A Wedding at Mulberry Lane Read online

  ‘They can’t really be attacking us at this hour, can they?’ Janet moaned as she rushed in last of all with Maggie in her arms.

  The cellar had been set up for use as a shelter since just before the war began, long before the Luftwaffe started bombing London every night. Peggy had gradually brought down mugs, glasses, blankets, cushions and a few chairs as well as a single mattress. She had a paraffin stove to boil a kettle and several large stone jars filled with water, which were refilled daily, and both candles and kerosene lamps to use if the electricity went off, but at the moment it was still on.

  ‘I’m sorry it’s on the rough side,’ Peggy apologised, mostly for Able’s benefit. He was looking about him with interest at the boxes and barrels stored there. From this part of the cellar it was impossible to see Laurie’s secret hoard of wines and spirits bought before the war. There was nothing illegal about them, because they’d been bought long before the war was announced, but even so, Laurence Ashley would almost certainly have been accused of hoarding if the authorities knew about his stores. Anyone hoarding these days could earn a stiff fine if it was discovered. ‘Please make yourself at home and have some coffee…’

  The coffee was hot and black and was the real stuff only because Able had supplied them with enough ground beans at Christmas to last for a couple of months. No one had thought about milk, though Peggy had some tins of condensed milk stored down here.

  ‘This makes it sweet and not so strong,’ she explained to Able as she opened a small tin and poured it into mugs with their coffee for Nellie, Anne and Janet.

  ‘I can drink it black, but I must have my sugar…’ He took half a dozen sugar lumps wrapped in a twist of paper from his pocket. ‘I carry these because most places don’t have much and I need at least three – anyone else like some?’

  Peggy said yes please and took two, preferring to taste the coffee black with sugar, as he did, to the sticky sweet taste of the condensed milk. That was something she used all the time now in cakes and puddings, because it took the place of both sugar and cream. Although Peggy qualified for extra rations because she catered for the paying public, she still couldn’t buy enough of what she would like to make her food as tasty as pre-war. Like every other housewife in the country she had to improvise and it was surprising what you could do with dried egg powder and condensed milk if you had to; it was just a case of adjusting the quantities until you got it right.

  Peggy cut the cake and passed it round and they all tucked in, laughing and talking instead of listening for the sound of bombs. Janet said she thought she could hear explosions in the distance, but it was quite a way off and must have been the other side of the river or even further away. Peggy thought it might be the East India Docks.

  Able entertained them, telling a story about how he’d been in a light aircraft with his general and forced to land in the desert somewhere because the fuel ran low. None of them knew the place he was talking about but they all laughed at his story and enjoyed listening to his rich southern voice and his quaint English.

  It was over an hour before they heard the all-clear. Peggy went outside once they were on ground level, and sure enough she could see smoke rising from the area where the London Docks were situated. Shivering in the cold air, she ran back inside the bar, telling Janet that she’d been right; it hadn’t been a false alarm but a brief daylight raid.

  The pub was opened again and a couple of lunchtime customers came rushing in. The rain had stopped and everyone was complaining about the cold, as they gathered in front of the fire Peggy kept going with logs and any kind of old wood she could find.

  More people were entering the pub, as if taking the chance to enjoy themselves because it wasn’t likely there would be another raid now, and Able paid for his slice of cake; though Peggy refused to charge him for the food offered in the shelter, he’d insisted on paying for coffee and cake before leaving with a promise to visit her soon.

  She watched him leave with mixed feelings. It was nice to feel admired and wanted, but she would be an idiot to let it become anything more – wouldn’t she?

  Peggy was busy serving until after the lunchtime period and it wasn’t until they were eating their own meal of corned beef hash that Janet teased her about the American.

  ‘Able really fancies you, Mum,’ she said. ‘I think you should have a bit of fun if you get the chance, but don’t think of it as permanent…’

  ‘Is anything ever?’ Peggy asked wryly. ‘Are you taking Maggie to the children’s clinic for her routine checks this afternoon?’

