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in trouble,’ Laura said loud enough for her mother to hear. ‘And that man isn’t your uncle, he’s just Mum’s fancy man.’
    Her mother appeared in the doorway. ‘How could you be so nasty?’ she asked, her voice sharp with hurt. ‘Why can’t you be glad for me, and that you’ll all live in a nice warm, comfortable home? He’ll make a much better father to you all than Bill.’
    ‘Will he?’ Laura replied insolently. ‘He doesn’t want any of us, only you. How long will it be before he’s picking on Freddy, telling Ivy off for wetting her knickers, or getting angry with Meggie because she’s timid?’
    ‘He’ll grow to love you all once he’s got to know you. But he’ll be out at work all day so you won’t see much of him except at weekends.’
    In a flash Laura saw that her mother wasn’t entirely convinced about Vincent. She could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She loved his house, she loved what he could do for her, but she didn’t love him.
    ‘I think you’re making a mistake, Mum,’ Laura said. ‘Once we’re in his house, if anything goes wrong and he throws you out, where will you go then?’
    ‘Nothing will go wrong unless you mess it up for us,’ she replied. ‘He’s a good man, Laura. A kind and decent one with a bit of brass too. Don’t go looking for problems.’
    Laura went on into the living room and flopped down on the bed. She remembered only too well how her dad used to moan about the noise his children made, so it was obvious a man who had never had any of his own would have no real idea of what it meant to have four readymade ones suddenly swarming round his house. She thought her mother must be stupid if she hadn’t thought about that.
    Her mother followed her into the front room and stood there silently looking at her for a couple of minutes.
    ‘Can’t you try to like him?’ she said eventually, her voice quivering as if she was going to cry.
    ‘Can’t you just be his mistress and we carry on living here?’ Laura asked, thinking that was the perfect solution. ‘I could babysit on the nights you want to be with him.’
    ‘You silly mare,’ her mother exclaimed. ‘Don’t you understand that I want to get us all out of this rat trap? You’ve got no chance in life living here. I know you get called names at school because of the way we live and it makes me feel really bad. You’re clever, and I want you to go on to university and have all the chances I never had. This is the only way I can see you getting that.’
    Laura was stunned that her mother had actually considered her future, and it made her feel ashamed of herself.
    ‘Okay, Mum, I’ll try my best to like him,’ she said, feeling as though she might burst into tears. ‘I’m sorry about today.’
    ‘That doesn’t matter now,’ her mother said, coming over to the bed and sitting beside her. She put her hand on Laura’s shoulder and squeezed it. ‘I know it isn’t going to be easy adjusting to a new life, especially for me. I’m not a very good housewife, am I? But I’ll have to learn to be because we might never get a chance like this again.’
    It was the Easter holidays before they moved to Barnes, and on the night before they were due to leave, as Laura took yet another bag of old clothes and rubbish out to the dustbins for collection, she was excited and happy.
    They had all visited the new house back in February and it was all her mother had said, and more: a detached thirties house, backing on to the Thames, and the kind of elegant, spacious and sun-filled home that Laura had only ever previously glimpsed in films and glossy magazines. It had all those luxuries like a television, refrigerator, washing machine, fitted carpets and vacuum cleaner that her mother used to reel off when she imagined winning the pools. Nothing was shabby; it had huge comfy settees and armchairs, a dining room with chairs for eight people, and the kitchen had at least twenty cupboards. Laura was