by Rosie Clarke
Stormy Days On Mulberry Lane
Rosie Clarke
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
More from Rosie Clarke
About the Author
About Boldwood Books
1
Peggy smiled as she felt her husband Able move carefully from their bed. It was early on Sunday morning, June 1950, and they’d been back in London nearly three months now. She understood immediately why her beloved husband was getting up and trying not to wake her. It was only five o’clock and she’d been up until nearly midnight the previous evening, serving and then clearing up in the pub to help her daughter-in-law Sheila, because Pip, her husband, was away on business. Rose Barton, who often helped out in the bar of the Pig & Whistle, hadn’t been feeling too well. Her doctor had advised her to take things easy for a couple of weeks because her blood pressure had been slightly raised.
‘I’d love to help Sheila more,’ Rose had told Peggy when she was asked, ‘but Tom is so excited about this baby and I daren’t risk anything.’ Tom Barton was the local builder, handyman and a good friend to them all. ‘He says I should sit at home and listen to the plays on the wireless.’
‘Did you listen to the play the other night?’ Peggy asked. ‘I missed it, but it was repeated the other night. It’s good…’
‘Yes, but I’d rather be in the pub with friends. I’m sure I’m fine to work…’
‘You probably are,’ Peggy had agreed, smiling at her. She was by her own reckoning just two or three weeks more advanced in her pregnancy than Sheila, who was around six months. ‘But why risk anything when this baby means so much to you both?’
‘That’s what Tom says,’ Rose had laughed and blushed. ‘He would smother me in cotton wool if he could, Peggy.’
‘That’s because he adores you,’ Peggy had reminded her and Rose agreed. ‘Just be glad he cares so much, Rose – and don’t worry about Sheila. I can help her, just as I always do when she needs it.’
Peggy smiled as she stretched and eased her limbs in bed, watching Able dress. She hadn’t minded doing her bit in the pub the previous evening, even though it meant leaving Able to sit in with the twins. She’d found him dozing in his chair when she got home, the wireless on and a book on the floor beside him. Waking, he’d smiled at her as she presented him with a cup of milky cocoa. Able never grumbled, because he knew that taking Fay to the ice rink was why they were back in London and Peggy was thriving on being at the heart of things again. Fortunately, despite her husband Pip’s fears, Sheila was carrying her second baby well, much better than she had her first. She’d had a couple of faints earlier on in the pregnancy, but since Peggy had been back to tell her to rest and not do too much, taking on some of her workload, Sheila’s health had picked up.
Reflecting on the way her daughter-in-law was blooming, Peggy felt it was simply because she felt reassured by their presence. Sheila got on very well with Able, who smiled at her in his soft casual way, and his gentle considerate manner towards her seemed to have rubbed off on Pip, who had become very attentive to his wife all of a sudden. In fact, it had been Pip who had asked his mother to keep an eye on Sheila that evening.
‘I wouldn’t leave her if it wasn’t really important, Mum, but it’s work and I can’t get out of it. In fact, I ought to – well, that doesn’t matter…’ he’d said, looking worried and concerned. ‘I know she’s perfectly well, but I can’t stop thinking about her. If you hadn’t been here, I couldn’t have attended this conference.’
‘You have to go, it’s your work,’ Peggy had assured him. ‘Being a pub landlord isn’t exactly your vocation, Pip. It’s not your fault your wife’s barman chose this particular fortnight to take his annual holiday. Besides, Sheila loves serving in the bar and so do I – so you don’t have to persuade me to help out. I really enjoy it.’
‘The pub ought to be yours,’ Pip had said, frowning. ‘I know you had the lease transferred to us in case I couldn’t earn a living after my sight was affected during the war – but it’s yours by right.’
‘No, I don’t want to run it full-time,’ Peggy had replied firmly. ‘I have my boarding house and that is starting to do very nicely – helping out when I’m needed is a pleasure and I’ll always do that, but Sheila is the landlady now…’
‘Yes, and she loves it,’ he’d agreed, smiling ruefully. ‘I mustn’t take that from her just because these days I could quite easily pay the bills without what she earns.’
‘But she can provide extras for the family and save some for the future,’ Peggy had pointed out. ‘One day your son might want to buy his own house or business and Sheila may have enough saved to help – money is always useful, Pip, and it’s a part of life to work. Sheila doesn’t come from the leisure classes and she would get bored if all she had to do was run a home.’
‘Just like you, Mum.’ Pip had pulled a wry face. ‘Do you think that’s why I fell in love with her – don’t they say men fall in love with younger versions of their mothers?’
Peggy had laughed at him. ‘Idiot! Sheila might like some things I do – such as cooking and running a pub – but in other ways, she’s very different. I think Chris got his musical talent from her. It certainly didn’t come from me or your father.’
