Free Dream On by Gilda O'Neill

lengths of nylon over her arm. ‘Really lovely.’
    Carefully she put them to one side and dived back into the treasure store.
    Her face was glowing with covetousness as she reappeared with a square-shouldered bottle of scent. ‘Is this really the proper gear?’ she breathed.
    â€˜What else would you expect me to have?’ he asked, flopping back on to the tangle of bedclothes. ‘Dig a bit deeper, there’s some chocolates in there and all.’
    Dilys was in heaven. Sitting there, rooting through the packets and cartons, she was the picture of a spoilt child on Christmas morning, unwilling to share her booty with her less pushy brothers and sisters.
    â€˜Oi, Dilys! Watch how you handle them boxes,’ Ted warned her, his eyes narrowed against the smoke from his cigarete. ‘I’ve gotta sell that lot.’
    She flashed a worried look at him over her shoulder. ‘Not all of it?’
    He laughed, recognising his own greed in hers. ‘No. But don’t go too mad. I’ve got a living to make, remember.’
    Dilys held up the nylons again, admiring their sheen against the pale March sunlight that was filtering through the freshly laundered lace curtains – the same lace curtains that, only a few days before, she had stood on her street doorstep watching Ginny rehang after she had washed them and cleaned the windows.
    She touched the nylon to her cheek and gave a little moan. She loved nice things. She deserved them. And she would have them, no matter what the price.
    With her lids half lowered and her lips pressed into a sultry pout, Dilys crawled over to the bed on all fours. She then slinked her way across the bed until her naked body was draped across Ted’s. Slowly she ran her fingertips up and down the inside of his thigh. ‘Ted,’ she murmured into his ear, ‘will you take me to a club tonight? So’s I can wear me new stockings and that lovely scent?’
    Ted rolled her off him, propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at her flushed, eager face. He reached across her and ground out the stub of his cigarette in the pink cut-glass pin tray that had pride of place on Ginny’s dressing-table. ‘D’you think I’m made of money?’
    â€˜Well, ain’t you?’
    â€˜No.’ He dropped back on to the pillows. ‘Anyway, how about you earning some money for a change? You ain’t done a day’s work since you lost your job last year.’
    â€˜What? D’you really want me to go out all day like Ginny?’ She sounded horrified.
    â€˜At least Ginny’s bringing home wages.’ He clasped his hands behind his head. ‘That girl’s done all kinds of jobs since Bloom’s closed.’
    Dilys was having trouble keeping up with this new turn of events. ‘But, Ted, who’d keep you company?’
    He grinned up at the ceiling. ‘There’s that to it, I suppose.’
    This was more like it. He was obviously having a joke with her. ‘This is my job now.’ She giggled, crawling back on top of him and grabbing him between the legs.
    â€˜That’s enough of that, Dilys,’ he said, lifting her hand away.
    â€˜But, Ted—’
    â€˜You’ve gotta go, I’ve got business to see to.’
    â€˜But—’
    â€˜Don’t start whining, Dilys. Anyway, Ginny’ll be back from work soon.’
    â€˜She’ll think I’ve been over here helping Nellie for you, like she always does. And Nellie won’t give us away. You know she likes me better than Ginny. We have a laugh. And I don’t walk around the place with a face like a kite and keep tidying up round her all the time.’
    â€˜Ginny don’t bribe her with a bottle of the hard stuff every couple of days you mean.’
    â€˜You give me the bloody stuff to give her!’ Dilys fumed.
    â€˜Look, Dilys, I reckon even Ginny’d be suspicious if she finds us both up here