The Women of Mulberry Lane, page 25
When the police came in answer to several phone calls by local residents, Rory was still lying there and, as the officer bent over him, he made a chilling discovery.
‘I think the glass cut an artery – he’s been bleeding profusely. I think he’s dead or close to it…’
‘Silly bugger,’ his companion said, coming to take a look. ‘I’ve heard of drunks doing some wild things when they wanted a drink – but this just about tops it all…’
*
Maureen woke suddenly in the night. Something was wrong! She clawed up quickly, her son’s name on her lips as she rushed through to his room to look. Gordy was sleeping peacefully, but Maureen was swaying on her feet, the dizziness almost felling her. It was then that she realised her nightdress was soaking wet and when she put her hand down she felt the stickiness of blood.
Staggering into the bathroom, Maureen looked at herself in the light. The bottom half of her nightdress was soaked in blood. She must have miscarried the baby she’d hardly known for sure was there. Sitting on the toilet, she felt the tears on her cheeks. She’d lost their second baby…
‘What’s wrong?’ Gordon was there, looking at her. He saw the blood and took in what it must mean. ‘You were pregnant?’
Maureen nodded. ‘I wasn’t sure. I’d just begun to think I might be…’ Tears made her stop. ‘Oh, Gordon, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to lose our baby…’
‘My dearest girl.’ Gordon took her into his arms and held her close. ‘This isn’t your fault, Maureen. I’m not even sure that rogue caused it by knocking you down – but that wouldn’t have helped. I’m sorry we’ve lost the baby, but as long as you’re all right and the kids… Once the doctor says you’re all right, we can hope for more babies…’ He kissed her hair as she leaned into him. ‘Cry if you want, darling, but don’t think it’s your fault. Babies sometimes miscarry. As a nurse, you must know it happens all the time.’
‘I know…’ Maureen caught back her sobs. ‘It was just the shock – on top of all the rest…’ She sighed. ‘When will things get better?’
‘Hush, my love. We’re lucky. I count our blessings all the time. We still have two beautiful children – and you’re young. With luck we’ll have more children one day…’
Maureen nodded. She drew away and wiped her eyes. ‘I’ll go to the prenatal clinic and get myself checked over,’ she said. ‘Our doctor is all right – but he would just tell me to rest and not worry. I’ve got friends at the London and they will check me over, make sure there’s no damage inside…’
Gordon smiled and held out his hand. ‘I’ll give you a hand to change the sheets. Judging by your nightgown they will need it…’
*
Maureen was relieved after the nurse and the doctor on duty told her there was nothing to worry about. It looked as if she’d been lucky and the miscarriage was more an act of nature than a direct result of her fall.
‘Sometimes women are not carrying the babe just as they should and so Mother Nature decides to abort the birth,’ the doctor said sympathetically. ‘But you’ve given birth to two healthy babies, Mrs Hart, and I see no reason why there should not be another in time. Just let it happen and don’t stress yourself if it doesn’t, that’s my advice.’
Maureen thanked him and left the clinic. She decided to call in at the wholesaler and buy what she could before going to the pub to collect Gordy. Peggy was looking after her baby for her. She’d heard about Rory’s attack on her and been very angry.
‘If he dares to show his face round here again, I’ll take my carving knife to him, love.’
Maureen had smiled and shook her head. ‘The police are looking for him, because Gordon reported him. They will get him in the end…’
‘Only if he walks in and gives himself up; most of them couldn’t find a horse in a stable…’
In decrying the local police, Peggy wronged them. The chief constable telephoned Maureen later that day to tell her that the man who had attacked her was dead.
‘Dead?’ Maureen was shocked. ‘What happened to him?’
