Stormy Days On Mulberry Lane Page 7

  ‘Of course, I will,’ Shirley said and gave her father a hug. ‘Mum already has my work address and I’ll be ringing you as soon as I can find a phone box. If my landlady allows calls, I’ll send you her number – and thank you again for all the money you gave me. This and the ten pounds the other day.’

  ‘That was to buy yourself something nice. This is just in case.’ He smiled at her lovingly and her heart caught. ‘I want my girl to be safe and secure. I know you’re not a child any more – but you don’t know much of the world and there are some mean folk out there, love. Be careful of them – and only trust the ones you know you can be sure of.’

  ‘Yes, Dad, I will,’ Shirley gave a little sob and hugged him once more, on the verge of tears. He might be old-fashioned and over-careful, but he loved her and she knew she was lucky. ‘I promise I shan’t do anything silly.’

  ‘I know that – I’m proud of my girl. I can’t wait for the day they give you your diploma and you’ll be Doctor Hart!’

  Shirley felt full of emotions all bubbling up inside her. She was excited to be going away on a summer adventure, but it was hard leaving the ones she loved and relied on at home – and it was even harder to carry the knowledge of her father’s pride in her. If she ever let him down, she would feel terrible… ‘It’s what I want too, you know that.’

  ‘Good! I’m not going to give you a lecture about being sensible with Richard. He is a nice lad – and if one day in the future, you settle down with him, I’ll be delighted. However, that shiny brass plate on the surgery door comes first…’ He smiled at her and left her to finish packing.

  Shirley peeped in the envelope and found ten crisp pound notes. She placed it in a little zipper compartment in her large case; the case locked and she would keep the key with her, because she had no idea where she would be staying as yet. Richard had told her about the holiday jobs he’d secured for them, but, although he’d told her they would have separate accommodation, she didn’t know where they would sleep.

  Closing her case, Shirley went downstairs to see if she could help her mother with supper. She would be off to catch the eight-fifteen train in the morning and Richard would meet her at the other end. Once again, she felt that thrill that was partly excitement and partly fear. It was the beginning of her future – a future she hoped would lead her to become a doctor and eventually Richard’s wife and partner in their own surgery.

  Maureen looked round as Shirley entered the room. She knew that Gordon had given his daughter some money for emergencies and she intended to give her another five pounds as spending money until she earned her first wage. Some of these temporary employers were unscrupulous and made the youngsters wait – and some of them might find themselves turned out after a week’s work without a penny and told they were not up to standard. Maureen had heard lots of hard-luck stories when she was nursing at the start of the war – many of the girls had come into nursing because it was steady work and the pay was regular. She knew from her own youth that working for a boss could often be difficult and wondered how Shirley would manage.

  Shirley had been a little spoiled and much loved, if the truth were told. Yes, she did umpteen jobs in the house for Maureen and had lent her dad a hand in the shop now and then, but that was very different from working for an employer who wanted value for money, as she would soon discover.

  Oh dear, there she went again, wanting to smother Shirley and protect her and you just couldn’t do that, Maureen reflected. Children grew up and went out into the world and you had to let go – she’d told Gordon that and was sure he hadn’t lectured his daughter too much, because she’d threatened him with no supper if he did. Yet here she was wanting to do the same!

  Maureen laughed at herself and Shirley smiled. ‘You look happy, Mum?’

  ‘I am, love – I’m going to miss you when you’re away, but I know it will be exciting for you, and I’m excited for you.’

  ‘Thank you!’ Shirley giggled. ‘Dad gave me some money to get home with if I get into trouble…’

  ‘You know your dad,’ Maureen said and pointed to an envelope and a little parcel on the table. ‘Those are for you – the envelope is from Peggy and Able and the parcel is from Sheila.’

  ‘Oh, Mum, they shouldn’t,’ Shirley exclaimed but felt pleased as she opened the parcel first and found a pretty little compact inside. ‘Look at what Aunty Sheila gave me, just what I wanted.’ She opened the envelope which contained a pretty card wishing her well and five one-pound notes. ‘Oh no, this is so much money!’

