Blood Line: Sometimes Tragedy Is in Your Blood. Julie Shaw

either. Not taking food off your little ones.’

      ‘It’s fine, honestly,’ she said, looking at her friend’s pinched expression. There was really nothing of her and she needed feeding up. ‘They won’t even notice,’ she reassured her. ‘I’ll just water it down a bit. It’ll be fine.’ Though even as she said it she knew there’d be holy hell to pay if Reggie knew she was offering to give their food away.

      ‘We’ll be okay, Annie, love,’ Alice persisted. ‘My lads send home a bob or two when they can, at least.’

      ‘Yes, but where does that go?’ Annie countered, knowing the answer all too well. It went to Dennis, who probably drank half of it away, just like her own feckless husband did. Men, she thought. They were all the bleeding same.

      There was no answer required to that one, and the two women exchanged wry smiles. ‘It’s okay,’ Alice said. ‘If I get nowt, then I get nowt. We’ll manage. We usually do. And who knows? Maybe one of the lads’ll send something soon. Speaking of which, have you heard from your Charlie lately?’

      Annie pulled a face. That was a bit of a sore point. He’d been so full of promises to send his wages home, full of promises to write, but so far there hadn’t been so much as a peep from him. He’d been gone six months now, doing his military training, no doubt enjoying the luxury of some warm cosy barracks, all the while knowing damn well how hard she’d be struggling without his contributions to the family pot.

      ‘He’s a pillock, Alice,’ she said with a vehemence that shocked her. ‘A bloody pillock! Hasn’t sent us a bean so far, and probably won’t either. Forgotten all about us, no doubt, the little twot.’

      It was that – that sense of having been abandoned by her boy that stung the most. She missed him. Missed him dreadfully. In a way she couldn’t really articulate, much less try to explain to Reggie, who’d have laughed in her face and told her not to be so wet. But Charlie had always been such a support to her; taking charge of his younger siblings, looking out for them in a way Reggie rarely did these days – he was either too busy working down the Punch Bowl or, much more likely, just sitting around drinking there instead. Just a single letter. That would do. Just so she knew he was thinking of them, at least.

      The women arrived and took their place in the queue, the aroma of stew hitting her senses and making Annie lick her lips. She sniffed the air appreciatively. Might there even be meat in it? They hadn’t had meat for a while now and she was craving it – though it would have been even longer if it hadn’t been for Ronnie who, at ten, was shaping up to have his oldest brother’s wits.