The Women of Mulberry Lane, page 16
At least she was eating again, though she looked terrible. Maureen was worried about her, though she’d been turning up on time for work and she was still doing her two mornings a week war work.
Able entered the bar carrying a tray of clean glasses. ‘I’ve been listening to the wireless, hon,’ he said. ‘The Allies are closing in on Berlin. They seem to think we’ll have this business wrapped up in no time…’
‘They keep sayin’ things like that,’ Peggy said. ‘Yet nothin’ seems to change.’ She sighed, because even if the tide was turning in the war, the problems here at home did not seem to improve.
‘It will,’ Able said, deposited his tray on the bar and kissed her cheek. ‘You’re worried about Pip, aren’t you?’
‘He hasn’t left his room yet.’ Peggy acknowledged that it was her main concern. ‘Sheila said he went downstairs a couple of nights ago when we were asleep. She was cryin’ over it earlier… says she can’t talk to him…’
‘Pip is down right now. He’s looking for his way – doesn’t know what the future holds for him and his wife.’
Peggy nodded. ‘I told him I would apply for the pub licence in both their names, but he didn’t seem to listen – just said fine, do whatever I thought best. It’s as if he has no interest in anything…’
‘Like I said, he has lost his reason for being. He has to find his own way, Peggy, and that takes time.’
‘Is that why it took you a long time to come back to me?’
Able moved closer. ‘I wasn’t sure what I could offer until I read your letters and then I knew the twins needed me and I hoped you did too.’
‘I do – I always shall.’
‘I love you,’ Able said and then grinned as two American servicemen walked in. ‘Hi, Troy – Phil… what can I do for you?’
‘We just dropped by for a drink…’ one of them said and Able went to serve them.
Peggy saw that no customers were waiting so she left the bar and went through to the kitchen. Sheila was hunched over at the table and she could see instantly that her daughter-in-law had been crying again.
‘What’s wrong, love?’ Peggy sat down and took her hand. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘No, Mum. I don’t think anyone can,’ Sheila said. ‘Pip has shut himself off from us all and refuses to talk about the future. When I asked if he wanted to take over the Pig & Whistle he just told me to do whatever I wanted…’
‘He’s being childish,’ Peggy sighed. ‘I know this means the end of his hopes to fly as a commercial pilot but he’s still alive and he’s got both arms and legs.’
‘Flying meant everything to him…’ Sheila sobbed as Peggy embraced her. ‘I don’t know what to do, Mum.’
‘He loves you, Sheila. He has to think of you and the child now – not just himself.’
‘I’m not sure he does love me.’ Sheila shook her head and took Peggy’s hanky, dabbing at her face. ‘I think he wishes he hadn’t got married…’
‘Now that’s just silly,’ Peggy told her. ‘Pip does love you, and he cares about the child – but he needs a bit of a shake up to bring him out of himself.’
‘He was taking the model planes down in his old bedroom and pulling them apart…’ Sheila explained. ‘I asked him why and he just shook his head.’
‘I’ll go up and see what he’s up to,’ Peggy said and stood up. ‘Stop here, love. You shouldn’t upset yourself. You have the baby to think of…’
Peggy ignored Sheila’s mumbled protest and left the kitchen, going slowly upstairs. She could hear activity in the small room that had been Pip’s as a boy and when she entered, she saw him slashing at the models of planes suspended from the ceiling. He’d knocked several down and she could see the broken pieces scattered on the floor.
‘You’ll be sorry another day,’ she told him. ‘The hours you put into making those, Pip. What a waste of time – and mind my lampshade. It’s glass and I shan’t get another if you smash it…’
‘Bugger the thing…’ Pip said and glared at her. ‘What does a lampshade matter? Do you realise how many of us died protecting your rotten stuff from getting blown up?’
Peggy looked at him sadly. ‘Of course I do, Pip. Enough of my friends have died and suffered. I know your friends were killed and I know you’ve been hurt…’
‘I should have sodding died…’ he said savagely.
‘And that would have benefitted who?’ Peggy looked at him. ‘What about Sheila and your child – to say nothing of me, your sister and the others who care for you?’
