and I need to feed him now.’

‘OK, love. Just give me a shout if you need anything,’ Albie said, kissing me and our son on the forehead.

I waited until Albie had gone downstairs before tiptoeing out of bed with my boy in my arms. I pulled open the curtains. Albie had an old sheet up over the window when I’d first moved in, but I soon made him get rid of that. ‘See that star, boy, that big star in the sky,’ I said. ‘Well, one day, that star’s gonna be you, Vinny.’

My son clenched his fat hand around my little finger and I beamed with pride. It was a bond only a mother could understand. ‘Vinny Butler, my little superstar in the making.’

Three Years Later

Autumn 1948

‘For as much as it has pleased Almighty God to take out of this world the soul of Ida Florence Butler, we therefore commit her body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, looking for that …’

‘Why they putting Nan in the mud, Mum?’ enquired Vinny in a loud voice.

‘Shush, love,’ Queenie said, pulling her beloved boy closer to her side.

‘But won’t Nan get eaten by worms?’ Vinny asked in an even louder voice, interrupting the committal once more.

When Roy, his youngest son, started crying, Albie glared at Queenie and gestured to her to take the boys away from the graveside. The little swines had played up throughout the actual funeral service too. It had been Queenie’s idea to bring them here. Albie had insisted the boys were too young and would be better left with a neighbour, but as usual his advice had fallen on deaf ears.

‘Nanny always stink of poo-poo,’ Vinny announced, as he was led away.