She nodded slightly. Taking their glasses, they made their way up to his bedroom, where Patrick began slowly to undress her, caressing each part of her body as it became exposed to him. The first time he had done this to her, she had felt as if she was going to die from pleasure. That he had a wide experience of lovemaking bothered her not one bit. Kate had never been loved like this before. He made love to her at his leisure, keeping her in a state of anticipation that was both erotic and mind blowing. He brought her to orgasm first with his mouth before he entered her, then made love to her slowly, with long hard strokes, until she felt ready to come again. She had never experienced so much pleasure and happiness from the sex act. It would be very hard to give it up now.

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

1953

George’s arms were tired. He hitched up the parcels further and grasped them tighter to his chest. He stood in the queue, his feet cold and sore. He needed new shoes desperately, these were far too small and they had a large hole in the sole that he covered with cardboard. It was now soggy and uncomfortable. He watched in annoyance as the old lady in front of him made a big performance of counting her change. He felt like dragging her away from the counter and kicking her from the shop. Instead he smiled at her as she moved and placed the parcels gratefully on the counter while the bespectacled woman weighed and stamped them.

Free from his burden, his hand went into his pocket where his wages sat snugly.

He grinned to himself. His first week’s wages. He would treat himself to some new shoes. His final errand of the day done, he began the long walk home. From tomorrow he could take the bus to work. Unless . . . He shook his head to clear the bad thoughts away. He walked the busy streets confidently, like a boy who knew where he was going. Over the years, he had gradually found his way all over London - north, south and east. His mother moved so often he knew just about everywhere. Now they were in Ilford and he knew the place like the back of his hand.

Finally, after an hour’s walking, he came to the house in Green Lanes. He was tired. Bone tired. One good thing about his mother, she always provided a good meal. He walked round the back and let himself into the kitchen, wiping his feet fastidiously on the mat by the back door.

‘You’re late!’ Nancy’s voice was annoyed. George nodded, aware that there was no appetising smell to greet him. He glanced at the cooker in consternation.