‘What do you care – you’ve got him…’ Pip glared at her resentfully.
Peggy’s sympathy was tempered by anger. He was acting as if no one else understood suffering. ‘Yes, and I’m lucky Able came back to me. He has suffered as much as most. He survived a plane ditching in the sea and then he was wounded in the Normandy landings, but I don’t see him sulking. You like to think you’re a man, but you’re behaving like a boy, Pip. Pull yourself together and start thinking about your wife and the future.’
‘What future? I’ve got none…’
‘You’ve got one good eye and you might get a bit of sight come back in the other – and that’s enough to design planes.’
‘What do you know about it?’ he demanded rudely.
‘More than you imagine. I know you have more than one ability, Pip. When I suggested that you and Sheila take over the pub, I didn’t imagine you would spend your time pouring drinks. It could be your home and you could help Sheila when you have time, but you would spend your time working on your designs – unless you don’t think you have a talent for it? In which case—’
Peggy got no further for he took a swipe at the last model of a plane and knocked it down, cracking into her lampshade and smashing it with the same blow.
‘Pip! That wasn’t necessary…’
‘Oh God!’ Pip said and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at it. ‘I liked that – it had a plane on it…’ She saw tears in his eyes and pity took any anger she might have felt. He was hurting so bad! ‘I’m sorry, Mum – but I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll let you all down…’
‘Why don’t you try to accept that the future will be different?’ Peggy said. She resisted the urge to sit beside him and stroke his hair. He was her son and she hurt for him but she had to make him fight for himself; sympathy would smother him, make him bitter. ‘You could start by making some new models out of the mess you’ve made – and I’ve got all your drawings and paper and pencils put away in that chest…’ She went to it and pulled out the bottom drawer. ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Pip, and give yourself a chance.’
‘I’m sorry about the lampshade…’
‘It doesn’t matter. I’m more concerned about you than a lampshade.’ She bent to pick up the pieces and walked to the door, where she turned and looked back. ‘You’re more than you think you are – just have the guts to get on with it.’
Peggy left him to think it over. Outside the door, she stopped and closed her eyes. She was shaking and close to tears. All she’d wanted was to soothe her little boy and make it better, but she’d done what she thought right and sometimes that was hard. Pip had a lot of his father in him; she just had to hope he had her determination as well…
*
Maureen nursed her baby, singing to him softly as he whimpered and fretted. He’d been like this since he woke for his feed first thing and she wasn’t sure what was troubling him. She’d checked his nappy and it was slightly wet, so she changed it, making sure to cleanse and cream his little bottom. There wasn’t a rash and she didn’t think he was running a temperature – so what was wrong?
‘I’m off to work,’ Gordon said, coming into the bedroom. ‘You haven’t touched your tea. Is something wrong?’
‘Gordy is miserable, whimperin’ and frettin’,’ she said anxiously. ‘I can’t see what’s wrong with him…’
‘Not sore on his bottom?’
‘No,’ Maureen said and frowned. ‘Do you think I should call the doctor?’
‘If you’re worried,’ Gordon said, kissed his son and then her cheek and walked to the door. ‘I don’t suppose he’s teething?’
‘It’s a bit soon…’ Maureen said and then stopped. Time had gone by so quickly and she hadn’t given teething a thought until Gordon mentioned it, but perhaps… She slipped a finger into her young son’s mouth and felt his gums and then smiled at her husband. ‘I think you’re right, love. I can just feel somethin’. I’ll put something on to soothe him. Fancy him gettin’ a tooth through already…’
‘He’s just over four months,’ Gordon said. ‘My mother said I had my first tooth at three months. He’s simply an early developer, love.’
‘Thank goodness,’ Maureen said and crossed to the door with quick strides. She threw her arms about Gordon, kissing him on the mouth. ‘I love him so much and I couldn’t bear it if—’
Gordon put a finger to her lips. ‘It won’t happen, Maureen. Gordy is strong and healthy – the doctor told you so and the nurse thought he was wonderful at the clinic.’
