As Carla walked forward she could hear Jack mutter "Bitch" under his breath as the door slammed shut."What are we going to do for food?" Carla asked. ...er mother sighed. "I don't know dear, but we'll get by. We should still have enough in that field to feed us for a couple more days. Its just up to Jack to find them."Carla nodded and began to do her days chores. She looked after the few chickens and goats they had left, cleaned up around the house, knitted clothes to be sold for some meager. "No, he never told us." It was the late forties, a depression, nobody had a job, all the ex-servicemen had returned from the war, even those who'd been prisoners of war, it had taken nearly four years, can you believe that?" Without waiting for a reply, she went on. "He used to steal flowers from the rich folk's gardens and sell them outside the train stations, that's how we met," she smiled and dabbed at her eyes."My dad used to watch him every morning, he'd sneak into the back garden, cut a. More

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