Rosie Clarke

A Reunion at Mulberry Lane


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guessed as much,’ Gordon said, smiling indulgently at her. ‘You sounded so animated and full of it on the phone. I’m glad Peggy is coming to stay. It will make Christmas even more fun for you.’

      ‘Mum loves Christmas anyway,’ Shirley said and closed her book. ‘How soon can we get the tree and put the paper chains up, Dad?’

      ‘Not until a week before the day,’ Gordon said. ‘It will drop its spines all over if we have it too soon – besides, Christmas shouldn’t go on forever. When I was a lad, my grandfather refused to decorate until Christmas Eve. He said it was a celebration of Christ’s birth and nothing more. I think he only agreed to some greenery because my grandmother would have hit him with her rolling pin if he hadn’t…’

      Shirley shook her head at him. ‘That’s so old-fashioned, Dad,’ she chided. ‘Some of my friends are already starting to put them up and the junior classes are making decorations at school. They will decorate the hall next week. We’ve all got to take a little present in that the school can give to a children’s home.’

      ‘I’ll find you some bits and pieces,’ Maureen said. ‘Are second-hand toys and good clothes acceptable?’

      ‘Yes. My teacher says there are so many children who have nothing that we should all find something to give away at Christmas, as well as sending money to the poor of other countries. We’re going to wrap our gifts up in pretty tissue or brown paper decorated with gold stars we’ve cut out – and any decorations we make will come down on the last school day and go to the children’s home. That’s why we have our parties and celebrations early.’

      ‘That’s a school, so it’s understandable,’ her father said. ‘It’s more fun if we leave it a bit later, Shirley. I like all the last-minute rush of getting presents and wrapping them – but I’ll give you five shillings for the school’s Christmas fund.’

      ‘Thanks, Dad!’ Shirley hugged her father.

      ‘That doesn’t mean you can have your tree early or presents…’

      ‘Mum started her shopping weeks ago,’ Shirley said and laughed as Maureen shot her a suspicious look. ‘No, I haven’t been peeking, Mum, but I know when you start hiding things under the tea towel when I come in and acting furtively.’

      ‘I don’t!’

      ‘You do,’ Gordon and Shirley chorused together with a laugh. ‘You get that secretive look in your eyes…’ Gordon added with a wink at his daughter. ‘And you made the Christmas puddings weeks ago.’

      ‘That’s different; they’re better if they mature a little – and as for the presents, I hide them because I like surprises,’ Maureen said. ‘Christmas presents should be a surprise, unless it has to fit and then sometimes you can’t keep it a secret.’

      ‘That’s a hint,’ Gordon said. ‘We haven’t got something to wear this year, Shirley.’

      Father and daughter laughed as Maureen put on her ‘wait and see’ face. ‘You two do not deserve any presents,’ she claimed with mock severity. ‘I’m going up to check on little Gordy, because he had a bit of a cough earlier – so you can whisper and laugh about me to your hearts’ content.’ The usual winter coughs and colds had been circulating in the lanes, but apart from a slight cough her family were well, thank goodness!

      ‘You are my heart’s content,’ Gordon said and caught her about the waist, giving her a little squeeze as she passed.

      ‘I shall deal with you later,’ she threatened and departed to make sure her beloved son was sleeping peacefully. Maureen knew she did not need to check on him but having lost one son to a childhood illness she was even more careful of her other children. Whooping cough, measles, influenza, any of them could kill if they were severe enough.

      Maureen looked down at her sleeping child with love and then passed on to little Matty. Both were peaceful, their faces slightly flushed with sleep but not in the least hot to the touch. She smiled and turned to return to her kitchen, where a small pile of ironing awaited her if she felt like tackling it.

      Her thoughts went to Peggy and the news about Janet. It seemed that things weren’t quite right there again. Poor Janet had had a rough time of it, one way and another. She’d lost her home in the war when a German bomber crashed into it but, far worse, she’d lost her first husband. After she remarried, they’d all thought she was happy, but the loss of her baby son soon after his birth had changed things. Since then, she’d suffered miscarriages and that pulled you down, as Maureen knew only too well.

      Gordon had decided that, after Matty was born, three children was enough. ‘I want you well and strong,’ he’d told his wife. ‘We’ve got a perfect family. From now on, I’ll take charge.’ He had and, though it wasn’t always satisfactory, they’d managed and Maureen hadn’t quickened again. She sometimes thought she wouldn’t, even if her husband wasn’t so meticulous in looking after her. There were other methods of contraception, of course, and Maureen had considered being fitted with a cap. She thought that might be better for both of them but hadn’t got around to talking to her doctor about it yet, though maybe she would next time she went to the surgery.

      Shirley was writing a letter and looking rather serious when Maureen got back to the kitchen. She looked up and frowned as she saw her reach for the ironing basket.

      ‘Can I do that for you, Mum?’

      ‘No, it’s all right, love. You get on with your letter.’ Maureen didn’t need to ask if she was writing to Richard. Shirley only ever wrote to one person – unless it was something to do with her hopes for medical school. She had written two letters asking medical schools about their requirements and received nice letters in return. It wasn’t so long ago that the authorities had thought women should be nurses and leave the real medicine to men, but now more and more of them were realising that women could play a big role in the hospital as well as the practice. Many women were embarrassed to talk to male doctors about personal problems and were turning to the female doctor whenever possible. It was because Maureen had heard rumours of a clinic with a female doctor that she was considering having a cap fitted to take the responsibility from Gordon.

      She glanced at her husband quietly reading his paper at the table and smiled. How lucky she was to be married to such a good, gentle man.

      ‘Richard isn’t coming home for long this Christmas,’ Shirley said with a sigh. ‘He has to work most of the time…’

      ‘I think that is quite usual for medical students,’ Maureen responded sympathetically. She knew how much her daughter looked forward to Richard’s visits. It was a pity that they weren’t a little closer in age. It hadn’t mattered that there was nearly four years difference when he’d walked her home from school. He was like her big brother, protecting her, but now he was way ahead at medical school, leaving Shirley languishing at home wishing she could be there with him.

      ‘I think I’ll go up and read in bed,’ Shirley said after a moment or so. ‘I’ll read my library book, Mum. It’s a Greek legend and I’m enjoying it…’

      ‘I don’t mind what you do as long as you’re all right,’ Maureen said and kissed her. ‘Shall I bring you some cocoa up when I make it in an hour?’

      ‘Yes please. I shan’t be asleep, but my reading lamp is better than the light here.’

      ‘I know – that’s why your dad bought it for you.’ It had a head that could be angled to put the light where it was needed and was very modern and stylish – a little too modern for Maureen’s taste, Gordon liked all the new things that were coming in these days and often suggested buying labour-saving devices for Maureen, though she wasn’t as keen.

      Maureen smiled and kissed her again as she passed, then took the flatiron that had been warming on the range and held it close to her face so that she could gauge the heat. She had two that Gran had given her years before so that one heated while the other was being used and then, once it had cooled too much, she exchanged it