by Rosie Clarke
‘Yes, I don’t change much,’ Janet said, looking at how well the outfit suited her – or would when it fitted. ‘I’ve always been a size 12 and I shan’t settle for anything larger.’
Peggy smoothed her hips. She knew she’d put on a dress size since she’d married Able, but he made her so happy and he liked to see her eat the delicious food they served to others.
‘I’m going to try to lose a few pounds,’ she told her daughter. ‘You’re good at dieting, Janet – so tell me your secret…’
‘Just stick to fruit and salad for a few weeks – no apple pie or cream cakes.’ Janet smiled at her. ‘And leave Able’s pancakes for the children – if you really want to lose weight, but I think the extra few pounds suit you. You were a little too thin when you married him.’
‘You are a good daughter,’ Peggy said and laughed softly, ‘but I know I must put a stop to it before I get even bigger and then I shan’t get it off – so I’ll cut down on the rich foods and eat salads for a while.’
Janet nodded and looked at her own reflection. ‘I think this is the outfit I’d like, Mum – are you sure it isn’t too expensive?’
‘I intended to spend whatever I needed to,’ Peggy said. ‘I see you so seldom, and I’ve never really spoiled you. Maggie and Chris and the twins – but you and Pip never had as much. We just couldn’t afford to indulge you when you were kids. Laurie made a reasonable living from the pub, but we’re much better off now.’
‘Able is a good businessman,’ Janet said with a little laugh. ‘He enjoys speculating to make money, like with his new project. Ryan told me that your husband will end up a rich man one day.’
‘I don’t know much about his project,’ Peggy said. ‘He told me it is a block of flats for the professional classes, but that’s all I know. I glimpsed some plans at the start, but I can never see which way round they go…’
‘I doubt I would either,’ Janet agreed. ‘Able showed Ryan and he thinks they’re great – and buildings are a part of his work these days.’
‘I’ve never really known what Ryan does for a living…’
‘In the war, it was pretty hush-hush,’ Janet said, frowning. ‘He told me he sourced buildings for the Government, but I think it was more than that – he never spoke of it. Now, he is finding important old buildings and overseeing their preservation for various people. Some are public buildings and others belong to private families.’
‘That sounds really interesting,’ Peggy was intrigued. ‘It must take him all over the place?’
‘He visits various parts of Scotland, but often at the weekends if it’s a long distance, Maggie and I go with him. We walk and find somewhere to have tea and Ryan joins us later. He often used to stay over for a night or two in London, but now he comes home every evening, unless we’re with him.’
‘That’s why you look so happy these days – that and your gorgeous son…’
‘Yes.’ Janet’s face lit up. ‘I am happy, Mum. It took me a long time to settle and I think that it was partly my fault why we argued – but I always knew I loved him.’
‘And are you over Mike now?’ Mike, was Janet’s first husband, who had died of his war wounds.
‘Yes – yes, I am, Mum. I loved him and I’ll always be sad that he died the way he did, but life moves on. When I first married Ryan, it was probably because I wanted to be married and give Maggie a father, but now I’m truly happy and glad Ryan is my husband.’
‘We both had hard times, Janet. I loved your father when we married, but something happened. I don’t know whether we fell out of love slowly or if it was the war – but when he went away and, I knew he was unfaithful to me, it was finally over. I couldn’t make the break at the beginning, but in my heart, I knew.’
‘Yes, I know, Mum – and so does Pip. He was angry and resentful at the start, but he soon realised that our father had only himself to blame for the break-up.’
‘Sometimes I’m not sure he has ever forgiven me…’
‘Oh, he has,’ Janet said. ‘When he gets home, you should take the time to talk to him, Mum – away from Sheila and the family. Really talk and get to know each other again.’
Peggy nodded thoughtfully. ‘You were always close to your brother and he to you, I think….’
‘Yes, we get on well,’ Janet said. ‘He thinks the world of you, Mum, though he might not show it.’