  Maureen nodded and smiled. ‘Peggy is so fond of you, love. She told me she was giving you money because it might come in useful. I’ll be giving you a bit extra too so you won’t be in trouble if they don’t pay you for a month.’

  ‘Richard says the pay is twenty-five shillings and tips for me a week and he gets thirty-five shillings a week,’ Shirley frowned. ‘He says we get paid every week…’

  ‘Well, so you should, but some employers do take advantage – but you’ll be fine anyway,’ Maureen said and looked at her with pride. ‘I know you won’t waste your money like some girls do when they first get paid.’

  ‘Richard says we need to save it for term time when we are working hard at our studies – and sometimes on the ward.’ Her excitement bubbled over as she hugged Maureen. ‘In September, I’ll be starting my training, Mum – I can’t wait to find out what it is really like to be on the wards and do things to help others.’

  ‘Yes,’ Maureen nodded. ‘Sometimes we forget – but that’s what it really means, Shirley. That is the reason why you decided you wanted to work hard at school and give up so much of your free time to study – so that you could help sick people to get well again,’

  ‘I’ve never forgotten,’ Shirley told her. ‘It was because we lost our darling Robin, Mum. I’ve always wished that I’d known what to do to make him better so perhaps he wouldn’t have died.’

  ‘You know that wasn’t your fault, Shirley?’ Maureen looked at her sharply. She knew that as a young girl Shirley had felt guilty because her stepbrother Robin had died, but it was never her fault. ‘Even the doctors couldn’t do anything and a lot of children died that year.’

  ‘I know, Mum – but doctors are always finding new ways to improve the treatment for these illnesses and that’s why I want to help. I might not discover anything miraculous, but perhaps I might be able to save lives sometimes, and every single life matters, doesn’t it, Mum? Whether it’s a lovely little boy like our Robin or someone like Gran who has lived a long time.’

  Maureen nodded, her heart filled with love and a little sadness too. Shirley had adored Robin, just as she had and they both held the memory of the little boy lost to a childhood disease dear in their hearts.

  ‘Do you want to use your dad’s telephone to thank Peggy and Sheila?’ she asked now.

  ‘Would you mind if I just popped round to say thank you and goodbye?’ Shirley asked. ‘I’ll visit Claire too, but I’ll help you get supper on first.’

  ‘No, you go now and supper will be ready when you get back. I’ve got a lovely shepherd’s pie in the oven and I’m just preparing the vegetables.’

  ‘Oh, one of my favourites,’ Shirley said and smiled. ‘Thanks, Mum. I shan’t be long.’

  ‘Tell Peggy I’ll be seeing her in the morning,’ Maureen said and smiled as Shirley went out.

  A little pang of regret hit her as she realised that she wouldn’t be seeing her daughter for seven weeks after this evening. Shirley would be with Richard in Clacton-on-Sea in Essex, a journey of no more than two hours. Maureen thought it was possibly the fact that it wasn’t too far away that had convinced Gordon to let her go. He’d taken his family to Clacton a few times while they were growing up and knew where the hotel was on the seafront. It was within walking distance of the pier and not far from the shops so quite central, which would suit Shirley.

  Shirley would return at the end of August, spend a week at home getting ready and then she was
off to her medical school and a whole new life… and that was when they would really start to miss her, when she was at the other end of the country in King’s College Durham. Established in 1834, it had merged with another university in 1937. Gordon would have preferred Shirley to study in London, but Richard was at Durham and so she’d chosen to apply there instead. Her excitement at being accepted immediately had mitigated his disappointment that she wouldn’t study in London.

  How quickly they grew up! Maureen’s eyes were moist as she recalled the little girl who had tasted strawberry blancmange for the first time in her home when her father brought her to tea. She’d refused it at first, then tried a taste of her father’s and after that she couldn’t get enough of it – and today Maureen had made it for afters with a tin of pears and some fresh cream.

  She’d made all Shirley’s favourites that evening, and there was a little lump in her throat as she realised that she would be the one missing her daughter a little too much.

