A Wedding at Mulberry Lane
Page 11
‘Oh, Sally love,’ Maureen said. ‘It sounds as if we’ve got more in common than we realised…’ She sighed deeply. ‘I walked out when my father got himself another wife, but it didn’t stop me feeling guilty.’
Sally nodded and squeezed her waist, because she understood so well what Maureen had gone through all those years.
‘How was Rory?’
‘He was having treatment this morning so I only got a few minutes with him.’ Maureen looked sad. ‘He wasn’t happy because he wants me to ask for a transfer back to London – or better still give up my job…’
‘After all the training we’ve done?’ Sally cried. ‘Not bloomin’ likely! My father never wanted me to work. He thought I should stay at home and help my mother, but I couldn’t have lived there alone with them after Billy joined up – and now I can’t even bear being in the house with my father.’
‘I don’t think he liked me. I think he was annoyed that you took me home, Sally.’
‘Next time we come we’ll go and stay with Peggy. She said we could – if she meant it…?’
‘Of course she did,’ Maureen laughed. ‘I told you Peggy would love you, didn’t I? She’s always been the same – has lots of friends and she makes them all welcome.’
‘That was obvious last night,’ Sally said. ‘I was frightened during the raid but afterwards – well, it was lovely the way everyone got together to help. Peggy cooked us that lovely breakfast and everyone stood about her kitchen, eating their food with a fork. It was a nice atmosphere, almost like Christmas despite what had happened.’
‘You must come to her Christmas party next time,’ Maureen said and then the smile left her eyes, because it was months away and who knew what might happen in the meantime? ‘I just hope the pub will still be there. It was close last night, Sally. That house in the lane – just smouldering rubble when we left this morning. It was a lawyer’s office, though no one ever seemed to use it, but it could have been anyone’s home: Dad’s shop or the cobblers’ or Mrs Tandy’s wool shop. I can’t imagine life without Peggy’s pub; it has always been there…’
‘Yes…’ Sally nodded grimly and shifted her parcels. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Come on, I’m getting us a taxi…’
Chapter 11
‘They’ve given me a grant down the council, to buy a few bits,’ Nellie said as she entered the kitchen that morning, bringing a blast of cool air with her. It was early summer but an easterly wind was blowing and it felt cold out, or perhaps that was because Peggy’s kitchen was so warm. ‘You’re like a furnace in here…’ Nellie peeled off her coat and scarf.
‘Yes, I know. Sometimes I think I should’ve let Laurie put the gas cooker in for me, but the range is reliable – and it’s too cool outside to have the door open for long.’
‘I see they’ve got the glass back in the pub windows again,’ Nellie said. ‘I sometimes wonder if we shouldn’t just board everything over for the duration.’
‘I was tempted to just leave the boards up, but people kept asking me if we were open,’ Peggy said and laughed. ‘I can’t replace the coloured glass in the door for love or money. That was Victorian and Laurie was that proud of it…’ she sighed. ‘He thought about having it removed and stored safely but he didn’t get around to it and now it’s gone – such a shame.’
‘Yes, that was a lovely bit of work,’ Nellie agreed. ‘I went down the housing too, Peggy, and asked what chance I had of getting a house and they said none at all. If the kids were at home they would put me higher on the list, but as it is all I can hope for is a room. I’ll start looking when it turns a bit warmer; it’s cool for May, isn’t it?’
‘Very, but the forecast says warmer tomorrow.’ She smiled at Nellie. ‘I know you want your own home, love, but you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like…’
‘If you’re sure. They’ve got me name on the list if an empty ’ouse comes vacant, but there’s too many piles of rubble where ’ouses used ter be, and there’s only one of me these days. Them with a family need it more…’
‘You’ve plenty of time to find somewhere else,’ Peggy said and bent to take a pie from the oven. ‘I feel awful because this is the first time I just haven’t had anything to offer as a sweet but a jam tart. Maureen used to put me some golden syrup by whenever she got it in, but now I have to queue when they’ve got some and unless Janet goes for me, I don’t have the time…’
Nellie smiled and reached for her bag. She withdrew a large tin of the precious syrup and placed it on the table. ‘I just happened to see the notice going up in the window and I was first in. Violet Jackson was serving and would only let me have the one, but if Janet goes down this afternoon she might get another…’
‘Bless you,’ Peggy said. ‘I’ll ask her if she’s goin’ shoppin’, if not I’ll pop along myself and see what’s on offer…’
‘Mum…’ Janet’s voice from the doorway drew their attention. ‘Your American friend is here and he’s got something for you – his friends are carting it in now…’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ Peggy was startled. Able had been in twice since the bomb had caused so much devastation and he’d hinted that he might be able to replace some of the stock they’d lost, but when she hurried through to the bar she was astonished to see that four large boxes stood on the wooden counter and another two on the floor. ‘Able… what’s all this?’ she asked.
‘My pals and I had a chat with a few others and decided to see what we could find for you, Peggy. I hope you can use some of this stuff…’
Peggy smiled at the two young men with him, thanking them for their gifts. She received a big grin in return as they left.
