‘If they’re all as smart as that lad, you’ll be in good company,’ Pa said, a glow of pride in his voice.

Kath remained unconvinced. Of course Ray was charming, with that self-assurance all posh boys seemed to pick up at their public schools. But there was something slightly overdone about him, something a little too perfect. She couldn’t help wondering whether it was all a veneer, as though he was hiding something.

Joan graduated from college, and with the help of a reference from Kath’s father she landed a job as an office assistant at the Felixstowe Dock and Railway Company. Kath was jealous at first, but on hearing the paltry salary her friend earned, decided she wasn’t going to waste a year in college after all.

Ma was furious. ‘Joan has prospects now, with her qualifications. What have you got?’

‘About double the weekly pay, if you add the tips,’ Kath said. ‘I can work the shifts I choose, and it’s fun.’

‘You could always study something else, if you don’t fancy being a secretary.’

‘Like childcare? I’ll probably get enough of that once I’m married.’

‘Or beauty?’

‘Really, Ma? I couldn’t care less about make-up and hairstyles. Look at me.’ She wrinkled her nose and ruffled her curls.

‘Or domestic science? You can’t go wrong with a career as a chef.’

‘Why would I need to spend a year at college? I’ve got an excellent chef right here to learn from.’

Not long after this conversation, Maggie lost her job. The school where she had worked for the past eight years had announced it would be closing at the end of term, for good.

It was distressing to see her mother so upset. ‘You’ll find something else soon enough,’ Kath said.

‘But I like it there, seeing the children every day with their eager little faces.’ Maggie wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. ‘And they’re so appreciative of my cooking. There’s a little lad, Eric his name is, I think, and he often comes over specially to tell me how yummy it was. Once he even said I was the best cook he’d ever known. Oh,’ her voice broke once again. ‘I’m really going to miss them.’

Pa put an arm around her shoulder. ‘It’ll work out, love. You never know, what you find next might be even more interesting and satisfying.’

‘I’ll put out the word at the cafe,’ Kath said. ‘They might hear something on the grapevine.’

Sure enough, it was only a week later when one of the chefs emerged from the kitchen and approached the waitress station. ‘Watch out,’ one of the others whispered. ‘Grumpy-guts is on the warpath.’ He was the one they feared most, a gruff, often bad-tempered man of few words, except when shouting at the waitresses. But today his sour face almost managed a smile as he pulled out a scrap of paper and handed it to Kath.