  ‘Yes, I am – do you want to come with me?’

  ‘I think I’ll have a sit-down before I start the evening food,’ Peggy said. ‘Maureen did say she might pop in after three, because she’s leaving for Portsmouth this evening and I shan’t see her for a while…’

  Chapter 3

  Maureen had spent most of the morning at the nursing home talking to Rory. He wasn’t happy that she’d been transferred out of London and had sulked for almost an hour. Rory was still trying to work out if his hasty marriage to Velma some years ago was legal or not, because he didn’t trust her not to lie over it again. He’d been drunk when he’d tumbled into bed with her that first time, drunk and miserable because of his break up with Maureen. Velma had lied when she told him her first child was his, tricking him into marrying her, and she’d hid the fact that his daughter had died of a fever soon after he left for service overseas; he knew she was capable of pretending to have been married to someone else before their marriage if it suited her. Velma would say anything to get her own way; she twisted and turned the facts to please herself, and he could never be sure when she was actually telling the truth.

  ‘I have to go, Rory,’ Maureen said and kissed him softly on the lips. ‘I’m not sure when I’ll get to see you again, but I’ll write and when I have a phone number I’ll send it to you.’

  ‘I don’t know why you had to join the volunteer service,’ he grumbled, but as she withdrew he grabbed her again and kissed her fiercely. ‘Sorry, Molly, I know I’m being mean, but I’d hoped we’d be together at last.’

  ‘If I’d known before I joined…’ Maureen shook her head as she saw his expression. His sullenness wasn’t attractive, but she put it down to his frustration at being stuck in hospital all this time. When she’d first met Rory it was his smile and the way he was always teasing and full of fun that had made her love him, but sometimes now it was difficult to remember what it had been like then, before they’d split up. ‘I just wanted a worthwhile job after all those years of being stuck in Dad’s shop and I wasn’t sure if you would ever want to see me…’ A look of sadness was in her soft brown eyes, because the break with her father had distressed her. She’d always loved him and done everything she could to please him, including giving up her hopes of marriage to the man she loved, but he’d repaid her by remarrying and driving her from her home.

  Rory reached out and took her hand, claiming her attention. Maureen shut out the tears that threatened. She’d fallen hard for Rory when they first met and she’d blamed herself for hurting him when she broke off their informal engagement to stay home and take care of her father. So although it had broken her heart when Rory married six years previously, she hadn’t blamed him; it was her fault for refusing to desert her father, and because she still cared for him, Maureen felt that it was only right she should give him the love and support he needed after his severe injuries. Besides, Velma had no intention of visiting him. She’d made that clear when Maureen asked her which hospital he’d been taken to when he was brought home injured after serving overseas.

  ‘I wouldn’t have joined the service if I’d known you wanted me, Rory,’ she said softly, a single tear escaping to trickle down her cheek.

  ‘That was my fault,’ he said and gave her his sweetest smile; it wrenched at her heart, making her remember the first time they’d met and he’d told her straight out that she was beautiful. ‘My hands were painful the first tim
e you visited the hospital and I thought I’d never be able to work again, but they’ve made such a good job of me that I feel like a man again. I’ll be able to do some sort of job when I get out of here. Besides, I couldn’t be sure I’d be free to marry you…’ The smile left his eyes. ‘If I get my hands on that bitch, I’ll thrash her…letting my kid die like that. I don’t care how many men she sleeps with but she shouldn’t have neglected the kid.’

  ‘I’m sorry about your little girl, because you would’ve made a good dad, but Velma isn’t cut out for motherhood,’ Maureen said, avoiding his gaze. She hadn’t told him what Velma had confessed to her in the shop, how she’d cheated on him, giving birth to another man’s child after he was sent overseas. She reached for his hand and held it. ‘I love you, and one day I hope we’ll have our own babies. I know it doesn’t make up for…’

  ‘Of course it does,’ Rory said and gripped her hand so hard that she almost protested. ‘I would’ve done my duty by the kid – but it has always been you I love, Molly. I want us to be married and have our own kids one day… if I’m ever able to provide a decent home for us…’ For a moment, uncertainty and doubt showed in his face once more.

