Hot Pies on the Tram Car

by Sheila Newberry

  Take care, dear Florence, and thank you for keeping me as you did, that means a lot to me.

  Your affectionate Rose Marie.

  Manny didn’t hear the door close behind her. He crossed to the kitchen window and looked out. She was standing with two others, waiting for the tram. He saw the case at her side, on the pavement. It must be too heavy to hold for long, and he could surmise why.

  He turned, saw the letter. Despite seeing that it was addressed to Florence and not to both of them, he opened it with shaking hands. This was completely out of character. He read it through several times as if mesmerized, unsure what to do with it.

  The nurse came through into the kitchen. ‘Oh, Mr Manning,’ she enquired. ‘Is there any chance of a light breakfast and a large cup of tea for your wife?’

  Manny pushed the letter behind the clock on the mantelpiece, along with a couple of bills.

  ‘I’ll make something shortly,’ he said. ‘Is everything as it should be?’

  The nurse smiled. ‘Your wife is already worrying about how you will manage without her! I told her very firmly to stay where she was; she has to rest while she establishes the breastfeeding. Premature babies need a bit of coaxing, of course.’

  ‘We had thought of asking old Nan to come in daily to help with the chores, but we hadn’t got around to it,’ said Manny, looking embarrassed at the mention of breastfeeding.

  ‘That is an excellent idea. I shall, of course, deal with the baby’s laundry myself.’

  Fifteen minutes later, Manny carried the breakfast tray to Florence. She sat up in bed with a bemused expression on her face. She looked young and rather vulnerable this morning.

  ‘I’ll get the baby bathed while you eat in peace, and talk to your husband.’ Nurse scooped the baby up in her capable arms and departed with a crackling of starched apron.

  Manny placed the tray carefully on Florence’s knees. ‘Soft-boiled egg, I tapped the top, and fingers of bread and butter, like you used to do for Josefina – remember?’

  ‘Of course I do! I still miss her, but now we’ve got our little boy, we’re a family again!’

  ‘Florence, I’ve got something to tell you; you’re not to upset yourself,’ he began.

  Instantly, she showed alarm. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Rose Marie – she’s decided it’s best if she stays with Stella for a bit.’

  ‘Why?’ Florence put down her apostle spoon beside the eggcup.

  ‘Well,’ he invented. ‘She can’t do much to help, having to go out to work all day, and she seems to think it will be nice for us to be on our own, with the baby.’

  ‘Hardly that,’ she pointed out. ‘Nurse’ll be here for a fortnight. Not at nights, I know, but . . . there must be more to it than that. She’s still upset, I reckon.’

  Manny felt guilty as he thought of the letter behind the clock. ‘She’ll get over it.’

  ‘You’re right. Perhaps it’s for the best,’ she said unconvincingly. ‘I suppose I’d better eat up. I need my nourishment. The baby will need feeding after his bath. It means a lot to me, Manny, you know, to be able to nurse him myself. The first time, well, I had to get back to work, making pies and that. My milk dried up.’

  ‘You’ll have all the time you need to look after Flynn, I’m going to make sure of that. It’s only natural and right. I can see to the pies and the shop; Buck can work full-time. And I’m asking old Nan to come in daily, to do the chores – under your supervision, of course!’

  ‘You’re in charge, that’s obvious,’ she said, and her smile showed she didn’t mind at all.

  *

  Manny pinned the notice to the shop front. He’d already told Buck he’d got the day off, and about the baby’s unexpected arrival. He wondered if Buck had seen Rose Marie depart with her case, but he didn’t say.

  He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized it before: the only young man Florence would have known at the time Rose Marie was conceived was Buck, her father’s assistant in the pie shop. All the facts pointed to that. Maybe it was just as well Rose Marie had left here, before any probing began. Like Florence said, it was time to forgive and forget what had happened in the past. He must never reproach her, and he was determined he would never enlighten Buck.

  EIGHTEEN

  ‘ARE you feeling unwell, Rose Marie?’ Mrs Belling asked. She’d just popped into the small workroom with a ball gown which the owner had decided needed to be refashioned. ‘No hurry for this,’ she added. ‘Normally, I would have suggested the client look at our new range, but we’re all penny-pinching these days, it seems.’

