He liked his job in the docks. Thursday was still card night at Rob’s, week-ends gardening and football, and we managed on his wages (only just). Never over-ambitious, he was always more intent on conscientiously carrying out the job on hand. No war now, the years, for him, stretched away peacefully in the foreseeable future. Family crises were usually solved by the time he arrived back on the scene. On the other hand I was restless. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I wanted. I told myself I was happy caring for my children, indeed I wouldn’t let anyone else look after them, and was always ill at ease when they were away from me. Mother suggested I take a night off now and then and visit the cinema, but I couldn’t concentrate on the film. Suppose they woke up and I wasn’t there. So that when events occurred which could have been tragedies, but which were by a miracle averted, I couldn’t relax, and although my ‘Thank God’ was fervent, I couldn’t forget and would go over and over the occurrence in my mind.
