by Rosie Clarke
‘What do you think Mabel?’ she asked softly, and her throat closed with emotion as she thought of the woman she’d known as her neighbour all her life and loved as a friend. It still hurt badly that Peter Morris had so wantonly taken Mabel’s life, but Maureen felt she was doing something worthwhile by keeping the shop going for the residents. ‘Will she fit do you think?’
In her mind she could see Mabel nodding and smiling. She’d been a kind woman and she would have wanted to help another widow if she could.
Chapter 28
Peggy finished clearing the dirty dishes into the kitchen and sighed. Nellie had helped with washing-up earlier, so there wasn’t that much to do and she was going to leave it for the morning.
‘It was a good party. Do you want me to wash the glasses now?’ Janet asked, entering the kitchen with some leftover food.
‘No, I think we’ll leave them for the morning,’ Peggy said. ‘Nellie and Sheila washed most of them and these won’t take long tomorrow. Have you sorted out Maggie’s things for her nursery school?’
‘Yes, days ago,’ Janet said and came to put her arms around her. ‘Ryan gave me a huge present for her. I think it’s a doll’s house… but I’m half afraid to give it to her. She had lots of presents for her birthday and she’s being spoiled.’
‘Where on earth would he get somethin’ like that?’ Peggy asked and shook her head in wonder. ‘He’s goin’ to spoil you both, you know.’
‘Yes, if I let him,’ Janet said and sighed. ‘I hope you don’t mind he insisted on givin’ me this now?’ She looked at her ring. ‘I mean with Dad still in hospital and all…’
‘Your father will be pleased,’ Peggy said. ‘He will look after you; give you a nice house and clothes – and more children. And he’s the father Maggie needs.’
‘Yes, but does it seem too soon…?’ Janet looked anxious and uncertain. ‘I don’t want anyone to think I’m uncaring…’
‘If you’re happy, nothin’ else matters,’ Peggy said. ‘I think you do love him – or you will once you stop feelin’ guilty that you’re alive and Mike isn’t…’
‘Mum!’ Janet looked at her as if she’d struck her.
‘Well, it’s true, isn’t it?’ Peggy gave her a straight look. ‘You’re my daughter, Jan, and I know you. Mike is dead and you stuck by him when a lot of girls would’ve said enough was enough. Now you can start to live again and to be happy. And that makes me happy…’
‘What about you, though?’ Janet said. ‘Maureen has everything she wants, or she will have when Gordon gets home. Anne is over the moon with the thought of her new baby later in the year. Pip and Sheila are happy. Ellie has gone off to a new life in the country and Rose is engaged to Jimmy… but what about you?’
‘What about me? I’m all right. I’ve got you, Maggie and Pip and the twins, and I’m happy for my friends… what more do I need?’
‘Something just for you,’ Jan said. ‘I know Dad wants to make things work between you – but is that what you really want?’
Peggy met her questing look. ‘To be honest, I’m damned if I know, Jan. I know what I’ll do and that is to carry on the same as usual – but what I want…’ She shook her head.
‘Is it still Able?’ Janet asked, putting her arms about her. ‘I know you really loved him, Mum. I just wish he’d walked in this evenin’…’
‘Oh, Jan…’ Peggy gave a little sob. ‘It was so simple once. I was angry with Laurie and I would’ve left him if Able had come back even a few months ago, but now… I’m not sure if I could leave Laurie even if Able did come back, not after what he did…’
‘Dad was so brave, and I know what you mean. I went to see him at the hospital to tell him I loved him and I couldn’t stop cryin’ when he apologised to me for refusin’ Mike when he asked if we could get married, and for hittin’ him when we told him I was pregnant… Pip has made it up with him too…’
‘Let’s go to bed, love,’ Peggy said, her eyes stinging because it was suddenly all too much. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow…’
She followed her daughter into the hall, but went into the bar just to make sure everything was as it should be. Her gaze went round the room. She’d locked the door earlier, so there was no need to try it… But something was lying on the floor just inside the door. A white envelope – big, like a birthday card. Someone must have dropped it on his or her way out. She walked over to pick it up, turned it and saw her own name written in a bold script she knew instantly.