  Rose Marie looked washed-out. She’d missed out on breakfast, but she didn’t feel like eating. Her mind was still in a turmoil after yesterday’s events.

  ‘My sister had her baby last night. I was wondering—she began hesitantly.

  Mrs Belling had her informant in the showroom. She already knew that Rose Marie had arrived this morning carrying a suitcase. Her protégée had been unsettled ever since she decided to get married this autumn. She sighed. Rose Marie had seemed to have a good career ahead of her, but . . . she hoped the girl wasn’t pregnant.

  ‘Take the day off, my dear. Tomorrow, too, if you need to. Your sister will be glad of your help, I’m sure.’

  ‘I’m going to stay with my other sister for a while,’ Rose Marie floundered. Did that sound heartless, leaving Florence in the lurch?

  ‘Ah, too much going on at home?’ Mrs Belling suggested tactfully. ‘You obviously need a rest from the domestic scene, and work is slow, so off you go.’

  Twenty minutes later, Rose Marie was on a bus to Bayswater, to the roomy terraced house in a pleasant area near one of the many public gardens.

  When Stella opened the door to her, still in her housecoat although it was gone half past nine, her eyes widened in surprise.

  ‘Rose Marie! What on earth—?’

  ‘You haven’t heard from Manny, then?’

  ‘Come in! I’m afraid I haven’t tidied up yet. Did you know that Jose is back with us? He took Josefina to school this morning, then he had shopping to do for me; I’m determined he pulls his weight here until he finds a job! Manny – why on earth would he telephone me?’

  ‘Florence had her baby last night. It’s a boy,’ Rose Marie said.

  ‘Oh, that’s good news, isn’t it? I didn’t know it was expected yet.’

  ‘It — he wasn’t.’ Her face crumpled. ‘Oh, Stella, I feel it’s my fault. I upset Florence, you see, but it was such a shock when she told me . . .’

  ‘Told you what? Sit down, do. I’ll put the kettle on. It appears you’ve come to stay?’

  ‘If you’ll have me!’ Rose Marie was crying now in relief.

  ‘Of course I will. Tea first, then let’s get the explanations over, before Jose returns.’

  ‘Now,’ Stella said, lighting her first cigarette of the day. Jose had encouraged her to take up the habit again, although she knew it was bad for her voice. ‘I’m listening, Rose Marie.’

  ‘Can I ask you a few questions first? It’s important.’ At Stella’s nod, she continued. ‘Do you remember your mother?’

  ‘Our mother, surely! Yes, of course I do. I was about Josefina’s age when she died.’

  ‘Do you remember me being born?’

  Stella hesitated. ‘Well, Father was very Victorian –children weren’t told about such things, they just had to accept them after they’d happened. I imagine I was kept out of the way until after the event. In fact, I believe I was sent to stay with an old aunt for a couple of weeks. When I came home, Mother showed me this little baby in a crib, and said it was my new sister. I was very put out! Florence sat me down and talked me round.’

  ‘Did she have much to do with the baby?’

  ‘Not then, she had Mother’s shop chores to do as well as her own. But after Mother died unexpectedly, well, Florence had to look after you and me, as well as make the pies, though Father employed a woman to help in the house and in the s
hop. After we lost Father, Florence was struggling to cope with it all, until Manny came.’

  ‘Stella, this is going to come as a shock to you, too. Florence is my real mother. Father, as you refer to him, although he was your stepfather, was actually my grandfather.’ Rose Marie was surprisingly calm as she stated this; it was Stella who dissolved into tears.

  ‘How could they think they were doing the right thing? What a mess!’

  ‘We’ll never know now. A lot to do with Father’s pride, I suppose.’ They both heard the key turning in the front door lock. ‘Jose’s back! Please, Stella, keep this to yourself, won’t you? It’s really just between Florence and me, after all, but maybe Manny knows . . .’

  ‘I must ring them. Congratulate them on the birth of the baby. Has he a name?’

  ‘Flynn, Manny’s choice, I think.’

  ‘I like it, don’t you? Just one more thing: what about Russ? Won’t you have to tell him?’

  ‘I’m going to call the wedding off,’ Rose Marie said flatly.

  ‘Hello, anyone at home?’ Jose called out from the hall.

