Stormy Days On Mulberry Lane

by Rosie Clarke

  He frowned as his mind returned to his problem. He would be much happier if he could sell the property that he’d done up in the lane rather than the cottage his family loved. However, the bank already had it as surety against the five hundred he’d borrowed at the start. Perhaps selling the cottage was his only real option, but he was still reluctant. Even though it seemed that no one actually wanted to go down at the moment, he knew that the second it had gone, one of his children would ask when they were going there. However, it looked like the only way to cover the money he needed to finish his project off as he’d planned. He might find someone to take the project over and clear himself, but he would be bound to lose most of the profit he’d expected to earn.

  He felt annoyed with himself for not factoring in the possibility of there being an unexploded bomb buried beneath the earth. After all, it was a bombed-out factory and the reason he’d bought it cheap at the end of the conflict – but he’d imagined the site had been cleared of all dangerous materials. He should have known there had to be a catch!

  It seemed an impossible problem, because although he had two alternatives, neither of them was perfect. He could sell the cottage his family loved and finish his project as he’d hoped or sell the boarding house, and that wasn’t truly an option.

  Racking his brains for someone who might loan him the extra, Able shook his head. Either he had to cut his losses, which would mean letting Tom Barton down, after all his hard work and his integrity, or he had to let the cottage go… which meant he had to tell Peggy the truth.

  31

  ‘Oh, Able,’ Peggy exclaimed when he made his confession later that evening. ‘Why on earth didn’t you say before? Of course, you must sell it – why throw away all yours and Tom’s hard work?’

  ‘I didn’t want to disappoint you or the children, hon,’ he said. ‘I know I’ve let you down, but I thought I had it all costed…’

  ‘I’ve heard builders moaning about the hidden costs in the pub many times,’ she told him. ‘I’ve heard them complaining about expenses mounting when things don’t go to plan. It’s just bad luck that when you dug down you found that unexploded bomb, love.’

  ‘It wasn’t just that,’ Able admitted. ‘The water had to be redirected and there was a problem with the electricity connection; the costs just spiralled and before I knew where I was, it had gone up, with bank charges, to nearly a thousand pounds.’

  ‘I have about fifty in the bank you could have,’ Peggy said. ‘Pip doesn’t want anything for the lease of the Pig & Whistle. I gave it to them and he will return the favour – if Sheila wants to move…’

  ‘Do you think she will?’ Able asked, his own problems forgotten for the moment. ‘Her friends are here and she loves cooking and being the landlady.’

  ‘I imagine she will do whatever he wants,’ Peggy said thoughtfully. ‘He has been a bit moody for a while and she thought he was dissatisfied with her – but it is because he wanted to move for his work and wouldn’t ask her while she was pregnant.’

  ‘What about you?’ Able asked with a frown. ‘You moved up here to be near them and now they could be moving away, do you feel a bit upset over that?’

  ‘No, not really,’ Peggy replied. ‘Naturally, I’m disappointed that I shan’t see the children as much as I’d thought, but I helped Sheila through the pregnancy and I’m home, Able. The café and our life down there, was an adventure and I enjoyed every minute of it – but the lanes are where I have so many friends. It’s a good life and I love it. Rose was here this morning with her youngest two; Jenny has started full-time school and she felt a bit at a loss. She is like another daughter-in-law, because I’ve always been a second mother to Tom.’ She smiled at him brightly. ‘Go ahead and tell everyone that we’re selling the cottage – and be sure to tell Pip…’

  ‘Why Pip in particular?’

  ‘Oh, just a feeling,’ she said and her mouth quirked at the corners. ‘Of course, if I won that competition, you might not have to sell it…’

  ‘That money is yours, Peggy, and I’d never dream of putting you under pressure.’

  ‘I know – and I doubt I stand a chance,’ she replied, ‘but I can dream.’

  ‘How did you guess?’ Able asked Peggy when the children had gone upstairs after eating their supper. ‘Pip shot the question at me the moment I told him we were going to put it up for sale.’

  ‘It isn’t far from where he works. Once he is over this accident, he can drive in every day, and there is a convenient station until then – and he knows Sheila loves it.’

