by Rosie Clarke
‘That might not be easy…’ Peggy thought for a moment, and then nodded. ‘Mavis Basset is considerin’ takin’ on a lodger. She lives right opposite to Jackson’s shop at number twelve.’ Peggy looked sad. ‘She lost two sons to this war and a husband to the last, poor woman, though he didn’t die during the war, but slowly afterwards of the mustard gas. I think she suffered through his illnesses for years – as he did, of course. There is a married daughter but she moved away and Mavis only sees her a few times a year. She asked me if I could give her a job and I said she could help me in the bar in the mornings, wipin’ down tables and washin’ glasses…’ Breathing deeply, Peggy decided she might as well tell her friend. ‘I’ll need more help soon, because I’m pregnant…’
‘Peggy! That’s a bit of a shock, isn’t it – or have you been trying?’ Anne looked startled.
‘Let’s say it was a surprise – but a pleasant one,’ Peggy said. ‘I thought there was no chance of it happenin’ after all these years…’
‘It must have been the change of air,’ Anne said, clearly thinking that Laurie was the father. ‘It’s given him a new lease of life…’
‘Yes…’ Peggy didn’t meet her friend’s eyes, because she couldn’t tell Anne the truth. Anne knew nothing of her brief affair with Able and Peggy thought it better that only those who had to know were told the truth. She hadn’t even told Nellie that it was Able’s child, though those wise old eyes saw more than most and she knew Nellie would never condemn her. ‘Perhaps – anyway, I’m happy about it. Janet’s husband will be comin’ home in a few weeks and as soon as they can get a house of their own they will move out…’
‘You’ll miss her company,’ Anne said, ‘but I doubt they’ll be lucky enough to get anything around here for a while.’
‘One of my customers was tellin’ me the Government are goin’ to build some temporary houses – prefabs they’re callin’ them. They go up quick and don’t cost much, because they’re not bricks and mortar…’
‘Yes, I’ve heard about them,’ Anne agreed. ‘They will be further out I expect, in the suburbs. Janet wouldn’t want to go out there, would she?’
‘I doubt it. Nellie says she wouldn’t have one if they paid her,’ Peggy said with a laugh. ‘She’s been lookin’ for weeks, though I’ve told her she can stay with me for as long as she likes. I’ve got a room here you could have, Anne, but Mavis would probably let you have two if you wanted. You could have a sittin’ room and bedroom, and make your own tea on a gas ring…’
‘I’ve got an electric kettle; it’s one of the new Russell Hobbs’ ceramic kettles and works really well,’ Anne said and hesitated. ‘I might only need a room for a while, because I might move into my uncle’s flat. As you know, my uncle is ill and they’ve taken him into the infirmary. I don’t know what will happen to his place if he never comes back – and I don’t really see how he can. He’s had a woman in to clean for him since my aunt died, but she says he doesn’t eat properly and she doesn’t have the time to look after him… so I might move in to keep things right until he asks someone to sell it.’
‘Percy was the same after Mum died. I went round and did what I could for him, but it’s the loneliness – men aren’t good at copin’ alone. Women manage it much better, or most of them do. Mavis is bearin’ up well at the moment. Why don’t you pop in and see her before you go home, Anne? It would be nice havin’ you in the lane – we could see each other more often.’
‘Yes, I will,’ Anne said, ‘and don’t forget, I’ll help out with Shirley so Maureen doesn’t have to give up her work and come back…’
*
Peggy stared at Laurie’s letter for a full five minutes before opening it. Her stomach clenched as she considered what she would do if he told her he wanted her out of the pub. The relief flowed over her as she read the rather cold, controlled letter.
What do you expect me to say? I can’t pretend to be anything but angry, but I suppose it isn’t the end of the world and I know there is no point in asking you to get rid of the child. So we shall just have to make the best of things. Fortunately, I’m not likely to be around much for a while, though I’ll come and see you when the baby is born if you let me know – and, naturally, I expect you to keep the truth to yourself. If we’re going to live together it’s the only way. Of course, we’ll stick to separate rooms.