Able had written this card! Peggy knew it instinctively, even as she tore it open to find a pretty card with roses on the front. There was no verse inside, just an inscription:
To my beautiful Peggy with all my heart.
Yours forever, hon. Love you, Able – and I’m glad you’re happy…
Peggy went cold all over and her heart stood still. She looked at the envelope quickly but there was no postmark. The card had been hand-delivered – Able was alive! He was alive and he’d been in the lane this evening… only moments ago, because this hadn’t been here when she’d locked up.
Peggy fumbled with the locks, throwing the door open and rushing into the lane, his name on her lips. The unlit street lamps gave her no light, but the moon sailed out obligingly from behind a bank of dark clouds to show her that the lane held no shadowy figures waiting for her to appear. If Able had delivered her card himself, he hadn’t stopped to see what she did about it.
She stared each way, willing him to appear, but there was nothing, no movement, and she went in again and relocked the door, trembling and feeling sick with shock.
Able was alive! Why had no one told her before? Why had there been no letters, no word from anyone?
Making her way upstairs, Peggy entered her room and sat on the bed. Silent tears were dripping down her cheeks. She looked at the card again and then held it to her breast as she let the sensations flood through her – sheer joy that he was alive, disbelief that no one had told her, bewilderment that it could have happened like this and faint hope.
But there was no address on the card. There was no way she could contact Able…
Even if Able was alive, it didn’t mean he still wanted to be with her. He’d said that he loved her and he was glad she was happy… but she wasn’t; she wasn’t happy and never could be without him.
‘Able…’ she whispered as she lay down on her bed and turned on her side, curling her knees to her chest as she held the card to her and wept. ‘Oh Able, why didn’t you come in, my love – why haven’t you written to me or been to see me?’
Why had there been no communication of any kind? Was this a malicious joke? Yet she knew that bold scrawl. It was on the notes and letters Able had sent her while they were together.
If he loved her, why hadn’t he come in to speak to her? How long was he in the country for? Would he come to see her another day when there weren’t so many people around?
Peggy’s thoughts were whirling round and round in her head as she tried to make sense of it all. Could she let herself believe that Able had come back from the dead? Should she? How was it possible? Yet she knew that in war and with the Atlantic between them letters could go astray, though he could have phoned… but… The questions followed thick and fast. There was no denying this card and there might have been others… letters that went astray.
Peggy curled up like a ball, hugging herself and thinking long into the night. Even if Able was alive, even if he still loved her and wanted her – how could she leave Laurie now? With the shadow of a terrible illness perhaps hanging over him and everyone praising him to the skies for his bravery in saving Maureen from a knife attack – how could Peggy ever turn her back on her husband now?
The truth hit her like a bolt of lightning. She was trapped, because her own sense of what was right and wrong wouldn’t let her desert Laurie if he needed her. His act of bravery apart, he was her lawful husband and it looked as if he was going to be ill for some time; he would need care and love if he was to get throu
gh what could be a terrible ordeal.
Maureen had pretended that she didn’t know what was wrong with him, but Peggy had a good memory. She’d lived in the East End of London all her life and she’d known plenty of people with consumption. TB was a killer still. If Laurie had that it would be awful for him, even though they could do more for patients now than they had when his uncle died.
Peggy got up and went to the bathroom to wash her face. She looked at herself in the mirror and faced the truth. Once upon a time she’d loved Laurie so much that she’d thought her love would last a lifetime. Now all she felt was a pale shadow of that love, but it was still there – and it would make it impossible to leave him while he needed her.
Even if Able came to her and asked her if she would go away with him, Peggy knew she couldn’t. Her life was here at The Pig & Whistle, taking care of Laurie and the pub, and her children – all of them.
‘I loved you, Able,’ she whispered to the night as she looked out of the landing window at the empty lane. ‘I still love you and I think I always shall – but it’s too late.’
