Stormy Days On Mulberry Lane

by Rosie Clarke

  Able had given Laura a cup of his coffee and she accepted one of Peggy’s almond cakes and Peggy told them Alice wasn’t able to get up.

  ‘I’ll make the pie and then take her elevenses up,’ she told Laura with a smile. ‘She isn’t really up to eating much and she likes sweet things.’

  ‘Are you sure I’m not in the way?’ Laura asked.

  ‘No – you can peel the spuds while I do the carrots and onions,’ Peggy invited and Laura nodded. She rolled up her sleeves and got to work and then watched as Peggy went through all the stages of her cookery and showed her the various dried herbs and spices that many Chinese and Indian shops in London sold. ‘This chilli is fresh off the market. I chop it up fine like this – just a sprinkling – and add it to the meat while it cooks. It just adds something, though I couldn’t tell you what. I’m not an expert on these things…’

  ‘I’d never seen it or heard of some of them,’ Laura admitted and copied the names down carefully. ‘Thank you. Can you add the same spices to other dishes?’

  ‘Quite possibly. I used it with the mince because what we got in the war was poor quality and it needed something to bring it alive – and this seemed to please most folk. I tried other things, but everyone likes this…’

  Laura nodded her understanding. ‘I’m going to leave you now to experiment myself at home. Thank you for sharing, Peggy, and I’d like to come over for lunch one weekend, when my mother can take over for me for a day or two. We could stay here as paying guests and I’ll show the kids some of the sights – but if you have a family member sick…?’

  ‘Alice is a very dear and old friend I had to live with me when I took over this place,’ Peggy said. ‘Even if she is still unwell, and I don’t think she will get much better now, you must still come – as long as you’re prepared to muck in and be one of the family. I promise I’ll use you to help with the cooking.’

  After Laura had gone, Pearl said she would clear up if Peggy wanted to spend some time with Alice, so she went up immediately and sat with her friend as she ate most of her small piece of pie and drank her tea. They talked for a while of the old days and Alice held her hand.

  ‘I told you about my husband dying after he was gassed in 1915, didn’t I? Not at once, of course – that was the worst of it, they died slowly. I was still in my thirties then and not bad-looking. I had quite a few men after me when I was first widowed, but most of ’em were only after a bit of how’s yer father and I weren’t interested – not until I met Alf.’ Alice gave a wicked chuckle. Now he was a knee-trembler that one – it was a pity he went orf to New York.’

  ‘Why didn’t you go with him if you had the chance, Alice?’

  ‘Lawks, but I’d ’ave been like a fish out of water over there, Peggy love. I knew my place was ’ere in the lanes, but I did miss him something rotten – until you had Janet. After that I had a new interest in my life and I never thought much about him, except on cold nights when I had no one to warm my feet on.’ She gave a wicked cackle of delight as she saw Peggy laughing. ‘Now that’s shocked you, ain’t it? Never knew I had it in me, did yer?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t doubt it, Alice,’ Peggy told her. ‘I’m sure you had some fun when you got the chance.’

  ‘It’s what life’s all about,’ Alice said. ‘You look after family and friends – but if you get the chance of a bit of fun, you take it, girl! Life is too damned short and when you start to look like a bag of bones, they don’t fancy yer no more.’

  Peggy couldn’t stop laughing. ‘Alice, you’re priceless. You really are!’

  ‘I like to see folk laugh,’ Alice told her. ‘We had enough sorrow in two wars, Peggy girl. We ’ave ter laugh or we’d cry.’

  It was true, Peggy reflected as she went down the stairs. Alice’s generation had endured so much hardship and misery. The First World War had taken most of a generation of men from their twenties to their mid-forties, also young boys, hardly men, who had lied about their ages to get into the Army because they wanted to fight for their country. Those that survived had a brief period of frivolity in the twenties to enjoy and then the depression hit, and just as it was beginning to lift, they’d been plunged into another terrible war and years of shortages. The country and its people were only just beginning to recover from what had been a terrible experience.

  How wise her friend was, Peggy thought; Alice knew that the only way to make the most of life was to laugh whatever it brought – and she was going to miss her like hell!

