A Wedding at Mulberry Lane

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘He probably does,’ Peggy said fairly. ‘It’s your choice though, Maureen. I think you have to consider your options carefully. You know what happened before and if you don’t do as he asks…’

  ‘He’ll find someone else like last time?’ Maureen lifted her head. ‘If he loved me, surely he’d wait. There’s nothing stoppin’ him gettin’ a transfer to another hospital – one near me – why should it be me who has to give in all the time?’

  ‘I can’t answer that,’ Peggy said. ‘You’re the only one that knows what you really feel – but if it were me I’d make it clear that I wasn’t going to give my job up. If you let him dominate you, he might become a tyrant.’

  ‘Yes, and I’ve had enough of that…’ Maureen bit her lip. ‘I’ll have to think carefully, won’t I?’

  ‘Just take your time, love.’

  Maureen nodded and walked out of the kitchen, leaving through the back door and making her way from the pub yard.

  Peggy watched her go and her heart ached for her friend. Loving was never easy and Maureen had had more problems in her love life than most – but if it was down to Peggy, she would think very carefully before throwing up the job she liked to marry a man who seemed to think she was there just for his convenience…

  *

  Maureen walked back to Gran’s enjoying the warm sunshine. The streets around her looked dingy and forlorn, so many derelict buildings like skeletons against the sky, waiting for demolition, and the evidence of the heavy bombing everywhere, grass beginning to push its way through on some of the derelict sites, and billboards reminding them it was illegal to buy on the black market and exhorting women to go into the factories. When would this awful war end? According to the papers there was no end in sight, nor did it look good for the Allies; resources were running low and the country was staggering under the heavy burden of war. Maureen felt as if they were all trapped in an ongoing nightmare from which there was no escape. Her heart was heavy because she hated being at odds with Rory and it made her unhappy when they had a row. However, Rory was becoming very demanding and she’d begun to wonder whether she would be happy as his wife. She’d always worked and even when she’d been tied to her father, she’d clung to a measure of independence. Once she was married, Rory would expect her to be there all the time and if children came along it would be an end to her dreams of doing something different with her life, being more than her father thought she could be.

  Why did life have to be so difficult? Maureen was frowning as she ran across the street during a lull in the traffic, heading towards Gran’s. Sister Martin had given her two weeks leave but after eight days she’d had enough of shopping and doing nothing much. Gran liked having her there at night, but she would understand that Maureen felt she ought to be back at the hospital, where she was needed. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the young man who was staring at her until he put out a hand and touched her arm.

  ‘Maureen…’ She turned and gasped as she saw herself looking into Gordon’s smiling eyes.

  ‘Oh Gordon,’ she said and the swell of emotion nearly made her cry. ‘It’s so good to see you. I had no idea you were back home on leave.’

  ‘I’ve been given a few days before I go on a new training course,’ he said and looked at her intently. ‘They’ll be shippin’ me out again after… but it doesn’t matter about me. Somethin’ is upsettin’ you, love.’

  ‘Yes…’ She blinked hard. ‘How long have you got?’

  ‘As long as you need,’ he said. ‘I’m going down to see Shirley tomorrow but I have all afternoon and evening…’

  ‘Can we have a coffee and talk?’ she said. ‘I wrote to you about Sally but you probably haven’t got it…’ She swallowed a sob and took his arm. ‘It’s just so lovely to see you…’

  ‘Let’s have that coffee and this evening I’ll take you out for a meal,’ Gordon said and smiled at her. ‘You know I’m always there for you if you need me?’

  ‘Yes…’ Maureen smiled, feeling a little shy. She did know that Gordon cared for her and she’d learned to trust him, and through his letters to like him more and more. ‘It’s about whether I should give up my job…’

  *

  ‘It’s not my place to tell you whether you should marry Rory or not,’ Gordon told her, looking at her a little sadly as they sat over their coffee. ‘Only you know if you love him – but I would just ask you to be certain before you give up a job you enjoy. Nurses are needed badly just now and I think he should try to be a little bit understanding… but whatever happens, remember you have friends.’

