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Sadie shrugged. "I'll go in and put the kettle on."
"Away you go in and help her, Linda," said Mrs Mullet, but Linda
did not want to miss anything in the street.
"I can manageIt is alright," said Sadie, who did not want Linda's company
anyway. She wanted to be alone to think.
She set the kettle on the gas and took down the cups from their
hooks. The kitchen was spotlessly clean and tidy. Her ma mother
was a good housewife. "You could eat off the floor," she was fond
of saying proudly, but Sadie always asked who would want to eat off
the floor.
After a few minutes Tommy joined her. "It seems they've have got
Mrs cConkey out. But she’s badly burned."
"Poor Mrs McConkey," sighed Sadie.
They would never again lean on her counter amongst the trays of
sweets and rows of newspapers and comics. A part of their childhood
had gone.
"The tea's ready, " aid Sadie. "Will you call them in?"
The two families sat down in the kitchen together.
"The firemen are still at it," said Mr Jackson. "The shop's a
gonner, that's for sure."
"Let's hope Mrs cConkey's not," aid said Mrs Jackson.
"And to think I was in there just a few hours ago having a crackyarn
with her," sniffed Mrs Mullet. She lifted her head thoughtfully.
"There was a girl came in when I was there. A stranger."
"Have abiscuit, Mrs Mullet," said Sadie quickly, thrusting the