‘He was drunk and threw himself into the window of an off-licence,’ the officer told her. ‘The glass cut an artery and he bled to death – but our doctor said he was dying anyway. The poor devil had damage to his lungs and couldn’t have lasted much longer…’
Maureen thanked him and replaced the receiver. She was surprised that she felt nothing. There was some relief in knowing that Rory would not cause any more damage to her family or property, but otherwise nothing. Once, she’d been deeply in love with the handsome young soldier, but life and the war had changed him – and her. She was no longer the naïve girl who had thought him charming and clever. He’d turned into a selfish brute and she wasn’t even sorry that he was dead.
Gordon was relieved. ‘I’d made up my mind to have a go at him if I found him,’ he told her. ‘He saved me the trouble – and as far as I’m concerned, it’s good riddance to bad rubbish…’
Maureen nodded. ‘I feel much the same. I’m sorry he had so much bad luck – but I think he brought most of it on himself.’
When Peggy learned of Rory’s death, she rang Maureen. ‘You won’t go to the funeral – will you?’
‘No, why should I?’
‘You shouldn’t,’ Peggy assured her. ‘I doubt if many will mourn Rory Macpherson.’
In that, Peggy was once again wrong. His wife Velma stood at his graveside and wept. Her love affair with the charmer had been an on-off sort of thing, but she still thought he was one of the best men she’d known and she threw a rose into his grave before turning away to go and get drunk with her friends…
19
Rose was feeling down as she left work and crossed the road to her home. Her back had been aching all day and it was getting more difficult to carry on with her job. She thought she would have to take leave for the birth quite soon, even though she wasn’t due for a few weeks.
It was almost June now and the weather was warmer at last. Rose was wearing just a thin cotton dress and a smock over the top. Some of the women who shopped at Hart’s looked at her a bit askance because she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but no one had actually refused to be served by her. Once upon a time she would have been spat at in the street by decent women, but too many girls had been caught this way since the war started; men promised to marry their girls when they got back and then died on some foreign field, leaving the girl to face an uncertain future alone and pregnant.
Jimmy had always sworn he wouldn’t do that, Rose reflected ruefully. It was the reason he hadn’t wanted to be involved in a serious way, but in the end the attraction between them had been too much for him and they’d become lovers.
Entering the house, Rose sighed as she sat down. She was hungry but she didn’t fancy cooking a meal for herself, and all she had in the house was bacon and egg or some bread and jam. The bread wasn’t fresh today, but it would toast well and that was easier than standing at the cooker frying bacon and egg. She just wished someone was there to help her get it ready. It would be so nice to have someone say, ‘I’ll put the kettle on, Rose love…’
It was no use, no one was coming. She got to her feet. She would make some toast and have some strawberry jam on it. She really didn’t have the energy to do more.
The kettle was boiling when the knock at the back door came. Rose left her half-finished toast and went to answer it. She was surprised when she saw Peggy standing there. At one time Peggy had called round often, but since Rose had settled down she had stopped coming. They saw each other at the pub because Rose occasionally helped out and ate there at least three times a week.
‘I wasn’t expecting you, Peggy…’
‘May I come in please?’ Peggy followed her into the room.
‘I’m just about to make the tea – would you like a cup?’
‘Yes, thank you…’ Peggy saw the half-toasted bread. ‘Is that all you were havin’ for tea? You should eat proper meals, Rose…’
Rose handed her the cup and sat down at the table. ‘I know – but it seems such a palaver to cook just for one…’
‘Even so, you must think about the baby,’ Peggy said. ‘Why don’t you leave that and come to mine. I’ll give you something decent to eat…’
Rose looked at her and saw the worry in her face. ‘Thank you, perhaps I will do that, Peggy – but you’d better tell me what you came to say…’
‘I’m not sure how much it means to you – but Tom has been injured.’
Rose gasped and sat back in her chair; her face white.
Peggy continued, ‘I don’t know how badly, but he is in a military hospital…’
‘Oh, Peggy…’ Tears started to Rose’s eyes. ‘I’d hate for anything to happen to Tom. He’s been such a good friend to me.’
