The women of mulberry la.., p.1
The Women of Mulberry Lane, page 1
THE WOMEN OF MULBERRY LANE
The Mulberry Lane Series
Girls of Mulberry Lane
Wedding at Mulberry Lane
Mulberry Lane Babies
New Arrivals at Mulberry Lane
The Women of Mulberry Lane
The Workshop Girls Series
Lizzie’s Secret
Lizzie’s War
Lizzie’s Daughters
Also by Rosie Clarke
Jessie’s Promise
Christmas is for Children
The Runaway Wife
The Women of Mulberry Lane
Rosie Clarke
AN IMPRINT OF HEAD OF ZEUS
www.ariafiction.com
First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd
Copyright © Rosie Clarke, 2019
The moral right of Rosie Clarke to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781789542233
Aria
c/o Head of Zeus
First Floor East
5–8 Hardwick Street
London EC1R 4RG
www.ariafiction.com
Contents
Also by Rosie Clarke
Welcome Page
Copyright Page
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
About Rosie Clarke
Become an Aria Addict
1
Peggy Ashley was bending down to pop a tray of jam tarts into the oven when the loud explosion made her jump and drop the tray on the floor with a clatter. She rushed to the back door of her kitchen and looked out, because the awful noise of the terrible V2 rockets had sounded so close that she thought it must be in the next street, but although she could see smoke rising in the distance, it was nowhere near as close as it had sounded.
The first V2 explosions in London had been put down to a gas main bursting and the government had kept the truth from the people until November 1944 when a terrible disaster at Woolworths in New Cross, south-east London, had revealed that it was Germany’s evil new weapon causing the mysterious explosions. One hundred and sixty people were killed in that raid and over a hundred seriously injured.
‘That was lucky, Peggy.’
Peggy turned back to the kitchen. Nellie had picked up the tray of tarts. Only one pastry case had fallen on to the floor and luckily the tray had landed face up. Nellie put the tray in the range oven and disposed of the one that had fallen out.
‘It could’ve been much worse…’
Peggy felt a surge of relief and her laugh was almost hysterical. Nellie was talking about the tarts, but knowing that anyone caught in that bomb blast would have died, she was torn between mirth and tears. Nellie saw her expression and put a big work-worn hand on her arm.
‘Don’t let it get you down, love,’ her helper and oldest friend said sympathetically. Nellie’s hair was completely grey now and her face was beginning to show signs of her age. ‘It ain’t ’alf as bad as the bloody Blitz…’
‘No, but at least we knew they were coming then,’ Peggy reminded her. During the Blitz the noise from the invading planes had given them plenty of warning and the siren had everyone running for cover. Peggy had time then to take neighbours and friends down to the pub cellar, where they’d been safe, and everyone had enjoyed the camaraderie, but now there was no warning. With these new weapons, death could come in an instant, and when you heard the noise, you knew someone had copped it. She wiped her face on the sleeve of her jumper. ‘Besides, it isn’t just those wretched bombs…’ It had been just one thing on top of another, these past years: too many deaths and too many friends lost.
‘I know…’ Nellie gave her a sympathetic look. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, Peggy. You need to sit down for a bit…’
Peggy was about to protest that she had too much to do, but realised she was shaking and decided to do as she was told for once. Peggy’s daughter Janet had taken her own daughter Maggie to nursery school earlier that morning and then collected Peggy’s twins, taking them out for a walk to give her some time to push ahead with her work, and to be honest she’d done most of it.
‘Yes, I could do with a cuppa,’ she said and smiled at Nellie. ‘What would I ever do without you?’
‘Good job you don’t ’ave to,’ Nellie said. ‘My daughter is all right ’cos she has her husband home for the moment and he dotes on their little girl. Mind you, anyone would; she’s a beauty with them big blue eyes and them blonde curls. Our Pearl will be a heartbreaker when she’s grown, make no mistake.’
Peggy laughed. Children could always make you smile, even though they tired you out. It was almost Christmas 1944 and Peggy’s twins were into everything these days. Now more than three years old and full of energy, Freddie was the strongest, running ahead of his twin sister, Fay, who screamed her frustration when he snatched up the toy or the bun she was after. Peggy adored them. They were Able’s children and she often wondered what he would think of them if he walked in and saw the pair of them squabbling.
