by Rosie Clarke
‘I should’ve done the same in your place,’ he assured her with a gentle smile. ‘Don’t let her stop you being you, Peggy. You’re loved for who and what you are – and that girl mustn’t be allowed to ruin that.’
Peggy was thoughtful as the next weeks passed without incident. The boarding house continued to be fully booked and the guests were a constant joy. She made her special jams and conserves, as always, and had started to make them in different batches; the bigger jars were for use for the breakfast table and others for their own use, and then she made tiny ones, which were presented to the guests when they left as a little gift. Most people had their favourites; the lemon and lime marmalade appealed to the older men and the children loved the strawberry and plum jams. So, some families had one of each to take home. It was a small gesture and much appreciated by guests who had enjoyed their stay. In fact, several of them had already booked ahead for the next summer.
‘My children want to come again next summer,’ one gentleman told her as he paid his bill at the end of his stay, ‘but they want to come for three weeks next time. London has so much to offer – and we wouldn’t want to stay anywhere else. You’ve made us so welcome and your food is the best we’ve ever had.’
Peggy glowed with pleasure as guest after guest said something similar. One couple had actually booked up to stay for Christmas. Until she was asked, Peggy hadn’t been sure she would open over Christmas, but she had three requests on one day and decided that it wouldn’t really take much more work to cook a bigger turkey. So she’d asked Pearl what she thought about it.
‘I want you and your daughter to come for Christmas Day,’ Peggy said. ‘We’ll make it a big family party and the guests can join in – why shouldn’t they help to prepare the dinner and have a drink or two? Just as if they were at home but without the worry?’
‘It sounds lovely,’ Pearl said and hugged her. ‘My mother is going to my brother’s this year – and I was asked. I might have gone, but I’d rather bring my girl here.’
‘Then that’s settled,’ Peggy said. ‘I’ve taken three guests and of course there is Alice and Mr Bonnet, who will be here as permanent guests – that is no more than a big family lunch. Shirley and Pip may come with Chris and the baby, and perhaps Maureen’s family, but they will all muck in and help.’ She smiled her content. ‘I shan’t take any more – that is enough for the Christmas period, but we’ll open up to all-comers in the New Year again.’
‘It seems odd to think of Christmas in summer,’ Pearl remarked, ‘but of course if guests have wanted to book.’
She was amazed when Peggy told her that she already had bookings for the following Easter and Summer school holidays. ‘They are families,’ she said. ‘The rest of the year it will be mainly couples up for a few days to shop and visit the theatre or travelling salesmen, I expect…’
‘Or visitors from abroad,’ Pearl said. ‘I took a booking for next weekend, Peggy. He is an Australian and he’s here for a couple of months. He wanted three days in London, before he goes off round Britain and then he’ll come back for a few days at the end of his stay. I told him we only have a very tiny room, but he said if it is cheap and clean, he would be happy with a broom cupboard.’
‘You’ve given him Gillian’s old room,’ Peggy said and nodded. ‘I’ll give it another turnout. I keep thinking we might find more food hidden somewhere…’
‘I had every drawer out and moved the chest, and the wardrobe,’ Pearl said. ‘It is perfectly clean now, Peggy. You would never know she’d been there.’
Peggy sighed. ‘I suppose it’s just because I know what she did.’
Pearl frowned. ‘Like Able said, it is over. We mustn’t let it get to us, Peggy.’
‘I know.’ Peggy beamed at her. ‘I was so lucky to find you, Pearl. If your mum hadn’t been working for Sheila, I would never have known how wonderful you are.’
Pearl blushed for pleasure. ‘Mum adores Sheila – and she’s happier than ever now she’s got a couple of shifts in the bar. We think we’re the lucky ones, to work for your family.’
‘Well, I’d better get on,’ Peggy nodded at her. ‘I’m cooking some pasties and savouries, also small cakes for a picnic basket for the Baker family. They’re taking the children to the park later today and then the zoo.’
