Rose of Tralee (51 page)

‘I told you. I know you inside out, Tommy Frost,
that’s how. And by the same token, what made you think you could walk out on me, an’ leave me with a baby on the way. A baby, Tommy, that’s a real person, not just a job you don’t like or a landlady you don’t respect. It’s your baby as much as mine, you know.’

‘It’s your fault that you’re in the fam’ly way,’ Tommy grumbled, but he didn’t sound annoyed. He was still puzzled, she could tell. ‘Anyway, I’ve bought me boat.’ He turned to her, his face flushing with enthusiasm. ‘She’s a real beauty, Mona, just what I’ve been dreamin’ about. She holds twenty trippers, she’s gorra first-class engine an’ I’m the feller to keep it in good repair. She’s called
The Lively Lass
, but I did think I might rename her . . .’ he glanced sideways at her, then quickly away’. . . only it’s bad luck, they say, so she’ll stay as she is for now.’

‘That’s good,’ Mona said. ‘You don’t need bad luck, do you, Tommy? So when’ll we get wed, eh? I don’t mind a Register Office, seein’ as I’m gettin’ a bit heavy round me middle for floatin’ up the aisle in white.’

‘But I can’t burden meself wi’ a wife, not when I’ve just bought me boat an’ got meself lodgin’s,’ Tommy almost wailed. ‘You shouldn’t of come, Mona, an’ that’s God’s truth. You don’t want to marry me. There’s things you don’t know ...’

‘Norra lot, sunshine,’ Mona said grimly. ‘I know you’ve been stealin’ money from the corporation, Tommy, an’ they know an’ all. They’d be very interested to hear where you are right now. An’ you owe me aunt a week’s rent, to say nothin’ o’ that bleedin’ necklace. Don’t bother to deny it, you took it. So if you’re really not interested in mekin’ an honest woman of me as the sayin’ goes, I just might go round
to the local police station an’ tell ’em they’ve a wanted man livin’ in Lansdown Street.’

‘You wouldn’t!’

‘I would, then. Tommy, I don’t
want
to get rid o’ this baby, I want to have it, an’ be a proper mam to it. An’ I want to be wi’ you, you know I do.’

Tommy stopped looking hunted and for a moment smiled down at her with real affection. ‘Oh aye, there’s no one as suits me like you do, Mona. But I’m not cut out for marriage, responsibility, all that. You’d be better off wi’out me an’ that’s God’s truth.’

‘I don’t think so. I’ve known a lorra fellers, Tommy, but you’re the only one I’ve ever felt like this about. As if me life wouldn’t be worth livin’ without you in it somewhere. So what d’you say to that?’

‘I dunno as I can take it,’ Tommy said honestly. ‘Suppose we wed, Mona, an’ then it’s too much an’ I light out on you?’

‘Well, I’ll light out after you,’ Mona said. ‘We’re on the same wavelength, an’ that’s God’s truth, as you’re so fond of sayin’. I found you this time, I’ll find you next time. It’s as though you’re the magnet an’ I’m the pin. Wherever you go, I’ll find you, Tommy Frost.’

Tommy stood quite still for a moment, then swung her round to face him, his oily hands gripping the shoulders of her best blue linen jacket. He was smiling suddenly, lit up with an inner glow of happiness which she had not seen in him before. ‘You’re on then, Mo. I’ll stand by you, an’ I reckon we’ll do okay, betwixt us. Can you still work? Only I suppose you’re goin’ to mek me send the rent back to Mrs Ryder?’

‘I can work,’ Mona said. ‘You can write a nice letter to me aunt, along wi’ the money, an’ you can tell her we’ll pay back the necklace money somehow.’

‘I’ll do better’n that; I’ll send her the pawn ticket,’ Tommy said triumphantly. ‘I meant to sell it, but I only pawned it. Mind, it’s been in an’ out a few times ... but the six months ain’t up, she can reclaim it. As for a letter, I’ll send one, but I won’t send it from here. I’ll persuade someone goin’ down to London on the train to post it there ... that’ll muddy the waters. Did you get a room in me digs? Old Ma Robbyns still hasn’t let the small room over the porch.’

‘She told me they were all gone,’ Mona said. ‘But why don’t we move into different digs, Tommy, where we can be together? I know we oughter wait till we’re wed, but that cake’s been cut. No reason why we shouldn’t get married in a week or so, but tell ’em we’re married already. And tomorrer I’ll get a job, so’s I can help.’

‘Right,’ Tommy said exultantly. He turned to her, his oily face wreathed in smiles. ‘Oh, I could hug you, Mo Mullins!’