‘I know…’ she smiled up at him. ‘I love you…’
‘Kiss me like that again and I’ll be playing truant,’ Gordon said and grinned. ‘If you’re worried about the kids or Gran just get the doctor, love. We can afford it and people are worth more than money. Besides, both shops are doing as well as we could expect given there’s still a war on.’
‘Surely it won’t last much longer? The Allies are pushing towards what is left of Berlin – and surely Hitler is finished at last?’
‘I doubt he’ll give in until all hope is gone – and I wouldn’t mind betting they won’t take him alive.’
‘I hope he’s already dead,’ Maureen said angrily. ‘That man has caused the deaths of thousands of men, women and children – all those that died here and in Germany, and all the brave men who gave their lives to beat him…’
Gordon nodded and looked grim. ‘It makes you feel sad, doesn’t it? Even though it has to be near the end, we can’t change what has happened or bring back those we’ve lost – we just have to pick up the pieces and carry on.’
‘I know.’ Maureen sighed, because it hurt to think of all their friends and neighbours who had died. Gordy had stopped whimpering and was kicking his legs and waving his tiny fists at her.
‘I’ll take him down for you – and then I really have to go. We’ve all had our breakfast and Shirley has already gone round to Richard’s. They walk to school together every day now.’
‘Yes, they have something in common and they get on well,’ Maureen said and followed him down the stairs, smiling as he left for work. Gran had the kettle boiling and she smiled as Maureen took some baby things into the scullery to put in the sink to soak.
‘What will you have to eat, love?’ she asked Maureen as she came back. ‘Gordon had egg on toast – only that powdered stuff scrambled, but he doesn’t complain. You’ve got a good one there…’
‘Yes, I know.’ Gordon had put his son on the blanket in his carrycot before he went and he lay there looking at her, waving his fists and burbling up at them. ‘Gordy is teething already. I thought something was wrong with him, but it’s just his first tooth.’
‘I think we’ve got a little honey left in the cupboard,’ Gran said. ‘Shirley had some on her toast, but there’s enough to put on his gums – poor little mite…’
Maureen made the tea and poured it for them both as Gran fetched the honey jar and scraped a little on her finger. She inserted her finger in the baby’s mouth and soothed it on his gums.
‘He likes that,’ she said as Gordy burbled at her. ‘It tastes nice, doesn’t it, darling? It will soothe those sore gums too… Folk don’t realise that they used to use honey for healing wounds once upon a time.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Maureen said and went to hug her. ‘I love you, Gran – and I know I’m lucky to have you. I’m sorry if I’ve been difficult of late.’
‘You’ve had your troubles, girl,’ Gran said and smiled at her. ‘I know what you’ve lost – but don’t forget how much you’ve got and remember to let the folk you love know you care.’
‘I shall,’ Maureen said and smiled. ‘I promise you, I shan’t throw away what I have. I’m learning to live again, Gran. I know that I’m still very lucky…’
*
Rose looked at the postcard. It had come from overseas through the forces post, but there was no mark you could read. She saw it was from Tom Barton.
Dad wrote to me and told me. I’m really sorry, Rose. If I can help ever, let me know. Your friend, Tom.
It was brief and to the point. Rose looked at it and tossed it onto the sideboard. She wasn’t interested in Tom Barton, though she knew he meant to be kind to her. If she couldn’t have the man she wanted, she didn’t want anyone.
Rose suddenly felt the vomit rise in her throat and got up to make a dash for the kitchen sink. That was the second time she’d been sick since she got up that morning. She must have eaten something that didn’t suit her… and yet she’d been eating at Peggy’s and she knew it had all been fresh and properly cooked.
The thought suddenly came to her – could she be pregnant?
Stunned, Rose paused in the act of wiping her mouth. How long ago was it since she’d had her last period?
Too long! She hadn’t noticed because she’d been sunk in misery after getting first the letter to tell her the wedding was off and then the telegram to say that Jimmy was dead.
