door. Oh, yes, Bob. Talking of menaces, I suppose Sue told you what Robby did to Oliver's rabbit?’
‘Yes, she did, and I've given the boy a thrashing.’ ‘I'm glad to hear it, but as I've said before, Robby's getting out of hand.’
‘Look, I know he's a little sod, but he's had a good hiding. If that doesn't do the trick, I'll come down even harder.’
‘It'll need both of you to sort the boy out, but
she
lets him get away with murder.’
‘Yeah, I know Sue can be a bit soft. I'll have a word – tell her that Robby needs a firmer hand.’
‘Good, I'm glad to hear it,’ Norma said, at last looking mollified.
‘Norma, can I have a drink, please?’ Maurice managed to gasp.
‘Yes, all right.’
‘Make one for Bob too,’ Maurice wheezed, hoping that Bob wouldn't turn it down. He wanted him to stay for a while – wanted him there in case George turned up.
Joan looked up from her task as Petula and Linda almost fell into her living room.
‘What's going on?’ she snapped.
‘It's George. He's gone mad. We ran to Maurice first, but he got upset so Norma told us to come here.’
‘Gone mad! What are you talking about?’
‘Linda's parents have given them a pram, but George is wrecking it.’
‘Is he? Why's he doing that?’
‘I don't know, Mum.’
Linda's face was wan, her body shaking. Joan asked sharply, ‘Did my son hit you?’
‘No … not this time.’
‘Does that mean he's hit you in the past?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, tears spurting and running down her cheeks.
Joan was ashamed of her son, sickened. Linda was pregnant and if George wasn't stopped she could lose the baby. It could be some time before Dan returned from the races, but she had to get Linda out of sight in case George came looking for her.
‘It might be best if you stay out of the way for a while. You look exhausted, so why don't you go up to my room, have a lie-down? And don't worry, Dan will sort George out when he comes home.’
Linda's eyes flicked nervously to the window. ‘Yes, all right,’ she agreed.
Joan waited until she was out of sight before turning to Petula. ‘Run next door, see if Danny's home, and if he is, tell him I want to see him. Just make sure that you stay out of George's way.’
Petula nodded, and as the girl ran outside, Joan hoped her eldest son was there. If George hadn't calmed down when he came looking for Linda, she doubted she'd be able to handle him.
Petula's mind was racing. George's behaviour had shocked her. She knew he had a temper, but had never actually witnessed his violence. When George lived at home his anger had been verbal, soon snuffed out by her father. Now, though, she was seeing another side of him, and it was one she feared. Was this how other people saw him?Was this how he behaved outside of the alley? If so it could be another reason why they were shunned.
As a child Pet could remember the police turning up at the house, but her father and brothers had always explained it away by telling her that they had made a mistake. None of the family had ever been arrested, so she believed them, at least whilst she was at junior school. Doubts set in when she went to secondary school where some girls avoided her, making their reasons clear. When she'd asked questions, Maurice had been the only one who'd been a little more forthcoming, telling her that all the gossip concerned shady deals in the past. Nowadays, he had said, the family ran a respectable business and she had nothing to worry about.
Yet stories still reached her ears – whispers of her family being involved in fights and intimidation. She loved her father, her brothers, and didn't want to believe the gossip, but friendships had been hard to form. Over time there were three girls she considered friends, yet even so she was always the odd one out – the one who didn't enjoy the same freedom as them.
Yvonne's door was unlocked, like the others in the alley, but Pet rapped the letter box before going inside.
‘Yes, she did, and I've given the boy a thrashing.’ ‘I'm glad to hear it, but as I've said before, Robby's getting out of hand.’
‘Look, I know he's a little sod, but he's had a good hiding. If that doesn't do the trick, I'll come down even harder.’
‘It'll need both of you to sort the boy out, but
she
lets him get away with murder.’
‘Yeah, I know Sue can be a bit soft. I'll have a word – tell her that Robby needs a firmer hand.’
‘Good, I'm glad to hear it,’ Norma said, at last looking mollified.
‘Norma, can I have a drink, please?’ Maurice managed to gasp.
‘Yes, all right.’
‘Make one for Bob too,’ Maurice wheezed, hoping that Bob wouldn't turn it down. He wanted him to stay for a while – wanted him there in case George turned up.
Joan looked up from her task as Petula and Linda almost fell into her living room.
‘What's going on?’ she snapped.
‘It's George. He's gone mad. We ran to Maurice first, but he got upset so Norma told us to come here.’
‘Gone mad! What are you talking about?’
‘Linda's parents have given them a pram, but George is wrecking it.’
‘Is he? Why's he doing that?’
‘I don't know, Mum.’
Linda's face was wan, her body shaking. Joan asked sharply, ‘Did my son hit you?’
‘No … not this time.’
‘Does that mean he's hit you in the past?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, tears spurting and running down her cheeks.
Joan was ashamed of her son, sickened. Linda was pregnant and if George wasn't stopped she could lose the baby. It could be some time before Dan returned from the races, but she had to get Linda out of sight in case George came looking for her.
‘It might be best if you stay out of the way for a while. You look exhausted, so why don't you go up to my room, have a lie-down? And don't worry, Dan will sort George out when he comes home.’
Linda's eyes flicked nervously to the window. ‘Yes, all right,’ she agreed.
Joan waited until she was out of sight before turning to Petula. ‘Run next door, see if Danny's home, and if he is, tell him I want to see him. Just make sure that you stay out of George's way.’
Petula nodded, and as the girl ran outside, Joan hoped her eldest son was there. If George hadn't calmed down when he came looking for Linda, she doubted she'd be able to handle him.
Petula's mind was racing. George's behaviour had shocked her. She knew he had a temper, but had never actually witnessed his violence. When George lived at home his anger had been verbal, soon snuffed out by her father. Now, though, she was seeing another side of him, and it was one she feared. Was this how other people saw him?Was this how he behaved outside of the alley? If so it could be another reason why they were shunned.
As a child Pet could remember the police turning up at the house, but her father and brothers had always explained it away by telling her that they had made a mistake. None of the family had ever been arrested, so she believed them, at least whilst she was at junior school. Doubts set in when she went to secondary school where some girls avoided her, making their reasons clear. When she'd asked questions, Maurice had been the only one who'd been a little more forthcoming, telling her that all the gossip concerned shady deals in the past. Nowadays, he had said, the family ran a respectable business and she had nothing to worry about.
Yet stories still reached her ears – whispers of her family being involved in fights and intimidation. She loved her father, her brothers, and didn't want to believe the gossip, but friendships had been hard to form. Over time there were three girls she considered friends, yet even so she was always the odd one out – the one who didn't enjoy the same freedom as them.
Yvonne's door was unlocked, like the others in the alley, but Pet rapped the letter box before going inside.
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