Edith nodded in agreement but wasn’t fazed in the slightest. Never having had children she was more than ready to take them under her wing. She and her husband had dreamed of having a large family when they had first married but, sadly, he had been killed in an accident down the pit shortly after their first wedding anniversary. Soon after she had gone to work for John Willerby and his wife and that had been the end of her dreams of becoming a mother. Now she leaned towards Sunday and whispered, ‘They both look like they could do with a good bath but what are we going to dress them in? The few things they’ve brought with them are little more than rags.’

Sunday smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. Up in the loft there should still be some trunks full of clothes that belonged to the children who lived here with me and Tom. That’s if John hasn’t thrown them out but I doubt he would have. There’s bound to be something to fit them until John can get them some new things. Once they’ve finished eating, we’ll go up and have a look, if you like, while John shows them round.’

She and Edith set off for the attics and half an hour later came back downstairs laden down with clothes that looked as if they might fit the new arrivals.

‘Just look at this,’ Edith said gleefully as she held up a little tartan kilt with a matching red jumper. ‘Isn’t it just the cutest thing you ever saw? I reckon little Peggy is going to look a treat in this. And there are some long trousers here for Bobby an’ all. Poor little soul must be frozen in those old shorts he’s got on.’

Cook winked at Sunday over Edith’s shoulder. She had an idea that Edith was going to love looking after the children and she had to admit that they had helped to lift the air of gloom that had settled over the house since the war was announced.

‘Right, so all you have to do now is persuade the boyo into the bath,’ she said with an amused twinkle in her eye. ‘An’ all I can say is, rather you than me!’

Chapter Twenty-Three

Going on Sunday’s advice, Edith didn’t even attempt to bath the children until it was close to their bedtime.

‘If you do, you’ll only highlight to them that you think they’re dirty,’ Sunday said wisely and Edith was happy to listen. After all, Sunday had had far more experience of caring for children than she had.

Sunday had kindly come back to help as bedtime approached, guessing that Edith might have trouble on her hands and in a very short time she was proved to be right.