  As she lay in bed later that night, Maureen’s thoughts returned to the talk they’d had and then the pleasant few hours she’d shared with Gordon that evening. They’d settled on fish and chips at a café and it had been lovely, just talking about Maureen’s work and Shirley, as well as all the gossip from the lanes. Gordon had walked her home afterwards. He’d given her a kiss on the cheek and looked into her eyes.

  ‘Don’t let anyone make you unhappy,’ he’d said and held her hand for a moment longer. ‘And don’t forget I’m always your friend.’

  Maureen sighed as she turned over in bed. Her emotions were tangled and twisted this way and that, unable to settle. If only Rory was as gentle and considerate as Gordon, how happy she would be…

  Chapter 16

  ‘You’re looking happy this morning,’ Peggy said as Anne entered the pub and came over to the bar. ‘Did you win the football pools?’

  Anne laughed and shook her head, her light brown hair falling attractively across her face because she’d had it cut shorter in a shaped bob. She was wearing a pretty yellow and white cotton dress and some strappy cream leather sandals with Cuban heels and looked very attractive.

  ‘No, something better than that – I’ve been given the task of setting up a new school. Well, the building isn’t new; it was an old warehouse, but it’s been tidied up and made habitable for the kids – and we’re hoping to open in time for the autumn term.’

  ‘Are there enough children in London to make it worthwhile?’ Peggy questioned.

  ‘More than you might think,’ Anne said cheerfully. ‘Most parents sent their children away before the bombing started, but it looks as if the Germans have forgotten about London for the moment. We may get the occasional raid, but not that awful blitz night after night. I think they’re busy on other fronts now, particularly in Russia – though a lot of the coastal towns are catching it instead of us.’ Anne looked thoughtful. ‘Quite a few children have returned to London, some under their own steam, others have been fetched back by parents who aren’t comfortable with their children being away from them… so we’re going to get this temporary school going…’

  ‘Right, that will keep you busy…’

  ‘I’ll be in London permanently and that’s what I want,’ Anne said. ‘I can still help you sometimes in the evenings – and there’s another reason I’d like to be here more…’

  Peggy nodded, a smile flicking at the corners of her mouth. ‘I thought there was something else… Come on, you have to tell me now. I’ll ask Janet to cover while we have a cuppa and a chat in the kitchen…’

  There were only two regulars sitting quietly in the corner and it was unlikely they would have a rush, because the beer delivery was late again and Peggy had a sign in the window to say there was none available. She sometimes thought it if were not for her food and the coffee Able supplied from time to time, she might as well close up for the duration. She wouldn’t be the first. Several public houses in the district had boarded up their premises and the landlords had retired or gone away for the duration. Peggy was determined to hang on to the bitter end, and her reasoning was that if others gave up there would eventually be more beer for her and her customers.

  Leading the way through to the kitchen, Peggy settled her friend with a cup of tea and a coconut bun she’d made that morning, having been fortunate enough to purchase some desiccated coconut at Maureen’s father’s sh
op. Peggy still kept it as her regular supplier, even though the service wasn’t as friendly and sometimes they seemed to run out of everything she needed.

  ‘Now tell me all of it…’ she said, because she could see that Anne was bursting to pass on her news.

  ‘I met him at the railway station,’ Anne said, bubbling over. ‘The train was packed and he gave up his seat for me and stood in the corridor until there was a vacant seat – and then we got talking…’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘He works for the Ministry of Food and he travels a lot, inspecting farms and abattoirs…’ Anne laughed. ‘I know, it sounds awful, but as John said, someone has to enforce the laws or we might not have enough to go round; then we would have riots and people fighting each other on the streets. Poor man, he says that he feels he’s public enemy number one – but it’s not his fault that rations are continually being cut. We’ve got to live within our means, Peggy – and there’s only so much our farmers can do…’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Peggy agreed. ‘I sometimes curse the Government for making it so hard these days, and I don’t know what I’d do if…’ she shook her head, because it wasn’t wise to talk about Able’s gifts too openly, even with a friend. ‘Well, as you say, it’s no one’s fault. We’ve all got to manage as best we can.’

