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rife. Evelyn, with her knowledge of another lifestyle, hated it, and looked down her nose at everyone. The only person she felt sorry for was herself. Her misfortunes were not her fault, she decided. They were the fault of Charles for going away to war when he didn’t have to, and of Amelia for being born.
    Once again a knocking on the window had Evelyn shaking her head to clear it of the memories. She pushed her chair back and, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hands, opened the front door to her daughter. There was no smile or greeting for the child, she just turned on her heels and walked back to the chair she’d vacated.
    Amelia’s face was aglow as she followed her mother in, forgetting to close the front door behind her in her excitement. ‘Mother, you’ll be very pleased with me!’ She put the newspaper-wrapped parcel containing the chips on the table, plus a large tin loaf. ‘I walked up the street with Miss Bessie from next door, and she said I was very clever for getting a large loaf for a penny.’
    The slap was delivered so quickly, and with such force, it shocked the young girl who looked bewildered as she let out a cry before putting a hand to her cheek. The cry of pain was loud enough for Bessie Maudsley to hear as she rooted in her bag for her front door key. Bessie was a small, wiry woman, who seemed to do everything at the double. A spinster, she’d lived alone in the house next door since her parents had both died in their fifties. She had a job as a seamstress and worked five and a half days a week. The pay wasn’t much, but there was only herself to worry about and she managed fine. She was fond of her young neighbour who, to her mind, was too old in the head for her years, and wasn’t allowed to enjoy her childhood like the other kids in the street. And if she thought for one minute that Lady bleeding Muck was going to give the girl a thrashing, she’d be in next door like a shot. So she stood with her door key in her hand and listened.
    Unaware that the front door was still open, Evelyn raged at her daughter who couldn’t understand why she’d been smacked for doing what her mother had asked her to do. ‘How dare you discuss our affairs with the neighbours when I have told you so often that you must not have anything to do with them? They are not our kind and I will not let you bring us down to their level.’ Poking a finger in her daughter’s chest, she growled, ‘Now do you understand what I’m saying, or do I have to knock it into you?’
    Over my dead body, Bessie thought, rushing to knock on the open door. But she remembered to be careful what she said in case young Amelia suffered for it. ‘Is everything all right in there?’
    It was then Evelyn noticed the front door was still open, and hissed, ‘You stupid child, you didn’t close the door behind you!’ Then her expression changed from one of anger to one of sweetness and light which didn’t sit well on her face because it was so obviously false.
    ‘Oh, hello, Miss Maudsley! Of course everything is all right. My clumsy daughter here bumped into the table and hurt herself, but it was nothing serious.’
    Bessie stared her out. ‘I’m sorry if she hurt herself ’cos I’m fond of yer daughter. I’ll no doubt see her tomorrow and I can ask her meself how she is.’
    With that veiled warning she turned back to her own front door. She’d be keeping her eyes and ears open in future, for she wouldn’t trust that two-faced villain as far as she could throw her. Apart from thinking she was better than anyone else in the street, she had that sly look about her and obviously wasn’t to be trusted. Now Bessie didn’t care what her neighbour did, she could pretend she was the Queen of England if she wanted, it was no skin off Bessie’s nose. But when it came to a child being ill treated, well, that was a different kettle of fish. She’d not stand by and see any youngster punished when they’d done nothing wrong. She’d