Two Penn'orth of Sky Read Online Free PDF Page B

stories, yet he was also firm. When he denied Diana something, it was for the right reasons, and unlike Emmy herself, who could be relied upon to change her mind, any decision he made would be final. Emmy admired this in Peter, knowing how he idolised the child, and how comparatively brief was his time with her. She herself hated saying no to their daughter, even when she knew it was the correct thing to do.
    So now she was able to say gaily: ‘If you see Johnnydo pass on my best wishes, Bee. Is he still working at the brewery?’
    Beryl shook her head. ‘No, he took a white-collar job in the shipping offices some while ago, but I believe they’re going to move away from Liverpool. Old Mrs Frost told me that Rhian’s first language is Welsh, so they’ll mebbe move over the border if they get married. But what on earth are we doing, talking about Johnny Frost, when you wanted to know whether you should press Peter to visit his mam and dad? I say you should, and the sooner the better.’ She gave her friend an affectionate hug. ‘You’re too soft, young Emmy – you always were. Say you want to visit your mama and papa-in-law and stick to your guns. He loves you ever so much, queen; you’ve only got to look at him to realise that. He’ll not deny you when he sees you’re in earnest.’
    The trip to visit her in-laws was actually arranged, when tragedy intervened. Mrs Dickens had moved into the house in Lancaster Avenue, as planned. Peter had had one of the bedrooms converted into a bed-sitting room so his mother-in-law could make her meals in her own room should she wish to do so, although in actual fact both Emmy and her mother were far happier sharing the kitchen and chattering away as they worked. When Peter was at home, Mrs Dickens tried to spend more time in her own room, or went and visited old friends in Nightingale Court, but for the most part she and Emmy shared both the work and the fun of looking after Diana.
    It was a pleasant, October day, with the leaves on the apple tree outside the window beginning to change colour. Emmy, gazing absently out as she washed up the porridge saucepan, thought that sheought to begin to pick the fruit. She would store it on trays, so that they could have their own apples when Christmas came. Mam will give an eye to Diana whilst I work, she told herself, but if I don’t do it now the apples will all have fallen by the time we get back from Epsley Manor.
    It was only then that she realised that she had not heard a sound from her mother’s room. Mrs Dickens was usually an early riser, but she had visited old friends the previous day and had come in late. She’s having a lie-in, Emmy told herself. Diana was two and a half now, old enough to be left, securely strapped in her high chair, whilst she polished off a plateful of porridge, liberally sprinkled with brown sugar, so Emmy set off for the stairs. At the head of them, she tapped lightly on Mrs Dicken’s door, then opened it. She was smiling as she entered the room, thinking that she had caught her mother out. The older woman always claimed that she was a light sleeper who took little pleasure in her bed and much preferred to be up and about. Now, however, it seemed that she had given way to temptation and was actually enjoying an extra hour between the sheets.
    However, if anyone had earned a rest, Emmy knew it was her mother, who had worked hard all her life. Indeed, it was only since she had moved into Lancaster Avenue that things had been easier for her, so Emmy decided not to tease her but went straight to the window and pulled back the curtains, turning to say cheerfully, but softly: ‘You must have been tired, Mam, because you’ve actually overslept! I couldn’t believe it when I found myself first down until I remembered how late you came in last night. If it were me, you’d say I was burning the candle at both ends, but—’
    She stopped speaking abruptly. The small figure in the bed had not moved, and all in