‘Oh, I meant to say,’ Pearl remembered something. ‘My mother was asked if she would ask you – could you bake something for St Michael’s church fete this weekend? She told them you were busy but would ask…’
‘Yes, of course I will,’ Peggy said. ‘I’ve always baked for the various churches in the East End. They have so many good causes and I like to support them as much as I can.’ She smiled at a memory. ‘During the war, we always gave bits and pieces to the Church jumble sales and quite often I would buy them back, because there wasn’t much else I wanted, so I bought my own glass pots back at least twice.’
Pearl laughed. ‘Mum gives her old stuff to the jumble sale – but she never buys it back…’
‘Well—’ Peggy stopped mid-sentence as someone knocked at the door and then a stranger put his head round the door. ‘Hello – what may I do for you? Did you ring in reception?’
‘No, I came in the back way.’ He offered his hand. ‘I’m Sergeant Poole, Mrs Ronoscki. I doubt if you remember me, but I came to your pub a couple of times – after the bombing raids…? I was checking on the damage and whether anyone was hurt.’
‘Oh yes, I do just remember. You were asking if we were all safe when the all-clear went.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ he agreed. ‘I really wanted to see your husband – I had something I’d like to discuss with him if he’s around?’
‘I’m afraid he went out to see his architect,’ Peggy said and frowned. ‘Was it important – was it about Gillian?’
‘Yes, in a way – at least, I’m not sure. I don’t think that was her real name, Mrs Ronoscki – or may I call you Peggy? Everyone called you that at the pub…’
‘They still do,’ Peggy told him. ‘Have you found her?’
‘No, not yet – but I think I may have found someone who helped her before you. There was a report about a runaway girl—’ He hesitated, then, ‘I don’t want to say too much yet – but be careful, Peggy. If she comes back asking for help, don’t take her in, don’t trust her, just call us and we’ll be straight along. We need to talk to that young lady—’ He added: ‘—Men like Nate Parker deserve to be locked up in my opinion, but we can’t have people stabbing each other as the fancy takes them, even if it may have been deserved.’
‘Has she done something else?’ Peggy felt anxious.
‘Let us say we should like to eliminate her from our enquiries.’ He looked at her. ‘Please tell Mr Ronoscki that I should like a word – if he has time he might call in at the station and ask for me. I think he might be able to help me settle something in my mind.’
‘Are you sure I can’t help you?’ Peggy asked and he shook his head.
‘No, it’s your husband I need,’ he replied. ‘I shan’t take up any more of your time.’ He stopped and wrinkled his nose appreciatively. ‘Is that one of your famous apple pies I can smell cooking?’
‘Yes.’ Peggy bent down and took a tray from the oven. On the tray were a dozen individual pies. She slid one on to a paper tissue and handed it to him. ‘Don’t burn your mouth, sergeant, and you’re welcome to call and see us again.’
‘Thank you, Peggy.’ He beamed at her and went off with his prize.
Pearl looked at her and shook her head, a gleam of laughter mixed with affection in her eyes. ‘You never change, Peggy.’
‘Able wouldn’t want me to,’ Peggy said. ‘Besides, it was good of him to call and put us on alert. I doubt Gillian will come back here, but if she does, we mustn’t ask her in or let her beguile us again.’
Pearl nodded. ‘Just as long as you remember, we’ll be all right.’
Peggy smiled. ‘I think I’ve learned my lesson as far as that one
is concerned.’
13
Maureen looked at the saucy postcard and smiled. The two large ladies showing their drawers and paddling in the sea amused her as Shirley had known it would. The message on the back was brief, just a few words to say she was settling in well and enjoying herself.
Don’t worry, Mum. I’m fine and I’ll write when I have time. Love to you, Dad, Gordy and Mattie. Your loving Shirley.
Smiling, Maureen set it on the mantlepiece in the kitchen, where Gordon would be sure to see it when he got home from work. It was only a few weeks since Shirley had gone but seemed longer. Maureen missed her but knew she was enjoying herself because of her cards, letters and the occasional phone call.