It was more than six months since she’d discovered the letter her husband Laurie had so spitefully hidden; it was from Able’s friend, telling her he’d been badly wounded and had been in a foreign hospital for a long time before being flown back to an American military base. For a long time she’d feared that Able was dead but then someone had put a card from Able through her letter box, and though Peggy had looked into the street immediately, she hadn’t been able to see anyone. Whoever it was hadn’t waited around. However, it had alerted Peggy to the idea that there might have been earlier letters and after the postman told her that he’d brought an airmail letter for her some weeks prior to her finding the card, Peggy searched Laurie’s things. Discovering a letter addressed to her in her husband’s suitcase, Peggy had been so angry that if he hadn’t been ill in hospital after an act of extreme bravery saving her friend’s life, she would have walked out right then. Instead, Peggy had written several letters hoping that one would reach the man she loved, but she did not know whether he was at home in America or serving his country elsewhere. Thus far she’d heard nothing in reply – but if Able had got one of her letters he would now know that the twins were his. If only he would telephone or visit her so that she could tell him all the things he needed to know…
Sighing, Peggy sipped the tea Nellie had poured for her. Life was so complicated. Even if Able walked in that door right now, she could hardly just take the twins and go off with him. Her estranged husband Laurie was now in an isolation hospital somewhere down near the east coast; Peggy hadn’t been given the exact location and she wasn’t allowed to communicate with him for months in case her letters distressed him. Not that she wanted to very much because she was hurt and angry at the way he’d behaved. Her feelings for the husband she’d once loved were mixed. Laurie had been injured saving Maureen Hart from a knife attack, a brave and selfless act, but he’d let Peggy down again and again, his infidelity eventually leading to her own with the young American serviceman when she’d fallen in love with Able Ronoscki. Even now, after what Laurie had done, she still felt an obligation to keep the pub running, not out of loyalty to him but because it was her home and, for the time being, Janet’s and the children’s, but Peggy could have had her own business. The indecision and unease had been gnawing at her for months now and was the reason she’d come so close to tears.
‘Mr Ashley will be infectious and undergoing difficult treatment,’ the hospital doctor had told her and Janet when they went in to talk to him at the London before Laurie was taken away by ambulance. ‘And he will be vulnerable to outside infection himself. We do not allow relatives to visit or to write letters, because it upsets the patients – and at this particular time that part of the coast is off limits to the general public…’
Peggy had understood what he meant. Since D-Day, when the Allies had begun the counterattack and stormed ashore in Normandy, most people had been kept away from the coasts unless they had special permits. The Allied attack had driven the Germans out of Normandy and later from Paris, with the Free French leading the triumphant march into the French capital. The Germans were beginning to run short of supplies and they were now on the defensive in many areas but still fighting back and still capable of surprising the Allies, as when they broke out from the Ardennes.
Here in Britain and in various European countries, the V2 rockets wer
‘As Ryan says, we could be killed on a train fleeing to the country,’ Janet had told her mother, because many casualties had happened that way.
Peggy felt she had no choice but to stay where she was in the pub. It was her living and Laurie’s and if she took the twins down to the comparative safety of the country the business would fold. She might have let them go with Janet, though she wasn’t sure that would work, because her daughter would hardly have coped. Janet’s own daughter, Maggie, almost two years older than the twins was difficult enough without the terrible two, as Peggy affectionately called her youngest.
No, she would stay here in London and take her chance, just as she had in the Blitz, which had actually been worse, with many more bombs falling on London. It was just that the explosions were so sudden and, because of that, so terrifying that many women had evacuated their children once more.
‘Hi, Mum,’ Janet said, breezing in at that moment. ‘We’ve had a lovely time, haven’t we, you terrible two!’
Fay ran to her mother and pulled at her skirts, demanding a biscuit, but Freddie looked at his aunt and grinned. He had all his teeth and his little smile was enchanting.
‘Auntie Mo… Mo… sweeties…’ he said and Janet laughed.
‘What he’s trying to say is that Maureen gave them a few jelly sweets each. She wouldn’t take my coupons or my money – just stuck the scoop in the jar and gave them to these wicked pair – who, I might say, have eaten the lot and deserve to be sick!’
‘Maureen wasn’t servin’ in the shop?’ Peggy exclaimed in surprise. ‘She’s hardly got over the birth of little Gordon. Honestly, she does too much. If she isn’t careful she will make herself ill… Her husband must be a huge strain on her because, although she doesn’t say much, I know he’s in terrible pain. He’s been goin’ back to hospital for more treatment on his leg these past few weeks.’ Maureen had hoped Gordon would progress once he came home back in late June, but his leg was still very sore after the terrible wound he’d received whilst fighting the enemy and, since he refused to use a wheelchair, he couldn’t get about much.
‘Says the woman who gave birth to twins in her forties and started back to work within weeks…’ Janet taunted, laughing at her mother’s grimace.
Janet was looking particularly beautiful, Peggy thought. She’d recently had her hair cut and it looked lighter and full of wave. The part-time work she’d done for Maureen, both in the grocery shop and the wool shop, had given her some extra money to spend on herself. She’d bought herself a few smart things for when Ryan took her out, and that morning she was wearing a grey tweed skirt and a pink twinset with the pearls Ryan had given her on her birthday.