  ‘Yes, it’s the only way.’ Anne looked thoughtful. ‘John says some people are making a fortune on the black market from stuff they’ve hidden from his ministry or stolen goods, but they’re going to crack down on the people who trade in goods like that…’

  ‘Well, I suppose they have to,’ Peggy felt vaguely uncomfortable, because some people might say that she was guilty of using black market goods – except that hers were a present. In her heart she knew that if she got caught selling American Bourbon she would probably be in for a heavy fine at least. Thank goodness there were only a couple of bottles left in the cellar… She would have to make sure that Able didn’t repeat his generous gesture in the future.

  Anne stopped for an hour and then went out the back way, leaving through the yard. Peggy frowned as she watched her friend walk away. She was sure Anne had no idea that Peggy had been using goods that might come under the heading of illegal. Morally, she felt no guilt at all at taking the gift, because Able had done it out of the goodness of his heart, to make up for the stock she’d lost when the bomb hit, but Peggy could just imagine what people would think if she got had up for trading on the black market. Some of them might wink and tell her they didn’t blame her, but others would definitely stop coming in.

  Able hadn’t been in for a couple of weeks and she was a bit anxious about him. He’d told her he would be away for a while, but she had an uneasy feeling that things were not as they should be. Yet she knew she was probably just being silly and overanxious. It was because he’d become so important to her and she wanted him around all the time.

  Peggy smiled to herself. At first she’d been nervous of giving up what she had, even though it was far from perfect, but since she had spent those few days with Able she knew he was what she wanted – and that was to be with the man she loved for the rest of her life. It was just finding a way to do that without ripping her children’s lives apart…

  *

  ‘What yer, Mr Ashley, are yer home fer good?’

  Laurence paused in the street as he saw the youth pulling a wooden crate on wheels that was just now filled with vegetables. It took a moment for him to recognise the lad, because he’d shot up in the past few months and looked older than his years.

  ‘Tommy Barton?’ he said. ‘Where did you get that lot from?’

  ‘Jim Stillman’s wife let me take over ’er ’usband’s allotment,’ Tom said and smiled his satisfaction. ‘I used to ’elp ’im sometimes and so his missus said if I give her some of the veg each week, I could keep the rest – I’m sellin’ this lot, and then I’ll take some ’ome fer Ma.’

  ‘Well done you,’ Laurence said. ‘I imagine Peggy will buy some from you if you ask her.’

  ‘She already has, thanks,’ Tom said. ‘This makes a big difference to me, Mr Ashley. I’ll be able to keep Ma in veg and sell the surplus – if they let me hang on to the allotment.’

  ‘Yes, that’s the problem,’ Laurence said. ‘You’re a bit young yet – but perhaps if Mrs Stillman agrees to keep it in her name, you can give her the rent for it.’

  ‘Good idea, thanks,’ Tom said and grinned at him, before starting off down the street to knock on doors and ask if anyone wanted any veg from his cart.

  Laurence paused outside the pub and looked at the door, noticing that it showed signs of damage and the beautiful stained glass had gone. He knew that the pub had suffered some damage in a raid in the early summer and cursed himself for not having had the rare glass taken out and stored below in the cellar, where it would have had more chance of surviving.

  As he pushed open the door and went in, he saw that a few regulars were sitting at the tables, but there was nowhere near the busy rush that had been the lunchtime norm before the war. Janet was serving a woman, wearing a turbaned headscarf, with a cup of tea and one of Peggy’s pasties. She glanced at him and frowned but then offered a slight smile when he approached the bar.

  ‘Hello, Dad,’ she said. ‘Does Mum know you’re coming today?’

  ‘I didn’t ring because I wasn’t sure until the last moment,’ he told her. ‘I was coming home a few weeks ago but then we had a flap on and all leave was cancelled. I’ve only got three days, but I thought I should make the effort…’

  ‘I should’ve thought you’d be pleased to come home, even if only for a few days…’ Janet threw him a challenging look. ‘Mum’s in the kitchen. She managed to get some fruit in the market and she’s making jam and crumbles…’

  ‘I’ll go through and surprise her,’ Laurence said. ‘I’ve got a box of stuff, which I think she’ll find useful in the car outside…’

  ‘Did you come by car?’ Janet questioned, her brows rising. ‘Where did that come from all of a sudden?’

