‘Mrs Egerton-Smythe lent it to me,’ said Ralph quickly.
‘Well, you can take it back.’
‘I will be, Dad.’
‘I ’ain’t havin’ you being a parasite to other people.’
‘She lent it to me, Dad, because it was raining.’
‘Well, do without until you can buy your own.’
‘How can I if I have to hand over all my money?’
‘You can wear your grammar school raincoat,’ he said sarcastically.
‘I’ve grown out of it.’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘So have they put anyone in Ralph’s place?’ insisted Harry.
Ralph had to smile. Persistence was his brother’s middle name.
‘Will you leave me be. A man’s entitled to eat his meal in peace.’
There was another silence.
‘John,’ began his mother tentatively, ‘ain’t you going to ask Ralphie about his new job?’
‘Job?’ he exploded. ‘Job! Go on then, surprise me.’
Ralph knew his mother wanted to help, but he’d much rather talk to her about Queenie and the shed and the room with the dust covers, later.
His father sat back in his chair and gloated. ‘He can’t think of anything.’
‘Ralphie, why won’t you tell your dad?’ asked his mother, coaxing him.
‘Because anything I say, he’ll find fault with.’
‘You won’t, will you, John?’
But his father remained silent.
‘Is my blue cardigan nearly dry?’ whined Joan.
‘I’ll shove it in the oven for a bit,’ said Ralph’s mother. ‘That’ll do it.’
‘I expect it will,’ she said sadly, and she sighed. ‘If only we had radiators.’
‘Like Kay,’ chorused Elsie and Harry and burst into fits of giggles.
‘That’s not funny,’ she protested.
‘I s’pose you’ll be wanting to borrow my umbrella,’ said Auntie Win.
‘Can I?’
‘As long as you don’t leave it at the pictures. Who’s going with you?’ she added suspiciously.
‘Dolly.’
‘No hanging around outside,’ said Ralph’s mother.
‘What do you take me for!’ she exclaimed.
‘I know Dolly,’ said Ralph’s mother.
‘She likes anything in trousers,’ said Auntie Win.
‘Not everyone likes being a spinster,’ said Joan crossly.
‘Joan!’ exclaimed Ralph’s mother. ‘Don’t speak to your aunt like that.’
‘You’re all men haters! You just want me to end up in a monastery.’
‘A nunnery,’ said Ralph.
‘Oh shut up, toffee nose.’
‘You’re only seventeen,’ said Ralph’s mother.
‘Like Kay,’ chorused Harry and Elsie.
‘Leave off,’ said Ralph’s father. ‘Have a bit of respect for your cousin.’
Joan turned to her uncle and blushed.
‘Ellen, don’t you think you’re being a bit tough on her?’
‘No,’ said Ralph’s mother firmly. ‘Now, you promise you’ll come straight home, or I won’t finish drying off this cardigan.’
‘I promise,’ said Joan sulkily.
Suddenly Ralph’s father pushed back his chair. ‘I’m off, then,’ he announced.
‘But, John,’ said Ralph’s mother.
‘I’m meeting Ted.’
‘Oh,’ said his mother, looking disappointed.
‘I need a drink, especially after today.’
Harry placed his hand on his father’s arm. ‘Dad, don’t forget to ask about me apprenticeship tomorrow.’
‘Don’t give me orders. I’m asking no one nothin’.’
And with that he pushed his way violently past the chairs and walked out into the scullery.
‘Don’t get downhearted, Harry,’ said Elsie in a motherly way. ‘It’ll take him a bit of time.’
Ralph caught his mother’s eye, and they smiled with amusement. ‘I better go and get ready,’ said Joan leaving the table.
Once the two had left, the atmosphere in the room was visibly lighter. Ralph’s mother placed a large teapot on the table and sat down. ‘Now, Ralphie,’ she said eagerly, ‘tell us. What was it like?’
The door flew open again. It was Joan. ‘Don’t forget it’s the blue cardigan,’ she said, and slammed the door behind her.
His mother stood on a chair and pulled the blue cardigan down.
‘I don’t know why she’s so fussy about what colour she wears,’ said Auntie Win. ‘Who’s going to see it in the pictures?’
‘We’ll wait till she’s gone, love,’ said his mother. ‘Then we can have a proper talk.’
‘Can we have the wireless on?’ said Harry.
‘Why not?’ said Ralph’s mother.
‘Now where’s my cup of tea?’ said Auntie Win.
Ralph climbed into the smelly overalls and peered out of the window. It was now clean enough for him to make out the river more clearly. It had stopped raining and there was a field of lawn to cut. He dragged the motor mower out through the door and attempted to get it to go but the motor still wasn’t responding. With a heavy heart he knew he would have to tell Mrs Egerton-Smythe that he had failed to get it working. He went back to the kitchen entrance and knocked on the door.
Queenie was washing up at the sink. She scowled when she saw him and took her time drying her hands. ‘What you want?’ she snorted.
‘I need to talk to Mrs Egerton-Smythe.’
‘I’ll get her. Stay there,’ she ordered, glancing at his overalls with disdain.
Ralph gazed back towards the mass of swaying grass. It was windy and leaves were being flung into the green undergrowth.
‘Good God!’
Ralph turned, startled. It was Mrs Egerton-Smythe at the doorstep. He opened his mouth to speak.
‘You smell like a rotting cabbage dump! Where the hell did you find those!’ she exclaimed, waving at the overalls.
‘In the shed. I didn’t think you’d mind,’ he began.
‘My God, there’s mould on them!’
Ralph