A Daughter's Disgrace by Kitty Neale

having a family of her own. It wasn’t that she objected to women working – she just didn’t want the girl to miss out. Office jobs were all very well but she couldn’t see how that would match the satisfaction of keeping a house, even a small one, and raising children.
    Sighing, she thought of her youngest. Richie at fourteen was rock-and-roll mad. He drove them all crazy by playing his records at top volume, which meant they could be heard in every room and probably through the neighbouring walls too. There would be trouble with that one day. And the music was terrible, not what she thought of as music at all. She could only hope he’d grow out of it soon.
    Well, she wasn’t going to let that spoil her plans. Gathering her pieces of paper together she decided the next thing would be to go through her lists with Hazel, Neville and Cora. Then she would really get to work. This was going to be an unforgettable day.
    â€˜Kenny, you are going to lose your money, mate.’ Paul grinned wolfishly at his friend as they stood at the bar early that evening waiting to be served. They didn’t usually come to the pub on a Monday but Paul had had enough of the filthy flat. After a weekend of heavy losses his father was in a worse state than ever and was liable to fly into a violent rage at the least thing. Paul intended to put off going home for several hours by which time the old bugger would be asleep or in a drunken stupor – he didn’t care which.
    â€˜You sound pretty sure of yourself.’ Kenny was convinced Paul was all mouth and no trousers when it came down to it. He’d been friends with him since they were at school and had never known him to have a proper girlfriend. It wasn’t for lack of trying but there was something about Paul when you got to know him that seemed to put the girls off. Maybe it was down to his mum dying when she had. He didn’t seem to know what to do with a girl beyond flirting – which, Kenny had to admit, he was quite good at. ‘So how is the ugly bird, then?’
    â€˜She’s like putty in my hands,’ Paul said, signalling to the barman for two pints. ‘I don’t even have to try. She’s after me all the time. If I could only get rid of my boss for a bit I could have her against the storeroom door.’ He paused at the thought. That would be perfect – it would be dark enough not to have to look at her face and then every time he was sent to the storeroom he could remember what he’d done. He almost spilt the drinks at the idea.
    â€˜You filthy sod.’ Kenny raised his glass. ‘To you getting the sack. Because you will. You said yourself that your boss never lets you alone for a minute, and a minute wouldn’t be long enough even for you, mate.’
    â€˜Shut up,’ said Paul easily. ‘I’ll think of something. She ain’t worth losing a job over. I’m not prepared to go short of cash for her. But I won’t have to. She’ll follow me wherever I ask her. So maybe the storeroom will have to wait.’
    â€˜And who said romance was dead,’ Kenny sniggered. He didn’t want Paul to lose his job – that would put the kibosh on their nights down the pub, which were more important than any stupid girl. ‘I’ll want a full report, mind. You seen what’s under her coat yet?’
    â€˜Mind your own business.’ Paul had been certain he could have got beneath her horrible mac earlier in the day if his boss hadn’t called him. She’d been trembling in front of him. What a pushover.
    â€˜That’s a no, then,’ said Kenny triumphantly. ‘Never mind, spring is round the corner. Be able to get a good look then, won’t you? All those lovely girls taking off their winter gear and going round in tight jumpers. Maybe the ugly bird will be one of those. Reckon she’ll wear one of those low V-necks? You can see everything