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'Gran?' She asked. 'How did you meet my grandad? You never have said.'

Irene looked Kerry up and down for a long silent thirty seconds and then 'harrumphed' as if something was stuck in her throat.

'It's a long story, luv. You don't want boring with that.'

'Yes I do, Gran. I've often wondered.'

There was another long silence which only served to heightened our curiosity, then Irene shifted uneasily in her chair, complained vaguely about 'rheumatics' and eventually and apparently reluctantly began.

'Well I met Jim in 'thirty-eight, and we got married in 'thirty-nine, about three weeks before the war broke out. He were a merchant seaman you know, on them colliers carrying coal down the North Sea to London, or at least he were when the war started. Them men in Whitehall soon changed that though and he found hisself on the Atlantic convoys, fetchin' stuff from America. It were dangerous work convoy work were. He had two ships torpedoed out from under him before they finally got him. But I'm getting ahead of meself.'

Kerry glanced at me with the look on her face that said 'shut up and sit back, you're in this for the long haul and don't you dare interrupt.' I wasn't thinking of interrupting, as it happens I find listening to people reminiscing about their past quite fascinating. Yeah, I know that makes me a bit strange, but there it is.

'Hard times, war times, don't let people kid you. Me and Jim, well we'd taken rooms with the Collins' at the back of Trinity St and we swore blind to the council that we'd divided the house into two separate flats so as to get two separate coal rations, but we shared really. It worked out just fine. I had people around me when Jim was at sea and I could give old Mrs Collins a hand in the house when she needed it. Anyway, it were cheaper that way and we wanted to save for our own place when the war was over. Not that we needed to bother 'cos Jim got sunk somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic.' Sadness and anger flitted across her wrinkled face before she carried on. 'And I did two jobs, what with all the men being away fighting there was plenty of work for them that wanted it. I worked in that old haberdashery shop in the town centre all week and then did three nights a week as barmaid in the 'Lost Traveller'.' She laughed briefly, a short bark of a laugh. 'And never were a pub better named, what with all the signposts having been taken down. They thought it'd confuse the Jerrys if they invaded, but all it did were to confuse every bugger else.'

She settled back in her chair, took a sip from a cup of tea and then continued.

'It weren't a lot of laughs when they started bombing us though. They were aiming for the docks of course, but aiming then weren't what it is now, they just tipped 'em out and hoped. We all used to hide in the cellar, until one day a family got drowned when their house got hit and then the water main burst and they couldn't get out. After that we thought sod it and just carried on as normal. It were funny one night though. A bomb came down and hit the street behind in the middle of the road, and it shook our place pretty bad, in fact it were so bad that it shook all the soot loose in the chimney. It all came down in a bloody great 'whoomph' and it went everywhere, over the furniture, over our supper and all over us too. We looked like we'd all blacked up for the Keystone Cops, and the best of it was that it had broke the water main again, so there were no water to wash with, until we went round and dipped buckets into the crater.' She chuckled at the memory.

'Me and Doreen White, who worked at the Traveller same as me and lived a couple of streets away, used to walk home together.

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