  Alice was no better the next day and Peggy could see that she was fading day by day. She spent as much time as she could with her, talking about old times, laughing at Alice’s jokes and feeding her towards the end of the week when she could no longer manage.

  ‘Please ask Maureen if she would like to go to the dinner with Gordon and apologise for me to the organisers,’ she told Able. ‘I’m not going to leave Alice, because if she looked for me and I wasn’t here I would never forgive myself.’

  Maureen tried to persuade her to let her take her place for one night, but Peggy refused. Alice was clinging to her more and more as the days passed and her life slowly slipped away.

  ‘No – but you go and tell me what it was like and who won.’

  ‘I’ll accept the first prize in your place,’ Maureen said, but Peggy shook her head. Even if she had won, they would change their minds and give it to someone else. Knowing that, she felt no regret, because it didn’t matter. Alice was her dear friend and she was dying…

  36

  ‘You should go, Mum,’ Janet said when she rang her on the morning of the gala dinner. ‘If I was there, I should make you.’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t, love,’ Peggy said determinedly. ‘Alice comes first – it’s just a silly prize-giving that’s all. I’d rather be here.’

  ‘Well, I suppose you know what is important to you, Mum. We’re all looking forward to Christmas here,’ Janet said. ‘Maggie and Ryan have been plotting something between them – what are you doing for Christmas? You’ll miss Sheila, won’t you?’

  ‘Sheila has delayed her departure until the fourteenth, so we’ll have a bit of a celebration with her and then we’ll have several friends for Christmas lunch. I shall miss all of you this year, but I’ll see you in the spring – see how my grandson is getting on…’

  ‘He’s wonderful, cries half the night, but Ryan is there before I can get out of bed.’

  Peggy laughed. It sounded as if Janet’s husband was besotted with his new son. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re all getting on well,’ she said. ‘Pip is doing well. He went off in a posh car driven by a chauffeur and is going to open the cottage up in advance of Sheila’s arrival – but my friend who lives next door says she will look in every day and make sure he is all right.’

  ‘That’s the one whose father has dementia, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, Sandra. She says it is fine now they’re living in her extension and her mother is home and able to talk to him.’

  ‘Good. Take care, Mum. Don’t overdo it – and I’ll be in touch soon.’

  ‘Thank you, darling. It was good to hear from you.’

  Peggy replaced the receiver and went upstairs to see how Alice was doing. She appeared to be sleeping, but that afternoon, Alice took a turn for the worse. Peggy called the doctor out and he gave their patient something to make her easier.

  Able looked in and saw Peggy sitting by the bed. ‘Maureen rang to say she’s getting ready to go – but are you certain you don’t want to?’ He glanced at Alice sadly. ‘She probably doesn’t know you’re there, hon.’

  ‘She does – and I’d know I’d left her.’ Peggy smiled. ‘Would you make me some coffee and keep me supplied?’

  ‘Of course.’ His eyes told her he loved her. ‘Whatever you want.’

  Alice woke at eight o’clock that evening. She opened her eyes and smiled at Peggy. ‘Haven’t you got anything better to do?’ she asked with something like her old spirit. ‘I reckon I’ll have a milk stout tonight,
Peggy…’ Her fingers closed briefly over Peggy’s and then she felt them slip away, just as the colour began to fade from the old lady’s cheeks, and knew she’d gone – just like that, on a breath of air.

  She looked so peaceful and happy lying there that Peggy just bent and kissed her. Suddenly, she knew that Alice was at peace, reunited with some of her loved ones perhaps, and the desperate sadness she’d felt as Alice fought for life had melted with that last breath.

  Peggy knew she had no need to feel sad because Alice had lived her life to the full. She’d loved and been loved and that was all anyone could ever ask for in this life.

  Able looked at her when she entered the kitchen. ‘She’s gone then, love?’

  ‘Yes,’ Peggy let out a sigh. ‘Very peaceful and happy…’

  ‘Would you like a brandy while I make the necessary calls?’

  ‘Yes, but stop and have one with me. Alice isn’t in any hurry now.’ Peggy smiled at him. ‘Don’t look so anxious, love. Alice wouldn’t want me to break my heart – she loved me. She is at peace now and she had a good life. I know it was the way she wanted to go with me beside her.’

