The Women of Mulberry Lane, page 2
‘Yes, I can see how it would,’ Peggy said and smiled. ‘Men and small boys are much the same. They think they can do more than they can and when they take a tumble it hurts their pride more than anything else.’
‘Freddie been up to his usual mischief then?’
‘He never stops,’ Peggy laughed, because she was proud of her adventurous son. ‘He tumbled all the way down the stairs yesterday and never shed a tear. Maggie was at the top of the stairs and so was Fay. I think one of them may have pushed him, but he just glared up at them and didn’t say a word.’
‘Oh dear, I don’t envy you that problem,’ Maureen sympathised. ‘I’m lucky. Shirley dotes on both her brothers and Robin does whatever he can manage of what she does. He follows her everywhere when she’s home from school, but it makes things easier for me, because she’s such a help…’
Peggy nodded. There had been a time when Shirley was a spoiled only child and she’d made life difficult for Maureen, but a spell away from home and some harsh treatment from her grandmother’s relations had made her realise how lucky she was. Maureen had taken care of her long before she’d fallen in love with Shirley’s father, Gordon, and married him, and the girl was devoted to her.
The two friends parted on the best of terms as always. Peggy reflected that in all the time she’d known Maureen they’d never had a cross word and that was unusual. She and Janet had argued more than once, but Maureen had always been there for her, even though she’d had her share of problems.
As she neared the arch that led through to the back of the Pig & Whistle, Peggy had seen a tall soldier come walking round the corner. She stared at him for a moment and then smiled as she recognised Tom Barton.
‘Tom!’ she exclaimed. ‘How are you? You seem to have shot up since you left to join your unit.’
‘I’m forever training that’s why,’ Tom said and laughed with pleasure. ‘You look wonderful, Peggy. I’m on five days leave, so I thought I’d come back to the lane in the hope that someone has a bed they can lend me for a few nights…’
‘You can stay with us,’ Peggy offered as he swung his kitbag over his broad shoulder. ‘Anne’s husband is home on leave from the army for two weeks. He has been on officer trainin’ and they’ve gone away somewhere, so you can use her room.’
‘Are you sure she wouldn’t mind?’ He hesitated, not wanting to offend anyone.
‘Quite sure,’ Peggy assured him. ‘I shan’t take no for an answer, Tom. You’ve helped me so much in the past. I’ve got a guest room free, but it is piled up with Janet’s clobber. She has been collecting furniture for her new house when she’s married – and I let her have the room to store it.’
‘Is Janet gettin’ married?’ Tom asked. ‘Maureen told me she thought she might be when she wrote to me a couple of months back.’
‘Not until the spring,’ Peggy said a little ruefully, because in some ways the sooner Maggie was around less, the better. It was her presence that seemed to cause most of the arguments between the twins. ‘Have you heard from Jack recently?’ Tom’s father, Jack Barton, was also in the army, but it was unlikely the two would meet on duty.
‘I had a postcard three months ago, but he’s overseas somewhere and you know how erratic the post can be in wartime.’
Peggy did indeed know that letters were often delayed and even lost in the post. She led the way inside to her warm kitchen. Nellie had the kettle boiling and she greeted Tom with a big beaming smile.
‘Well, look who’s here,’ she said. ‘Just in time for a cuppa…’
‘And a slice of apple pie,’ Peggy said. ‘Reg got hold of a box of cookers for me from somewhere and I’m making the most of them. They’re not quite as good as before the war, because I have to use fat and sugar sparingly…’ She sighed, because although some things were easier to get now, others were even more tightly rationed.
‘I like them tart anyway,’ Tom said and set his kitbag down on the kitchen floor as Nellie brought him a mug of strong tea. ‘Just the way I enjoy my tea.’ He sipped appreciatively. ‘There is always enough food in the army canteen, Peggy, but the quality of it leaves much to be desired. Mostly, I stick to bacon or chip butties if I can get them…’
‘You’ll get fat,’ Nellie clucked with her tongue, but since there wasn’t an ounce of spare flesh on the handsome young man everyone laughed.
