‘A ride?’ Why would they want to do that?’

Fred laughed at her puzzled expression. ‘They’ll cheat you.’

She blushed at her ignorance, feeling helpless to deal with this terrible crisis in her life. It had seemed so easy in the comfort of her bedroom, but now all she wanted to do was to run away and hide. It was all too much. She gathered the tattered shreds of her courage around her and said, ‘Oh.’

‘Hit ’ard times, have you?’

Her eyes clouded and she gulped. ‘Yes.’

‘What’s the trouble, Fred?’ A woman of around the same age came up to them.

‘Hello, Glad. The Preston boys was pestering this young girl. I sent them off with a flea in their ear.’

Jenny was in a strange land, where they were speaking a different language. Did they have fleas in their ears?

‘Good for you. Bloody menace, those kids.’ She opened her shopping bag for Fred to see inside. ‘Got you a nice pair of almond rocks in the market.’

Jenny gaped as she looked from one to the other. What?

‘Oh, you shouldn’t ’ave done that, Glad. We can’t afford luxuries like that.’

‘Luxuries!’ The woman shook her head. ‘Those you’re wearing can’t be darned any more, and you know it. I know they’re rubbing your poor old plates of meat. They must be damned uncomfortable.’

Jenny knew what darning was. You did that to things with holes in, like stockings or socks. She glanced down at Fred’s shoes as realization dawned. Almond rocks – socks. Plates of meat – feet. It rhymed! She giggled, her earlier fear forgotten. She looked back at her companions, so obviously husband and wife.

‘Never heard cockney rhyming slang before?’ Fred’s eyes sparkled.

‘No. Are there many words like that?’

‘Bless you, ducky,’ Glad chuckled, ‘you can ’ave a whole conversation with them.’

Jenny giggled again. ‘Please don’t do that, I’ll never understand a thing you say.’

‘So what you doing down here on your own?’ Glad studied her intently.

‘She’s looking for a pawnbroker. In bad need of some money,’ Fred explained.

‘Ah, then old Uncle Bob’s your best bet – ’e’s reasonably honest.’ Glad frowned at her husband. ‘But she can’t go to him sounding like that. We’d better do the business for her.’

‘Be best. That’s if it’s all right with you, miss. You’ll get a better deal with us there, ’cos we know the crafty old devil.’

‘Umm, is he a relative of yours?’

‘Gawd ’elp us,’ Glad gasped through her laughter. ‘We all call him uncle. When anyone says they’re going to see uncle, we know they’re going to pop something.’

‘Pop?’ Jenny was becoming more confused by the minute.

‘Pawn something,’ Fred explained with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘You come with us and we’ll see you all right.’