She was thinking hard. She had two hundred pounds under the mattress and one hundred in the Post Office and, all too soon, Arnie Rose would be coming courting in Meakin Street. It was inadvisable to refuse either of the Rose brothers what they wanted. Arnie’s sentimentality could turn easily to violent rage, as if he were a child. She was reasonably safe for a time, while she kept up her pose as a grief-stricken widow under the protection of Sid and Ivy, whom Arnie and Norman’s system of loyalties forbade them to offend. Moreover she had, that afternoon, applied for a place for Josephine at the local grammar school. She would get in, Molly guessed, but more money would be needed to pay for the uniform. She lay there, with a tangle of financial and emotional ideas running round her head. Here was where she had first slept with Johnnie in the days when they had both been more innocent than either of them seemed to be today. Perhaps she should have married Ferenc and obtained some legal right to anything left over when the confusion was sorted out.
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