‘Army life suits you then?’ Peggy said, smiling at a lad she was fond of, but then, everyone in the lanes liked Tom.
‘I love every minute,’ Tom said. ‘I thought I wanted to run my own business after the war, but now I might stay in and make it a career…’
‘Anne’s husband thinks the same way,’ Peggy said. ‘Anne isn’t too keen. She says peacetime soldiers get posted all over the place and their wives go with them in married quarters. She would prefer to stay in London and teach once her little girl is older.’
‘Had a little girl, did she?’ Tom nodded, clearly enjoying the gossip of the lanes. He knew most people because of his time serving in Maureen’s shop. ‘Maureen has another boy I know.’
‘Yes, she has…’
‘That will please Gordon,’ Tom said and grinned. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind putting up with me, Peggy?’
‘Don’t be daft. Come on, I’ll take you up to your room,’ Peggy said as he finished both his slice of apple pie and his tea. Just as he rose to follow her, a knock sounded at the back door and a pretty young woman walked in. ‘Oh, hello, Rose. Look who has come to stay for a few days…’
‘Rose…’ Tom grinned at the young woman he’d admired ever since she first came to work for Peggy and she gave him a brilliant smile. ‘How are you – and Jimmy?’ Jimmy was her boyfriend and in the Army.
‘Jimmy is away somewhere,’ Rose said and frowned. ‘He was here three weeks ago, though I haven’t heard for more than a week now, but he told me not to worry because letters might be a while comin’… otherwise, I’m the same, cheeky and cheerful.’
‘Yes, same with my dad, he’s in the thick of it somewhere,’ Tom said. ‘He only ever sends the postcards the army provides and only when he feels the need to let me know he’s all right. Folk think the war’s almost done, but there’s still fierce fightin’ goin’ on in various places and I know he’s had a bit of a rough time. We’ve got a code; though he can’t say anythin’ outright, I always know…’
Rose nodded and looked anxious but didn’t answer him. ‘I brought your order, Peggy. We got some golden syrup in this morning and Maureen said you wanted two tins, so I’ve put them in the box even though they were not on your list.’
‘Thank you, Rose. I can always make a sweet for the bar with golden syrup, bread crumbs and pastry. Most of the customers like it and I put it in cakes too, instead of sugar…’
Tom was lingering, never taking his eyes from Rose’s face.
Peggy touched his arm. ‘Ready? I need to open up the bar in ten minutes…’
‘Oh yes, of course. Be seein’ you, Rose.’ Tom followed Peggy from the kitchen into the hall and up the stairs. ‘I’ll be glad to help out in the bar while I’m home, Peggy, especially in the evenings…’
‘Surely you don’t want to work while you’re on leave?’ She looked at him curiously.
‘I don’t have any family other than Dad,’ Tom said, and paused. ‘I suppose Maureen told you my ma died recently? And there’s no one special in my life – so a few hours in the bar servin’ your customers and talkin’ to old friends would suit me.’
‘I was sorry about your mother…’
Tom shrugged. ‘Dad wrote and told me. He thinks it was for the best because she would never have come out of that place… When my brother Sam was killed on that bomb site, she died inside I reckon and her reason to live went into the ground with Sam…’ He gave himself a little shrug as though wanting to get rid of the morbid thoughts. ‘What about me helpin’ out then?’
‘You’re on,’ Peggy said promptly. ‘I’ve got some part-time helpers now. Nellie is here as much as she can manage, and when Anne is here she helps out in the bar, as does Janet – but Irene from the hairdressers comes in on Friday nights and an older man comes in on Thursdays and Saturday evenings. Ned, he’s my new helper, changes the barrels for me and serves in the bar. Irene helps in the kitchen and with the children – that gives Janet Friday nights to go out with Ryan… but I’m still short-handed with Anne away.’
Tom looked pleased and Peggy left him to settle in. She’d changed the sheets on the bed ready for when Anne came home and Tom had no need to use the wardrobe. She would give him a small chest he could use to unpack his things, because there was a spare in the room Janet was using to store her things. So he wouldn’t disturb Anne’s things at all.