Chapter 29
‘Shirley said it was Carol’s birthday tomorrow,’ Maureen said as she offered the sponge cake she’d filled with jam and butter cream. She was standing outside a terraced house with peeling paint on the door and the window frames, and the street looked far worse than any of the lanes around Maureen’s home, though the nets were clean in most houses in the street. ‘I made this for her because she’s such a good friend to Shirley.’
Vera Brooks looked at her but she didn’t smile. She hesitated as if she was on the verge of shutting the door in Maureen’s face, but then she relented and stood back to invite her in. The first thing Maureen noticed was that the kitchen was spotlessly clean, even though everything in it was old and shabby, the bright yellow cloth on the table had been neatly mended, but it was clean, as were the nets at the windows.
‘It’s very good of you, Mrs Hart. I know Carol gets on well with your Shirley at school…’
‘Please, call me Maureen. I hope you will all enjoy the cake…’ She saw the little girl in the playpen. Carol’s younger sister was clean, but her dress was clearly old and much washed. It was quite obvious that Vera could hardly put food on the table, let alone buy new clothes for her children. ‘I wondered… if I could possibly ask you a favour?’
‘Me – do you a favour?’ Vera looked at her in disbelief. ‘I’m sure you don’t need my help, Mrs Hart…’
‘Oh, but I do. I really do,’ Maureen said and sat down at the pine table, even though she hadn’t been invited. ‘I need someone to serve in the wool shop. I expect you heard what happened to Mabel Tandy?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Vera Brooks said. ‘That was a wicked thing…’ She hesitated, then, ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Yes, that would be lovely.’ Maureen ventured a smile as the other woman filled a kettle and put it on the range to heat. ‘Mabel was a good friend, Vera. I knew her when I wasn’t much bigger than your little one. She used to knit me cardigans and give me one of her tarts when I went round to visit, and I miss her very much.’
‘Well, of course…’ Vera looked at her, clearly curious now. ‘Are you really goin’ to keep the shop open?’
‘Yes, I hope to. I shall sell wool and used baby clothes, as Mabel did, and perhaps take in good-quality women’s clothing to resell – on a sale or return basis with commission for the shop. After the war I want to make it a proper baby shop. I’d like to sell cots and layettes and even pushchairs and less expensive prams – the sort that most mothers in the lanes can afford.’
‘What a wonderful idea,’ Vera said and for the first time there was a flicker of a smile in her eyes. ‘But why have you asked me to serve in the shop? There are plenty of young women who would be much better at it than I should…’
‘I don’t think so,’ Maureen said and looked her in the eyes. ‘Most of them earn more than I could offer at the factories – but I was hoping that you might live over the shop and accept the living quarters as a part of your wage. I could pay thirty shillings a week plus the flat…’
‘Thirty shillings and the flat…’ Vera looked at her in disbelief and then a little sob escaped her. ‘I pay fifteen shillings for this wretched place. I’ve been so worried… My landlord told me that if I was late with the rent again he would throw me out…’ A tear rolled down her cheek, but she brushed it away impatiently. ‘My sister-in-law would have Milly for a few hours during the morning, but she works in the afternoons…’ Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Did Carol tell Shirley that I’d been lookin’ for work?’
‘No, she told Shirley she didn’t think she would have a present for her birthday, but nothing more.’ Maureen’s gaze was steady and open. ‘I’m not offerin’ you charity, Vera. I do need someone to look after the shop. I know you have children, but we could make it work, I’m sure we could. The little girl could be with you most of the time, and there’s a playpen you can have. And I would prefer someone like yourself rather than a young girl who might leave at a moment’s notice… Besides, not everyone would be prepared to live and work there after what happened…’
‘Because Mabel was murdered?’ Vera looked thoughtful for a moment, then, ‘I’m not frightened of ghosts, Maureen. Besides, I knew Mabel and liked her. She wouldn’t harm anyone, alive or dead. I used to go there when I had the money to buy wool for knitting. Sometimes, I just went for a chat and a cup of tea.’