  Able nodded. ‘You’re a wise and thoughtful lady, Peggy Ronoscki.’

  ‘It’s a mother’s instinct… What are you asking for the cottage?’

  ‘I told him it had to be twelve hundred pounds,’ Able said. ‘I won’t let it go for less, even to family, hon, because it wouldn’t solve the problem and it was valued at twelve to fifteen hundred.’

  ‘So, what did Pip say?’

  ‘He asked would I give him a week to decide…’ Able looked thoughtful. ‘I think he wants it, but perhaps he doesn’t have quite that much saved.’

  ‘It surprised me when it was valued, and I know you were offered more, Able,’ Peggy said and nodded. ‘I’d have said let him have it a bit less if we could, but there’s no point. We have to sell – unless there is another way…?’

  ‘I should have to mortgage the Mulberry Lane boarding house too and that would leave us without a nest egg to fall back on if things went wrong. We have to think of ourselves and the twins, hon.’

  ‘Yes, we do,’ she agreed. ‘I’ve given Pip his share in the past. No, you stick to what you need, Able. It’s our future too.’

  He nodded but didn’t smile. It didn’t feel right charging family so much, but he really had no choice.

  ‘What do you think?’ Pip asked his wife after his daughter finally fell asleep that night. ‘It would take every penny we have spare, but I’ll be earning double what I do now – and the cottage is perfectly situated. I’m a half an hour’s drive away from the new office. I’ll be the head of my department…’

  Sheila sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him. His homecoming had been quiet, because he wanted it that way and, so far, he’d spent most of his time either resting in bed or in an armchair Tom Barton had carried up for him. However, he’d had his drawing board on his lap when she came to bed earlier and was clearly itching to return to his work.

  ‘I love Able’s cottage,’ Sheila said thoughtfully, ‘and it is only forty minutes on the train to my mother’s home. She is always on at me to go back that way. It would certainly please her…’

  ‘But are you happy with the move?’ Pip asked and frowned. ‘The contract is for six years – at the end of that time we might come back to London if you wanted?’

  ‘I’ve told you before; I’ll go wherever you want, Pip.’ She looked at him anxiously. ‘It will be easier for you, but do you need to be thinking about work so soon? You were very ill for a while, Pip. I thought you might die…’

  ‘I know – and it was waking up to find you there that made me recover – but work is important to me, love. I never fancied the life my parents had. I want more for us, Sheila, and it’s down there I’ll find what I’m looking for.’

  ‘Then of course we should go.’

  ‘I’m asking what you want and need?’

  ‘To see you happy the way you used to be,’ Sheila said because she could see that he wasn’t convinced. ‘Also, I’d rather you didn’t have too much driving after that accident…’

  ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he protested.

  ‘I know – but the doctors said it would be better to live more quietly if we can, at least for a while.’

  ‘What will you do? It will mean giving up your shop and the pub – your customers and your friends.’

  ‘I’ll make new friends and join things,’ she replied and smiled at him. ‘I love Peggy and Maureen, and my customers, but you and the children are my wor
ld, Pip. When the children are both at school, I might get a little job – or open another shop. To be honest, it was getting a little difficult managing the pub and the shop with the new baby, even with all the help I get.’

  Pip nodded. ‘In time, I’ll help you to get a business for yourself, but I think you need some time to be just a mum and my wife. You’ve done nothing but work since my mother moved away.’

  ‘We’ll miss her,’ Sheila said. ‘I hope she doesn’t feel we’re letting her down. She moved here to help me…’

  ‘And she did while you needed her,’ Pip said. He looked her in the eyes. ‘So, should I tell Able I’ll offer him eleven hundred; it’s what I’ve got saved…’

  ‘No, he needs all of it or he wouldn’t ask,’ Sheila said and smiled. ‘I’ve saved most of my money for years. I can let you have the extra.’

  Pip frowned, reluctant to take her money. ‘If you’re sure, I’ll accept the promotion and we’ll move down as soon as I can manage it, hopefully before December.’ He was feeling much better in himself, though still sore in lots of places and hobbling on one foot with crutches to save the ankle he’d broken.

