‘I would never give my daughter away.’

‘I always knew you’d go to the bad. Having a kid outside wedlock, carrying on with jailbirds, getting mixed up with Frank Pargeter, and he’s as ugly as sin, how the hell did you stand it? I know I couldn’t.’

Dora stood up too. Her eyes swept with contempt over her sister.

‘You’ll never have to worry about that, June,’ she said sweetly. ‘Because no man would ever bother with your scrawny arse anyway.’

‘You bitch,’ said June, colouring up.

‘Yeah. Remember that, June. You don’t want to make an enemy out of me.’

June’s face twisted with temper. ‘You’ve always been my enemy, Dora. Right from the fucking cradle. Always grabbing all the attention, the food, the clothes – everything that was worth having, you got it first.’ There were tears in June’s eyes now. ‘And this.’ She grabbed her left leg. ‘Even this is down to you. I got a stunted leg from the rickets, and do you care? No you don’t. I remember sitting at the breakfast table watching Mum give you the best of the grub, the best of everything, while I always had to go without. And now look at me! What man wants a wife with a built-up shoe?’

Dora said nothing. Lil was walking toward them, looking from Dora’s face to June’s.

‘What’s going on then?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ said Dora. ‘June’s just blowing a bloody gasket, same as always.’

‘Telling this bitch some home truths, more like,’ said June, and stormed off, limping.

‘So what now? You going to pile in too? Go on, why don’t you. It’s kick the fuck out of Dora week,’ said Dora acidly.

Lil stood there and looked at her. ‘Where you staying now then, Dor?’ she asked.

‘Safe place over Clacton,’ said Dora. ‘And no, I’m not giving out the address. I wouldn’t trust you or June not to pass it on to some bastard who’d try to kill me. Not any more. I thought blood was supposed to be thicker than water. Turns out I was wrong.’

Lil gave a grim smile. ‘June’s had a lifetime of your shit, Dora. You can’t wonder at her getting steamed up.’

‘She sent Frank’s man after me. And Donny Maguire too.’

‘I nearly did that myself,’ said Lil.

‘What?’

‘Big fella followed me one day. Thinking about it later, I reckon it had to be one of Pargeter’s boys. And then not ten seconds later I bumps into Donny Maguire, who’s very keen to find you. I could have told him your address – I had the letter you sent Mum in my handbag – but you know what? I didn’t. I wanted to. It hasn’t been a picnic, you know, growing up knowing that you were Mum’s favourite. Not for me, and certainly not for June. She’s not much of an oil painting, is she. Hasn’t had so much as a sniff of a man since that loser Joe dumped her. I’m OK, but I know Alec is about my limit. And you, well, you’re a looker. You always have been. It don’t seem fair.’