that fascinated her the most; a cocktail of courtings, engagements, marriages, tiffs, trials and domestic tribulations.

Mrs Hayes was the one person in all the world who answered her questions fully. They were answers that Daisy could understand; not wrapped up in long words. Things like who on the factory floor was walking out. Who was suffering heartbreak. Or who had recently had a brother or sister or someone in the family locked away in prison. Or banished to the country for nine months.

‘Forty years I’ve been here, man and girl,’ Mrs Hayes continued. ‘I worked under old Mr Charles before your Uncle Ed took over five years ago. I know every face on the floor, my ducks, and each of those faces has a story to tell. The latest event of note is Elsie Shiner and Joe Rawlings’ engagement party. They threw a right old shindig at Joe’s house. I stopped by for half an hour and enjoyed a stout.’

‘But Elsie’s young and pretty and Joe’s old,’ Daisy protested. ‘They don’t seem to match.’

‘Takes all sorts, my ducks. But yes, you’re right. Joe must be twenty years her senior.’

’Elsie likes that other man.’ Daisy had been watching from the small recess where the tea trolley was stored. Pretty Elsie was certainly not looking at Joe, her intended, but at a handsome young man who worked on the assembly line nearby.

‘Oh, him,’ replied Mrs Hayes with a disapproving frown. ‘Micky Wolf.’

’Micky Wolf looks at Elsie like Matt looks at Amelia.’

‘You mean your brother and his girly friend?’

’Amelia is young and pretty too.’

The older lady smiled knowingly. ‘Don’t all depend on looks, no, not at all. Trouble is, when you’re young you don’t see that.’

‘I’m never getting married,’ Daisy declared firmly. ‘Instead, I’m going to catch a ship. How would I get a ship to stop, do you think, Mrs Hayes?’

Mrs Hayes licked a drip from the tip of her finger. ‘First, you’d need a big cabin trunk for all your clothes. Then something called a passport. And most important of all, your sea legs.’

‘My sea legs?’ Daisy looked down at her feet. ‘Why not the ones I’ve got?’

’Sea legs are different to land ones. No sense in me explaining; you’ll know what sea legs are the minute you find you haven’t got them.’

This complicated mystery remained unsolved as Mrs Hayes lumped a firm hand on Daisy’s shoulder. ‘Now, my ducks, make scarce of yourself while I’m on me rounds.’

‘I’ll go and visit Aunt Betty.’

‘Remember to knock on her office door first.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Gives the person time to put a smile on their face.’

Mrs Hayes disappeared with the clanking trolley and Daisy ran up the stairs towards the covered walkway. It was cold and draughty compared to the stuffy workplace she had just left, so she skipped along the dirty floorboards to keep warm. At the end of the corridor she squeezed through the flimsy partition leading to the offices.

At the door marked ‘Secretary’ she paused and remembering Mrs Hayes’s warning, was about to knock when she saw it was slightly ajar. Quietly she positioned herself for the best view inside the room. Aunt Betty’s tall, slender figure stood at the window. Beside her - very close beside her - stood Mr Calder, whom Daisy knew to be the accounts manager.

‘Betty, you must think of an excuse to get away from him,’ he said urgently.

’It’s not that simple, Neville,’ replied Aunt Betty. ‘I rarely go out in the evenings without Ed.’

’Not even to a friend’s?’

Aunt Betty stroked back a curl of her short dark hair as Mr Calder stepped closer. ’Neville, please don’t - not here.’

Daisy held her breath as Mr Calder did - almost - what Matt had done to Amelia. That thing with their lips nearly meeting.

Daisy gave a little choke of surprise. Aunt Betty quickly stepped back and Mr Calder bent down to the desk.

’I’ll take these papers with me,’ he said in a formal voice. ‘Thank you Mrs Purbright.’

’Of course, Mr Calder,’ replied Aunt Betty. ‘Good morning.’

Daisy scurried away as fast as her feet would take her. Retracing her steps along the walkway she was sure she hadn’t been seen.

When eventually she rejoined Mrs Hayes, she had come to the conclusion that it was very odd to find her aunt and a strange man standing so close to one another. If Mr Calder was not deaf - and surely he was too young to be hard of hearing - then what excuse was there for his behaviour?

After turning this over in her mind, it became clear to Daisy that she did not care for Mr Calder at all and didn’t see how Aunt Betty could like him either!

‘C heer up, ducks, you look as though you’ve lost a pound and found a penny.’ Mrs Hayes steered the rattling trolley towards the canteen at a rate of knots.

‘No, I haven’t found anything. Well, not really.’ Daisy trotted beside the tea lady trying to keep up, listening to the tea-stained mugs clink violently against each other. A quick manoeuvre to the left swerved them down another walkway in the opposite direction to the offices.

‘Either you have - or you haven’t,’ the tea lady objected. ‘Speak now or forever hold your peace.’

Daisy was not certain how - or even if - she should reveal what she had seen. If she was to tell anyone at all, it would be Mrs Hayes or even Bobby, but was there really something to tell?

Perhaps she had imagined Aunt Betty standing close to Mr Calder? Had peering through one eye with the other closed distorted their figures? The more she thought, the more she was uncertain. Yet still the imprint of what she had witnessed remained in her mind. Just like Matt and Amelia’s almost-kiss.

Mrs Hayes launched the trolley into the doors of the canteen, where the scarred and dented flaps flew open. Once safely into the deserted room filled with stout wooden tables and chairs, smelling strongly of the cleaning agent that was used

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