  ‘Will you be well enough? Why don’t we wait for at least two months?’ Sheila said. ‘I’d like to be here for when Peggy is in that competition.’ She smiled. ‘She asked me to show her how I make almond macaroons again.’

  ‘All right, we’ll move towards the middle of December – though I might have to go down a few days before and open up the cottage. My firm have told me they will pay for a driver to take me about until I’m really on my feet again.’

  ‘They must want you badly!’

  ‘They say I’m one of their bright hopes for the future,’ Pip grinned. ‘I’m not going to be digging roads, Sheila, just sitting at home working or driving into the office for meetings a few times a week.’ He’d thought it all out and just like in the war, when he’d received an injury that had threatened his career, he was determined to get back to work as soon as he could. All she could do was to be there for him and make him rest as much as possible.

  ‘I’ll ask Peggy what she wants to do with the furniture,’ Sheila said, looking thoughtful. ‘If she doesn’t want it, we might do an exchange of what’s here for there and I’ll pay any extra.’

  ‘If I know Mum, she’ll give it to you,’ Pip replied and grinned. ‘I’ll leave all that stuff to you two.’

  Sheila agreed and he left to visit the bathroom. She would miss seeing Maureen and Peggy every day and Chris would miss his cousins. The first thing she must do was to find out where he could continue with his music lessons. It was likely to be some distance, so perhaps she should learn to drive; it would be easier down there in the Devonshire area than relying on the branch lines for the railway.

  Shaking her head, Sheila climbed into bed. Everything was going to be different soon, but she’d been brought up in the country and believed she would soon make friends. It was just a case of baking for church events and village fetes and she could do that easily. Maureen and Peggy would continue with the cake shop as before; she would miss her income from that and the pub, as it had enabled her to be independent and save money; she had another fifty-five pounds saved besides what Pip needed, but it would have to last her a long time.

  ‘Of course, I don’t want anything extra for the furniture,’ Peggy said. ‘Able will pop down and bring back the twins’ things and a couple of bits I’d like to keep, but the rest is yours.’

  ‘I’ll do the same with our stuff – we’ll take the personal bits.’ Sheila laughed. ‘Quite a lot of it is still what you left for us. We bought a new bed last year and I did a refit to the kitchen, but the rest hasn’t changed much.’

  ‘I’ll be taking the furniture we’re using here and get rid of what I don’t want at the pub.’ Peggy smiled softly. ‘Pearl is thrilled to be moving in here and she’ll bring her own furniture. Her daughter can come here from school and she doesn’t have a bus journey to work – and there’s no rent.’

  ‘You’re not charging her rent?’

  ‘No, it will be a part of her wage,’ Peggy said. ‘Pearl is a treasure – just like her name. I want to look after her, Sheila.’

  Sheila nodded. ‘You’re generous to everyone, Peggy. If that counted in the competition, you would win hands down.’

  ‘Oh, it’s just a bit of fun as far as I’m concerned,’ Peggy said. ‘I don’t expect to win, so I shan’t be disappointed.’

  Sheila laughed and hugged her. ‘Well as far as I’m concerned, you’re the best…’ She hesitated, then, ‘Why did you want me to show you my recipe for the almond macaroons again? What are you going to do?’

  ‘Come and look,’ Peggy invited. ‘I’ve made what I’m thinking of doing as my cake on the day, but there’s a small problem you might help me with.’

  She’d been working on her menu for the competition for the past few weeks. It was fortunate that she had quite a few travelling salesmen in rather than the families she’d hosted in the summer, because serving shepherd’s pie up for four days in the week would otherwise have been out of the question, even though everyone enjoyed it. For her family, she served an entirely different meal each evening and by the end of that week, she was satisfied that she had it just right. Her cake was an almond-flavoured sponge covered with whipped fresh cream and decorated with tiny almond macaroons.

  The only thing that was still heavily rationed now was sugar, most other foods were available if the shops had them in. Gordon often had extra quantities of sugar and other bits and pieces. He shared any surplus out equally between his regular customers but told her one morning that if she needed more for the competition, she was to let him know and he would make sure she had what she needed.

