Christmas Roses

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Christmas Roses Page 8

by Pat Posner

Roy nodded. “In Broome Park’s old stable block, sweetheart.”

  Maddie stumbled to a chair, sank down and covered her face with her hands. “I think my flu’s come back,” she moaned. “My temperature must be sky high because I can’t understand anything.”

  The next second, she felt Roy pulling her hands gently away from her face. “Can you understand I love you? That I talked a load of rubbish that awful day we split up and I’ve never stopped regretting it and have never stopped loving you?”

  Hazel squealed. “Is Maddie your lost love? Are you the one Maddie loved once? I think she still loves you, her eyes are all shiny, I can see from here. Oh, that’s million-billion-gold-star-good ’cos I really, really like Maddie. She’ll be my auntie when you get married, won’t she?”

  “Roy, did I hear right?” Amy rushed into the room. “The front door was open so I just walked in,” she said. “Did I hear right? Is Maddie…are you getting—”

  “Did Daddy get me a Patch puppy, Mummy?” asked Hazel.

  “Yes, he did, sweetie. He’s waiting outside in the car with it. We didn’t know Uncle Roy had come to fetch you until we saw his van outside. Now, hush because I want him to tell me—”

  “Buzz off, Amy, and take Hazel with you,” said Roy. “Maddie and I have a lot to sort out.”

  When Amy and Hazel had gone, Roy pulled Maddie to her feet and kissed her. A gentle, fleeting kiss but, thought Maddie, one full of hope and promise. “I want to take you somewhere, Maddie. It won’t take long and I’ll explain properly on the way. You will come, won’t you?”

  Maddie nodded.

  “Hal’s bought Amy a small car because she’d love to learn to drive and she’d be scared to drive his Singer because it’s quite big,” Roy said once they’d set off.

  Maddie nodded. “Amy said she couldn’t drive. I can, but only a 3-wheeler car on a motor cyclist licence.”

  “The car’s to be a surprise and today seemed a good day for him to give it her,” Roy continued. “Anyway, Amy needed a couple of extra chairs for the party tonight, so Hal and I planned that I’d deliver them in my van.”

  “I saw this van parked near Amy’s,” Maddie remembered.

  “I use it for work. But we told Amy I had a special appointment and didn’t want to arrive in my van so I’d go in their car and they’d drop me off on their way to do the shopping. They dropped me round the corner from the car showroom, we let Amy think I was seeing a prospective client.”

  “And you drove her new car back and it’s hidden in the old stable block at Broome Park.” Maddie laughed. “I really thought I was delirious when Hazel and you were talking.”

  “That’s nothing to how I felt when I discovered you weren’t married,” Roy said.

  A few minutes later, he pulled up outside a carpentry workshop. “We’re on the far end of Broome Lane, the other side of the Broome Hall from Hal and Amy’s,” he explained. “Back in the day when there was a huge staff at the Hall, this was their resident carpenter’s. I remember telling you once I liked working with wood.

  “But,” he added bitterly, “I never told you that I didn’t think it was prestigious enough to do as a full-time thing. I was such a fool, Maddie; Hal has always travelled around for his work, seen different places and foreign countries. I wanted to be one-up on him and go and live in Australia or New Zealand. I was determined to do anything Hal did but to do it better. One-sided sibling rivalry,” he admitted. “Hal’s great and he’d have had a fit if he’d known. Anyway, hop out, Maddie and let me show you round.”

  Inside, Roy pointed out various items of furniture in different stages of completion. Maddie could see that even the unfinished pieces were going to be exquisite. She ran her fingers over the back of a chair, enjoying the warmth of the wood, enjoying touching something Roy had touched.

  “Now for the first piece I ever made,” he said. He took her through to another section and pulled a protective cover from…

  “It’s an old-fashioned love-seat.” Maddie gasped. “Is this what Hazel was talking about, Roy? It’s beautiful, really beautiful.”

  “I made it for you, Maddie. That day I went looking for you, I wanted to bring you to the workshop, show you what I was doing here and then take you to the cottage I’d bought. A cottage with honeysuckle and roses around the door. I’d taken the love-seat to the cottage; it fits perfectly in the inglenook in the cottage living room. When I heard you were married, I brought it back here, but I couldn’t bear to part with it. I didn’t part with the cottage, either, Maddie. Would you like to come and see it? It’s next door but one to Amy and Hal’s.”