  ‘You’ll work again.’ Maureen put all her love and trust into the smile she gave him. ‘I hope they won’t send you back out there, because you’ve done your share, Rory – but I’m confident that one day you’ll find work you can enjoy…’

  Rory looked anxious and she knew he was worrying about the eye that had been injured while he was fighting in France. His sight was still blurred and though he could see well enough with his right eye, his left might never fully recover. The doctors had done wonders for the burns on his face, and his hands were healing well, though he would always bear the scars, but neither of them cared about that – Rory because he’d never been vain and Maureen because she loved him.

  ‘Yes, I’ll find something,’ he said and kissed her cheek. ‘You’d better go, love, but I’ll be waiting for a letter – and they let us have phone calls in the day room so ring me in the afternoons if you can.’

  ‘Depends what shift I’m on,’ she said and kissed him again. At the door of the ward she turned and waved to him, her heart wrenching as she saw his shoulders droop. She knew the news of his child’s death and the callous behaviour of the woman he’d thought was his wife had first distressed and then angered him, but what she was seeing in him at this moment was sadness and disappointment – disappointment that his injuries had put him out of the war. He felt useless and redundant, as if his life were somehow over. Maureen wished she was going to be closer to Rory so that she could help him fight back and make a new life, but she’d taken on the job of auxiliary nurse at a time of loneliness in her own life, and she couldn’t just walk out on her employers.

  A part of her wanted to run back and tell Rory that she would get out of it somehow and return to him, but another part of her knew that she was needed at this time, when the hospitals had more patients than they could deal with. The wards were so full that the hospitals had had to spread out into prefabs or take over large houses that could be turned into convalescent homes. Besides, she wanted to prove she could hold down a job other than working for her father, and she needed to earn a living. Her father had never paid her a proper wage so she had very little money saved. Perhaps the war would be over by the time Rory was fit enough to leave the hospital and she could come back to help him find work and a home for them.

  Gran would take them in for as long as they needed it and Maureen was certain Rory would settle down once he left the hospital. He was still having small operations and ongoing treatment, which she knew he found irksome, but at least while he was there he didn’t have to do anything dangerous – like going back out to the Front.

  Maureen hated the war and everything to do with it. She read the newspapers every now and then, but the reports of defeat and casualties only depressed her and she was aware that things were not going well for the Allies. It was unthinkable that they could actually lose the war, but she knew it was the unspoken thought at the back of everyone’s mind. No true Brit would admit it, but the constant bombing of cities and ports was getting them all down, and the news of setbacks and defeats overseas was worrying. The one good thing was that Franklin D. Roosevelt had been installed as President of the United States of America for an unprecedented third term, so at least Britain still had an ally in that powerful country. With threats from all over and the war costing eleven million pounds a day, things looked dire.

  Maureen pushed the gloomy thoughts to a tiny corner of her mind. She just had time for a quick visit to Peggy and then she must collect her stuff from Gran and get on that train. She’d never been away from London in her life, other than for a day trip, and it was going to seem very strange living away from all those she loved and cared about…

  *

  ‘What yer, Maureen!’ a cheerful voice accosted her as she crossed the road to enter Mulberry Lane. Glancing towards the source of the cry, she saw a young sandy-haired lad standing atop a pile of rubble where a second-hand bookshop had once stood. ‘How yer doin’?’

  ‘What are you doin’ on that rubble?’ Maureen answered with a frown. ‘That’s dangerous, Sam. You want to be careful up there. You could fall and hurt yourself.’

  ‘Nah, it’s all right,’ he said, throwing her a cheeky grin. ‘I know what I’m doin’.’

  Maureen hesitated, but it was almost impossible to make lads of that age take notice, especially when their father was in prison and their mother simply couldn’t cope.

