that she was now mixing with other young women. This Dotty might even persuade her to have a night out and a bit of fun if she played her cards right – not that Dotty looked the fun type, if she were honest. She was a mousy little thing, but then anyone was better than no one at the end of the day.
‘Come on, sit yourselves down and have a warm while I get you both a cuppa,’ she urged them.
Dotty quickly did as she was told while Lucy unwrapped the scarf from about her neck and bent to tickle Mary’s chin. The child stared up at her, her mouth hanging slackly open as she continued to pile the colourful wooden bricks one on top of the other until they toppled over. Then the whole process began again and Dotty’s heart twisted in her chest for the poor little mite. Lucy had warned her that Mary was ‘special’ and now she could see exactly what she meant. It was a shame because the child was quite beautiful, with soft curly auburn hair, much the same colour as Lucy’s, and strikingly green eyes. But those eyes, when she looked up at Lucy, were vacant. It almost broke Dotty’s tender heart just to see her. There had been a little boy in the orphanage who had been much the same, and she wondered what would have happened to him now. He had been a great favourite amongst the staff, and the other children were always very protective towards him, but now Dotty was forced to ask herself what would become of him when he was too old to stay in the safe confines of the orphanage? It didn’t bear thinking about because, just like Mary, he would never be able to look after himself. Perhaps he would end up in a mental institution somewhere?
These gloomy thoughts were interrupted when Mrs P pushed a mug across the table to her and pointed to the milk and sugar. ‘Help yourself, luvvie,’ she said pleasantly.
During the next ten minutes, as the girls drank their tea, Mrs P kept up a running commentary about Mary. ‘Little angel this one is, just like her big sister,’ she told Dotty, making Lucy blush. ‘She’s so good you don’t know you’ve got ’er. But now tell me what you two ’ave been up to today.’
The girls willingly told her about the departments they’d both been working in and Mrs P listened attentively until the front door opened and Fred walked in.
‘Got company then, ’ave we?’ he asked good-naturedly as he threw his snap tin onto the table and shrugged his long arms out of his coat.
‘This ’ere is Dotty, young Lucy’s friend.’
‘Pleased to meet yer, Dotty.’ The huge man shook Dotty’s hand until she was sure it would fall off as Lucy began to collect Mary’s things together.
‘Yer could always leave her here fer the night if you two fancied goin’ out,’ Mrs P offered hopefully. She had never known Lucy go out without Mary before, apart from a couple of hours each Sunday afternoon, that was, when she willingly looked after Mary for her. She still didn’t know where the girl disappeared off to, but felt that it would do her the power of good to have a proper night out.
However Lucy shook her head. ‘Thanks for the offer, but we’re just goin’ to have a cosy night in,’ she told the kindly woman.
Minutes later, after Mrs P had closed the door behind them, she dished up Fred’s dinner while he hastily washed at the deep stone sink.
‘It would have been nice fer young Lucy to have a night out,’ she remarked. ‘’T’ain’t natural fer a young ’un like her to have so much responsibility on her shoulders.’
‘Well, it don’t seem to bother her none, Glad,’ Fred pointed out as he took a seat at the table and lifted his knife and fork.
The woman sniffed. She knew how much Lucy was worrying about Mary, and she was dreading her going away herself; the little scrap had kept her sane since her own children had been evacuated. But the child would be five years old in the New Year and then Lucy would have no choice but to have her evacuated too – if the war