THE STORY SO FAR
1930s Northern England. Life has changed for Marina Kenny since the closure of Donby’s shipyard. Her father, Michael, had to leave home to find work, their lodging house has no custom, and they’ve been reduced to taking in washing. Her mother is adamant that Marina’s grandmother mustn’t know. Old Mrs Kenny sold her farm in Ireland to be nearer her only surviving son. Comfortably off in the posh end of town, she even has a maid. But Marina confesses all to her grandmother, who offers no help, saying her mother wouldn’t take it. Aid comes when a group of workmen turn up seeking lodgings and they’re working in the shipyard. Hopes rise. Money is coming in. Could Marina’s father return to work in Donby? But when Marina learns the shipyard is being torn down, not reopened, she’s devastated.
Marina could barely look at the lodgers now that she knew the truth. Even the smiling, chatty Sean seemed less handsome, less likeable. Once she’d return his smiles with a blush, but now ignored them, pretending not to notice that look of hurt in his eyes.
If the others noticed, they said nothing. Ma was so busy being happy, embracing the work she enjoyed, loving the liveliness of her lodging house, that she made up for it.
Marina was civil when serving breakfast, polite at evening meals. No slamming down of plates, though it was tempting, no ignoring their empty teacups. Porridge was dabbed into their bowls, burnt edges removed from their toast. All was