‘You look happy, darling?’ Peggy said and smiled lovingly at her. Janet was beginning to get over the trauma of losing her husband Mike at last. She had recently taken off her wedding ring and put it in the drawer upstairs and she’d given her promise to wed Ryan in the spring. He was courting her in a way that Janet’s father would approve – buying her flowers, bringing chocolates for Peggy and taking Janet to dances and to romantic dinners. There had been very little time for that when Mike and Janet fell in love for the war had happened and he’d been taken from her too soon.
‘Happy?’ Janet’s smile faded. ‘I think I shall be,’ she said seriously. ‘I do care for Ryan and I enjoy being spoiled – but…’ She shook her head and sighed. ‘Mike has gone and I have to move on. Besides, Maggie dotes on Ryan. I think she saw more of him when she was small than she did of her father and he’s so good with her. It isn’t just the presents he buys her, he truly loves her, Mum – and she does what he tells her. She’s been better with the twins lately and that’s because Ryan told her that she was the eldest and had to set them a good example.’
Peggy nodded. Maggie was quick-tempered and could be selfish and spiteful, but she could also be a charmer and she did adore Ryan, who she called Daddy. Freddie got on pretty well with her, but then, Freddie got on with everyone. It was Fay who was the troublemaker. She was jealous and if she saw Freddie share something with Maggie she grabbed at it and hit her twin. Peggy had seen her look at the older girl as if she hated her and at those times she was glad that Janet would be married in March and living in the house Ryan had bought for them in Hampstead. It would stop the constant fights between the three of them. She would still see her daughter and grandchild, but they wouldn’t be living together and might get on better because of it.
Maureen’s eldest boy, Robin, was just a few months younger and he and Freddie played together well, though Maureen seldom had time to bring him to visit these days. She had Mabel Tandy’s wool shop back open and running, and she’d started a dress rail for good-condition second-hand clothes. Trade had been slow at first, because people were affected by Mabel’s murder, but it soon picked up as they discovered the changes Maureen had made. Women took their clean castoffs to her and she put them on the rail, taking four shillings in the pound as commission; other women could buy them at much less than the price of new in the shops, and because all kinds of women had begun to bring in their unwanted clothes there were some bargains to be had.
Peggy had occasionally bought from the nearly new stall on the market, especially since good new clothes were so hard to find. She’d ventured into Maureen’s shop two weeks after it was opened and found a lovely grey wool suit that was just her size.
‘It hardly looks worn,’ she’d said in surprise as Vera Brooks served her.
‘The lady who brought it in said she’d had it new when she got married just before the war but when she had her baby she couldn’t get into it. I offered her thirty shillings for it, because it must have cost at least ten pounds new. Maureen said to sell it for two pounds…’
‘It’s a bargain,’ Peggy had said, pleased with how it looked. I’ve got a pretty pink jumper that will go under it. I like smart clothes when I work in the bar, but I haven’t found anything like this for ages.’
‘They’ve taken off some of the restriction on clothing,’ Vera had said as she folded the suit carefully. ‘I think more variety will be in the shops soon – but fine wool like this would be very expensive, if you could find it.’
Peggy had agreed with her. She’d looked to see if there was anything Janet might like, but the suit was the best thing there. Paying for her suit, she then bought some knitting wool for the twins. Fay’s cardigan would be pink and white, but Freddie was into so much mischief that she had plumped for a pale grey for his pullover.
*
Peggy met Maureen as she was leaving the corner shop a few days later and her friend had the new baby in the pram. Peggy cooed over the lovely little boy, saying that he was going to be just like his father.
‘Have you been in to the clothes shop yet? Maureen asked and Peggy nodded.
‘Yes, I bought something the other day. You’ve got some nice things in, Maureen.’
‘Vera is trying to take only good things, because we don’t want rubbish. Some women are annoyed when we refuse their things, but Vera advises them to try the market.’
‘How is it going? Are you selling much?’
‘We’ve had a reasonable turnover. It just depends what people bring in. Some women have lovely things they just don’t want and they go as soon as they’re put out, but other things hang around for ages. If I bought them I might be out of pocket, but by taking commission and paying when they sell I can’t lose.’
‘What a good idea,’ Peggy exclaimed and nodded. ‘Oh, before I forget, I’d love you and Gordon to come to the Christmas Eve party – do you think he will feel up to it?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Maureen said and Peggy thought she looked anxious. ‘Some days he seems to be a lot better – and others he slides right back. The infection from the wound has healed, but it is taking time to get his leg working properly. He refuses to use the wheelchair the hospital loaned us and that means he stands too much and his leg just gave way the other day and he went down on his backside at the foot of the stairs. A few bruises, but it made him angry…’