Pip shook his head. These days he didn’t like to speak about his father at all. At first, he’d resented his mother’s second husband, Able, taking his father’s place in Peggy’s heart and bed, but since talking long distance on the phone to his sister Janet a few times more recently, he seemed to have become a bit resentful of his late father.
‘No, definitely from Sheila’s side,’ he’d agreed decisively. ‘Her Great Uncle Sam was a musician. Chris hasn’t inherited anything from my father, thank God.’
Their conversation had ended then, leaving Peggy to raise an eyebrow. Laurie Ashley had been far from the perfect husband, his infidelity frequent in the last years before his death, but he’d been a good father to Pip and she would rather he didn’t become bitter towards him; he should have good memories. He hadn’t treated Peggy well, but Pip had no reason to resent him.
Becoming aware that Able was looking at her, Peggy smiled.
‘I’m sorry if I woke you, hon,’ her lovely husband said with a smile that made her heart leap for joy. ‘I promised to take Fay in for an early skating session. It starts at six-thirty, but the traffic is less at this hour.’
‘It takes quite a while to get to the Empress Hall in Earl’s Court. That is where she’s booked today, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. She is practising there for the moment because they will be holding the amateur championships there and she needs to get used to the rink for when her turn comes to be entered, but it’s quite a way, so I like to book the early session for her whenever possible.’ Abl
e was fully supporting his ten-year-old daughter’s ambitions to be a successful ice skater. Fay had a natural ability and with regular tuition was improving all the time.
‘Yes, I know,’ Peggy said and smiled. ‘I think I’m nearly ready to get up. I’ll get dressed and come down for a cup of tea.’
‘All right, I’ll put the kettle on.’
One of the first things Able had done when arriving at the boarding house was to install a splendid gas cooker. There was already a beautiful range that Peggy liked using for her cooking, but Able thought it was easier to heat a gas ring for the kettle – and when he cooked, he used the gas oven. Peggy didn’t mind that, in fact it suited her. If Able wanted to make pancakes, it didn’t interfere with anything she was making and she never felt he was invading her kitchen, which she might have, had he wanted to use her range.
Cooking was one of the vital things in Peggy’s life. She’d always done it and during the war it had become like a game of chess, the battle to find enough ingredients to make food taste good had been never ending. However, she’d always been lucky and some of her many friends had supplied her with lots of extras from their allotments.
Able wasn’t much of a vegetable gardener, but Peggy had many friends in the lanes around her home and the pub, which was the centre of the district, and most of them had allotments. So even during the war, she’d often had boxes of veg straight from a friend’s allotment. They still remembered the shortages during the war, though most food was readily available now; flour had been derationed a while ago, petrol had come out of rationing in May that year, also canned and dried fruit, syrup, treacle, jellies, mincemeat and some other things. Soap was still rationed, as was sugar and various other foodstuffs.
It still wasn’t easy to find some of the spices that made food that little bit special, but Peggy was adaptable and she often sought out small grocery shops run by people from different ethnic groups, like Indian, Greek, Italian and Jewish, which had begun to open up in the little lanes and side streets again. Mentally, she reviewed the little packets and jars on her pantry shelves – masala, paprika, turmeric, star anise, ginger, cayenne pepper, cumin, a mix of Chinese spices that were a mystery to her but made food taste wonderful, and so many herbs, both dried and fresh. Many of her friends wouldn’t even think of entering the shops she visited, but she’d found lots of different things on their shelves and they were always so friendly, always willing to explain to her what the different pastes and sauces were used for and, importantly, how much to use. Peggy always erred on the side of caution. She could add more of a new powder, but put too much in and it might be too hot to eat or simply too strong. Subtle flavours were always best, she felt, and she sometimes mixed a little of this and that just for fun, but tasting all the time, because food was too precious to waste.
Peggy smiled as she thought of the look on people’s faces when they tasted her soups and casseroles, the amazement when they encountered flavours they’d never known before and the way their eyes lit up. She’d always liked to experiment and during the war her imagination had had to stretch to find food worth serving in the Pig & Whistle, but she’d always loved to cook and could turn her hand to anything. Being married to Able and running the café at the seaside for a few years after the war had made her even more adventurous, because her husband’s love of certain American foods had opened her eyes to new combinations and flavours.
She was smiling in contentment as she went down to the kitchen. There was plenty of time to have a cup of tea with Able before he took the twins off to the ice rink. They would eat brunch when they returned, though Able and Freddie were already munching a piece of toast and marmalade when she joined them.
Peggy drank her tea and ate her toast. Able never let the fact that he was missing a part of his left arm stop him doing anything and he had made tea for her and coffee for himself. He was still able to buy the coffee he liked from American military friends and he drank it most of the time but never minded making tea for her in the morning. She sent him a look filled with love, wondering again just what she’d done to deserve such a wonderful husband.