He’d signed his name without any form of affection and Peggy understood that he was seriously upset, but she hadn’t expected anything else. She’d thought he might want her to leave, but it seemed that Laurie valued her as a landlady and a cook if nothing more. It sounded as though he was reconciled to living separate lives as long as she was discreet and didn’t tell anyone that she was carrying the child of her American lover.
Peggy felt the chill at the back of her neck. Somehow she would rather Laurie had gone for her than write a letter like this, because it was just too cold and remote. Once he would have flown into a temper and they would have both felt better for a good row, but this made her feel as if she was in the wrong. Laurie had let her down so many times but it seemed that she was being forced to bear all the blame for the breakdown of their marriage. Yet common sense told her that this was the best outcome for her – at least for the time being. She would’ve found it hard to move her life at this moment, because of the baby in her womb. Besides, Janet and Nellie were both relying on the pub for accommodation. Eventually, they would find new homes and perhaps Peggy would too, when the war was over and things got back to normal – if they ever did.
Throughout the spring and summer the news had been bad from overseas; the Russians were fighting desperately against superior odds and the Allies had one setback after another, though the air force was building up its strength again under Bomber Harris, the new chief in command. They were now preparing fresh attacks on German cities, partly to cause chaos and give Hitler pause, and partly in revenge for the attacks against London, Coventry, Birmingham, Liverpool, and many other ports, towns and cities across Britain. In June, it became necessary to ration the purchase of new clothes, but until the new ration books were printed people were advised to use margarine coupons: sixteen for a raincoat, two for gloves, seven for a pair of men’s boots. However, a lot of women were buying from the market without coupons and selling their clothes that no longer fitted them.
The WRVS had set up centres for women to exchange clothes their children had grown out of, because the coupons allowed just weren’t enough for growing children. Families who lost everything through an air raid were told they would get two years’ coupons to buy new, but despite the hardships, the V for Victory sign was beginning to appear everywhere in shops and on buses and people refused to admit to give in. Everyone was being cheerful and saying that the tide had to turn soon – if only the Americans would come into the war.
The newspapers were filled with tales of small victories on the ground one day and terrible defeats another, the Allied troops making a hurried exit from Crete after a spirited defence, but in the air there were daily triumphs as the thin blue line continued to hold firm. No one was certain which way the war was going, and at this point there seemed no end to a war on so many fronts…
Given the state of the world in summer 1941, Peggy knew it could be years before Laurie was able to return to the pub. He needed her to hold it together for him as best she could, and she would do her utmost to make sure that he had a business to come back to when he finally returned. Most of the extra stock he’d bought before the war had been used and it wasn’t easy to buy more, though she’d continued to purchase what she could. To have done otherwise might have aroused suspicion that she was dealing on the black market, and had the bottles of American bourbon been discovered in the cellar she might well have been accused of it, but they were long gone and Able wasn’t around to bring her any more…
Peggy’s eyes stung with tears as she thought of Able, but she brushed them away impatiently. She wasn’t the sort to feel sorry for herself. Sh
e’d had a good time with Able and she wasn’t sorry for any of it. She was strong, she knew that, and nothing was going to break her spirit – even though she sometimes cried herself to sleep.
Yet there was always someone else worse off. At the moment, Peggy’s thoughts were with the young lad in the hospital. She and Maureen’s gran had visited him in the intensive care ward, but he’d been under sedation and she wasn’t sure he’d even known they were there, because the nurse would only let them peek at him.
‘Tom is going to be with us for a while,’ the nurse had told Peggy. ‘Next time, please telephone first and you’ll save yourselves a wasted trip.’
Peggy had left the hospital feeling more determined than ever that she was going to do something about Tommy’s dad. Most people in the lanes had signed her petition, even though they thought she was mad.