Peggy bit her lip but didn’t reply. Her son had resented her when she married Able, though these days they were perfectly friendly – but there was an invisible barrier between them and Peggy wondered if it had been made worse because she could not visit him in hospital. He might think she’d neglected him because she didn’t care and not that she’d let Janet and Sheila go and taken on the responsibility for Sheila’s business on top of her own.
‘Shall we have tea somewhere nice?’ Peggy asked. ‘I’ve never ever done it – but let’s go to the Savoy Hotel.’
‘That’s a bit extravagant,’ Janet said, but her eyes sparkled and Peggy took her arm.
‘Come on, I’m treating – and it will be ages before we can do this again.’
‘Well, all right, but I feel utterly spoiled,’ Janet said and hugged her back. ‘If you’re certain you can afford it?’
‘Of course, I can,’ Peggy said. ‘I keep every penny I make in profit at the boarding house. Able makes his own money, he doesn’t need mine.’
‘So, with the underground damage due to the unexploded bomb that had to be excavated and the problem with getting the water supply in much further than we anticipated, I think we’re running one thousand pounds over budget,’ Tom Barton said as the two men sat in his office and discussed their joint project. ‘I don’t have five hundred pounds to put in, Able, or I would. I know we shall make a killing when we sell, but we’ve hit a few snags. I didn’t foresee it amounting to this much. I’m not sure what we do…’
‘Damn! Nor did I,’ Able admitted and frowned. It was a huge sum to run over by. ‘I’ve laid out quite a bit one way and another, Tom – and I don’t have the extra cash right now.’
‘We shan’t be able to finish the project without more money.’ Tom looked concerned. ‘What assets do you have? If you were willing to put up your house in Mulberry Lane – or the country cottage, I’m sure the bank would advance it to you…’
‘I put up the house as collateral at the start,’ Able said, feeling a gnawing anxiety as he realised what it could mean. Tom didn’t have the money; he’d made that plain at the start and Able wouldn’t expect him to find it. ‘The boarding house is free of debt – that’s Peggy’s and in her name, though she doesn’t know it. The cottage is too special to her and I’d hate to jeopardise it…’
‘Then where will we get the money?’ Tom ran nervous fingers through his hair.
‘At the moment, I have no idea,’ Able confessed. ‘I probably overspent on the boarding house and the investment I’ve made so far in the flats…’
‘But if we can’t meet our bills, we could lose the project—’
‘We shan’t do that,’ Able said decisively. ‘It’s either the boarding house or the cottage. I’m not sure what to do at this moment, but I shan’t let you down, Tom. I’ll find that thousand pounds somehow.’
‘Perhaps the bank would lend it to you?’
Again, Able shook his head. ‘I fear they won’t wish to loan me anything more unless I sell the cottage. I was offered fifteen hundred pounds for it a few months ago and perhaps I should take it.’
‘Couldn’t you raise a loan on the business – in Peggy’s name?’
‘If we hit another snag, she would lose everything—’ Able shook his head. ‘Much as I hate to do it, I think I shall have to let the cottage go.’
Tom nodded. ‘Well, it is very unfortunate, but you won’t use it that much now, will you?’
‘No, probably not,’ Able agreed. ‘Peggy is happy here – but she and the children were looking forward to having holidays there…’
Ab
le couldn’t explain that it would make him feel he’d failed if he had to sell the cottage. He’d had a choice, to make a quick profit, but he’d taken the option of building in the hope of doing even better. Now he was cursing himself for being all kinds of a fool. Building wasn’t as easy as he’d thought and they’d been unlucky with their first venture.
Smothering a sigh, he kept his thoughts to himself. He would do what he had to do, but it was a bitter pill…
29
‘Thank God they got most of those trapped miners out,’ Maureen said to her husband as she switched off the radio. ‘I couldn’t bear to think that they might die…’
‘Yes, that was a splendid rescue,’ her husband said, but sounded a bit distant.