  ‘Just be careful then,’ she said and walked on, entering the lane and crossing the road to avoid passing her father’s shop. She didn’t want to speak to him or Violet just now, though she supposed she would have to go in briefly before she left for Portsmouth.

  Mulberry Lane consisted of two facing rows of houses and shops. On one side was her father’s grocery shop; a small wool shop came next and after that the hairdressers’ salon, double-fronted with two big windows, which had opened up only just before the war in what had been a bookmaker’s premises. Next to that was the lawyer’s office, but it had stood unused for more than a year and no one knew what had happened to the dapper little clerk who had run it for ages; the rooms over the top had been empty for as long as anyone could recall. Then came a large double-fronted building that had once been a bakery but closed down some years previously when the owner died suddenly of a heart attack. It was a shame to see it so neglected but no one knew what was happening about it, because the baker had only a brother who lived in America. Between the disused bakery and the pub was a tiny window that fronted the cobbler’s shop and then came the larger premises of the pub.

  On the other side of the lane were two groups of terraced houses, with little arched entrances that led to the back yards, all of which were quite small, containing the outside toilets, perhaps a shed and a washing line; the paths were paved but uneven and the cobbles in the road had holes between them, making carts rattle when they drove over them. Peggy had been on to the council several times but no one ever came to repair them.

  Maureen waved to Mrs Tandy at the wool shop, who was dusting the inside of her window, and stopped to have a word with Alice Carter and some of her other neighbours, who all wanted to know when she was leaving.

  ‘Later this afternoon,’ she told them. ‘I’ll have to get on, because I promised Peggy I would pop in and see her…’

  Passing the hairdressers’, she noticed Ellie outside looking at a notice in the window and waved to her.

  Ellie came rushing up to her, waving her left hand under Maureen’s nose. ‘I’m engaged,’ she said. ‘My Peter’s got leave at last so we’re havin’ a small do at the church next Saturday and he’s booked a little party at a posh hotel up West – can you come?’

  ‘I’d love to, Ellie,’ Maureen said, ‘but I’ll be gone by then. I’ll send you a card and a postal order so you can buy somethin’ nice…’ She smiled at the youn
g girl, who couldn’t have been more than seventeen, and admired her ring. ‘Lovely. I like rubies and pearls. ‘I’d better go…’

  ‘Yes – and I can see my perm on the way so I’d better get back inside…’ Ellie grinned and dashed back into the shop to prepare for her next customer, the strong odour of waving lotions and ammonia drifting out into the lane as the door opened.

  Maureen went under the archway into the pub yard at the back of the Pig & Whistle. There was an outside toilet and a large shed where old barrels were stored until collected by the brewery, and the cobbles were in slightly better condition than those in the lane. Peggy had a row of black cast-iron hooks either side of the door and in the spring she hung out baskets of spring flowers to brighten up the yard.

  The top half of Peggy’s back door was open and the smell of baking delicious, making Maureen feel hungry. She walked into the large comfortable kitchen, too used to the oak dresser with its array of blue and white china to take much notice, though she did notice that Peggy had some plants on her windowsill, which made it look bright and cheerful.

  ‘Ah, there you are, love,’ Peggy greeted her with a smile. ‘Just in time for a cuppa and a piece of apple pie…’

  ‘Lovely,’ Maureen said and smiled as she sat down at the long pine table on which stood the results of her friend’s hard work. ‘I’m really going to miss this, Peggy…’

  ‘You’ll miss seeing Rory too,’ Peggy suggested as she fetched cups and saucers from the dresser.

  ‘It’s awful havin’ to leave him now he wants to see me,’ Maureen said. ‘He wasn’t very happy this mornin’.’

  ‘I guessed Rory wouldn’t be too pleased,’ Peggy said as they shared a pot of tea. ‘I expect he’d hoped to see you more often when they told him he would be in London…’

  ‘He was pretty fed up,’ Maureen admitted. ‘I think he’s worried about what sort of job he’ll find.’