Passing Mr Rathbone’s shop she smiled to herself, for the previous day she and Aunt Myrtle had done the messages together and her aunt had announced her intention of visiting Rathbone’s. ‘Now that Mr Rathbone and your uncle are on good terms, like, I’ll see if I can get some meat a bit cheaper,’ she had said. ‘You go on up to the greengrocer’s and buy a stone of spuds, a large cabbage and a turnip or two.’ Dot had groaned a bit at the thought of lugging all that weight about but when Aunt Myrtle had said, amicably enough, that if Dot preferred it they would swap over and she would get the vegetables, Dot had said at once that she would rather leave things as they were, since Mr Gaulton, the greengrocer, would very likely give her a plum or a small red apple, whereas Mr Rathbone only handed out abuse and clips round the ear. Her aunt had laughed and gone off quite happily into Mr Rathbone’s shop, apparently believing that because he had been drinking with her husband he would treat her like a valued customer.
