Rosie Clarke

A Reunion at Mulberry Lane


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laughter as she was carried up to her bedroom and tossed high in the air before being caught safely in his strong arms.

      ‘She’ll be sick,’ Rose warned, but Tom ignored the warning. Rose always thought he was too playful with his children, but they loved to be tossed and caught and he would never let them fall; never do anything that would harm them, because he adored them both, equally. His little prince and princess! Tom was determined that if hard work could do it, he would build them a kingdom – or at least make enough money so that his family would have all the things that he wanted to give them. All the things he and his brother had never had…

      For a moment he recalled his younger brother’s tragic death on a bomb site in the early days of the war and a shadow passed across his heart, but it soon was forgotten as Jenny planted a sticky kiss on his cheek.

      Jenny allowed her mother to undress her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Tom wasn’t sure she would have done it if he hadn’t directed it, but she obeyed willingly enough.

      When he’d told her one of her favourite fairy stories about a beautiful princess in a tower being rescued by a prince, she slipped into a peaceful sleep and Tom left her lying there, looking every bit the perfect angel – which he knew she often wasn’t. Jenny played her mother up and Rose got cross and then Jenny started crying and screaming. He paused to look at her for a moment before going back downstairs.

      Rose was making a pot of tea when he reached the kitchen. She looked a bit drained and he wondered if Jackie had been worse, but when he asked, she smiled and looked happier.

      ‘No, he’s much better, sleeping like a log,’ she said. ‘The medicine they gave me has worked wonders. That’s the beauty of the Health Service – a few years back we’d probably have gone to the chemist and bought the wrong thing. We’re so lucky it’s all free now.’

      ‘I’d pay for a doctor anyway,’ Tom told her.

      Rose nodded, but her lovely smile was missing. ‘Yes, that is one good thing this Government has done, but I wish they would end sugar rationing.’

      ‘You and millions of others,’ Tom quipped, laughing. ‘I know it gets tedious, but we’re all much better off than we were in the war.’ He smiled at the memory of his brief but heroic time in the war.

      ‘I know.’ Rose laughed suddenly. ‘Take no notice of me, Tom. I think I must be tired. I’ve been on the go with Jackie and anxious…’

      ‘I know,’ Tom murmured, moving towards her and taking her into his arms. He kissed her hair, inhaling the wonderful scent of her. His love for Rose just seemed to get stronger. ‘I wish I could wave a magic wand and give you all the things you deserve, Rose. One day we’ll have a lovely new house in the suburbs and go on long holidays to the sea. We’ll have all of it, you’ll see…’

      ‘Oh, Tom,’ Rose cried and hugged him. ‘I do love you – and it’s not because of the house or holidays at the sea. You give me so much already. I love you because you’re kind and generous.’

      Tom held her closer, his lips moving against her neck. His love had never wavered, but he sometimes wondered if he’d pushed Rose into marriage. She wasn’t always happy, he knew. Sometimes he thought it was just tiredness. She helped him with his accounts, worked a few hours for Sheila in the tea shop and the previous week she’d done a two-hour stint in the bar one evening and that was on top of caring for their children. He would have forbidden her to work, except that he knew she enjoyed it. It was a way for her to meet friends and earn some pocket money and Tom wasn’t selfish enough to insist she stayed home and looked after him and the children the whole time.

      ‘If you’re tired, Rose, you don’t need to work so often…’ he suggested mildly.

      ‘I know. I’ve told Sheila I shan’t be in for a couple of days, but I love my work, Tom. I talk to people I know and if I stayed home all day, I should get bored.’

      ‘Yes, I understand. Besides, Alice likes the couple of shillings you give her for babysitting and I know she can do with it.’

      Their friend and neighbour had had to give up taking in lodgers because it had got too much for her. She was well over seventy now and showing her age. Tom was very fond of Alice, who had given him a bed in her home when he’d needed it and he worried that she was struggling to manage. He would have given her money, but he knew she would refuse, so he took her some fish and chips once a week and bought her a bit of shopping from Maureen’s now and then. She always wanted to pay him, but he pretended to be in a hurry and somehow it was forgotten. If Peggy had been here, she would have taken food over to Alice several times a week, but Sheila didn’t realise and Tom couldn’t tell her to do it, but he knew that Maureen took Alice a casserole sometimes so perhaps she would be all right.

      ‘You know I love you,’ he told Rose. ‘Why don’t you treat yourself to a new dress or some good shoes, love?’ He took a five-pound note from his pocket. ‘I got paid for a job today – here take this and spend it on yourself.’

      ‘I don’t need the money, Tom,’ Rose said, hesitating to accept.

      ‘No, but you work hard and I want you to have it,’ he said. ‘I shall expect to see something nice, so don’t spend it all on the children…’

      ‘I won’t,’ Rose promised and hugged him. ‘Thanks, Tom. You spoil me. I’ve got lamb chops for supper – is that all right?’

      ‘One of my favourites,’ he said, ‘and if that is your mint sauce I can smell, I’m in heaven…’

      4

      ‘Oh – well, if Ryan is taking you all on holiday to Scotland for Christmas then I can’t push you to come to us,’ Peggy said, trying hard not to let her disappointment show in her voice. ‘It sounds lovely – have a wonderful time, all of you…’

      ‘I know you wanted us to come to you, Mum,’ Janet said contritely, ‘but we do need this holiday – you know how hard it has been for us these past months.’

      ‘Yes, I do,’ Peggy replied, her voice dropping to a sympathetic murmur. ‘I’m sorry for what happened to you, love, but you’re still young enough to have another baby.’

      ‘No, Mum, I’ve made up my mind,’ Janet said and the hardness in her tone made her mother wince. ‘I’ve told Ryan I’m not prepared to go through that again. It isn’t just that it makes me feel so ill for weeks afterwards, I can’t stand any more pain and disappointment. I just want a quiet, peaceful life…’

      ‘I understand perfectly. After all, you’ve got Maggie. I know Ryan thinks the world of her and he loves you, Janet.’

      ‘Does he?’ Janet’s voice carried uncertainty and Peggy wished that she was with her daughter. Janet needed a hug, and perhaps a little shake, but you couldn’t do that over the phone. ‘He was the one who pushed for another baby after we lost Harry. He so much wants a son and I can’t give that to him…’ She caught back a sob. ‘I feel so useless and worthless.’

      Peggy could hear the tears in her voice and the pain caught at her chest. ‘Shall I drive down this Sunday?’

      ‘No, don’t,’ Janet said hastily. ‘Ryan has invited some of his work friends to lunch and if you came, he’d know I’d been crying down the phone to you. He thinks I should tell him if I have a problem, not come running to you…’

      ‘That’s a bit unfair of him,’ Peggy retorted, a note of anger in her own voice. ‘You should be able to talk to your mother and your friends.’

      ‘Ryan hates me discussing our problems with other people. He says it is private and I shouldn’t need to tell anyone else.’

      ‘It sounds to me as if your husband needs a good talkin’ to,’ Peggy’s reprimand came out more sharply than she intended. ‘I’ll put him straight if you like?’

      ‘No!’