  There was no mistaking what Roy was really asking her. Maddie could almost feel the shadows that had lived in her heart for so long fading away. But she and Roy would never have found each other again if hadn’t been for Doreen looking out for herself as usual. Oh, it didn’t bear thinking about.

  “Maddie?” Roy asked.

  Maddie wound her arms around his neck. “Only if we take the love-seat with us,” she said huskily.

  Easter Parade

  “What’s up with you, Bernard? You’ve got a face on you like when Smokey chewed a wasp.”

  “You’re more like Smokey than I am with your catty remarks,” Gloria’s brother replied.

  “I’d rather be a cat than a grouse like you, bearish Bernie.”

  “Honest to goodness, Gloria,” said their mum, “you’re eighteen and still act like a kid at times. As for you, Bernard, what are you doing sitting indoors on a day like this? I’m sure all your friends are doing something outside.”

  “They are,” Bernard said. “Doing stuff that’s for little kids. They’re collecting flipping Pussy Willow to wave around on Palm Sunday and after that they’re going to use the twigs to decorate prams and bikes and bogeys for the Easter Parade. It was right good when we did Easter stuff up at Broome Hall last year. I wish we were doing it up there again instead of us having to do something here in the village.”

  “I bet you’re glad it’s not happening up there, Mum,” said Gloria.

  “Too true. Organising the Fun Day last Easter nearly finished me off. I wouldn’t want to do that again, not for a big clock. And talking of clocks, look at the time. I’ll be late for the lunch-time opening at The Woodman if I don’t get going. Landlord likes his barmaids to be there early.”

  When their mum had gone, Bernard carried on where he’d left off. “And seeing how we are doing it, I wish I could think of something good to do, something better than sticking twigs onto flipping toys.”

  “Egg-rolling would be fun, ar kid. Why not do that? Go up to the folly in Broome Park and roll them down that big slope. You’d need to hard boil and decorate the eggs first of course.”

  “I’d need some eggs in the first place,” Bernard snapped, but Gloria could tell he quite liked her idea.

  “Tell you what. I’ve got to go along to Broome Avenue. I’ve got a Toby Jug for Connie Stone. Spotted it on Duggie and Sid’s pot stall when I was at Radlington market yesterday. I could call in on Mary Clayton and see if she’s any eggs to spare. Her hens usually lay well this time of year.”

  “Right. Ta, Gloria. We’ll need eggs for something even if we don’t have egg-rolling.”

  *

  “I don’t reckon Mary’s even thought about collecting eggs today,” Connie said when, after presenting her with the ornament, Gloria told her about the egg-rolling idea. “Her John was rushed in yesterday morning with appendicitis. He were operated on straight away. Flo and I had the kiddies sleeping here in case she needed to go to the hospital. When she collected them an hour or so back, she said John would be all right but would be off work for quite a bit.”

  “Where does he work?” Gloria asked.

  Connie shrugged. “Funny, but neither of them have ever said and I never liked to ask. Just know he leaves early in the mornings on his NSU moped. Maybe he’s a tax inspector or something. Some folk might not feel at ease with him if he is.”

  �
�Well, whatever he works at, I’ll spread the news that he’s in hospital and then everyone will rally round to help in some way. Mary will likely get enough casseroles and loaves of home-made bread to feed an army. I’ll call in now and see if there’s anything she wants doing or fetching. Maisie Butterworth had some men’s dressing gowns on her Good as New rail yesterday. John might need one if he’s to be in hospital a while.”

  *

  “I told Connie I was coming to ask you about eggs for egg-rolling,” Gloria said when Mary led her into the kitchen. “Then she said how your John was in hospital. How is he? And if he needs a dressing gown, I could bring you one from Maisie Butterworths’ stall tomorrow. She’s got some right nice ones.”

  A dressing gown would be useful, Gloria,” Mary said gratefully. “John’s has seen much better days. Felt a bit ashamed when I took it in for him, along with his pyjamas and slippers. Not that John would worry about that. What’s worrying him, even more than not being able to go tatting for a good few weeks, is Moses.”

