A Daughter’s Courage: A powerful, gritty new saga from the Sunday Times bestseller. Kitty Neale

even knew who she was. It had broken Dorothy’s heart when she had first seen him in this state, but it was something she’d now become accustomed to.

      Having got no response from her father, she returned to the kitchen, where her mother was putting some freshly washed clothes through the mangle. For the umpteenth time she tried again to challenge her.

      ‘Mum, why won’t you let Dr Stubbs get some treatment for Dad? He’s not getting any better and this has been going on for over eleven years now. It’s pretty obvious that he’s out of his mind.’

      Alice wiped her forehead with the back of a ravaged hand as she turned to look at her daughter. Her greying hair was held in a loose bun with thin strands hanging scraggily down. Though only in her forties, the hard life she’d been forced to live had prematurely aged her, and she said wearily, ‘I’ve been through this with you before, Dottie. I won’t have your father put in one of them places ’cos you know what they do to them in there. They electrocute them! He just needs lots of love and patience from his family. You’ll see, one day we’ll have your dad back to how he was, but if he goes into that nuthouse, that’ll be the last we ever see of him.’

      ‘What if you’re wrong, Mum? What if he never gets better?’

      ‘He will, love. You know that Mrs Brigade, the woman from up Lavender Hill with the nine boys all with ginger hair, well, I saw her the other day in the haberdashery shop. She told me that three of her sons had come home from the war as very changed young men and it took years to get back to normal. The point is, they did eventually, and remember they’re a lot younger than your father, so of course they would get better quicker. But mark my words, gal, your father will be back to his silly old self soon enough.’

      Dorothy wasn’t convinced and would rather have put her trust in modern medicine but she didn’t want to push her mother any further. ‘If you say so, Mum. I reckon it’s a bloody travesty though. The army should never have sent him home like that. They should have sent him to one of those centres first, you know, the ones where they have special head doctors to sort out soldiers with that combat stress thing.’

      ‘Perhaps you’re right, love, but at the end of the day they washed their hands of him. Many years ago I did apply to have his pension increased, but they turned the application down.’

      ‘You could try again.’

      ‘No, love, your dad isn’t physically disabled and, as they sort of hinted that he could be putting it on, it would just be a waste of time.’

      ‘Of course he isn’t putting it on,’ Dottie said indignantly.

      ‘You know that and I know that, but I’m not going to put him through one of those medicals again. Now come on, go and do something with your hair before that lovely young man of yours arrives. Is he taking you dancing tonight?’

      Dorothy couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Robbie, even though she knew her mother was changing the subject, which she always did whenever Dorothy brought up her father’s health or his pension. ‘He is, and tonight there’s a band on who sound just like Bill Haley and His Comets. I’ve made myself a smashing pencil skirt to wear, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to dance very well in it.’

      ‘I don’t know, you youngsters and your funny fashions. Don’t get me wrong, Robbie’s a lovely lad, but those trousers he wears are so blinking tight they’re nearing indecency, and as for his daft floppy hair …’

      ‘His hair is just like that film star Tony Curtis, and I don’t hear you knocking him. And as for his trousers, well … I think he looks dishy in them!’

      ‘Dishy? What sort of word is that?’ Alice asked, laughing.

      Dorothy joined in and then left her mother at the mangle as she skipped up the stairs to her bedroom to change her clothes and plait her long blonde hair.

      Alice was so pleased to see the joy Robbie had brought to her daughter’s life over the past few months. After all, the girl didn’t have it easy. She worked long hours in the bakery and deserved a bit of fun.

      A pang of guilt struck Alice again, the same feeling she’d harboured since Dottie first started work aged fifteen. Her daughter was such a beautiful girl and could easily have been a model, but instead she’d had to take the job with Bertie Epstein, the baker in town. Dorothy never failed to hand over most of her wages and she never complained about it. Alice tried hard to contribute herself, but couldn’t earn enough to cover all the household expenses from taking in washing.

      She was grateful to her neighbours for helping her out. It wasn’t as if most of them could afford the privilege of someone to do their dirty laundry, but still they rallied around, paying a few pennies where they could for Alice to wash their clothes and sheets. She had a couple of clients from the posh houses facing the park, but they were proper skinflints and didn’t pay much. She wanted to ask for more, but was too scared of losing the work. She paid a lad threepence to pick up the laundry and return it, and though it ate into her earnings, she was reluctant to add to her daughter’s load by asking her to take on the task.

      It was a hard life, but Alice wouldn’t grumble. Bill couldn’t help being how he was. He was all right physically. He could walk and with a push from her he would wash, dress and feed himself, but she knew that left to his own devices he would just sit in his own muck.

      Alice sighed. It wasn’t as if he’d deliberately sent himself mad, and when she tried to imagine what her husband must have witnessed to send him over the edge, a shudder went down her spine. He’d always been such a good provider, but when war broke out, being loyal to King and country, he had immediately put himself forward to ‘do his bit’. Yet look at him now, rocking backwards and forwards in his chair, mumbling to himself and still screaming out in bed when the nightmares haunted him.

      Alice yearned to help him recover but Dorothy’s questions still rang in her ears. What if he never gets better? Alice stiffened with resolve. In sickness and in health, that’s what she had vowed on her wedding day, and come what may she would stick to her promise to Bill.

       Chapter 2

      Dorothy’s heart was beating nineteen to the dozen as seven o’clock approached. Robbie would be calling for her and butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she checked her reflection in the cracked mirror on her small oak dressing table. She applied a slick of red lipstick, using it as blusher too to rosy her cheeks. Her blue eyes were framed with jet-black mascara and a red satin bow held her long plait in place. She was strikingly pretty, with long legs that put her three or four inches taller than most of her friends, yet she was a humble girl who didn’t realise how attractive she was to men.

      Satisfied with her appearance, Dottie went over to the window and saw Robbie walking along the street, his hands tucked firmly into his trouser pockets and a roll-up hanging from the corner of his mouth. With a clap of glee, she grabbed a cardigan before racing down the stairs to open the front door.

      ‘Hello, Dottie,’ Robbie greeted her, flashing a wide smile. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes! You look ravishing as always. Come here and give me a kiss.’

      Dorothy giggled and pulled away from Robbie’s tightening clinch on her. ‘Pack it in, will you, my mum’s just round the door,’ she said, indicating with her head at the front room. ‘She’ll hear you.’

      ‘Well, I don’t mind if she does. I’ll tell her what a gorgeous daughter she has and how I can’t keep my hands off her lovely bum.’

      Hoping her mother hadn’t heard Robbie’s remark, Dorothy yelled a hasty goodbye, grabbed her coat and quickly closed the front door behind her as she heard her mother call back a warning. ‘Don’t be late and behave yourself!’

      Robbie and Dorothy both held their breath until they got safely out of earshot, but then burst out laughing. ‘Behave yourself,’ Robbie parroted as he pulled her into his arms again. ‘I