  She would just have to pull her socks up, start a new cardigan for Maggie – Peggy’s granddaughter – and perhaps think about making something for Sheila’s baby, though she was wary of making clothes for an unborn baby, just in case…

  Shaking her head, Maureen popped the fresh new peas and carrots into the saucepan and turned on the gas underneath. She’d been lucky to find them, because the season was almost over for fresh peas; she thought they might be Spanish, which was a sign of the way things had changed since the war. During the war, they’d had hardly any imported vegetables.

  The tasty pie was nearly ready and these would only take a few minutes. Her mind hopped away from supper to the future, a future that wouldn’t include her daughter much for a while. Perhaps she would treat Gordon to a trip to that new James Stewart film tomorrow evening, because they would both be missing Shirley.

  8

  ‘Shirley got off all right then?’ Peggy asked when Maureen popped into the pub kitchen the next morning. It wasn’t really her morning for helping with the cooking, but she was clearly feeling at a loss and neither Sheila nor Peggy commented when she picked up a mixing bowl, looked at the list of cakes to bake and started to prepare the ingredients for a coffee sponge. ‘She was so excited last night…’

  ‘Her father took her to catch the train this morning. She’d already got her ticket, but he wanted to make sure she was safe on her way.’

  ‘I don’t blame him. He loves her – and she is a lovely girl.’

  ‘And overwhelmed by all the generous gifts she had,’ Maureen said. ‘You know Gran left her a few hundred pounds to pay for her medical school training – but her father gave her something and so did I – and you two spoiled her, as you always have.’

  ‘She is a caring girl,’ Sheila said. ‘I know you will really miss having her around.’

  ‘Yes, we shall – but that’s what happens when they grow up,’ Maureen said putting a brave face on it.

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Sheila sighed. ‘I dread the thought of Chris leaving home.’

  ‘But you’ll have another younger one,’ Peggy pointed out. ‘There will be over six years between them.’

  ‘Yes,’ Sheila smiled and patted her stomach. ‘I’ve seen some beautiful clothes for little girls…’ Sheila looked wistful. She was getting closer to the birth of her child, but it was obvious that she was beginning to feel the effects of the last stages of pregnancy, though, as Peggy had told her, far less than they had all worried she might.

  ‘Girls are certainly lovely to dress up,’ Peggy agreed. ‘Janet used to follow me about and try to copy what I did – but Fay isn’t interested in cooking and she certainly doesn’t like keeping her room tidy. Freddie is much better at that.’

  ‘How is Fay getting on with her skating?’ Maureen asked.

  ‘That is a sore point at the moment. Apparently, she upset her teacher, because she won’t listen to her advice and she was made to sit at the side of the rink for half an hour and watch. Sara told her that if she wants to skate well, she must do as she is told, not as she wants.’ Peggy grimaced. ‘So, we had tantrums for a while after she came home. She was sullen with me and Able got cross with her and tapped her on the leg, so then there were floods of tears and she ran to her room and slammed the door.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Sheila said, frowning. ‘I’m lucky, Chris is always so easy-going.’

  ‘That is because he takes after you,’ Maureen said. ‘Pip was a bit like Fay when he was younger – wasn’t he, Peggy?’

  ‘He was an independent boy, but never as flighty as young madam,’ Peggy said and laughed.

  Her laughter died as Gillian suddenly appeared and looked in through the open top of the kitchen door, which was like a stable door and let in air to help cool the kitchen.

  ‘Gillian—’ Peggy faltered, startled by her sudden arrival, because she’d claimed she was too frightened to leave the boarding house. Yet here she was. An icy chill touched her nape. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Able says you’re needed; he insisted I came,’ the girl said, biting her lip. ‘It’s Fay. She was at the top of the stairs laughing and playing with Freddie and – he pushed her down the stairs.’

  ‘Freddie wouldn’t do that,’ Peggy said, confident in her youngest son’s nature. ‘I’ll come straight away.’ She looked apologetically at Maureen. ‘I was about to make some madeleines – can you take over?’

  ‘Yes, of course I can, Peggy,’ her friend said, looking at her anxiously. ‘I’m sure she is all right, don’t worry.’