‘Able, you shouldn’t have done all this…’ Peggy said as she discovered that some of the boxes had bottles of wines and spirits, all with American labels, as had the bags of coffee beans and the tins of food and black treacle, jam in professional-size tins and sugar in strong brown bags. ‘Where on earth did it come from?’
‘From our stores,’ Able said easily. ‘We all get extra over here – they tell us we can give some to British friends; of course we’re not allowed to sell it, but this wasn’t all mine. I had some help…’
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ Peggy said. ‘You must invite your friends here and I’ll give them a few drinks and some food one night – I can’t believe what you’ve done…’
‘I knew it must have caused you a problem when I saw the damage,’ Able said. ‘You’re not offended or annoyed with me, hon?’
‘How could I be after such generosity?’ Peggy went round from behind the counter and kissed him softly on the lips. ‘You’re a lovely man, Able, and I’m very grateful – but I’m not sure I can take all this stuff…’
‘Sure you can,’ he said and grinned and reached for her as she moved away. ‘Don’t think this was a bribe, but I have to go away this weekend – and I wondered if we could go somewhere tonight?’
‘Yes, I’m sure I can swing it,’ Peggy said and laughed as she realised she was using his language these days. ‘Anne is home for the next month or so. I was thinking we might…’ she broke off and blushed.
‘Maybe go away ourselves next weekend?’ he asked and she nodded. ‘I’d like that fine, Peggy. Do you want me to carry some of this down to the cellar?’
‘Yes, I think that’s the safest place for it,’ Peggy said. I’ll take these tins through to the kitchen and then I shall have to open the bar…’
*
Peggy looked at her full shelves and knew she had the ingredients to make tasty pastries and cakes for her customers for a couple of weeks or more. Able’s gift was a huge help to her, because it was getting harder and harder to find the things she liked to buy; he was so generous and she really appreciated that he’d gone to so much trouble for her. British convoys were taking a battering on the Atlantic run, many of them being sunk by German U-boats, because there just weren’t enough escort ships to protect them, and the shops often had very little t
o offer these days other than home-produced goods. A few of the ingredients Able had given her were strange to Peggy, but she’d read the labels and knew she could make something out of them, even though peanut butter and blueberry jelly sounded very different to her English ears. She was a little concerned about the bottles of spirits and wine that Able had brought. The papers were filled with warnings about black market goods now, and though Peggy hadn’t done anything illegal, she might have difficulty in explaining where they’d come from if she had a sudden inspection.
She’d dragged the boxes behind the partition that had hidden Laurie’s secret stock. He’d had invoices for his wines and spirits, bought long before the war, so Peggy had never worried that someone might find them, but the American stuff might be frowned on. Perhaps it might be a good thing to keep her empty bottles from the bar and refill them down here rather than take the risk of someone noticing the different labels and reporting her.
Peggy knew that most of her customers were loyal, but the war had hardened attitudes and people were now telling on those they suspected of selling black market stuff, something no one round here would have done before the war. Everyone was finding life hard and Peggy understood that some found it more difficult to produce anything worthwhile with the rations they all got. She’d had one or two women ask her how she managed to cook something that tasted so good with what was available, but they didn’t know how many hours she spent experimenting before she introduced a new dish.
Able’s gift was very useful, because she’d lost so much in the raid, but not if it brought the law down on her head, because she was sure they would never believe that he’d given her so much. She would be accused of trading on the black market and she would be fined – she could even be arrested and might end up serving a few days in prison. Peggy decided that she would have to make certain that Able’s generous gesture wasn’t repeated…
*
‘I found this in one of the tea chests,’ Tommy said, bringing Peggy a fine cup and saucer and tea plate later that morning. ‘There’s a set of twelve of everything, a teapot and stand, milk jug and covered sugar – and I reckon there’s a nice dinner service in one of the other tea chests. Do you want me to bring it all down and wash it for you?’
‘Yes, please,’ Peggy looked at the tea service. ‘This is so pretty – I think it’s Shelly ware. Yes, it is. I remember my grandmother had a set once, but half of hers got broken. I had no idea this was up there.’
‘I think there’s a lot more good stuff too,’ Tommy said. ‘I’ve only unpacked three of the chests yet, but I think there’s more china – some of it looks real bright colours and there might be some silver too. I ain’t sure ’cos it could just be silver plate.’
‘Even that would be nice,’ Peggy said. ‘All these years and we never had any idea what was in those boxes. They belonged to Laurie’s uncle’s wife’s family I think. Laurie looked in one and it was just books.’
‘Yeah, I found the books an’ all, but I reckon they’re all spoiled – they smell damp and the pages are spotted.’
‘We’ll sort the china out first. I can always use more of that, and Janet could do with some things if she ever gets her own home – Nellie too.’ Peggy smiled at him. ‘You’re doin’ a really good job up there, Tom. Found anythin’ else of use?’
‘Well, there are some rolls of wallpaper – enough to do one of the bedrooms I should think…’
‘Ah yes, that pretty pink floral pattern. I bought it two years ago but Laurie didn’t like it…’ Peggy was thoughtful. ‘I wouldn’t mind havin’ it up in my bedroom now if I could find someone to do it – better than wasting it.’