‘They’ll never let Jack Barton out,’ Harry Jackson told her, ‘but I’ll sign yer petition, Peggy. Tom’s not a bad lad and I feel sorry fer ’im stuck in there and his ma ain’t been near…’
‘He’s not ready for visitors yet,’ Peggy told him, even though she thought privately that Tilly was behaving badly towards her son, ‘but we’ve got to try and get his father home, even if it’s only for a few weeks…’
‘Right, leave a copy ’ere on me counter,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll get a few signatures for you if I can…’
Peggy thanked him and left a sheet of her petition for his customers to sign. She could only hope it would be enough, because Tilly was getting worse day by day. The last time Peggy went over with a meal for her she’d just left it uneaten on the side, and she would swear that Tilly hadn’t changed her dress or washed in weeks.
Peggy might have her own troubles, but this terrible war had caused so much pain and suffering all round. She was determined that whatever life brought next, she would keep smiling – because she had good reason to smile about. No matter what happened, she was having Able’s child and that meant she had something to make her life worthwhile.
Chapter 24
Maureen read Peggy’s letter when she came off shift late that night. Anne had promised to help look after Shirley until after the war when her father came back, and Peggy said there was no need to return to London just for the girl’s sake. She should stay where she was while she was needed and not feel guilty.
Maureen folded the letter and tucked it away in her drawer. It was good of her friends to rally round like this, because she knew it was too much for Gran to have permanent care of the little girl. Maureen had tentatively broached the subject of transferring to London to work and live with Rory. They’d met one night after her return to Portsmouth, and he’d been furious with her for considering it.
‘You wouldn’t come back to London when I was in hospital and needed you,’ he said, his eyes glittering with temper. ‘Your job was too important, so I came down here for you – but now you say you should give it up and run back to take care of a kid that means nothin’ to you…’
‘I’m fond of Shirley. She used to be a spoiled brat, but she’s had a hard lesson living on that farm and I feel sorry for her. Besides, I wouldn’t have to give up nursin’ – just take my turn when I’m off duty…’
Rory’s eyes snapped with temper. ‘You’ve fetched her back, now let that be the finish of it. Her bloody father can ask for leave and come home and see to her – he should pay someone to take her on or put her in a kids’ home…’
‘No!’ Maureen cried. ‘That’s a horrid thing to say, Rory. None of us would let that happen to her – she’s one of us.’
‘And I’m not…’ he looked sullen. ‘It didn’t matter that I needed you when I was in hospital. Oh no, you couldn’t leave your bleedin’ job for me – but you’ll run back for Hart’s brat. Are you sure it’s not him you’re after?’
‘Rory! How could you?’ Maureen stared at him, feeling hurt, but also a little guilty, because perhaps she was considering Gordon’s feelings too much. ‘I’m just being a good friend, looking after a neighbour’s child while he can’t…’ Yet a little voice in her head told her that Rory had some right on his side. She enjoyed writing to Gordon and receiving his letters and perhaps she did feel closer to his daughter than the situation called for. Once again the doubts crowded in on her. She’d loved Rory when she was a young girl working in her father’s shop; he’d represented freedom and a new life to her, but he’d changed, or she had, and she wasn’t certain that she still felt the same.
‘Supposin’ he doesn’t come back ever?’ Rory glared at her and Maureen was silent, because she knew what was coming. ‘Well, I’m not havin’ the brat in my house, so you’ll make your choice, Maureen. If you go back to London for her sake we’re finished…’
‘Don’t say things like that – you know I love you…’ But did she? There were times now when Maureen wondered if what she felt for him was the kind of love that would last. It was good when they were together in bed and Rory was happy, but he soon turned sulky if things didn’t go his way and they argued too often for Maureen’s liking. She’d begun to realise that she’d never truly known him. When they went anywhere it was always where he chose and it seemed that he didn’t bother whether or not she wanted to visit the pub or the picture house.
