‘I’m just puttin’ the kettle on.’ ‘You needn’t make a cup for me,’ Christina called back, negotiating a lawn-mower that for some inexplicable reason had been left in the hallway, and wondering for the umpteenth time why it was the British couldn’t survive so much as an hour without a cup of hot, strong, tea. ‘I’ve already had two cups at the Voigts’.’ ‘Then you were bloomin’ quick about it,’ Albert retorted cheerily from the depths of his armchair, ‘Carrie’s only bin back ten minutes and she an’ Kate an’ Danny an’ the kids all came ’ome from the swimmin’ baths together.’ Christina walked into a sitting-room almost as cluttered as the hallway. Albert was reading the paper, the sleeves of his collarless shirt rolled high. Danny was trying to tune the wireless into some light music, his coppery-red hair still wet from the duckings he had received at the swimming baths. Leah was finishing off Miriam’s pile of darning. ‘Did the children enjoy themselves?’ she asked, not wanting to disclose that it had been Kate’s father she had been talking to and drinking tea with, not Kate.
