Rosie Clarke

A Reunion at Mulberry Lane


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he left school and come to help me. Wants his own barrow this one does and as soon as ’e can push it, I’ll set ’im up.’

      ‘Lucky Nobby,’ Rose said and smiled at the man. He seemed all right and was clearly a generous father. ‘My husband started off doing odd jobs even younger than your son and now he has his own business.’

      ‘Yeah, I thought I knew yer,’ the man said and rubbed his grubby hand on his trousers before offering it to her. Rose shook his hand. ‘You’re Tom Barton’s missus. He’s done some jobs fer me. I’m Jim Broad and I’ve got two lads. My youngest is just ten years, but he’s more like his Ma. Robbie wants ter be an engine driver on the trains. He’s the brains of the family now that my Lisa’s gorn…’

      ‘Your wife died?’ Rose said, feeling a wave of sympathy.

      ‘Nah, cleared orf and left me when I got back after the war.’ Jim made a wry face. ‘She’d found herself a Yank she liked and he come back for her in nineteen forty-six, so she told me she was orf and left me with two boys ter bring up. It was a bit of luck fer me that me ma ’elped out, otherwise we’d have been up the creek – but yer’ve got a good gran, ain’t yer, Nobby?’ His son’s grin told its own story.

      ‘That was rotten luck,’ Rose said. ‘I must get off. I have a lot of shopping to do this morning…’

      ‘Yeah, it’s nearly Christmas,’ Jim said and grinned. ‘Best time of the year for us – enjoy those walnuts, Rose Barton.’ Something in his eyes made her flush and look away.

      ‘We shall, thank you,’ Rose said and hurried away. She felt a bit hot under the collar, because the look in Jim Broad’s eyes was a little familiar. He’d looked her up and down and liked what he saw and it had sent little warning tingles down Rose’s spine. She didn’t like men being too forward; it always made her uneasy.

      ‘Don’t be stupid, Rose Barton…’ She scolded herself as she reached the market and began to look around for the things she needed. The man was just being friendly that was all – and she liked his son. He had a cheeky smile and was keen to do well, which reminded her of Tom. Her husband was a worker and she thought perhaps Nobby would be too, given the chance. His father was just an East End trader and many of them were a bit on the cheeky side if you didn’t watch them, but Rose didn’t think she’d said or done anything to encourage him, so there was no reason for the icy tingle at her nape. Anyway, she was unlikely to see the man again. He probably didn’t have a licence to be where he was; a lot of men set up stalls illegally at Christmas just for the extra trade. Something that upset the regular traders in the market, because they thought the intruders pinched their customers, which was true, of course.

      Rose shook her head. She had Christmas shopping to buy and, so far, she hadn’t bought Tom a gift. Rose bought him smart shirts and ties for his birthday and Christmas, but this year she’d saved hard, because she wanted to buy him a surprise gift. Tom liked to watch his children play in the street and, when he had time, would join in a game of football with the other kids; quite a few of the men did if they were around. He’d remarked once or twice that it would be nice to have photographs of the children playing. All they had were a couple of studio pictures that looked too poised. So Rose was going to buy Tom a cine camera and a couple of rolls of film this year, something she was sure he would enjoy far more than another new shirt.

      Tom had bought them a television earlier that year. He’d read that the BBC was going to produce many more films in future and would be taking over a film studio to make its programmes. Tom enjoyed a good film and took Rose to the cinema once a week if they could find a babysitter for the children.

      ‘Once the BBC get cracking, we’ll have something interesting to watch on the telly most nights,’ he’d told her excitedly when a friend of his had installed it for them, but so far Rose couldn’t see where the small black and white screen with flickering pictures came anywhere near the lovely technicolour of the cinema. However, Tom was very into film and photographs and she thought he would love a camera that took moving pictures of the kids. A home movie camera was something that folk in the lanes would never have been able to aspire to before the war, but since then most of them had prospered a little. Tom was making decent money and was generous with his housekeeping. Rose kept all the money she earned and she’d been saving hard for Tom’s present all year.

      She’d seen the one she wanted three weeks previously and reserved it and that morning she was going to pay for it, having withdrawn the money from her Post Office account. She felt excited as the man wrapped the box in brown paper and she tucked it under the children’s bits and pieces in her large shopping bag. It was a surprise for under the Christmas tree and it gave Rose a warm feeling inside that she’d done something nice for Tom.

      The barrow she’d bought her nuts from on the way home had gone when she passed the place it had pitched. She thought they’d probably sold out for the day and gone to fetch the third member of the family from school. It was probably a good thing, she thought, saving her from more intimate glances from the owner, and decided she would take a different route to the market the following week.

      Tom entered the house to the smell of a delicious casserole. Rose was a much better cook now than she’d been when they had first married. Alice had taught her some of it and Sheila and Maureen had given her recipes too and time had done the rest. He was hungry and looked forward to a good hearty meal at the end of the day.

      ‘You’re home then.’ Rose came out of the kitchen, wearing a pretty blue apron covered with forget-me-nots over her dress. ‘It’s almost ready to serve, Tom. I’m just cooking some vegetables and I didn’t want them on too soon.’

      ‘Are the children in bed?’ Tom asked.

      ‘Yes, Jenny wanted to read and she promised Jackie she would play with him for a while so they both went up without an argument this evening.’

      ‘Good, that means we have time to ourselves…’ Tom put his arms about her and kissed her. ‘I may smell of sweat, so perhaps I should go and wash before we eat…’

      ‘You smell good,’ Rose told him. ‘The way a man should – I like it, Tom.’

      ‘Good.’ His kiss was passionate and possessive. ‘I love you so much, Rose.’ He hesitated then, ‘One of my customers called into the yard to see me half an hour ago. He has a job for me, repairing some windows and painting the outside of his house. Apparently, you bought some nuts from his son this morning?’

      ‘I bought some lovely walnuts,’ Rose agreed.

      Tom saw the flush in her cheeks and frowned. He hadn’t much liked the way Jim Broad had brought her name into what should have been business. Tom was aware that Rose was a beautiful, sensual woman. He’d known that from the beginning, when she’d still thought of him as a boy. It was inevitable that other men would see it too and want her, but Rose was his! A mild-tempered man, Tom had wanted to punch the bugger in the face.

      He bit back words of reproach that he knew Rose did not deserve. She couldn’t help it if other men wanted her and she’d never given him cause to think she might stray. He suspected that she remembered Jimmy, the brave soldier who had given his life to destroy German V2 weapons destined to maim and kill thousands of British people. However, she never flinched from him in bed and their loving was satisfying and good. Tom was too level-headed to force a quarrel on the woman he adored just because he’d seen lust in another man’s eyes. He’d rather put his fist in the so-and-so’s mouth!

      Forcing his jealousy to the backwaters of his mind, Tom smiled. ‘Did you get everything you wanted for the kids?’

      ‘Yes, lots of little bits and pieces, like we said,’ Rose replied and looked pleased. ‘I’ve done my shopping now, apart from the turkey and the trimmings.’

      ‘I ordered the turkey and that will be delivered,’ Tom told her. He had a good customer with contacts in the country and they delivered a lovely farm fresh turkey to the door every year.