Returning to the kitchen, she heard Janet’s voice and that of the twins. Janet had taken them out for a while. She took them to a small green space behind the church. It wasn’t truly big enough to be a park, though it was named as Itchy Park, because of the down-and-outs who had once frequented it, but it was large enough for Freddie to charge about and let off steam. Peggy’s young son had so much energy! That always pleased her, because there had been some concern over his health when he was born, but these days he was full of it!
Just as Janet began to speak, they all heard the loud bang and Fay started to cry and pull at Peggy’s skirts. Peggy bent down to pick her up and comfort her.
‘It’s all right, darling. It’s just Thor’s hammer,’ she lied. They told the children the fairy tale that mothers had used to describe thunder for centuries, about the God Thor stamping about in the skies and banging with his hammer. This bang wasn’t thunder but another of the V2 rockets, but the twins were too young to understand, though from the way Freddie’s big serious eyes looked at her, Peggy suspected that he understood more than they gave him credit for; he was very intelligent and he must have picked up that his mother was scared for he came to her and clung on to her legs.
‘Muma…’ he said. ‘Freddie love Muma…’
‘Yes, darling, Muma loves you, too,’ Peggy said and rumpled his hair, which was much darker now than when he’d been born. He looked more like Able every day and Peggy had a sudden longing for his father. If only Able would either walk in or at least reply to one of the letters she’d sent…
2
‘Are you all right, darling?’ Maureen asked as she entered her kitchen and saw Shirley seated at the table making Christmas cards. ‘Where is Gran – and your father?’
‘Gran had a headache,’ Shirley said. ‘She went upstairs to lie down for a while. Dad is in the yard chopping wood for kindling…’
Maureen went to the window feeling worried. Gordon insisted on chopping the logs she’d had delivered to keep their kitchen range going because there was a shortage of coke and coal. She was frightened every time he did it, because he swung wildly, his balance affected by the weaker leg. Although the wounds to his leg had healed well, he was suffering pain and as yet the muscles had not strengthened as they should, despite all the exercises they did together. However, when she’d begged him to leave the logs to her, they’d come closer to having a blazing row than ever before.
‘I’m not a bloody imbecile,’ Gordon had snapped savagely. ‘I know I’m not much use for anything, but I can manage to chop a bit of kindling…’
Maureen hadn’t tried to argue. It hurt her to see him struggling with jobs he would once have taken in his stride – and, perhaps even worse, as yet they had been unable to make love. She thought perhaps that was at the root of his edginess.
Gordon had been keen to take her in his arms and hold her when he first came home. He’d kissed her and held her close, stroking the soft skin of her naked back and caressing her full breasts. Maureen had put on a little weight since having her second child, but it suited her and she was content in her own skin, but Gordon’s failure to make physical love had hurt and worried him.
‘It will happen when you’re really healed,’ Maureen had told him as she held him close and kissed him, stroking his cheek and feeling the dampness of tears. ‘You’re here, Gordon, you’re with us, and we’re all so happy to have you back…’
‘I don’t know why – I’m a useless lump of meat,’ he’d muttered and turned away from her.
In the morning, he’d got himself downstairs and put the kettle on, and from then on he’d insisted on doing every chore he could manage, even if it was scouring a few pots or peeling potatoes. Sometimes, she saw him exhaust himself doing unnecessary tasks that either she or Gran could do easily.
Gran! Suddenly, it registered what Shirley had said about Gran having a headache. It was so unlike her to go and lie on the bed during the day that Maureen was anxious as she walked quickly upstairs. She felt guilty because Gran had looked after little Gordon while she went to the shop and then the wholesaler. Vera needed no supervision at the wool shop and Maureen was so glad she’d agreed to work there and live in the rooms above. The grocery shop was more of a worry, because there were only part-time staff to run it. Janet did some hours there and Rose was there three days a week, but she was required to do two days a week war work and still had two shifts at the cardboard factory. She often got annoyed over it, because they’d laid other older women off who had wanted their jobs. It was government dogma at its most foolish, but even if she had been at the shop full time, Maureen knew that Rose would leave to get married once Jimmy came home.
