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days following, were often bare, but today she wore a pair of old boots that might once have belonged to a tramp. In the evenings, if she went out for a beer with her husband, she wore the kind of shoes that round here were called ‘fast’.
    There was a knock on the door and Big Flo walked in. It wasn’t the custom to wait to be asked. ‘It’s only me. By the hangment, what has the wind blown in?’ Arms akimbo she considered Eileen from top to toe. ‘Thee’s come from t’music hall, right?’
    Eileen took this as a joke and chuckled. ‘I once went to the Variety with me pals. Eeh, that were a right good do? We saw Albert Modley. Oh, he was a laugh, he was. Pretended to be driving a tram.’ She stood up to demonstrate, as if operating the driver’s handle. “I’m goin’ to Duplicate,” he says.’ And she bent double with such joyous laughter that soon she had Polly giggling too, and even Big Flo couldn’t hold back a smile.
    ‘So what brought you to Dove Street? Are you married? Have you any childer? Where did you hail from? How do you earn your crust?’ Flo tossed a string of questions at the visitor while Polly brewed fresh tea, mugs were refilled and the women settled themselves for a lengthy chat.
    ‘Sparkle Street,’ Eileen informed her interrogator. ‘So that’s what I try to do. Sparkle.’
    ‘You come from the Dardanelles?’ The scorn in the old woman’s voice was clear. ‘There’s bloody murder done in the Dardanelles every Saturday night.’
    ‘Aye, that’s true,’ Eileen blithely agreed. ‘Which is why we’ve moved up here to this posh neighbourhood.’ This brought a stunned silence. Posh not being a word usually associated with Dove Street.
    Big Flo mildly remarked, ‘Aye, well, happen you were right to come. They’d rob their own mothers in the Dardanelles.’
    ‘That’s because the mothers don’t put their daughters on the stage - they put ‘em on the game,’ said Eileen, giving that by now familiar chuckle. ‘Only I was lucky. I escaped that fate by marrying Terence.’
    In the stunned silence that followed this amazing confession, Polly strove to restrain the laughter that threatened to erupt. Finding her voice at last, she asked, ‘Did you call for any special reason, Flo?’
    ‘Nay, I were just passing.’ The old woman set down her mug with a snap and got briskly to her feet, ready to give the lie to this with her next words. ‘Whatever’s ailing that child o’ yours, thee’d best ‘ave a word with her and sort it out. She looks like she’s lost a shilling and found a tanner.’ And, having shed this worry concerning Lucy, Big Flo departed, surprisingly light on her feet for a woman so big and muscular. At the door, she turned and addressed her parting remarks to Eileen.
    ‘What does yer husband do?’  
    ‘He’s unemployed at present.’
    ‘Well then, you won’t spoil a pair.’ And having delivered this damning indictment of feckless folk who didn’t work, she departed, arms swinging like an all-in wrestler’s.
    ‘Sorry about that,’ Polly said with a wry smile after the door had slammed shut behind her mother-in-law. ‘She’s harmless enough really.’
    Eileen gave a wry smile. ‘I don’t mind. Does this mean we’re going to be friends?’ It struck Polly as an odd thing to say, but she answered as cheerfully.
    ‘I should hope so. Isn’t that the finest thing in the world, to have lots of friends? Call in any time you’ve a mind, and I’ll pop in to see you.’
    ‘I’ll rather come in here, if it’s all right with you? Terence doesn’t care for strangers in his house. He likes to keep himself to himself.’
    ‘But we wouldn’t be strangers, we’d be neighbours.’
    ‘I know.’ Looking troubled for a moment, Eileen shrugged it off with a laugh. ‘It’s with me being in t’family way again. He says I’ve no time for nattering, I work slow enough as it is. And he’s right. But then, I’ve generally childer draped round me