‘My dad showed me how. I helped him paper Ma’s front room before he got banged up,’ Tom said. ‘I reckon I could do it, Peggy – and I saw some sweeps’ brushes up there. I thought I might clean Ma’s chimneys if I could borrow them.’
‘Quite the handyman,’ Peggy smiled oddly. ‘You can paper my bedroom and I’ll need my chimneys done soon. Practise on your Ma’s first and then you can do mine.’
Tommy laughed. ‘Ma was moanin’ about hers, so I reckon she’ll be glad fer me to have a go.’
‘Just remember to put plenty of paper down everywhere,’ Peggy said. ‘Soot makes a lot of mess…’
‘Yeah, I remember when me dad did it last time,’ Tommy grinned. ‘I shan’t make much worse mess than he did. Ma give him ’ell over it fer weeks.’
‘Well, just make sure she doesn’t take her stick to you,’ Peggy teased. ‘Fetch that tea service down then, and I’ll give you a slice of pie and a glass of squash…’
*
Janet sighed as she looked at the letter that had just arrived. It had come from the hospital and she’d hoped it was from Mike, but instead the ward sister had written to her. Brief and to the point, it said that he was improving health wise, but as far as his mental state was concerned he had not changed.
I realise this is a terrible period for you. However, I must ask you to be patient and wait for a little longer before coming down. Doctor did suggest a visit, but when Mike was asked he became angry and confused. Therefore may I please ask that you refrain from visiting again this month? Yours sincerely, Sister Monica James.
Janet placed the letter in the file she’d kept. At first she’d felt like throwing the letters straight in the bin, but something had made her save them. She didn’t know why, because it hurt like hell to be told Mike hadn’t wanted to see her…again. Surely he must have come to terms with the fact that he had a wife and child by now?
What should she do about the situation? Mike seemed to be trying to push her away, and the nurse at the hospital was blaming her for his distress. Would it be better to just walk away and move on with her life for all their sakes or should she fight for her marriage and the man she loved?
Feeling restless, Janet reached for Maggie’s warmest coat and put it on her. The pushchair was downstairs in a little cubbyhole off the kitchen and she would wrap the child up warm and take her for a walk. The warden’s men had been round to repair the pavements recently, because it had been difficult to walk after all the bomb damage. Now it was possible to take the chair out again and she would walk down as far as the church, where there was a small green space known as Itchy Park, because the down and outs had once gathered there and locals said the kids picked up fleas if they played there.
Her mother was in the kitchen preparing to take some food through to the bar. She asked if Janet would fetch a couple of things from the shop on her way back and gave her the ration cards, warning her that Nellie said there was still a chill even though the sun was inviting.
‘We’ll both wrap up warm, Mum,’ Janet said and looked at her lovingly. She was lucky to have a mum like Peggy Ashley and knew it helped to make up for the pain of Mike’s latest rejection, though she didn’t know how much longer she could stay away when she needed to see him so badly.
Janet felt better for being out in the fresh air and some exercise. She met some other young mothers and stopped to have a chat about each other’s babies and how difficult it was to get new clothes for children in the shops. Janet felt a little guilty because of all the wonderful baby clothes Ryan had sent her, though Maggie had grown out of most of them and Janet needed to make new ones.
Lingering in front of a fashionable clothes shop, she saw a display of new Viyella dresses in the window. They were all very much alike with a collar, short sleeves, buttons down the front bodice and a belt. However, there was one that looked rather smart in a green and red tartan and Janet was very tempted. Perhaps she would come back tomorrow and try it on… for the moment she wanted to visit the market and see if she could find any toys for Maggie.
She wanted to make sure her daughter had a happy life – but surely she needed her father. Janet’s mouth tightened to a determined line. Mike was her husband and Maggie’s father and she wasn’t going to let some nurse who hardly knew him tell her what to do!
Chapter 12
Maureen had just collected three letters from the office, which she flicked through eagerly, hoping for something from Rory. One was from Shirley; her childish scrawl was easy to pick out, even though her new school had improved her writing. She was seven now and seemed happy enough, her brief letter mostly a thank you note for some sweets and crayons Maureen had sent. The second letter was a cheerful one from Gran and the third from Gordon. He’d written to tell her that he was now overseas with the British troops, but the exact location had been heavily scored out in blue pencil.
It’s pretty awful here, Maureen. I expected it to be basic, but the conditions…
The next few words had been scored by the censor.
Still I suppose we manage all right, at least we get fed regularly and your letters are a godsend. Thanks for the cigarettes you sent and the mint humbugs. You shouldn’t spend your money on me and Shirley, but if I’m honest I don’t think I’d keep sane without them. You darling girls really don’t know how much a letter from home and a gift means to us out here.
I dream of being home again and I often think of that day we took Shirley to feed the ducks… and then the car broke down on the way home. I think of you an awful lot, Maureen, and I wish I’d let you see how much you’ve come to mean to me. I know there’s someone else but if he ever lets you down… but I know it isn’t likely. Any man who was lucky enough to have your love would be a fool to let it slip.