She glanced at the clock. It was almost six and time to think about cooking their supper. Gordy and Mattie were both in bed, having enjoyed a tea of bread, spread with butter and thick home-made strawberry jam.
The afternoons dragged sometimes now, especially when Maureen had finished her shift making cakes in Sheila’s spotless kitchen. She helped out two afternoons a week in the shop, selling the cakes and serving tea, but with three of them to spilt the shifts and their regular help, it left Maureen with more time on her hands. She kept the house neat and tidy and scrubbed it right through once a week, but she hadn’t realised how much time she’d spent talking to Shirley when she was home and she was missing her a lot.
Sighing, she got on with peeling potatoes, chopping cabbage and peeling carrots to go with the fish pie she’d made first thing. That just needed popping into the oven to finish off and it would come out golden and brown on top as the butter melted into it. Her frown disappeared as she worked, because her husband would soon be home and they would spend time talking over his day at the grocery shop at the end of Mulberry Lane.
The shop had once been run by her father, but it had always belonged to Gran, her father’s mother, who had made sure that Maureen inherited it. Maureen’s stepmother hadn’t been too pleased when she heard about that, but after some arguments she’d taken herself off and they’d never heard from her again. Maureen had wanted to leave the shop and she’d enjoyed her time as a nurse at the start of the war, but then she’d married Gordon and he’d taken over her business, making it the little goldmine it was today. Gordon had a good head for business and he’d taken to shopkeeping like a duck to water, she thought with satisfaction, which was just as well, because his leg wound still caused him pain at times.
Gordon’s voice called to her as he opened the back door and entered, smiling and carrying a bunch of flowers. She smelled the fragrance of the lilies immediately and thought how pretty they were with their pink, striped petals and delicate stamens.
‘They are lovely,’ she said, a little surprised. ‘Are they for me?’
Gordon glanced over his shoulder. ‘I don’t see any other beautiful ladies round here.’
She laughed and went to kiss him. He didn’t often bring her flowers, but it pleased her when he did something like this and made her feel loved. ‘Thank you – but I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve them?’
‘I thought you looked a bit fed up this morning.’ His eyebrows quirked. ‘Missing Shirley?’
‘Yes,’ she agreed and put her arms around him. Gordon bent his head and kissed her. ‘I know it’s daft, but I keep wondering how she is getting on at that place she’s working at.’
‘She’ll cope,’ Gordon said. ‘We’ve taught her to stand up for herself and she won’t take any nonsense. ‘I told her that if she hates it, she’s to come home and I’ll give her money for college.’
‘I knew you would,’ Maureen said with a loving smile. ‘I think the whole idea is that she wants a bit of independence, time to be with Richard and other young folk.’
‘Yes, I know – and I’m not the one worrying,’ he said, laughing at her gently. ‘I was wondering whether you wanted a little holiday at the sea yourself, love?’
‘What about the shop?’ Maureen asked. ‘Rose can’t help out like she did last year – she gets too tired standing…’ Rose liked to serve in the shop when she could but seldom helped with cooking the cakes.
‘Well, Peggy says she will keep an eye on Millicent, the shop assistant, and Tom says he’ll pop in once a day and make sure that he helps if there’s any heavy boxes to move or unpack. Able said he wouldn’t mind doing a few hours on Saturday if the shop is busy…’
Maureen nodded happily. It was always that way in the lanes. Your friends were there to keep an eye on things for you and a little holiday would be just the thing for them all. ‘Yes, I’d enjoy that – but we shan’t intrude on Shirley, Gordon. I don’t want her to think we’re fussing or spying on her.’
‘I thought we might go to Ilfracombe,’ Gordon said. ‘I saw a picture of a lovely boarding house that looks just the sort of place we should like.’
‘How long have you been planning this?’ Maureen asked, poking him gently in the ribs.
‘Since Shirley left and I saw you looked a bit down,’ her husband said. ‘I rang and asked the landlady and she had the vacancy, so I booked it – we’re off this weekend.’
‘Well, that’s a wonderful surprise,’ Maureen said, hugging him. ‘You’re a nice man Gordon Hart.’