‘I know – that’s why I came to tell you myself. I didn’t want you hearin’ rumours and gettin’ upset. I don’t know how bad he is – the telegram didn’t say. My name was put down as the person to contact if something happened to him. With Jack in the army, I suppose Tom wanted his friends to know if…’ She broke off and shook her head. ‘It says there’s a letter to follow and I’ll let you know as soon as I hear more.’
‘Thank you…’ Rose blinked her tears away. ‘It was good of you to come round, Peggy – I will take you up on that offer of a meal. If Tom is in hospital, he is going to need his friends to visit.’ She stuck her head in the air. ‘He and Jack helped me out after I lost Jimmy – and I can’t let him down.’
*
‘I was really surprised,’ Peggy told Able later that evening. ‘I thought she might break down like she did after Jimmy was killed – but it seemed to make her more determined to look after herself. She told me not to worry about her, said that she would look after herself and the baby – and she wants to know where Tom is so that she can visit him in hospital.’
‘That’s great, hon,’ Able said. ‘I like young Tom. I hope he hasn’t got a life changing wound.’
Peggy nodded, because she knew what he meant. Able had lost an arm: he knew what it was like to suffer the pain and the difficulty that loss engendered in everyday life. Tom was good at doing things with his hands. He would never settle to a job that was just brain work, and Peggy wished the telegram had been more specific.
‘When are they goin’ to start on the building?’ she asked, changing the subject because she’d been thinking it would make a good office for Tom if he wanted to set up his business as an odd-job-man there and she thought he might do better living in his own flat rather than the house Rose was using. After all, they couldn’t live together – unless… A little smile touched her mouth as she thought of the best outcome. Now, if that were to happen, no one would be more delighted than Peggy.
‘They will finish clearing the site tomorrow,’ Able said, ‘and start building on Monday… What are you smiling about?’
‘Oh, nothing much,’ she said and kissed him. ‘I’m off to look in on the twins and then I shall go to bed.’
‘I’ll close up,’ Able promised.
Peggy went in to check on her children. They were sleeping peacefully and she smiled, feeling content with her life. She was lucky and she knew it – and Maureen felt the same way, even though she was sad because of her recent miscarriage, but Maureen was young and she would have more children. Peggy knew a miscarriage didn’t mean the end of having children; it had happened to her years ago and then she’d had her adorable twins. Maureen had helped her at their birth and the friendship between them was solid. Peggy thought she would pop round the next day and have a chat, just in case her best friend needed cheering up. She would be worried about Tom too. It wasn’t just Rose who was upset by the news that Tom was injured – the whole lane thought the world of him.
*
‘I hope he will be all right,’ Maureen said when Peggy called in the next morning. ‘Everyone likes Tom and it wouldn’t be the same without him in the lane.’
‘I hope he’ll stay here, Peggy said. ‘If he starts up as painter decorator-cum-handyman, he’ll have lots of customers. Everyone will want something done once things are back to normal. There isn’t a house in London that hasn’t suffered in some way from the war – if it wasn’t a bomb, it was debris or neglect because we couldn’t get things fixed.’
‘I hope he can carry on, for his sake,’ Maureen agreed. ‘I shan’t need him in the shop now Gordon is in charge, but I’d like some work done here – and Gordon is getting his house back soon. The family that have been living there are leaving next month. He says they haven’t exactly trashed it, but they have several kids and it’s a bit the worse for wear. I was hoping that Tom would have a go at it once he was demobbed.’
‘Well,’ Peggy said, ‘we just have to hope he’ll recover from whatever is wrong.’
‘It’s rotten luck for him,’ Maureen was thoughtful. ‘He waited all that time to get in the Army and he’s been injured twice in the past few months…’
‘At least he’s alive… or he was when I got that telegram.’ The two friends looked at each other anxiously. Knowing half the story was worse than knowing nothing. Tom was a friend and neither of them wanted to see him crippled by war wounds. There had been more than enough of that in the lanes and it was time something good happened.