  ‘I’ll need extra sugar, eggs and golden syrup – one large tin,’ Peggy had told him with a smile. ‘I want it for my cake – just a little flavouring.’

  ‘I’ll make sure you have all you need,’ Gordon had promised. ‘My Maureen would have my guts for garters if you needed something and I hadn’t saved it for you.’ He’d smiled. ‘We’ll never forget what you did for us, Peggy – and for everyone in the lanes. It was your fighting spirit, your smile that kept them all going round here.’

  ‘That’s ages ago,’ Peggy had said, shaking her head. ‘I only ever did what came into my head, Gordon. People were struggling and when you see that, you help them in any way you can, even if it’s just a free drink, somewhere to shelter or a piece of apple pie…’

  ‘Your apple pie was famous for miles,’ he’d replied, nodding as he remembered. ‘Everyone was moaning about wartime food, but you gave us something tasty at the Pig & Whistle. How did you manage that?’

  ‘It’s what you put in extra that matters,’ Peggy said. ‘I looked everywhere for spices and herbs that were different and I experimented. If the food tasted better, I used them again and gradually increased the amounts as I began to know what worked.’ She’d smiled reminiscently. ‘When all you have to offer is pastry made with marge, powdered egg and vegetables, you have to make them taste exotic and flavoursome. If you just cook them the normal way and bung them into a messy plateful people turn their nose up and I don’t blame them – but I was lucky. Reg brought me lots of stuff from his allotment and it’s amazing what celery, onions and carrots can taste like with the right additions.’

  He’d nodded thoughtfully. ‘I like celery soup – but no one – not even Maureen – makes it quite like you.’

  ‘And I shan’t tell her you said that,’ Peggy had laughed and he’d gone away with a smile on his face.

  Everyone knew that she was going to be in the competition and several of the residents offered her things from their allotments. She accepted each offering gratefully, because she was planning a party for all her regulars nearer Christmas and she would bottle fruit and store what would keep, and a lot of them would be used, when she made the party food.

  Sheila hadn’t told anyone she was leaving yet and Peggy had kept the
fact that she would be taking the pub over secret. It would be announced at the party and everyone could join in the celebrations. Busy and happy, they all made their preparations and got on with what needed to be done, just as they always had.

  ‘Was it Olive who beat Gillian and half-starved her?’

  ‘Yes – but she claims it was to protect her because she was a bad girl who went with men. She said Gillian ran off with Nate Parker and, when he mistreated her, she stabbed him and went back to her aunt. According to her aunt, she was always going off with men and then crawling back when they didn’t treat her right.’

  ‘Do you believe her?’ Peggy demanded angrily.

  ‘Not one word and nor will the jury,’ Sergeant Poole replied. ‘We’ve got her confession that she administered the beating that led to Gillian’s death – and it was my constable who wrote her name down as “J. Carr” by mistake. He thought Jilly must be spelled with a “J” and he never got the aunt’s address only the father’s. I’ll be putting him on report for that piece of slapdash work – had we known her name was Gillian and more about her circumstances sooner we might have prevented what happened after she left you. Of course, Gillian should never have gone back to her aunt, but I suppose she just ran off blindly when she left yours and sought the only refuge she knew.’

  ‘It wasn’t a refuge, though, was it?’

  ‘No, it certainly wasn’t – but a girl like that becomes so downtrodden that they can’t think for themselves. Her aunt claims she wouldn’t eat, but I think she’d been shut in a cellar and starved to punish her – and we found some things of yours in the cellar, too. A ring and an amethyst brooch – they’re what was lost, isn’t that so?’

  ‘Yes, the brooch belongs to Alice and the ring to Able. I thought she must have sold them.’

  ‘Her aunt said she gave her some money, which she claimed to have earned. Perhaps she hoped to placate her, but it didn’t save her from the beatings, the starving or being shut in a filthy cellar. It was no wonder she was half-mad when she attacked you, Peggy. Continual ill-treatment must have driven her mad…’