Bobby blinked. The new name sounded strange.
‘So she will,’ she said. ‘I suppose I ought to call her Maimie, as Topsy does. That’s going to take time to adjust to.’
‘What is it you want me to talk to her about, then?’
Bobby hesitated. Her dad’s struggle with shell-shock wasn’t an easy subject to broach.
She thought of the years she and Lilian had been responsible for him, after their mam had become ill. At only fourteen they had been forced to step into their mother’s shoes, caring not only for their two younger brothers but their father, whose mind had never recovered from the horrific things he had seen in the trenches. Bobby remembered all the times they had soothed him after a nightmare with soft words and strong drink. And she remembered that dreadful day two years ago, when, reeling from the loss of his job, her dad had attempted to take his own life. He was a lot better now, but still, Bobby would want his new wife to be aware of everything she needed to be aware of if she was to share a home with Robert Bancroft.
‘I only wondered if she knew that you… slept badly at times,’ Bobby said, trying to phrase her worries in the way he would find least humiliating.
‘Does the poor mare know what she’s let herssen in for, you mean?’ her dad said, with a small smile. ‘Aye, Maim knows. She had a husband in the last lot. Knows how us old soldiers can be.’
This was about as frank as Bobby had ever heard her father when it came to an acknowledgement of his mental state. She wondered if it was Mrs Hobbes – or Maimie, as she ought to get used to calling her – who had encouraged him to open up.
‘I’m glad of that,’ she said, pressing his hand. ‘Have to make sure you’ll be looked after, don’t I?’
‘Me and Maim understand one another. Just a pair o’ lonely old folk with bairns grown, who’ve found we’d rather have each other’s company as not. We’re not sentimental, but I think we’ll make each other happy.’
‘I’m pleased for you, Dad,’ Bobby said softly. ‘Mam would be as well. She wouldn’t want you to be alone.’
‘Aye.’ Her dad turned away as he struggled with emotion. ‘She were always big-hearted, were my Nell.’
‘What was it you wanted to give me? There’s a bit of a party at the house. Tony’s going out to fetch something to drink. I was told by Reg to make sure I returned with one bridegroom ready to have his health thoroughly toasted.’
‘Two things actually.’ Her dad took a fat envelope from his pocket. ‘First is this. There’s one for each of the four of ye, but I’ll keep Jake’s while he’s settled. He’ll only waste it on that bike of his if I give it him now. Happen those of you with families have got more important things to do wi’ it.’
Bobby peeped into the envelope and stared at the contents.
It was filled with money. Five-pound notes, a whole stack of them! Even one would have been unimagined riches.
‘Bloody hell, Dad!’
‘All right, young lady, language.’
‘Sorry. But where on earth did you get this?’ She frowned. ‘You haven’t been messing about with Pete Dixon again, have you?’
‘Nay, nowt like that. Sold our house, di’n’t I?’
‘Gosh.’ Bobby peeped again into the envelope. ‘How much is here?’
‘Little over thirty-five quid each. I got four hundred for the place. After paying my share for our cottage and putting a little into the pot me and Maim are saving for old age, there were a hundred and fifty left to share among you bairns.’
‘Dad, that’s… I don’t know what to say.’ Bobby gave him a hug. ‘You’ve got no idea how much this is going to help. Charlie and I have barely got ten pounds left in our savings.’
‘Aye, it’s come at a good time.’ He fixed her with an earnest look. ‘And now I’m going to tell thee same as I told thy sister, and it’s no reflection on young Charlie so don’t take it that way. I’ve always liked the lad. But if you’ll take my advice, you’ll keep a tenner to buy stuff for t’ babby and squirrel the other twenty-five away for a rainy day.’
She blinked. ‘You mean, not tell Charlie about it?’
‘Up to you but I’d think on if I were you. Women don’t have the temptations us lads do when it comes to unspent money. In fact, I’ll tell thee a story, our Bobby.’
‘A story?’
‘Aye, of me and your mam. When we’d been married nobbut a year, Nell told me she’d been left summat in an old aunt’s will. Ten pound, she told me. Well, that were a heck of a lot in them days. It came in right handy – especially when Nell’s doctor told us we’d be getting two babbies for the price of one. When you and Lil were about two year old and your mam getting ready to have our Ray, I got laid off. I thought it’d be the end o’ t’ world when that happened. The ten pound were long gone by then, o’ course. We’d barely a few bob in savings, and I had no idea how I was going to support three little ’uns till I was back in work. That was when Nell – God bless her, just days from giving birth – pulled up the mattress and presented me with an old tea tin, tied wi’ string.’
‘What was in it?’
‘I’ll tell thee. A little under forty pound. That were a small fortune to a working man in the twenties – nigh on five months’ wages. Turned out, the ten quid were just a little bit of what your mam had been left. She’d put the rest aside in case the family ever fell on hard times.’
