months she carried himâsick as a dog, most days. All for nothing, though. And they say it, donât they? All about God, and his mysterious ways. Yes well. Donât go to church any more, not after that. Thing like that, some people theyâll be kneeling down and blessing themselves, blathering on about this faith of theirs being tested to the limitsâyeh and all the rest of the Jesus baloney, and praying like the dickens to what they still do seem to believe is the heaven above them. Lighting candles and bawling their bloody eyes out. And others, other sortsâwell like me, for instanceâthey just turn away from the sight of it. No demonstration, none of the fist-waving ⦠just a cold shoulder, sort of style. Yes. And so God now, he can go on working in any kind of ways he bloody well likes, but Iâm damned if Iâll be seen to encourage him. And then Janey, seeing our Anthony that wayâall lopsided and a brave little face on himâwell â¦couldnât handle it, see? Turned away from the sight of it. Can hardly blame her: pitiful to watch, it can be. But somebody had to, didnât they? Deal with it. Somebody had to. So now, wellâitâs what I do. I do the shop, yehâbut what I really do is Anthony. Itâs hardest in the holidays, when Iâve got him all day. Werenât for young Paul, Iâd be in a bit of a spot. Yes I truly would. And talk of the devil ⦠here he is now, lookâbang on time, just like always. Thatâll be on account of his Auntie Milly, of course. Sheâs a wonderful woman, she is. And I do feel mean, sometimes, just slipping him a chew or a stick of liquorice from the penny tray. Piccaninnies and flying saucers heâs partial to as well, so I let him have a couple of those, time to time. But see, if I were to run to a packet of Spangles, or somethingâtube of Smarties, sort of style ⦠well word gets out at that school, and theyâll all be down on me like a plague of flies. Bad enough as it is. And with Anthony there, well Iâd have to, wouldnât I? Give it out to all of them. And I canât afford thatâjust canât afford to, simple as that. Itâs not a question of meanness, itâs a question of money. Those school fees, they donât ever lower them, do they? Reduce them, bring them down. No they donât, sir. Most of the people round here, of courseâthey donât have that problem because they just wonât put the effort in, my way of seeing it. Happy to send their kids to the ordinary schools. Iâm not saying thereâs anything wrong with them, the council schools, not saying theyâre really bad, or anything ⦠but I do think itâs your duty as a parent to secure for your child the best thatâs on offer. Thatâs it in a nutshell. And itâs difficult. I wouldnât try telling you itâs easy. But itâs duty. Itâs duty. And love, of course. Dedication. Though what Iâve seen of Jim Stammer, I doubt he can be thinking like that. But Millyâitâll be Milly behind it. Such a nice woman. Handsome woman. Hard worker. Heâs a very lucky man, Jim is. To have such a woman as that. Very lucky man. Iâll never forget: she was in the shop, onetimeâstocking up on her parma violets and getting in some Tizer for Paul, as I recallâand she said to me right out of the blue âJust think, Stanâif Iâd married you Iâd be called Milly Miller. That would be funny, wouldnât it?â âOh yes,â I said to herâand we were both sort of laughing by this timeââthat would be funny: that would be rich.â Yes it would. Rich indeed. Odd though, isnât it? The things you remember, and the things you forget. So anyway I must, you seeâI just must give him the very best start in life, the best I can. Except it isnât the start, of course. Aware of
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