  “Tatting? Is that collecting rags and bones and stuff like a totter does?”

  Mary gave a half-smile. “There’s a few different names for it, some not very nice, but, yes, John is a rag and bone man.”

  “And does Moses work for him?”

  “Moses is his donkey. John’s got a yard and stable in Salford. He says Trevor, the chap in the yard next to his, will feed and water Moses but Moses loves working and gets depressed if he isn’t out pulling the cart most days. I feel sorry about Moses of course, but sorrier still that we won’t have John’s earnings coming in.”

  “I’ve often wondered how totters turn what they collect into money,” said Gloria.

  “John stores all the stuff he’s collected in his yard ’til the end of every month and then takes it to the rag yard and the scrap metal place and gets it weighed in for cash. He doesn’t often get bones, but if he does he sells them to a place that turns them into fertilizer.”

  “Cripes, it’s not the end of March for another couple of days. Does that mean—” Gloria broke off. It might sound nosy asking if John had taken March’s stuff for weighing in.

  Mary nodded. “It means no wages this month. I reckon I can just about manage somehow for a few weeks and the stuff will still be there when John can get back to it. But if it takes a while for him to be fit enough…”

  “What if someone went tatting for him and just kept adding to the stuff in the yard ’til John can take it for weighing in? Then you’d have a couple o’ month’s earnings in one hit, even though you’d have had to wait for it.”

  “That’d be a miracle,” Mary said.

  “Easter’s coming up, and it’s the time of year for miracles, isn’t it? I think I’ve got an idea. I bet Moses knows his way round the places John goes, just like the milkman’s horse knows which houses to stop at.”

  “You mean you think you know of someone who might go out collecting with Moses and the cart?”

  “Can’t promise, but I might,” Gloria replied. “I’ll bring you a dressing gown for John tomorrow evening and I’ll let you know then if I’ve been successful. And if I have you could ask John about it and, if he’s for it, you could write down the names of roads he goes collecting on.”

  “Either way, I’ll make sure I’ll have a few eggs for the egg-rolling on Easter Sunday,” Mary said.

  *

  “Don’t be a twerp, Gloria.” Her dad shook his head when she put her idea to him. “I know you’ve driven a pony and cart for events her Ladyship puts on and, fair enough, it’s good you want to help Mary out. But going round the streets blowing a horn and callin’ out for rags and stuff is no job for a lass.”

  “I’ve never heard the like,” said her mum.

  “She’d be good at calling out,” Bernard put in. “You’re always saying she’s got a voice like a foghorn, Mum.”

  Gloria ignored her mum and brother and concentrated on persuading her dad. “It’d only be two or three times a week for a month or so, Dad, just ’til John’s fit again. And I wouldn’t be letting Maisie down, I’d still do Wednesday, Friday and Saturday on her market stall and go rag ‘n’ boning on the other week days.”

  “That’s not the point. John’s a big fella and can cope with any aggro he might get in the back streets—”

  “He likely goes round the posher areas where the big houses are. And, anyways, I could borrow Laddie from Jenny Pearce. I saw her after I’d left Mary’s and she was telling me about him growling and barking at the decorators when they were painting her prefab. Said he sounded right scary even though he’s a big softie really. And I’ve often taken him with me when I’ve gone on a bike ride, so he’d enjoy walking alongside me when I ride over to John’s yard.”

  “I can see you’ve thought it all out, Gloria. Tell you what. If her Ladyship won’t mind her chauffer driving a donkey and cart, I’ll ask for a bit of time off next week and come with you a time or two first to see if I reckon you’d be safe on your own, how would that do? It’d be that or nothing,” he added.

  “You’re on, Dad. Of course, we don’t know if John will agree to it. If he does, Mary will get details of where he goes and anything else we’d need to know.”

  “What I know is that you can twist Dad round your little finger,” Bernard said. “It’s not fair just because you’re a bit older than me.”

  “When you’re old enough to leave school and start work, little brother, happen you’ll want to be a totter,” Gloria told him. “And Dad would find it hard to say no seeing how he’s going to be one for a couple of days.”

