A/N: Many thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing. Sorry it's been a while…

CHAPTER FOUR

August 1951.

"Curly, come sit down next to Tim."

Angela is crying. Curly is standing there, grizzling, in the doorway. Looks like he could start up bawling at any minute too. Both of them are most likely hungry, but I've only got one pair of hands and I'm desperately try to prepare her a bottle before she gets even more upset.

"Tim, honey, share your toast with your brother, pour him some milk."

He scowls at me, although at least he doesn't argue. He just pushes his own plate across the table then stands up, heads to the fridge. Then once he's placed the cup in front of his brother he turns as though to head out of the back door towards the yard.

"Where're you going?"

He shrugs, "Outside. Don't wanna be with all these babies crying."

I know how he feels. Angela is barely a couple of months old while Curly's not even eighteen months yet and I seem to live in a world of chaos. Every day is the same - nappies and bottles and laundry; screaming and crying and not a moment of peace for myself. No real help from anybody.

"Not yet. Sit back down and help your brother please."

Things are so different to when we were first married, or even when we just had Tim. But now, it's just a nightmare half the time being stuck here with two babies so close together and Tim not even five yet. And that's before Ted makes things even worse, getting on at me and moaning day in day out about the noise or the state of the place or something else I done wrong. Like it ain't nothing at all to do with him.

Can hear his footsteps now. Can feel myself getting more anxious as I wonder what he'll have to say about it all this time around.

"Damn it, Jean. It's a Sunday morning. Can't a guy have a little peace on his day off, catch up on his sleep? Some of us have been working hard all damn week. So I ought to be able to relax and enjoy my weekend a little, don't you think?"

"Working? Is that what you call it? Running jobs for that…that man." Ted's had a string of jobs since we got married. Don't seem able to stick at any of them very long. And now. Well, I don't think that I want to know too much about what he does, how he makes people pay up. Debt collector is what he calls himself. Only it's collecting money from people a little too much like us, for some no-good lowlife loan shark.

"Well it keeps a roof over your head and food on the table, sweetheart. Don't see you complaining about that. But if you don't damn well like it, you know what your options are. Go crawling back to your mother anytime you like."

God no. Would rather walk over hot coals than admit to her that my life ain't perfect. Rock Angela a little in my arms as she finally takes the bottle, quietens down. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Ted. I don't mean it. They're hungry is all."

"What? And that comes as a surprise to you does it? Couldn't fucking organise yourself enough to feed them in time?"

Can see Curly's bottom lip trembling at his father's raised voice and pray he don't cry, that he don't make things worse. Seems my baby has a knack of getting under his daddy's skin. Ted's forever telling me I mollycoddle him, that I'm gonna make him soft. But he's only little and I don't treat him no different than I did Tim. Least I don't think I do. Out the corner of my eye I spot Tim take his brother's hand and squeeze it under the table, hope him being there is enough to calm down Curly.

Find myself snapping back at Ted before I can stop myself. "Well maybe if you came home at a reasonable hour instead of spending all your time in a bar then you would get some sleep."

He grabs me by the arm, his face close to mine, and all I can think of is whether he's gonna hurt Angela. Don't care about me, just my babies.

"Maybe I would spend more time here. If there was anything here worth coming home for. If I had a proper wife." He trails his hand across the front of my dress, so I know exactly what he's getting at.

Selfish bastard.

Like he don't understand how hard all this is, how exhausted I am so that the last thing on my mind right now has been anything like that. Still find myself wanting to apologise, make peace between us. Except before I can say anything, he speaks again.

"Man needs to unwind after a hard week. And if there ain't no one at home willing to help him, well, is it any wonder if he might start looking elsewhere?"

Can still smell the booze on him from last night as he leans in a little closer to me.

But God. Is he saying what I think he means? Or is it simply a threat, to get me to do what he wants?

Only whatever, I can't risk it. I couldn't cope on my own. Couldn't bear it if he left me, if there was someone else and everyone knew and was laughing and gossiping about it behind my back. So I do the one thing I can think of, lean in and whisper my suggestion to him.

I dont say anything more as I settle Angela in the pram in the corner of the kitchen, just watch as Ted grins at me then turns to the boys.

"Tim, go take your brother in the sitting room, you boys play."

"But-"

"Just do it, okay? Your Ma and me need to go have a grown up conversation. So you boys stay in there, keep busy. You only come out if the baby cries. Understand?"

"But what if—"

"Only if she cries. And if she does, then you take care of her. "Tim frowns, looks like he might argue. "If you can do that, I'll give you a dime, and I'll take you out with me later."

"Just me? Not him as well?"

"Yeah, son. Just you. Now get going." Ted grins at him, hurries the boys out the room and then pulls me by the hand towards our bedroom while I wonder when I became so desperate that I'd do near enough anything to keep a man who don't even seem to treat me well no more. When I gave up believing I deserved anything good in my life, or if I ever truly believed that in the first place.

xxxxxx

Later, it seems he's forgotten his harsh words of earlier so I do my best to push away all my negative thoughts too. Instead he lies here beside me with his hands still on my body while he whispers that he loves me, then tells me that he's a lucky man to have such a beautiful wife and family.

And I try real hard not to question it, to just believe him, to be happy. Because he wouldn't say he loves me, not if he didn't mean it.

Tell myself that Ted loves me and it's only natural to argue sometimes. Everyone does when they are married. Lord knows Ma always has something to say to Daddy when she don't agree with something. And our neighbours at the old place, Mr and Mrs Johnson. Well they must have been more than sixty and barely a day went by without the two of 'em cussing at each other about something.

When the children are a little older, when they are all in school. Then it'll get easier, I know it will. It has to.

And I know I still love Ted as much as the day we first met, or the day we got married. I will always love him, no matter what.