Rory’s expression remained hard. ‘I thought you did once – but you put your father first and broke my heart. I married Velma because of you and that was a mistake, but now you’re still puttin’ other people first – and this time it’s a kid that doesn’t even belong to you. I mean it, Maureen. It’s me or the kid…’
‘But I promised to care for her…’ Maureen felt a sinking sensation inside, because there was no talking to him when he was like this.
‘Break your bloody promise then,’ Rory said and turned away.
Maureen caught his arm. ‘Where are you goin’? I thought you were takin’ me to the pictures tonight? I was lookin’ forward to seein’ that Bing Crosby film.’
‘Go on your own or take one of your friends,’ he said harshly. ‘I didn’t want to see it anyway and I dare say there’s half a dozen come way before me…’ He stalked off and Maureen stared after him, too choked to call him back.
He couldn’t mean they were finished? Surely it wasn’t the end? She felt the pain of his rejection strike her and it hurt so much. Rory was selfish and he lost his temper easily. She loved him, but sometimes she wondered if she was a fool, because he seldom seemed to consider her feelings. It was always what he wanted, never what suited her best. Yes, he’d come with her to fetch Shirley but he’d hardly spoken to the girl or her on the way back to London. He’d left them at Gran’s and gone straight back to Portsmouth and his job, leaving Maureen to catch a train the next morning. It was as if he was punishing her for being a caring person… but she couldn’t help the way she was; her nature was always to help others, but Rory seemed as if he didn’t want her to bother about anyone but him.
She’d gone back to her home in the hut at the hospital after their row that night and had a good cry, but she hadn’t spoken to Sister about a transfer, because she believed it was the end for her and Rory if she did. Her conscience over Gran and the others nagged at her, but Peggy’s letter made it easier. She hadn’t written to Rory to tell him she wasn’t going back to London. He was the one that had flown into a temper and he ought to apologise. Why should she always be the one to give in…? Yet, she didn’t want to lose him. Torn this way and that, she felt as if she were caught on thorns and whatever she decided would cause her pain.
After a week of crying herself to sleep, Maureen overcame her pride and wrote to Rory. He didn’t reply for several days, and then he sent a message through one of the guards that he’d be waiting for her that evening when she got off shift.
I’ll wait for half an hour, his note said, but if you don’t come I shan’t bother coming back…
Maureen screwed the note up angrily. She was furious herself now and thought it would serve him right if she didn’t bother to go, but
that would mean it was over between them and she couldn’t bear that, so she decided she would give it another chance. However, they had an influx of wounded patients that afternoon, and Sister kept her running round the whole time. She didn’t get her tea break and she knew that as the clock hands moved towards seven she wasn’t going to get away on time.
She asked Sister if she could leave at twenty past seven, which would just have given her time to meet Rory outside the gates, but Sister shook her head and looked annoyed.
‘You can see for yourself that it isn’t possible, nurse. I know it’s the end of your shift but we all have to make sacrifices.’
‘Yes, Sister,’ Maureen whispered. ‘She dared not ask again, even though the clock crept round to eight and past as she was kept busy handing bandages, bringing fresh dressings, emptying bedpans and changing drips. When she was eventually told she could leave, it was gone nine.
Maureen didn’t even bother going to the gate, because she knew Rory wouldn’t be there. She was way over time but he wouldn’t care that she’d had to work. He was too angry with her to care how she felt about anything and Maureen was numbed and miserable. Rory would think she’d stood him up, but what could she do – you didn’t walk out on Sister Martin even if your boyfriend had given you an ultimatum.
Maureen undressed and got into bed, but she didn’t sleep immediately. She was awake when Carol crept in much later, but she didn’t sit up because the girl hardly spoke to her these days.
She’d felt weepy for a bit, but now she was just resigned. If Rory could just break things off like that, he didn’t love her. Perhaps it was best that she’d discovered it now and not when it was too late…
*
Carol was packing her things into two suitcases when Maureen got back from breakfast the next morning. She turned and glanced at her, but then carried on packing without speaking.