‘And you’re the best,’ he replied and kissed her. ‘I forbid you to worry about Shirley, love. She is fine, I’m sure of it.’
Shirley caught the smell of a different perfume as soon as she opened her bedroom door that evening. She frowned, because she was sure it wasn’t the lavender polish her landlady used. How could anyone else have got in here? Shirley was certain she’d locked her door when she left that morning – and yet it wasn’t the first time she’d felt someone had been in her room… someone who had no right to be there.
Her thoughts went to Rita, the girl she’d had trouble with a work. Rita’s attitude had got worse since her special customers had started to choose Shirley’s table instead of hers. Had she somehow sneaked in while Shirley was at work? And yet Rita always worked the same shift and she didn’t lodge anywhere near this boarding house.
Shirley went to her case and took it from under the bed. She’d locked it because all her spare money was in there and she’d wanted to be certain it was safe. The lock was still secure, but even as she prepared to put it back beneath the bed, she noticed the scratch on the brass casing and frowned. Someone had tried to force the lock but without success.
Clearly, it wasn’t safe to leave her money there. She left the case on the bed while she looked round the bedroom. Someone had definitely been in her things and she discovered that a little bead bracelet Richard had bought her a couple of days ago was missing. She’d left it on her dressing table, because it was of no great value, though precious to her. As she was about to search and see if anything else had gone, her landlady tapped the door and called out.
‘May I come in, Miss Hart?’
‘Yes of course, Mrs Raiment.’
‘Ah, I’m glad I caught you,’ the kindly woman said and smiled.
Shirley looked at her as she entered. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Nothing much – but you left your door open after you popped back this morning.’
‘I didn’t come back,’ Shirley told her. She frowned. ‘Someone has been in, though – a bracelet my boyfriend bought me has gone and whoever it was tried to get into my suitcase—’
‘You didn’t return?’ Mrs Raiment looked shocked. ‘I had gone shopping, but Letty thought it was you – the girl was wearing the same sort of uniform, just a black skirt and a white blouse, but she only glimpsed her going into your room. I noticed later that the door was open, so I locked it for you.’
‘Thank you – but it wasn’t me.’ Shirley frowned. ‘Is Letty sure the girl was wearing the same uniform?’
Mrs Raiment nodded. ‘That’s why she told me – she thought it was odd that you didn’t answer when she called out to you.’
‘It wasn’t me,’ Shirley said and bit her lip. ‘All my
spare money is in the suitcase – would you look after it for me please?’
‘Of course, I will, Shirley dear – but I’ll do better than that. My son is here and I’ll ask him to fit a new lock on the door straight away. Whoever did this must have got hold of a key to this room.’ She frowned thoughtfully. ‘I remember one of the girls didn’t give me the key back last summer. I made a note of which room it was and her name. I’ll check and then I’ll tell you, in case you know her.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll have a new lock fitted for you – and I might have all the rooms done. I can’t have that sort of thing going on…’
‘Thank you,’ Shirley said and smiled at her. ‘Richard is working late this evening, so I’m not going anywhere – would you like me to give you a hand in the kitchen?’
‘Haven’t you had enough after being on your feet all day?’ Mrs Raiment beamed at her. ‘Come and have a cup of tea and a bite to eat with us in the kitchen. You can help me wash up if you like, love – and I’m sorry you lost your bracelet. Would you like me to go to the police?’
‘Not unless your other guests have lost things,’ Shirley said. ‘It may be a girl at work who doesn’t like me…’
Mrs Raiment nodded. ‘Yes, I see – well, I’ve had several girls who work there staying with me other years, so it might well be… but I’ll have a look in my book and we’ll see. Make sure nothing else is missing and then come down to the kitchen and I may have some news for you.’
Shirley thanked her and she left. After a thorough search, she discovered that nothing else was missing, but one of her pretty dresses had been thrown down in a heap so that it had crumpled and would need ironing. Shirley hadn’t left it like that and it gave her a nasty feeling to know that someone had gone through her things and done that. Why – why would anyone do such a thing?