‘Um, did we do anything wrong?’ Bobby asked Reg. She was determined, if paying their salaries was the issue, to offer her resignation in place of Tony’s. God knew she needed to be earning, but if Tony lost his job he might never get another. Worse, he might follow through on a plan to move his family to Liverpool, and take Lilian away from her.
‘Since you mention it,’ Reg said, frowning. ‘Third time you’ve been late since I took you back on. Not like you, lass.’
Bobby flushed. It had been Lilian who had distracted her today, but early-morning vomiting had caused her lateness on previous occasions. She couldn’t tell Reg that, of course, but she was fast running out of excuses.
‘I know, and it’s not good enough,’ she said. ‘I’m still getting into a routine at home and… but you don’t care about that. It won’t happen again.’
‘See it doesn’t.’
‘What about me? What did I do?’ Tony demanded. ‘I’m always at my desk before nine.’
‘Aye, smoking with your feet up.’ Reg looked faintly amused. ‘Have the pair of you got guilty consciences or what?’
Bobby felt another stab of worry. Did he know?
‘Um, how do you mean?’ she asked.
‘I summon you both here and straight off you’re trying to work out what you’ve done wrong. I’ve summat to tell you, that’s all.’
Bobby and Tony exchanged puzzled looks.
‘Well, boss, what is it?’ Tony asked, lighting one of his smelly Egyptian cigarettes.
‘Just this.’ Reg handed Bobby a lumpy envelope. ‘My missus has givenThe Tykeits marching orders at long last. I think those fags of yours were the last straw, Tony. You’re moving out.’
Bobby looked at the envelope. ‘What do you mean, moving out?’
‘Into new premises. There’s a key in there. I’m trusting you to open up, Bobby, so mind you knock this lateness on the head.’
‘Where are we moving to?’ Tony asked. He didn’t look particularly perturbed by the news. Bobby supposed it was all one to Tony where he smoked. But to her, for whom Moorside Farm andThe Tykehad always been inextricably linked, it felt earth-shattering to think of their little team working anywhere else.
Reg coughed as a stream of smoke from Tony’s cigarette hit him in the face. ‘For God’s sake, lad, turn to one side if you must smoke them things. As to where you’re moving to, there’s a shed behind Ginger Parry’s place. You seen it?’
Tony snorted. ‘Ashed?’
‘Aye, well, best I can do at the minute.’
‘We can’t run a magazine from a shed.’
Reg shrugged. ‘Why not? It’s in good nick, and I’ve had the place fettled smart.’
‘Did you say it’s on Captain Parry’s land?’ Bobby asked.
‘Aye, the field behind his cottage. Ginger’s not using it so he said we could have it in exchange for a couple of eggs a week from our hens. Pete Dixon’s coming round to shift the desks this afternoon so you’ll be ready to start there Monday.’
Bobby felt like she was in a dream. A new office! That meant no more cosy chats with Mary during her dinner hour. No more friendly hand snuffles from Reg’s old wolfhounds, Barney and Winnie, as they lay across her feet while she worked. No more would she look up to the welcome sight of Mary’s tea tray appearing round the door…
She frowned as something else Reg had said registered.
‘What do you mean,you’llbe ready to start on Monday?’ she asked. ‘You’re coming too, aren’t you?’
Reg gave a hoarse laugh. ‘Me, sit in an old shed all day with mustard gas on the lungs and shrapnel in one leg? Nay, that’s for young folk. Dick Minchin would have my guts for garters.’
‘You’re going to keep working here? How will we know what you want us to do?’
Reg sighed. He looked suddenly older as he slumped back in his chair.
‘You don’t need me to tell you what to do,’ he said quietly, and the way he met Bobby’s eyes told her these words weren’t intended for Tony. ‘You know the mag as well as I ever did. Happen even better.’
