One Step at a Time by Beryl Matthews

after you.’
    It was a comforting thought and made Amy’s eyes mist over.
    ‘Have you got everything you need, Amy?’ Howard had come back after loading things into the van.
    ‘I think so.’ Wandering through each room she checked that she had collected together all the small personal things like brushes, mirrors and little jars from her mother’s dressing table. There were family photographs in a biscuit tin, so she took those as well. She wouldn’t be able to bring herself to look at them now, after what had happened to her father, but perhaps one day she would, when the loss of both parents didn’t hurt so much.
    Closing the front door she put the key in her pocket and turned to walk to the van.
    She stopped in mid-stride as she saw the neighbours had come out to see what was going on.
    It was Mrs Preston who came up to her. ‘Where are you going, Amy?’
    How dare they! All the hurt and fury came to the surface as she faced these callous people. ‘It’s none of your business! And what do you care – what do any of you care?’ She glared at them, shaking with anger. ‘You abandoned us when we needed you the most. My mother died a broken woman and not one of you had the decency to help us or show kindness.’
    ‘We all knew Andy,’ one woman muttered.
    Amy spun to face her. ‘Yes, you all knew him, butyou’ve made him into a saint in your minds. You’ve all forgotten what a nasty, vicious piece of work he was. What my father did was wrong and he’s paid for it, but you had no right to condemn us as well. We did nothing wrong!’
    Howard and Ted were standing either side of her, but they didn’t interfere. There was just a quiet mutter of encouragement from Howard. ‘Atta girl! You tell them, Amy.’
    Her legs were shaking so much that it was hard to walk, but Ted placed a hand under her arm as support. She had never in her life exploded like that but, heavens, she felt a whole lot better. Never again was she going to allow people to put her down. She was as good as anyone else, and better than these narrow-minded people.
    Howard helped her into the van, holding her shaking hands as they drove away. She grimaced. ‘Sorry about that, but it made me so mad when they pretended to be concerned where I was going.’
    ‘It needed to be said.’ Ted nodded. ‘I was proud to stand beside you.’
    ‘Me too.’ Howard squeezed her hand. ‘You shamed them.’
    Amy fell silent, absorbing their comments. Someone was proud of her. It was a new experience for her.
    Ben was waiting for them when they arrived back, and Amy had recovered her composure by the timethey pulled up outside the house – her home from now on.
    ‘You can leave the chest of drawers in the van. That’s going to the shop tomorrow.’ Ted hauled the kitchen chair out and carried it up the steps.
    ‘You go and make us all a nice cup of tea.’ Howard winked at her. ‘And leave us to unload everything for you.’
    Amy made a large pot of tea and then trotted back and forwards from her room to the kitchen, putting everything neatly away. The men drank their tea as they worked. The table and chair fitted perfectly by the window, a clock and a couple of vases went on the mantelpiece, along with the old brown teapot holding her money. She smiled at the scene. It was a lovely room and looked ever more like home now it had some familiar pieces around. Oscar watched the activity with a disapproving air from the comfort of the armchair.
    ‘That looks a treat.’ Mrs Dalton nodded her approval. ‘Have you got any food, my dear?’
    ‘Yes, Mrs Dalton.’ Amy dived into the old pot and pulled out five shillings. ‘I can pay you two weeks rent in advance. Will that be enough? I can manage more because Mr Andrews bought a piece of furniture off me.’
    The landlady waved it away. ‘Pay me at the end of each week, just as everyone else does. I’ll make you out a proper rent book.’
    She put the money back, comforted to know thatshe would be able to