‘So will you at least think about accepting my offer?’
‘No, I shan’t think about it,’ Vera said and Maureen was sharply disappointed, but then she laughed as Vera stood up and came round the table to offer her hand. ‘I’ll take it and I’d like to move in as soon as possible please…’
‘I’m so pleased!’ Maureen cried, surprised and delighted at how quickly Vera had decided. ‘I’m sure one of our neighbours would have Milly for a few hours in the afternoons if you wanted, Alice or Mavis are always ready to oblige – but I don’t mind if she stays with you in the shop. She can have her playpen just as Beth used to… as long as you’re sure.’
‘Yes, I’d like to give notice here this week and move in next,’ Vera said. ‘If I could meet you there one day – not tomorrow, because that’s Carol’s birthday and now I’ll be able to get her a little something. I’ve been terrified of spending what little I have, because my Roger’s pension from the Army isn’t much and I had to fight to get it. I keep thinkin’ they might take it away again… because I can’t prove we was married. The registry office where we took our vows was bombed during the Blitz and I couldn’t find me lines, so they said I wasn’t entitled…’
‘That’s so unfair,’ Maureen said. ‘Did you find the marriage certificate in the end?’
‘No, I think it got lost when we was bombed ourselves. I had to swear on oath I was Roger’s wife and me sister-in-law had to swear that she was a witness and even then they grudged it to me…’
‘As if it was your fault it got lost,’ Maureen said. ‘So many people have lost documents, photographs and sometimes all they owned in this wretched war. The authorities should make it easier for us rather than trying to put obstacles in the way.’
‘Well, that’s what I said, but I had to argue for months before they would let us take the oath and then what they gave me was hardly worth havin’. I tried goin’ to work, scrubbin floors, but Milly took sick and I couldn’t leave her. She has only just got over it…’
‘I’m sorry you’ve had such a bad experience,’ Maureen said. ‘We all have enough troubles without having to jump through hoops for some petty little Hitler in an office.’
Vera nodded emphatically, her mouth grim. ‘I’m not the only one who’s had trouble,’ she said, ‘but now it looks as if my luck has turned.’
‘I think it will be good for both of us,’ Maureen said. ‘Once the war is over and I can build up the shop, I’ll make you my manageress on more money, and take on an assistant.’
>
‘Well, we have to get it up and runnin’ again,’ Vera said practically. ‘There may be some women who won’t feel like shopping with us because of what happened to Mabel – but that shouldn’t last long.’
‘I think once people see that you’re prepared to live there they’ll realise it’s foolish to feel uncomfortable – and lots of women have wool put by, which I think they will want to buy. It isn’t easy to match the colour if you don’t buy from the same batch. Once the ice is broken they’ll come back again and again.’
‘I’ve been caught that way with matchin’ wool shades more than once,’ Vera agreed. ‘Now, I think I’d better make that tea, Maureen and talk some more about the future.’
*
‘I think that was lovely of you, Maureen,’ Peggy said when she told her that Vera Brooks was going to run the wool shop. ‘I saw her in the market one day and she looked tired to death. Her husband used to drink here before the war and he brought Vera in sometimes for her birthday or Christmas. I felt sorry for her when I heard he’d been killed, not long after it started – and her with two young children and another on the way. She lost her baby…’
‘I didn’t know that,’ Maureen said and put protective hands to her stomach. ‘I wanted a woman I could trust not to run off five minutes after she takes the job, and I think Vera is just what I need. Young girls come and go – but she will need a few hours off on Saturdays and perhaps some afternoons…’
‘I think Janet would do a few hours,’ Peggy said.
‘It would be a help until I get over havin’ the baby,’ Maureen said. ‘Gran says I’m takin’ on too much, but I’ve always liked Mabel’s shop and I think we need it in the lanes. And I’ll be losing Tom to the Army soon… I’ll need a full-time assistant there for a while.’
‘Why don’t you ask Rose?’ Peggy said. ‘She hates the factory – she told me so this mornin’. I think she might take on a few hours in either shop…’