‘I’ve heard that they’re planning street parties all over London when the war is finally declared won,’ Peggy said. ‘I’ll be helping to organise ours and from what I hear the tables will run down our lane and into the next. It’s going to be a huge celebration. Let’s hope we all have something to celebrate by then…’
Maureen nodded and went to fetch Gordy from his cot as he started to grizzle. ‘Rose’s baby is due in the next few weeks. I hope she comes through it all right.’
‘Oh, I think she will,’ Peggy said. ‘She seems pretty determined…’
*
Rose came down the stairs that morning, about two weeks after Peggy and Maureen had been discussing her. Her back was aching and she’d decided that she was too weary to go into work that day. She would let Gordon know and then she would come back and put her feet up – perhaps sort out the things for the baby. For weeks she’d been knitting coats, bootees and bonnets for her baby, mostly in white or lemon because she didn’t want to tempt fate by using either pink or blue. Besides, Maureen’s shop always had more white and pale yellow than pink or blue and Rose got a discount on anything she bought, so there was no point in trekking to the market when the shop was just across the road.
Peggy had given her some of the twins’ clothes. Things they’d grown out of that were still very wearable and Rose was grateful. Several of her friends at the factory had knitted her little coats or bonnets, but she needed more rompers and dresses. She hadn’t bought many of them because she wanted to see which she had, a boy or a girl. Rose didn’t much mind what sex her baby was, as long as it was healthy.
She made some scrambled eggs with powdered egg and fried a slice of streaky bacon, pouring the fat over the eggs to give them more taste. She didn’t bother to toast the bread but dipped it in the fat from the pan and ate every scrap of her food. She drank two cups of tea and then ran to the toilet to pass water. That was the trouble recently, she had to keep passing water whenever she drank anything. The midwife said it would be better once the baby was born and was one of those things she had to put up with, along with swollen ankles and a bad back.
She walked across the road and told Gordon she didn’t feel like coming to work. He was kind and told her to go home and rest. ‘I shan’t expect you again unless you want to come,’ he said. ‘We’ll still have a job for you once the baby is here, Rose. Maureen wants you to look after yourself – all your friends do…’
Rose nodded and left, walking back across the road.
Reg, the postman, was at her door, about to push some letters through the box. He smiled at her, nodding sympathetically as she held a hand to her back.
‘You need to sit down and put your feet up,’ he said wisely and handed her two letters. ‘One is a bill – the other isn’t…’
Rose thanked him. Reg always told everyone what their letters were. At first she’d found it annoying, but she knew he didn’t intend to be nosey. He was just being friendly, as he saw it, and it was nice for those who lived alone to have someone who would always stop for a chat. The milkman came too early and was usually gone before most were up, except for Saturdays when he collected his money.
Letting herself into the kitchen, Rose sank down into the nearest chair with a sigh. She would make another cup of tea in a few minutes, but first she would read her letters. The bill was for some things she’d ordered for the baby; her goods were in and she was asked to pay their invoice of three pounds, six shillings and tuppence when she collected her order. Putting that on the table, Rose turned to the more interesting letter. Few folk wrote to her these days and she wondered who it could be. The writing was vaguely familiar, although she couldn’t place it…
She slit the envelope and took out the single sheet inside.
Dear Rose.
I hope you don’t mind me sending this to you, but I wanted you and all my friends to know I’m all right. I got shot in my right leg and it’s a bit painful, but they tell me I’ll be able to carry on as normal once I’ve been treated and the wound has healed. I thought I should let you know, because they’re talking about sending me home next month – don’t think you have to move out, Rose. We can either share the house, as we did when I was on leave before, or I’ll find somewhere to convalesce, but I shan’t tell the doctor that, because he thinks you’ll be there to look after me. He thinks you’re my fiancée, so if you get a visit to make sure you can manage, you’ll know why. Sorry, but he was talking about sending me to some rest home in the country if I hadn’t got anyone to care for me. Don’t let on, will you? I shan’t be any trouble… Peggy or someone will give me a bed…