‘Something wrong?’ she asked, but he smiled and shook his head.
‘Far from it. We’ve made a big profit this year,’ Gordon told Maureen when he finished adding up his takings. ‘People pop in for a loaf of bread and end up buying a new washing-up bowl or a set of china mugs.’
‘It’s the way you set the shop up so that people can walk round and look at things without having to ask,’ Maureen replied with a smile. ‘If they see something they like and feel the price is right, they just buy it. You’re good at business, Gordon.’
‘You gave me the opportunity,’ he said, looking up at her as he closed his ledgers. ‘The thing is, what shall we do with some of the spare money we’ve got?’
‘No idea,’ she murmured with a hint of mischief in her eyes. ‘When my father ran the shop, he claimed he hardly made enough to keep body and soul together.’
‘It wasn’t exactly true though,’ he reminded her. ‘He’d hidden his money away; it wasn’t as much as we’ve made, but it was a decent bit for you, Maureen.’
‘I always felt a bit guilty – if Violet had let us know where she was living, I should probably have shared it with her.’ Violet had been her father’s second wife, but her unpleasant behaviour had caused a breach and she’d disappeared after Maureen’s father died.
‘She didn’t deserve it,’ Gordon replied with a frown. ‘She married your father thinking that he owned the shop and it was Gran’s all the time.’
‘Yes, and Gran had no intention of letting Violet have a penny more than Dad left to her.’
‘She had her head on the right way,’ Gordon said. ‘Never mind Violet, what do we do with our money? Invest it, leave it earning interest – or put it into something for the children?’
‘How much money do we have now?’ Maureen knew that there was a little nest egg building somewhere, but she left all that stuff to her husband.
‘About six hundred pounds…’ Gordon looked pleased with himself. ‘We might buy another house and do it up a bit at a time – or split it between the three children.’
‘The children don’t need it yet,’ Maureen said. ‘Why don’t you hang on to it for a while and perhaps if any opportunity for investment comes up, we can get another business.’
‘What about a little dress shop for you?’ Gordon asked. ‘You might enjoy that, Maureen.’
‘Well, yes, I might, but I’m pretty busy as it is – and unless Peggy wanted to share it with me, it could be more work than fun.’
‘So, we could invest in a house to let?’
‘Yes, I like the idea of that,’ she agreed. ‘They’re more expensive than they were before the war and might rise in value over the years – the boys will both need homes of their own one day.’
‘Yes, it would be an investment for the future,’ Gordon agreed and smiled. ‘I’ll see what I can find…’
Peggy was looking pensive when Able got home that afternoon. He glanced at her, wondering what had made her so quiet and reflective.
‘Something wrong, hon?’ he asked.
‘Look at this,’ she said and handed him a letter. ‘This arrived by the second post… I’m not sure what to make of it…’
He frowned and picked up the letter, scanning it anxiously and then smiling. ‘It’s wonderful, Peggy, and you so deserve it.’
‘Well, it is nice that I’ve been put through to the last round of the landlady of the year competition – but they want me to go to the Savoy Hotel to cook a lunch. There are six other finalists – I mean, I’m not a fancy chef, Able. How could I ever compete with the kind of cooking they do at a hotel in the West End?’
‘I don’t think that is what they expect,’ Able said, reading it carefully. ‘You are asked to cook the kind of meal you would serve your guests and to make some kind of cake… There are more details on the next page.’ He looked again. ‘Yes. You should take a cake you’ve made at home, a pot of jam and marmalade and then cook the kind of meal you would serve for dinner.’
Peggy raised her eyes to his. ‘I’m not sure I want to, Able. I didn’t apply to enter this, someone did it without telling me. I would’ve written and told them I didn’t want to be included if I’d thought I’d have to do this…’
‘Just imagine how much publicity you’ll get for it if your name gets in the paper,’ he pointed out. ‘But if you don’t want to take part, ring this number here and tell them.’