‘Wait till you’ve had a wash,’ Mona advised. ‘I say, Mona Frost sounds rather good, don’t you think?’

‘It sounds very good,’ Tommy said. He took her hand firmly in his. ‘I just hope the baby’s a boy, so’s he can help me wi’ me boat. D’you know what, Mo? I’m rare glad you ran me to earth.’

‘Rosie, there’s a letter for your mam – it looks like Mona’s handwriting to me.’

Rose had just run down the stairs and was about to set off for work, with a hand on the kitchen door, when Mrs Kibble hailed her. She stopped short and beamed at the older woman, who was crossing the hall with a number of envelopes in her hand. ‘From Mona? Oh, thank God,’ she said devoutly. ‘I’ll give me mam a shout.’

‘It’s all right, she’s in the kitchen, we can go through,’ Mrs Kibble said. ‘I just hope it isn’t bad news.’

‘Well, nothing could be worse than silence,’ Rose pointed out, opening the kitchen door and going through it. ‘Mam, there’s a letter!’

‘From Mona? Oh, thank God,’ Mrs Ryder said, echoing her daughter’s words.

‘That’s right. Do hurry and open it, Mam, so’s I can get off to work wi’ a clear conscience. I’ve been that worried even my work’s suffered, so Patchett & Ross will be just as glad to hear Mona’s got in touch as we are.’

Lily Ryder took the envelope that Mrs Kibble was holding out and opened it with shaking fingers. She unfolded the sheet of paper, ran her eye quickly over it and gestured to the others to come right into the kitchen and sit down. ‘We might as well be comfortable,’ she said. ‘There’s a couple o’ pages.’

She made as if to chuck the envelope in the fire but Rose reached over and tweaked it out of her hand. ‘What’s the postmark? Oh, it’s London, posted the day before yesterday. Better hold on to it, though.’

Mrs Ryder gave her a bemused look but smoothed out the envelope, which she had crumpled in her hand preparatory to throwing it onto the kitchen fire, and took her own seat at the table. ‘It’s from Mona all right and tight,’ she said, turning to the last page. ‘Yes, it’s signed Mona Mullins. Right, here goes, then.

Dear All

I do hope you’ve not been worrying about me, because I’m doing fine. I followed Tommy down to London and we’re going to get married and make a home for ourselves down here, though he took some persuading at first! I’m sorry about borrowing money from you, Rosie, but I’ll pay it back just as soon as I can, I promise. And I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, Aunt Lily, but I think you knew all along that it were Tommy for me, and I was sure, really, that he felt the same about me, so I followed him and found him, and all’s well that ends well.

There’s a lot more to say and to tell you, but I won’t do it until I can clear everything up, which will take me a week or two. In the meantime, we’re living in the same lodgings and very nice they are, too. We’ll stay here for a bit, because you earn good money in London, then we’d like to move further south, because rents are awful high here.

I expect you wonder why I didn’t write sooner. Well, Aunt, it’s taken me this long to find Tommy, plus a couple of days to make him see marriage my way, but now we’ve settled everything and I
wanted to put your minds at rest. I am very happy, far happier than I ever thought I’d be, and Tommy seems to have a big smile on his face whenever he looks at me, which is good.

I won’t give you my address because we shan’t be here long, but as I said, I’ll be writing with a fuller story quite soon and in the meantime all my love to everyone.

Your loving niece,

Mona Mullins

‘Well, I’m blessed,’ Mrs Kibble said as her friend stopped reading. ‘She might have thought how you’d worry though, Lily. She could have dropped you a line earlier, even if she could only have said that she was in London hunting for Tommy and quite all right.’

‘I’m ever so relieved,’ Rose said in heartfelt tones. ‘I was so worried . . . but I should have known Mona wouldn’t do anything silly.’

‘Anything silly? What sort of thing? And why should she?’ Lily said at once. ‘I did wonder, when she disappeared like that without even a note to tell us she wouldn’t be home for tea.’

‘Well, I knew she were very fond of Tommy,’ Rose said, confused. ‘I mean ... it seemed so odd him disappearing one day and her the next. As you said, Mam, he were one step ahead of trouble over money with the Corporation and when Mona wanted to borrow some money . . . perhaps I should have guessed she wanted it for a train fare.’

‘You never mentioned the money afore,’ Lily said suspiciously. ‘Why not, chuck?’

‘Mona made me promise not to tell anyone,’ Rose said glibly. ‘But she will pay it back, I’m sure. Mona’s
all right, really. I wonder what the next letter will say, though.’