‘You can manage the breakfasts for the guests alone?’ Able asked, a slightly anxious note in his voice as he looked at her. He was feeling guilty at leaving the work to her, though he was doing what she’d asked, taking the twins to their early session. Freddie was learning to play ice hockey while Fay concentrated on figure skating so they were company for each other, but even so, Peggy didn’t like them travelling alone too early in the morning or too late in the evening. She often let them catch the bus together, just the two of them, but not early and not late.
‘We have four gentlemen and one lady at the moment,’ Peggy said, smiling at him, ‘and you know Alice loves to set the tables for me and help me clear. She’d do far more if I’d let her…’ Alice was a friend she’d known for years and, on Peggy’s return to the lane, she had invited the elderly lady to live with them, because she was finding it hard to manage alone. Peggy wasn’t sure of her friend’s age, but she must be well into her seventies by now, though she didn’t let that slow her down or stop her helping Peggy out when she could.
‘I know, hon,’ Able bent to kiss her on the mouth. His kiss was soft yet lingered, telling her that he loved her. He winked and then turned to the twins. ‘Come on, you terrible pair, let’s get going and give your mum some peace.’
‘Bye, Mum,’ Fay said, already impatient to be gone.
‘Don’t work too hard, Mum,’ Freddie said and gave her a quick hug. ‘I’ll wash up when I get back.’
‘Thank you, darling, have a wonderful time.’ Peggy smiled as they left with a flurry of noise and laughter. She had no intention of leaving washing-up for her son to do on his return, though he would have gladly done it.
Her energy levels were building now that she’d had her pot of tea and her toast. She would start setting the trays for her guests and then, when they came down in about another hour and a half, she would cook the fried breakfast they all loved on Sunday mornings. First of all, she would start her baking.
‘I thought I heard you—’ Alice’s voice came from the doorway and Peggy turned to greet her with a smile. ‘I know it’s too early for breakfast, but I thought I might help you…’
‘I’ll make a cup of tea,’ Peggy said. ‘You can have your breakfast here in the kitchen with me if you like.’
‘Oh yes, I’d love that,’ Alice said and her lined face lit with pleasure. ‘The twins get off all right to their skating?’
‘Yes – I hope they didn’t wake you, Alice?’
‘No, I never sleep late in the mornings these days,’ Alice said. ‘Until you invited me to live here with you, Peggy, I hardly slept at all – but I feel so much safer here. Your bed is so comfortable and—’ She gave Peggy an oddly shy smile for such a normally confident woman. ‘You make me feel like a part of your family…’
‘You are part of my family,’ Peggy said. ‘The twins love you – they’ve adopted you as their granny – and we all enjoy having you here with us.’
Peggy had invited Alice to be a permanent guest at the boarding house because she’d known her friend of many years was finding it hard to make her small pension last the week. She would have taken her in for free, but Alice insisted on paying five shillings a week towards her food and she also helped wherever she could in the house. Light dusting, picking up discarded newspapers or setting and clearing tables in the dining room was a big help and Peggy considered that she had the best of the bargain.
‘I should be paying you,’ she’d told Alice when she’d been given the five shillings the previous day. ‘You help me so much, dearest Alice.’
‘I couldn’t accept your generosity then,’ Alice had told her. ‘Five shillings is less than I used to pay for rent. It leaves me plenty for anything I want… and I don’t have to worry how to pay my coal bill.’
To save her friend’s pride, Peggy had taken the five shillings and spent it on extra foo
d. There was always a cup of tea for Alice when she wanted it, and the elderly lady was very partial to Able’s pancakes. In fact, when asked what she would like for breakfast, she opted for pancakes with maple syrup and a squeeze of lemon rather than the bacon, egg, fried bread and tomatoes the other guests would all expect and enjoy.
‘I think I’ll have one with you,’ Peggy said and added the various ingredients into Able’s mixer, whisking up the mixture to the consistency Able had shown her long ago. She made a small pile of pancakes, keeping them warm in the top of the oven before carrying them to the table. Alice had set their places with little mats and knives and forks and they sat down together to eat their way through the sweet treat.
After they’d eaten and washed the delicious food down with a pot of Able’s favourite coffee for a change, Peggy washed up and Alice dried. They chatted together as old friends, about Peggy’s daughter Janet, now living in Scotland, and Sheila’s health. It was better than they’d thought it might be considering how ill she’d been with her first pregnancy, which was the reason Pip worried over her, perhaps unnecessarily this time around. Alice then sat and watched Peggy whisk up a coffee cake and two tins of almond-flavoured buns. The guests all loved Peggy’s cakes and most asked for afternoon tea every day once they’d tasted them. They might book for bed, breakfast with the option of tea and an evening meal, but once they tasted her food, they all wanted the extras.
When the cakes were in the oven, Alice picked up two of the trays Peggy had prepared earlier and carried them through to the dining room. Peggy followed with the second two and placed them on the gleaming oak sideboard just as the first guest arrived.
