He knew that if he was ever to give in to his mum’s insistent nudging and find himself a wife, it would be someone like Ruby Caselton – but that was unlikely to happen. Women like her didn’t come around too often. He knew he’d be lucky to find such a person. Until he did find his way in life, he’d be the best friend he could to the woman. She’d not had a good time of late, from what his mum had said, and had been through a lot considering she was a year younger than him. Yes, he’d do his best to make her smile and make her life better. Ruby looked so pretty when she smiled; her eyes lit up, and there was a sparkle about her, he thought to himself.

‘Frank?’

He jumped at his name and saw that Ruby was holding out a damp cloth. ‘Thanks,’ he said as he took the cloth and held it to Eddie’s head. ‘I was miles away for a minute there.’

‘Probably dreaming about your girl,’ Ruby said, as she started to clear up the broken crockery.

‘You could be right,’ he grinned, wishing life were that simple.

‘You’re up bright and early,’ Stella said as Ruby opened the door to her. ‘I was going to leave this on the doorstep and pop a note through the letter box to let you know it was here.’ She held out a teapot that almost matched the one that had been smashed the night before. ‘It’s got a small crack in the lid, but you’re welcome to have it. I have another and it’s no good to anyone sitting in the back of my cupboard. I don’t want it back,’ she said quickly, knowing that Ruby didn’t like charity.

‘Come in and I’ll put it to good use right now,’ Ruby said, as she removed the white apron that all but covered her dress. ‘Everyone’s still in bed so I had a bit of peace and quiet and I got the washing done early before that nosy old bat from next door stuck her oar in and told me off for hanging washing out on the Sabbath. If she lived my life, she’d really have something to complain about,’ she sighed as they went through to the kitchen.

‘You have been busy,’ Stella said, looking out of the back door to where a line of washing was flapping in the warm breeze. ‘How did you manage to do your sheets while the family are still in their beds?’

Ruby chuckled as she put the kettle onto the hob. ‘I wondered how I would do it, but last night while mum and Eddie were down here, I shot upstairs and changed the bed sheets. I didn’t want them holding up my wash day.’ Ruby didn’t add that she was glad she had her decent sheets on the line for Stella to see. The ones on their beds had worn that thin she’d cut them down the middle and stitched the sides together, making them last a little longer. It was a trick her mum had taught her years ago when, as she often said, they didn’t have a pot to piss in. Ruby grew up knowing how to make the best of something, and that included her few possessions as well as what life had thrown at her. It had only been recently, after losing Sarah, that she’d felt weak and nigh on unable to cope. ‘Now, if that miserable old woman next door starts on her moaning again, I’ll not care as in another couple of hours everything will be dry and on the clothes airer waiting for me to give it a good iron. Tell me, why is an old woman living in one of these houses on her own?’ she asked as she sat opposite Stella at the table.

‘Ah, when she moved here it was with her father. Yes, it’s hard to believe someone her age still had a living parent three years ago. He was heavily involved with the local Baptist church and Miss Hunter seems to have carried the baton.’

‘Blimey,’ Ruby laughed. ‘Her life must be full of fun. I take it she never married?’

‘From what I was told by someone who lives further up the road and went to school with her, she had plenty of admirers as a youngster. At some point she went away to live with an elderly aunt as her companion. She came back to the area to help her father, then they moved into number fifteen when the houses were built. I vaguely recall people going into the house for Bible meetings, and there was many a Sunday evening we could hear hymns being sung to the accompaniment of Miss Hunter playing the piano. These days no one visits the house since he passed away, and Miss Hunter instead visits the Baptist church. I would think she’s well into her seventies, so her father must have been close to one hundred years of age when he passed.’

‘They sound a barrel of laughs, but each to their own. Goodness knows what they’d have thought of my Eddie rolling home from the pub at all hours the worse for wear. One disapproving neighbour I can handle. Her father as well would have had me turning to the gin.’

‘Me and my brood were invited to their prayer meetings, but they soon gave up when I told them we’re Roman Catholic.’

‘Are you really?’

‘No, but a little lie never hurt anyone. I did start receiving flowery cards with verses from the Bible etched on them. I posted them back through their letter box. You’d be best to be civil to the woman rather than make an enemy of her. The people that go to that church can be rather pious and may just make your life uncomfortable.’

‘Does she have any friends? It must be awful to get to that age and not be surrounded by people who care.’

Stella shrugged her shoulders. ‘She’s not one

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