Half a mile away in Bankside, Rosie Palmer carefully crossed over Sheffield Road from the bottom of Albert Street, the smell of hops and barley heavy in the chill air from the nearby Bradley’s Brewery, whose Victory Best Bitter was acknowledged as one of the best in town.
She stopped briefly to look in the window of Jacobs Toys, enviously eyeing a large porcelain doll called Veronica who had curly blonde hair, a flouncy red and pink dress tied with satin bows, white socks and pink buttoned shoes. But Rosie knew that the doll, long an object of desire, was way beyond her wildest dreams. She would have to make do with Millie, the rag doll that her Grannie Ada had knitted and stuffed with old rags.
The toy shop was also a doll’s hospital and she had wanted to take Millie there when an ear h