She sighed doubtfully. ‘I suppose it would be good for the boarding house if I got a mention as one of the finalists.’ Peggy smiled at him. ‘Anyway, there’s one bit of good news. Fay has been entered in the beginners’ figure-skating championships. She is thrilled to bits.’
‘I should just think she would be,’ Able said. ‘When is that?’
‘In late November,’ Peggy replied smiling happily. ‘I had thought we might pop down to the cottage at school half-term, but now she’s entered in that, she’ll want to practice all the time. It may be ages before we can get down there again…’
‘Yes,’ he said and looked away. ‘It may well be a long time before we can get down to the country.’
‘We’re not going to use it much in future, Able.’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Able said and felt the ache of her disappointment when he had to tell her that, in another month or so, they would have to let the cottage go to pay for the extra expenses he had not foreseen.
Why the hell hadn’t he just taken his profit and called that it? Able knew that selling the house he rented in the lane would not cover his debts. He’d been so sure he would have more than sufficient to cover the project, but a couple of things had gone wrong and he’d found himself suddenly facing a shortage of funds. He knew it would be useless to approach the bank and therefore he had only one option…
Peggy got out her recipe books, wondering what she ought to cook for the competition. At first, she was reluctant to do it, but once Able had told her that he thought it was a good thing, she’d known she would go ahead – but what should she make? She glanced through recipes with fancy French names that needed lashings of eggs, butter and cream, as well as the best cuts of meat or fish, but she was pretty certain that all the other competitors would do something of that kind.
Flicking back through the book she’d written up herself for years, Peggy found all her old recipes from the war. She recalled the way her customers had loved the food she’d provided and had told her it was as good as anything they’d eaten before the war. Smiling, she nodded to herself. During the war, it had been difficult to get everything she needed, but now she could use that little bit extra butter and cream, though not excessive amounts.
Yes, she thought to herself as her eye alighted on a favourite with all her customers. She would remain true to herself and make a dish she could produce with her eyes shut. A slightly spicy shepherd’s pie with buttered cabbage and carrots, followed by apple pie with cinnamon and cream or home-made custard. She wouldn’t win the competition, but she’d never thought about entering anyway.
Peggy smiled to herself. She would call it Peggy’s wartime pie and not try to be anything she wasn’t. She was Peggy of Mulberry Lane and that was all she wanted to be.
‘I don’t know how Gordon has managed it,’ Maureen said when the two of them g
ot together in Sheila’s kitchen that morning. ‘I could never manage to do more than keep the shop ticking over, but he has saved six hundred pounds. I think he is going to buy a house somewhere near us, to rent out – for the future for the boys.’
‘He must be pleased with himself,’ Peggy said, looking at her friend affectionately. ‘When you remember how it used to be, there were times when we hardly knew where the next penny was coming from.’
‘I certainly didn’t when I had to leave nursing,’ Maureen said. ‘I wondered how I’d get through until Gordon asked me to marry him.’
‘You’ve never regretted it, have you?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ Maureen said and smiled. ‘You don’t regret yours to Able, do you?’
‘Never!’ Peggy said fervently. ‘I want your opinion on my menu for the last round of the competition…’ She handed Maureen the list she’d written and saw the look of surprise on her face and then she smiled.
‘Everyone loved these in the war,’ she said. ‘It’s you, Peggy. It’s what you do best.’
‘Yes, I loved what we did in the war,’ Peggy agreed. ‘We had to make the most of what we had and all the meals I cook now are based on the same principles. If I did something fancy, it just wouldn’t be me. Simple food perfectly cooked is what I provide. I have too much going on to mess about with something fancy anyway.’
‘Why should you do anything other than your normal lovely food?’ Maureen put down her rolling pin and came round the table to hug her. ‘Stay true to yourself, love, though I know you can when you put your mind to it.’