SIT YOURSELF DOWN, NEDRA, love, and get right. I’ll brew up. You keep sugar in here, don’t you?’

‘I’m bad with me heart this afternoon, Linda.’

‘Give over. You’re in better bloody nick than me.’

‘Our Jan was out all night, you know? Left an hour after Kelly went. And neither’s come home.’

‘Don’t worry.’

‘I’ve told Father Culler. About me heart.’

‘Have you? What’dee say?’

‘. . .’

‘Get to doctor’s after weekend. I’ll take you. Ee-ah, love. Fancy a drop of brandy in yours? I’ve a bottle of decent stuff next door; won’t be a tick.’

‘We’ve some in the back of that cupboard there. Don’t you be going to any trouble for me.’

‘Give over.’

‘Time’s it, love?’

‘. . .Ten past two.’

Then the air hit Nedra’s faded housedress – rippling – as the backdoor swung and the kiddies burst in and ran rings around Linda, halting her soiled bare feet as she lifted two slopping brews, the neck of the brandy bottle in her armpit; but Roger and Kevin and Joey took no notice, singing:

‘. . .Rattle me bones, tickle me toes, scratch me belly and let me go. . . Rattle me bones. . .’

And from her thronelike kitchen chair Nedra chased the song as the kids ran out again.

‘Good God, I’ve not heard that one in donkey’s. Our Sefton and Eunice used to sing it at Ashcott when they was little.’

‘What, love?’ Linda was sweaty, garish, half her face made up for nowt – purple lips and eyes, ghoulish powder, a single roller. She was tracking garden soil across the lino. Nedra leaned to stare under the table and it made her notice.

‘It’s them lot. I’ll fetch our Gene in a bit with the mop.’ Linda lashed Nedra’s brew with brandy, then her own; then her own again.

‘Linda? Did you forget you’ve nowt on?’

‘“Nowt on”?’

‘Under that?’

‘Under what? This?’

‘You’ve come over in your nightie again.’

Linda glanced down to check, then cupped her loose breast and cringed and moaned. She pawed her unfinished tutty, drawing and jabbing at her cheeks like she was made of clay and wanted to begin again.

Nedra moved her chair. ‘What is it, love?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’

‘. . .’

‘What a bloody pair we are.’

‘Aye.’

‘Me face feels like a chip pan.’

‘Mine does.’

‘But I know I got dressed today.’

‘You did. I saw you looking nice in your ra-ra dress what you got from C&A.’

‘We have to laugh, us girls, don’t we?’

‘You have to. We’ve got no tears left.’

‘I’m going as loopy as your Carol.’

Her tightening heart. Her backteeth hurt. ‘. . .Well, good job your Gene weren’t in.’

‘God, yeah.’

‘. . .Ay, put that bottle away quick and let’s drink up. It’s alright. It’ll be alright. Ee-ah. There’s a clean tissue.’

‘Ta.’

They reached across the table and held each other at the wrists.

‘There,’ they said. ‘There.’