Maureen had taken on the wool shop in the hope that eventually Gordon would be able to manage the grocery business that had been her father’s until he died. Her father’s widow, Violet, still carried on her corset making above the shop. Maureen wished she would move on. If the flat was available she might entice a manager to live in with his family, but the older men she’d interviewed all wanted accommodation near the shop and she couldn’t offer it– besides, she still had hopes that the job would suit Gordon when he was fit enough.
Maureen refused to doubt that it would eventually happen. Gordon’s leg needed enough time to heal. He was frustrated with it, but she had to stay strong no matter what her husband said or did. He needed her strength now and she was glad of the time she’d spent in nursing, because it had made her able to withstand pity. Had she not seen other men suffering, Maureen might have burst into tears each time she saw Gordon’s wasted leg and the way he struggled to make it work. Yet she knew in her heart that he was lucky not to have lost it; thin and pale as it was, at least he could manage to walk about the house and yard with his crutch.
Reaching the bedroom, Maureen hesitated and then went in quietly. Gran was lying on top of the bed, her eyes closed. She opened them as Maureen approached her and smiled.
‘Now stop worrying,’ she admonished. ‘I had a headache and Shirley was watching the little ones, so I thought I’d have a lie-down…’
‘I expect you to do too much…’ Maureen apologised remorsefully, sitting on the edge of Gran’s bed. ‘I’m sorry…’
‘Nonsense!’ Gran said stoutly and looked cross. ‘What would my life be without you and the children? I should have died of boredom years ago. I don’t want a fuss, love. I feel much better now.’
‘You should visit the doctor,’ Maureen said, though she knew she was wasting her breath.
‘Well, I might, just to please you,’ Gran said. ‘I’ll be down shortly. I heard Gordon chopping wood. He’s the one you want to worry about if you must…’
Maureen smiled and bent down to kiss Gran’s withered cheek. She was an indomitable old lady and would prefer to drop in harness, as she often said, rather than sit in a chair and fade away. Gran had always worked and perhaps that was where Maureen got it from, because she hardly ever stopped these days.
When she went down to the kitchen, Gordon had brought in a load of logs and some kindling. He smiled at her and for a moment she saw the man she’d fallen in love with.
‘Is Gran all right, love? I thought she seemed a bit peaky this mornin’ and I told her she should lie down – it surprised me when she did…’
‘She says she might go to the doctor to please me. I think she should. I expect I ask her to do too much…’
‘She would hate it if we treated her as an invalid. Hilda is a strong woman, Maureen. She always has been and she always will…’
Maureen nodded. Gordon seemed more cheerful this morning and that made her feel better. It worried her when he was silent and withdrawn.
‘Peggy asked us to the Christmas party…’ she said hesitantly.
Gordon glanced at her and then nodded. ‘We should all go for an hour or so – take the children. Shirley would like that, wouldn’t you, love?’
‘Yes, Dad.’ Shirley looked at him adoringly. ‘I like Aunty Peggy – and I like Freddie. I don’t like Fay as much, but Maggie is all right – better than she used to be.’
Gordon frowned. ‘Don’t you have any friends of your own age you’d like to have round to tea, Shirley?’
‘Can I – Mum?’ Shirley looked at Maureen. ‘I’d like to ask Carol Brooks and a couple of my school friends – if it isn’t too much trouble…’
‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t,’ Maureen agreed, feeling good when she saw Shirley smile. ‘The week before Christmas would be best – but we’ll decorate and have a tree if I can find one and some little presents… so we can play pass the parcel and pin the tail on the donkey.’
Shirley glowed and Gordon looked at her approvingly. Maureen wished she’d thought of the idea herself. Perhaps she did let her thoughts get taken up with the business too much these days, but until Gordon was ready to take on more, she had no alternative.
‘Right, now help your mother get the lunch,’ Gordon said and Shirley leapt up to clear away her bits and pieces. ‘After lunch I want to talk to you, Maureen – I think we need to sort a few things out…’
