Mrs Clark minding them, I phoned Mike and he came back from work. He went straight round and rescued the children,
by now all desperately hungry and climbing the walls . . . along with Mrs Clark herself, I should think.
So back they all came, with great curiosity.
‘Will the house burn down?’ asked Gilroy. ‘I hope so.’ He sniggered. ‘Our bedrooms will be burnt to ashes.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ admonished Chrissy. ‘You always exaggerate!’
‘Ooh,’ said Daisy when they went through the hall to the playroom. She held her nose. ‘I don’t like the smell.’
‘No, sweetheart,’ I reassured her. ‘It will go soon.’
‘What’s that you’ve got in your hand?’ asked Mike, prising the sparkly object from AJ’s fist.
‘I found it on the floor,’ said AJ. Mike and I exchanged glances, knowing that was unlikely.
‘It’s a ring,’ I exclaimed. ‘You do not take things from other people’s houses. I’ll have to take you round later to give it back to Mrs Clark and say
you’re sorry.’
Mike fed, dressed and entertained them all for the rest of the morning, with a bit of help from me, in between making our visitors mugs of tea and coffee, and getting them to help me pull all
the upstairs furniture away from the walls.
The firemen were still there at lunchtime, so I rustled up some plates of sandwiches, which they wolfed down like gannets. Paul and Ronnie came into the kitchen while they were sat there,
eating.
‘Can I try your helmet on?’ Ronnie asked one of them.
‘Me too!’ clamoured Paul. ‘I want to be a fireman.’
One of the men put his helmet on Paul’s head and it fell right down over his eyes. He walked round bumping into things, which made everyone laugh, including him.
The firemen finally left at about two, when they were sure the fire was out and it was safe for us all to get back to normal.
‘It was so funny,’ I told Mike that evening. ‘You should have seen that fireman’s face when I kept on bringing babies and children down.’
‘Did you tell them why we have so many children?’
‘Oh no. I forgot to mention it.’
A few weeks after the chimney fire, Mrs Clark moved out of her house.
‘Did you know she was going?’ Mike asked me.
‘No, she never said a thing.’
‘Do you think it was something to do with us?’ he grinned.
I laughed.
‘I wonder who we’ll have as neighbours next,’ he said.
‘Well,’ I sighed. ‘Whoever it is, I hope they like children!’
The following morning, a shiny black Rover car pulled into the drive next door. I held my breath and craned my neck as I stood with a baby in each arm, looking out of an
upstairs window to try and catch sight of the new people, but I couldn’t see much. A middle-aged couple, the man with grey hair and the woman wearing a head-scarf, walked swiftly to the front
door and closed it behind them. There was nobody else with them.
About ten minutes later, while I sat on the window-seat, feeding Mergey, a huge lorry arrived with a classy name written on the side and three men in green overalls climbed out. Whoever these
new people are, I thought, they certainly aren’t doing this move on a shoestring.
Throughout the day there were comings and goings next door, but I was too busy with the kids’ food, laundry and playtimes to look.
Lizzie had finished her studies now and was applying for full-time jobs, so she was able to come and help out with the children for more hours during the week, which was a brilliant support. She
made such a difference and I hated to think of how I would manage when she had to leave, which probably wouldn’t be long.
Early that evening, while Lizzie was supervising the children’s teatime, I nipped next door with a casserole I’d cooked up for the new people.
The door opened and a rather serious-looking woman gave me a curious look.
‘Hello?’ she said in her cut-glass accent. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I’m Trisha and I live next door.’ I smiled.
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