  Peggy walked quickly from the kitchen. Gillian was still standing there looking about her with interest, but Peggy summoned her and she turned and followed her two doors down the lane to the back of the boarding house.

  Freddie was in the kitchen, his face white with anxiety. He shot a puzzled looked at Gillian and then at his mother.

  ‘I didn’t push Fay, Mum, honestly. She says I did, but I promise you I didn’t do it.’

  ‘Of course, you didn’t, love,’ Peggy told him with a loving smile. Had it been the other way round, she might have believed it of Fay, but she knew Freddie’s nature was too loving and giving to do such a mean thing. ‘No doubt she just fell.’

  ‘She is in a lot of pain with her ankle,’ Freddie said, biting his lip. ‘If it’s broken, she might never be able to skate again…’

  ‘We’ll face that if it comes to it,’ Peggy said and smiled at him. ‘Whatever happens, I’ll never believe that you pushed your sister, so don’t think I’m blaming you, Freddie, because I’m not.’

  Freddie sent an accusing look at Gillian but didn’t say another word. Peggy felt that prickling sensation at the back of her neck again. She glanced at the girl she’d taken in from the streets, but her expression was bland and she could take nothing from it.

  ‘Why don’t you come up with me, Freddie?’ Peggy invited as she went into the hall and up the stairs to her daughter’s room. She could hear Fay sobbing as she approached and her husband’s gentle tones soothing her.

  ‘I know it hurts, my love,’ Able was telling his daughter. ‘The cold compress will help a little and in time it will stop hurting.’

  Peggy entered the bedroom and saw Fay leaning up against her pillows, her face wet with tears. She looked up and saw Peggy and her face screwed up.

  ‘Freddie pushed me,’ she complained in a wailing tone and then stopped as Peggy gave her the look. Her bottom lip faltered and she hung her head, mumbling the truth, ‘We were playing and my ankle gave way and I fell.’ Big tears appeared in her eyes. ‘It hurts so much… and Freddie was trying to stop me hitting him…’

  ‘That sounds more like it,’ Peggy nodded. ‘Freddie is very upset, Fay. You know he thinks the world of you and would never hurt you.’

  ‘I think she may have hurt her ankle at the rink,’ Able said, looking up. ‘It is too swollen and painful for it just to be a sprain. I think I’m going to call the doctor out…’

  ‘Yes, please do,’ Peggy said and took
his place on the bed beside Fay. Freddie was standing in the doorway looking at them, a mixture of relief and anxiety in his eyes as his mother reapplied the cold compress Able had been pressing against Fay’s ankle. It did look very swollen and red, and although that could have been from the fall, she thought, as Able did, that it was rather from a previous fall. ‘Did you fall at the rink?’ Peggy asked and Fay nodded but looked so miserable that she directed her gaze at Freddie. ‘Did you see it, love? Was it a bad fall?’

  ‘Yes,’ Freddie admitted reluctantly. ‘Fay was trying a triple salchow and she fell awkwardly on her ankle. I went and helped her up, but she got cross and told me to go away – said it was all right. She skated a bit more, then came off the rink and said she’d had enough.’

  ‘Pig!’ Fay accused and stuck her tongue out at her brother.

  Peggy would normally have given her a reprimand for that, but she was already suffering so she let it go. Children quarrelled, especially twins, though at other times they stuck together and protected each other. ‘Well, Sara did warn you not to be too ambitious in your attempts at the jumps you see more advanced skaters perform, Fay. I know how much you love your skating and I’m not going to scold you – I just hope you haven’t done the kind of damage that will prevent you becoming what you want to be.’

  ‘Do you think it might, Mum?’ Fay asked in a scared voice and all at once she was the vulnerable little girl Peggy had once had to leave in hospital with an ear infection. Fay had recovered much of her hearing, but it still wasn’t perfect in the ear she’d damaged by hiding one of Maggie’s beads in it. She was such a contradictory little thing, but so loveable, despite the tantrums and the drama.

  ‘I pray it won’t, my love,’ Peggy said and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Your dad is getting the doctor to look at it and we’ll soon know – but just say you’re sorry to Freddie, because he cares about you too.’