  “That’s a couple of days too many if you ask me,” Gloria’s mum said. She clearly didn’t like the idea at all.

  *

  “So how did it go today?” Gloria’s mum asked the following Tuesday. Was it as good as yesterday?”

  Gloria nodded, thinking Mum seemed to have come round to accepting things a bit more now. “You’d never believe the stuff we got, Mum. Some of what folk call rags are better than my Sunday best outfit.”

  “What were they dressed like themselves?”

  “Like John told Mary, it isn’t often the lady of the house comes out to the cart in the posher areas. They send one of the maids. They were wearing sort of uniforms really. I felt right sorry for them, most wanted a goldfish because they aren’t allowed proper pets of their own.”

  “More than a few wanted a blown-up balloon today, Edith,” said Gloria’s dad. “Reckon they were the nursery maids wanting a little something to brighten their charges’ day. I got fair out of puff at times.”

  “Should have let me go instead of you, Dad,” Bernard grumbled. “Blowing up a few balloons wouldn’t get me out of puff.”

  “But you’ve been with Gloria twice now. Do you think she’ll be safe enough to handle it on her own, Bill?”

  Gloria waited anxiously for her dad to answer that question.

  “Trevor, the fella who’s got the yard next door to John’s seems a right good sort and says he’ll give Gloria a hand unloading into John’s storage room as well as keeping a good eye on Moses. And if Thursday goes like today, I’m sure she’ll be all right on her own, Edith. You should hear her yelling Raaaag-Bone,” he added with a smile. “Never thought I’d see the day when I were proud of the way she can shout.”

  “Thanks, I think, Dad,” said Gloria. Then she turned to her mum. “We’ll be going around streets of terraced houses on Thursday and, according to what John told Mary, most folk there will want a donkey stone for their rags. So we’ll take plenty with us.”

  “That takes me back to when I was a lass in Liverpool. All the housewives there cleaned their front steps and window ledges with donkey stone. I wonder if they’re called that because it’s often a donkey that pulls a totters’ cart.”

  “I don’t know. But Moses is a lovely donkey, Mum. A few kiddies run out to stroke him and talk to him and he laps it up.”

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing to Moses when you get back to John�
��s yard and are busy unloading stuff, Gloria,” Bernard told her. “I could ride over about four o’clock or whatever time you finish. I like donkeys and I’d like to do summat useful as well.”

  Even though he drove her crazy at times, Gloria felt sorry for her younger brother who was at the horrible in between age of too young for some things and not old enough for others. But she did have something in mind and, if Mary thought it would be all right, it would cheer Bernard up no end. She didn’t dare even hint at anything, though, ’til she’d spoken to Mary.

  “Mum, I’m going round to Broome Avenue now,” she said, “to let Mary know how me and Dad went on.”

  *

  “Come in and tell me all about it,” Mary said, coming to meet Gloria as she walked up the garden path to the prefab. “The children will want to hear it, too. They’re busy twisting Pussy Willow twigs together ready for waving on Palm Sunday.”

  “And we’re going to decorate big floppy hats with them for Easter, too,” Mary’s young daughter told Gloria.

  Gloria hadn’t meant to mention her new idea to Mary until she’d told her how well everything had gone today. But she couldn’t let such a good opportunity pass. “I was thinking about the prefab village’s Easter Parade, Mary. It would be lovely if we could have a donkey leading it.”

  “You mean Moses?” Mary smiled. “It would be lovely, and I’m sure Moses would enjoy it. But how would we get him here, Gloria?”

  “Bernard and I could fetch Moses and the cart here first thing Easter Sunday morning. Then everybody could set to decorating the cart and maybe the youngest kiddies could sit in the cart when we start the parade. They’d look so sweet if they all wear decorated Easter bonnets. Moses could wear one, too.”

  “John might be out of hospital by then,” Mary said. “He wouldn’t be able to take part of course, but seeing Moses would make his day.”

  “So, that’s settled then,” Gloria said, and then went on to tell Mary how her second day of tatting had gone. “Everyone missed John, though. Quite a few asked about him and said to tell him to get well soon.”

 

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