  ‘In here,’ Stella answered. ‘A nice surprise – Rose Marie’s got a few days off; she’s come to stay with us. Unload the shopping, then you can take her case upstairs to Josefina’s room.’

  Jose was obviously delighted to have his pretty young sister-in-law around. Rose Marie, aware of Stella’s reaction to his flirting, realized that she couldn’t stay there too long. She excused herself after lunch saying she needed a nap, after a wakeful night.

  ‘I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed,’ Stella said, tight-lipped. ‘Take the spare bed by the window, Josefina sleeps on the one near the door. She’ll be back from school soon after four.’

  Rose Marie took off her shoes and lay down on the single bed. Although she was so tired, her mind was in too much of a turmoil for her to immediately succumb to sleep.

  How can I tell Russ? she thought. Do I have to? Can’t I just say I’ve changed my mind? He’ll be terribly hurt of course, but it’s all so complicated. Another difficult letter to write . . . She fell into an uneasy sleep.

  She woke with a start, wondering where she was. Josefina looked down at her, smiling, displaying new gaps in her teeth. She was holding Yvette’s French doll.

  ‘Oh, Rose Marie, we’re together again! I’ve missed you so much!’

  ‘Come here,’ Rose Marie held out her arms. ‘Not half as much as I missed you!’

  Later she said, ‘Did Mummy tell you about Florence and Manny’s little baby?’

  ‘Yes! It’s very exciting. We’re going over to see them on Saturday. I can hardly wait! Does that mean he’s my cousin? I get all mixed up with our family, sometimes!’

  ‘So do I . . . Look, you go downstairs and have your tea. I’ve a letter to write. You can show me where the postbox is, can’t you?’

  ‘ ’Course I can! See you in a while, then, Rose Marie.’

  Rose Marie unlocked her case, located her writing pad, envelopes and a stamp.

  Dear Russ,

  I don’t know how to tell you this, but I must. Please believe me when I say it is not in any way your fault, but I cannot marry you in September. Forgive me for not giving you the explanation you deserve. It is too painful for me to do so. I am staying with Stella for a while, but it will not be a permanent arrangement.

  I am devastated to let you down. There is no one else involved – I love you, that hasn’t changed – but I pray you will meet the right girl in the future.

  Please tell your mother and Sadie that I will miss them, too. I will, of course, return your ring. Please, I know I should do it myself but I can’t! Will you let the vicar know the wedding will not now take place.

  My darling, don’t think too badly of me.

  Your broken-hearted Rose Marie.

  ‘Russell, there’s a customer waiting,’ Mr Turbot-Watts reminded him. ‘What on earth is wrong with you today? That’s the second time I’ve had to tell you. You know I’m busy.’ He was sorting out his shelves of classic books.

  Russ had a dazed look on his face. He went obediently to enquire what it was the customer required. ‘Yes sir, I believe I can locate a copy for you. Why not have a browse round the shop meanwhile . . .’ The words came automatically.

  His employer had overheard. With a sigh, he abandoned his task and came over to whisper discreetly in Russ’s ear, ‘I know where to put my hands on it. Get busy with dusting the books on that chair, for me, will you?’

  Rose Marie’s letter, which had arrived by the early post back home, was in Russ’s inside jacket pocket. He didn’t need to take it out and read it again to know what it said. Like Rose Marie so recently, he was in a state of shock and disbelief.

  ‘Now,’ Elmo, as Russ had recently been invited to call him, said, as they closed the shop for their half-hour lunch break. ‘Feel like confiding in me, old boy? I don’t know much about affairs of the heart, that’s true, but I’m told I’m a good listener. I promise not to give advice unless you ask for it.’

  ‘Rose Marie has called the wedding off. I received a letter this morning. I couldn’t bring myself to tell my mother.’

  ‘That’s understandable. But, naturally, you must, as soon as possible.’ He cleared his throat, took a swig of tea, but left his favourite sandwich, sliced liver sausage on rye bread, untouched on the plate. ‘Is that unwanted advice? If so, I apologize.’

  ‘No, you’re right. I’ll tell her tonight. Rose Marie asks me to contact the vicar at St Mary’s, too. We have an appointment with him this Thursday evening, you see.’