‘Wait and see,’ Lily said rather grimly. ‘I just hope it don’t say that Tommy’s lit out in the night and left her high and dry, the same as he did us. But this isn’t the time to go speculating, queen, or you’ll be late for work, and that would never do.’

Rose got her light coat off the back of the door and tied a headscarf over her hair. She said goodbye to Mrs Kibble and her mother, then went out into the yard. Her bicycle was in the shed and she wheeled it across the yard and into the jigger, then hopped along beside it, gathering speed, and jumped neatly into the saddle. She would not be late, she reflected, because she always gave herself ample time for the journey, but she would not be particularly early, either. But since she was always the first to arrive, and in fact now had the office keys in her charge for opening up, no one would know that she hadn’t reached the office before eight thirty, her usual time.

As she cycled along, Rose pondered on her cousin Mona. She had been terribly frightened when Mona had failed to turn up that evening, but had been unable to confide in anyone. She had walked up and down the jigger, then up and down the road, and in fact, had it not been for Mr Dawlish, she would probably have gone up to the police station and admitted that she thought it was possible her cousin had done away with herself.

But Mr Dawlish had put the lid on such unfounded fears. He came up the road with his seabag over his shoulder and hailed her from afar. ‘Miss Rose! Nice to see you, though I can’t kid meself you’re waitin’ for me with such impatience. I suppose you’re waitin’ for Miss Mona – she’s off for a trip, I gather. I saw her in
Lime Street a while back, wi’ a suitcase, waitin’ for a train. Where was she off to, then?’

‘I don’t know. A suitcase, you say?’

‘Well, a sizeable bag,’ amended Mr Dawlish, falling amicably into step beside her. ‘She looked excited, I thought. I did call out, but she didn’t hear me. She was just about to step into a carriage, so her mind was on her journey, I guess.’

At her urgent request, Mr Dawlish had repeated his story to her mother and Mrs Kibble, and it seemed to Rose that all of them slept sounder that night because of it.

But as the days passed and no word came, as the manageress of the flower shop came round indignantly to find out what had happened to Mona, Rose’s own particular worry began to resurface. Suppose Mona, in the grip of despair, really had decided to end it all? She might have chased after Tommy unsuccessfully and jumped into a river, or walked into the sea, or dived under a tram. Rose began to have nightmares and to spend time when she should have been working staring into space.

But that was all over now. Now they knew that Mona was safe, was with Tommy, and in due course no doubt they would be told officially that Mona was expecting a baby and – hopefully – that the two of them were about to marry. It’ll be odd, Rose mused, turning into Dale Street and slowing with a foot on the kerb, if Mona marries before me – and her so determined only to marry someone rich. Still, Tommy might well be rich, the way he carried on. And Rose herself, alas, was undoubtedly destined to be an old maid.

She reached the office and turned into the short passageway which the staff used to take their bicycles
into the building. She unlocked the heavy door, wheeled her bicycle inside and padlocked it to the banisters, then she ran lightly up the stairs to the main office and unlocked that door also, feeling the familiar little buzz of pleasure in the responsibility of ‘opening up’.

Rose brushed her hair with great vigour to do away with the flatness caused by the headscarf, got out tea-pot, tea and cups, and went into the small reception area. She would remain on duty here, seeing to anyone who came up, until Miss Eastman, whose job it was to man the small telephone exchange and deal with customers, arrived.

Mr Garnett had recently purchased a large and rather fine parlour palm and an aspidistra for the reception area and it was Rose’s pleasure to water the plants once or twice a week, and to feed them occasionally with stuff from a bottle with a picture of evergreens on the front. She liked the plants and did not agree with Mr Lionel, who said he was running an import-export business and not a hmm-hmmed house of pleasure, so she took great care of the plants, even dusting their leaves each morning and polishing the aspidistra, and only when she had done that and opened the big sash window opposite the reception desk did she sit down on Miss Eastman’s swivel chair and pull a magazine out of the top drawer. It was a copy of
Woman
and she was following the serial story with great interest, so was speedily absorbed.

‘Morning, Miss Ryder,’ someone said presently and Mr Lionel came past her, arms full of the post since he did not trust Albert, the office boy, not to lose half of it on the stairs or half-landing. ‘Nice morning.’

‘Good morning, sir,’ Rose said politely. ‘Spring’s on its way, I think.’

There was a short wait, then a group of employees all came heavily up the stairs together. Rose greeted everyone cheerily and presently was relieved by Miss Eastman, who came and sat behind the desk with her hair all anyhow and her cheeks scarlet from running – she was a plump, pretty girl who found the stairs a trial – and told Rose that she would be grateful for a glass of water when Rose had finished taking round the tea.