She was having her lover’s baby. At first Rose was completely numb and then it began to sink in… she wasn’t alone. She had Jimmy’s child inside her…
Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, but for the first time they were healing rather than self-pity. She was having Jimmy’s baby and even though it meant she would be sneered at by some people and it would be difficult when she couldn’t work, she was glad.
The thought of the new life within her made her feel almost happy and she left for work that morning with a spring in her step. She would keep her secret until she was certain, but then she would tell Maureen and Gordon; they should be the first to know, because they’d stood by her and she owed them the courtesy – but they wouldn’t turn her off because they were friends.
Suddenly, Rose understood how lucky she was to live here in the lanes, where folk looked out for each other. At home in the village where she’d been born the women might have spat at her and the men labelled her a whore, but the people who knew her here would understand and most would be pleased once they realised that having Jimmy’s baby was the answer to her prayers.
12
Sheila entered the kitchen as Peggy was taking a tray of coconut tarts from the oven. She’d made them with some desiccated coconut Maureen had got from the wholesaler, jam and condensed milk, and was wondering what they would taste like.
‘Have one of these while they’re warm and tell me if they’re too sweet…’ she invited Sheila.
Sheila smiled, took a tart and nibbled it. She laughed, because it was so hot it burned her tongue, but the taste was delicious and she rolled her eyes. ‘I love coconut tarts!’
‘So do I,’ Peggy agreed, ‘but I thought I might have put too much condensed milk in – it’s so sweet…’
‘I’ve got a sweet tooth. I hate this sugar rationing. Do you think we’ll ever be able to go to the shop and buy as many sweets as we like?’
‘Not for a while,’ Peggy said. ‘Even if the war is nearly over, as folk keep sayin’, it will take ages for things to get back to normal. They promise us the earth once the war is done, but I remember the last one and it was a while before the shops were fully stocked again…’ She looked at Sheila who had finished her tart and was still smiling. ‘How is Pip this mornin’?’
‘He seems thoughtful,’ Sheila said. ‘He was up before dawn and in the baby’s room. When I went in, he had three model planes hanging from the ceiling. He’d put them together from the bits of what he’d smashed.’
‘That is a good sign,’ Peggy said and smiled encouragingly at her. ‘Give him time, Sheila. He has to come to terms with his future and none of us can fight his demons for him.’
‘I know…’ Sheila touched her hand as he passed her a cup of tea. ‘He told me you read him the riot act. I think it did him good, Peggy.’
‘If he glued some of the broken planes together he’s thinking again. What I’m hoping for is that he will get his pencils out and start drawing again – he’s brilliant, Sheila. His father wanted him to go in for designing aeroplanes rather than flying them, but with the war it was inevitable that he would fly.’
‘Yes – and he was brilliant at that too,’ Sheila said and sighed. ‘Everyone wanted to fly with him, because he was clever and lucky and he just loved flying. Some of his friends told me that they always felt they would come back from any mission he was on – and he wasn’t shot down. It was that wretched mechanic who hadn’t noticed the stress fracture. That plane should never have been allowed to get through inspection, Peggy. I can’t blame Pip for feeling upset over what’s happened, but I’m just glad he’s alive.’
‘He will be too when he’s feeling better,’ Peggy promised. ‘All we can do is love him and help when he’ll let us…’
‘I’m so glad we’re here with you,’ Sheila said. ‘I don’t think I could have coped in lodgings. It makes me feel better just to sit and talk to you – and all your friends. People in the lane… well, they just seem to care.’
Peggy merely smiled, but Sheila’s words warmed her inside. Pip’s arm was better and his leg was on the mend; his eye was still covered, because the doctor had said it needed more time. She could only hope that as the spring and summer came her son would feel glad to be alive.
*
Janet’s wedding was just lovely. Everyone said so, and although Janet had wanted only a small reception, Peggy gave a big party for all her friends and neighbours in the evening.
Janet looked beautiful in a pale cream dress and coat that she’d had made for her with some silky material she’d managed to buy. Her hat was straw with lots of pink veiling and roses, and her shoes were cream suede. Ryan had given her a gorgeous diamond brooch in the shape of a bunch of flowers; it trembled when she moved and was very old.
