‘Come on.’ He was smiling as he poured out the drinks. ‘Have a sip of this. You had a nasty surprise and it’s upset you. This’ll make you feel better.’

6

They went to the little prefab several times after that. More pictures rolled by. First The Dam Busters, then Rex Harrison in The Constant Husband, then Rebel without a Cause, and To Catch a Thief, and Dora fell a little more in love with Dickie every time.

After To Catch a Thief, when Dora sailed out of the picture house imagining herself as Grace Kelly, and casting Dickie in the suave role of Cary Grant, they went to the prefab and Dickie started kissing her, which was wonderful, and then he began unbuttoning her blouse.

‘Dickie . . .’ she said, just like she’d said half a dozen times before. She wasn’t that sort of girl. He must know that by now.

‘What? We’re going steady, ain’t we?’ he said, looking hurt.

‘Yes, but . . .’

‘Then let me. Just a little bit. You’ll like it.’

Dora stood there and let him undo the blouse. She’d seen other girls eyeing him up, he was a very handsome man, and if she didn’t do this then for certain some of them would. And they were going steady, after all.

His fingers stroked down over her collarbone and delved into the valley between her breasts. Her skin tingled where his hand touched her. Then he moved in closer, his hands delving deeper, going around her back underneath her clothes, unclipping her bra. Dora felt the clasp pop open. Then he drew back, pushed the thin fabric aside, and stared at what he’d revealed.

‘Beautiful, beautiful Dora,’ he murmured, and she could feel her nipples staring right back at him, puckering and rising like pert little brown buds on their pillowy cushions of satiny white skin. Deep in the pit of her belly, she felt something catch fire. ‘There, ain’t that nice?’

It was nice. It was heaven. And when he touched her, caressed her, rubbed his palms over her naked tits that way, she just melted.

Then he pulled back, away from her.

‘No, this ain’t fair,’ he said, pulling the fabric closed to cover her modesty. He was shaking his head. ‘You’re a nice girl, Dora. But we’re practically engaged and I thought . . .’

Engaged?

Suddenly Dora felt euphoric. He wanted to marry her! She took his hands and drew him back to her. ‘It’s all right, Dickie. I love it. I want you to touch me.’

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Come on, get yourself decent. I’m taking you home.’

Dora felt like she’d developed a fever after that. The weeks passed slowly. Christmas came and went, things at home stayed much the same, although Lil – the respectable married matron now – was due to drop a sprog come the autumn.

‘I hear ’em at it all the time so I’m not surprised,’ said June, sour with envy. Her and Joe had long since split up. ‘Never would have suspected that our Lil liked the old pork sword as much as she does.’