  ‘Feel like telling me why this has come about? Lover’s quarrel?’

  Russ shook his head vehemently. ‘No! We spent the weekend together at my home. She did tell me privately that she was rather fed-up with all the wedding talk – my mother does keep on about it, I’m afraid. My sympathies were with Rose Marie. I told her so.’

  ‘Where is your fiancée? At the dress shop today?’

  ‘She is staying with her sister Stella in Bayswater. She is obviously not at work.’

  ‘Take the afternoon off, if you wish to visit, talk to her.’ Elmo’s bald pate glistened with his concern. ‘Don’t do it on an empty stomach. Eat your lunch, my boy.’

  After Russ had gone, Elmo decided, on impulse, to shut the shop for the afternoon. His other assistant, if he could be termed that nowadays, had not turned up for work this week. He thought he would call at Jacob’s room nearby and enquire after his health. He said to himself, ‘I suppose I worry more about my staff than most employers, because I have no immediate family. I care about my young assistant as if he was a favourite nephew, and I’m touched he looks up to me. But then, he has no father to talk to . . .’

  The news was not good regarding Jacob. His landlady had sent for the doctor.

  ‘Poor old chap, he set off for work yester as usual, then come back and said he’d lost his way. Now he don’t seem to know at all where he is. I suppose this means the infirmary. I can’t see him at the shop no more.’

  Elmo took out his round leather purse and handed her a gold coin. ‘Look after him, won’t you? Let me know if you need more.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I’ll keep you informed,’ she said.

  Walking back, idly looking at the competition from the other bookshops, Elmo mused, Jacob’s not the only one who’s lost his way. Russ will be devastated if Rose Marie has really changed her mind.

  *

  ‘I’m so sorry, Russ,’ Stella said helplessly, keeping him standing on the doorstep. ‘She won’t see you. She’s shut herself away upstairs.’

  ‘Can’t Florence do something, find out what’s wrong?’ he appealed.

  ‘Oh, I see you don’t know! Florence had her baby on Sunday night. She mustn’t be upset, at the moment. In a week or two, well, maybe she can help. What about your mother?’

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to tell her yet.’

  ‘Look, why don’t you go ho
me now and do just that? I’m afraid I’ll have to go, I have a pupil waiting for my attention.’

  As he turned to leave, Stella repeated, ‘I’m so sorry, Russ, so very sorry.’ She hesitated, then added, ‘Don’t do anything silly.’

  *

  ‘Don’t do anything silly,’ was said by the nurse to Florence, as she went off duty before lunch. ‘However, I can tell you intend to get out of bed the minute I close the door. Nan, I expect you to see she sits in her chair; does nothing except look after the baby. I’ll be back later on.’

  ‘I’ll do me best,’ Nan agreed. Manny was in the shop, and Nan had chicken soup bubbling gently on the stove. Nurse had insisted on a light but nourishing diet for her nursing mother. Just as well, Nan thought, tucking a stray wisp of hair beheath her mob cap, I brought my lot up on soup, lots of it, made from cheap odds and ends.

  Nurse was right. Florence appeared, still a trifle unsteady on her feet, so she sank gratefully into the chair Nan hastily pulled forward.

  ‘You’ve done a good job in here, Nan, thank you,’ she observed. ‘Soup smells good. I hope I get time to enjoy it before the boy wakes up.’ She hadn’t got quite used to calling him Flynn yet. It seemed a bit old for a baby, she thought.

  Nan handed over a little sheaf of papers. ‘Found these behind the clock when I dusted. Guess Manny stuffed ’em there and forgot ’em, eh? I didn’t read ’em,’ she added ingenuously. ‘ ’Cause I can’t read, you see.’

  ‘Bills!’ Florence sighed. ‘Manny can deal with those. What’s this, I wonder?’

  She read Rose Marie’s letter in silence. Why hadn’t Manny given it to her? She knew the answer, of course. He didn’t want to upset me, not now, she thought. She tucked the letter in her pocket.

  There was a wail from the bedroom.

  ‘His lordship,’ Nan said, eager to lift him out of the crib for a quick cuddle before she passed him on to his mother.

  Calm down, Florence told herself sternly. She’s had time to think about the situation. Russ and Stella between them, they’ll talk her round.