  ‘I borrowed it from a friend,’ Laurence said. ‘He wasn’t using it for a few days so he said I could take it if I liked.’

  ‘That was good of him,’ Janet said and turned away to serve another young woman with a tomato and paste roll.

  Her tone sounded sceptical so Laurence ignored her and walked through to the kitchen, because although he’d forgiven her, there was still some resentment towards his daughter. Peggy wasn’t there, nor was she upstairs so he went out to the car and fetched in the farm foodstuffs he’d managed to buy. Two hares, fresh salmon, line caught by the same friend that had loaned him the car, some farm butter and a large punnet of gooseberries. He hoped to put a smile on his wife’s face with the gifts, because he’d come to a decision. The pub might not be doing so well while the war was on, but it was a good business and he didn’t want to lose it – or Peggy. She was an asset that he couldn’t afford to throw away, and now that he was feeling less bereft over Marie’s loss he knew he had to make it up with his wife.

  Just as he had finished unpacking the box, Peggy entered carrying two whisky bottles. She started as she saw Lawrence. Placing the bottles on the kitchen table, she turned to look at him, her expression puzzling him. He wasn’t sure whether he was welcome or not and frowned. Noticing she’d had her hair cut shorter, he thought she was looking younger, brighter.

  ‘Laurie, this is a surprise – when did you get back?’ She looked at him uncertainly. ‘You didn’t say you were coming.’

  ‘I couldn’t let you know because until the last minute I wasn’t sure…’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Peggy said. ‘You don’t have to ask, this is your home.’

  ‘Is it?’ he asked and saw her frown. ‘Have I turned you against me completely, Peggy – or is there still a chance for us?’

  ‘Do you want the truth?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Well… it depends on what you’re hoping for…’

  Laurence nodded, sucking in his breath
and then letting it out slowly. ‘I’m hoping we can go back to being husband and wife – and when the war is over I thought we might have a few holidays, maybe think about moving to a country pub like you always wanted…’

  ‘I’m not sure what I want at this moment,’ Peggy said and he saw that it was costing her to put her thoughts into words. ‘It’s too far off and too uncertain to talk about at the moment, but it’s over as far as our marriage is concerned. We might manage friends for now…’

  Laurence nodded, realising that he was pushing her too far too quickly. Peggy had been hurt and perhaps he was taking too much for granted. ‘Yes, I know you must think I’ve behaved badly…’

  Peggy shrugged but didn’t answer.

  He wondered what was behind the guilty looks at the bottles she’d brought up from the cellar and then he realised that the labels were American.

  ‘Where did this come from?’ he demanded, suddenly angry. ‘You damned fool! If you’ve been buying black market stuff you could lose me my licence…’

  ‘Able gave it to me,’ Peggy said defensively, ‘after we took that terrific hit on the pub. There was glass everywhere – bottles and glasses were lost. Able brought a whole load of stuff over but I don’t use it in the bar in those bottles. I take the labels off and decant it into one I’ve emptied…’

  ‘You should’ve refused it,’ Laurence said. ‘It might be construed as dealing even if no money changed hands… especially if there was a lot. Just how many bottles did he give you?’

  ‘About four boxes… as well as some foodstuffs,’ Peggy answered reluctantly. ‘I’ve already decided I’ll tell him not to do it again, but we’d lost a lot and he was just being thoughtful… considerate of me…’

  His eyes narrowed as he saw the guilt in her eyes. ‘Why should an American we hardly know be considerate of you?’ he asked, his anger mounting. He’d been thinking she was hurt because of what he’d done and he’d felt a bit mean, but now he understood that she’d retaliated in kind and it stung. He’d expected Peggy to be waiting for him to come back to her, not having an affair of her own. ‘You may not have paid him in money, Peggy – but what else have you given him? Surely you haven’t been that stupid? The man’s years younger than you; he’ll be laughing with his friends over how easy you were – just another silly English woman too ready to slip off her knickers for a few favours…’