  He nodded and poured them both a brandy, which they sipped. ‘To Alice and all the joy she brought,’ he said, lifting his glass.

  ‘To Alice…’ Peggy echoed and they both emptied their glass.

  Maureen arrived at half-past eleven that night. ‘I saw the lights and the ambulance so guessed what had happened,’ she said. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

  ‘Come and have a drink of coffee,’ Peggy said. ‘I don’t want to watch them take her away. I’d keep her here – and I’m having her brought back on the funeral day – but apparently, because I’m a guest house she has to go to the chapel of rest.’

  ‘Well, don’t let’s dwell on that – I suppose you want to know who they decided to give the prize to?’ Peggy nodded. ‘Her name was Laura Kennedy. She looked pleased when she accepted it, but later came and told me she was upset because she was second choice. Apparently, she won on her fancy cooking in the end, but you had been ahead by a mile on popularity points – but as you didn’t go, she got it…’

  ‘I’m really glad she got it, Maureen. She needs it and I like her,’ Peggy said.

  ‘Well, I told her not to worry, you would be happy for her, but she looked upset.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Peggy said. ‘I did what I thought right, what mattered to me and to Alice. I don’t even know who put me in for that competition…’

  ‘No one does,’ Maureen said. ‘I think it must have been one of your guests. Quite a few of them have been so complimentary about your cooking.’

  ‘Well, it’s over now, thank goodness,’ Peggy replied with a smile. ‘We’ll give Alice a good send-off, Maureen. I reckon folk in the lanes will all want to come – and I’ll give a party for her in the Pig & Whistle afterwards.’

  ‘Your parties are famous, Peggy, and Alice was well-liked, so we’re sure to have a good turnout. Well, I’ll keep you company until the ambulance has gone and then I’ll get off home. Gordon is there with the children now. Mrs Simpson will want to get home, too.’

  ‘Yes, I’d like that,’ Peggy replied, ‘though I’m fine now, Maureen. I was grieving all the time she was ill, but now… Alice looked so peaceful and happy. I think she must have found her way to those she loved and that made me realise we don’t need to break our hearts. We need to celebrate the friend that was Alice – and that’s what we’re going to do, in her funeral and afterwards at the pub.’

  ‘I’ll raise a cup to that,’ Maureen said and sipped her coffee. ‘Your Able certainly knows how to make this stuff. It will keep me awake, mind you, but I love it.’

  ‘He can drink it black, but I need cream and sugar,’ Peggy said. ‘Did they give out the names of the other recommended landladies?’

  ‘No, just the winner. Apparently, everyone else gets a runners-up certificate for their wall.’

  ‘Well, that’s fine,’ Peggy said. ‘Laura really deserved that prize for all the work she put in that day.’

  ‘But you were the public’s choice and that is what really counts.’

  It was early morning before Able and Peggy got to bed. She was up again at six to get ready for breakfasts, but as they only had three guests staying, none of whom required an evening meal, Peggy rested most of the day and Able fetched fish and chips for them all in the evening – a huge treat for the children, both of whom had shed tears for Granny Alice.

  The following day, Peggy was back at work in her kitchen, preparing cakes for the shop, when someone knocked at the kitchen door.

  Laura looked round the door, hesitantly, and then entered as Peggy smiled at her. ‘I stayed in London last night for the gala dinner and wanted to apologise for stealing what should have been yours,’ she said. ‘I’ve argued with them, Peggy, told them you didn’t come because you stayed by the bed of a dying friend – which in my book makes you a winner – but they wouldn’t change their minds. So, I’ve had this done…’ She placed a piece of cardboard on the table, which declared that Peggy Ronoscki was the joint winner of the Landlady of the Year 1950 and placed a cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds beside it. ‘I couldn’t make them reverse their decision, but I’m willing to share…’

  ‘That is lovely of you,’ Peggy said, ‘but I got my runners-up certificate and that is fine by me. And I shan’t take your money, Laura.’

  ‘Then I’ll give it to charity,’ Laura said. ‘I would feel awful if I took it when I knew it should be yours.’

  Peggy saw that she meant it and nodded. ‘Right, well, if you really mean that, there is something you can do, Laura…’

  ‘Just tell me,’ Laura said eagerly and so Peggy did.

  The funeral cortège stretched the length of Mulberry Lane and wound round the corner and down the next two lanes. Peggy hadn’t invited most of them to the funeral, but Alice had been so popular – more than any of them knew. More than five hundred local people turned out to attend Alice’s send-off and Peggy thought Mulberry Lane had probably never seen its like and probably would not again. Alice embodied all that was good during the war years and everyone loved her.

  Peggy opened the pub in the afternoon for the small reception, but the mourners filled the church and many of them turned up at the Pig & Whistle for the reception. Laura had contributed fifty pounds of her prize money for drinks and food and Peggy had supplied the rest. Laura was becoming a friend and, though could never be close because of the distance, they liked and appreciated each other.

  ‘I didn’t know Alice,’ Laura told her when she left to catch the train home, ‘but I can see how much she was loved and I feel privileged that you let me help…’

  It was a wonderful tribute to a much-loved lady and Alice would have adored it.

  One of the locals thumped out the old tunes that Alice had loved so much and had sung to them in the cellar during the bombing raids in the war.

  ‘She would have loved this,’ Maureen said as some of the old-timers did a knees-up and started singing and cracking jokes. ‘It’s a pity that lot over there came – I’ve never seen them before in my life.’ She indicated a small group of rather loud men that neither of them knew, though perhaps some had drunk in the Pig & Whistle.

  ‘Alice would’ve thought that a great joke,’ Peggy said and laughed. ‘We’ll have another little party later, just her closest friends, Maureen – but so many people said they wanted to come and I didn’t like to refuse…’

  Maureen nodded. ‘It was a wonderful send-off, Peggy – I’m going home now, but I’ll come back for the real party this evening.’

  Peggy stayed until the mass of the guests departed. Alice’s real friends went first and promised to come back to the Pig & Whistle that night and Peggy closed at five o’clock to get ready for it. She, Sheila, and Carla, who had asked Peggy if she could work for her permanently, had prepared the food earlier but kept it back, letting Laura prepare a lot of the food for Ali
ce’s send-off. Now they would have a party for her friends and regulars, with whom Alice had shared a large part of her life.

  Carla offered to do the clearing up. She was eager and industrious and Peggy had already agreed that she could work for her, because she didn’t mind what she did, shifts in the kitchen or the pub, and she was also a nice little cook, which meant Peggy could let her do some of the cooking for the cake shop.

  Leaving her to get on with it, Peggy and Able went home. The children were back from school and had eaten their tea, which Freddie told them was poached egg on toast and apple pie with cream. Able hadn’t wanted them to attend the funeral, because he thought they should keep their memories of Alice to the time she’d had with them and not a church where everyone was mourning her. They were happy and talking of school and friends.

  Fay told her mother that she’d had a letter from Robert. His parents were going to Switzerland for Christmas and he was being sent to his grandmother in London. ‘Could I ask him for Boxing Day, Mum?’ Fay asked and Peggy smiled.

  ‘Of course, you can, darling. You can both have friends whenever you like.’

  ‘Told you so,’ Freddie said, grinning at his sister, then, ‘Mum, I know Dad didn’t want us to come to the church because it was too sad, but we both loved Granny Alice. But can we come to the party tonight?’

  Peggy said they could come for an hour, which they both accepted and went off to dress smartly for what was a big occasion in their young lives.

  That evening began on a solemn note, but as friends talked of Alice and the past they had shared, remembering her antics in the cellar during the war, they started to laugh and soon they were all telling their own tales of her. Most of them were well remembered by Peggy, but some were new and it surprised her that Mr Grundy had known Alice when she was younger. He was sitting at a table with Tom Barton; Rose was helping with the food, and Tom’s children were being cared for by the daughter of one of his workmen for the evening. Mr Grundy had tucked into Peggy’s sausage rolls and was enjoying a pint when he suddenly announced, ‘I knew Alice before she got married.’ He spoke in a commanding voice that drew all those near enough to listen. ‘She was a looker in those days, I can tell you. I was just one of the East End lads to fancy her, but she married the butcher’s son and they would’ve been well off if it ’adn’t been fer that first war with the Hun…’