Sunlight on the Mersey (15 page)

‘Call in again in about a week or ten days, Charlie,’ Mr Cookson advised as Charlie left.

He walked the rest of the way home in a far happier frame
of mind. If he could provide a really nice ring then what did it matter if it wasn’t new? And he’d been promised a discount. Why hand his hard-earned money over to one of the fancy jewellers in town and get something far smaller and less ostentatious in return? That wouldn’t be a very wise thing to do. Not good business sense at all.

‘You’re late, was there a hold-up?’ Kate asked when he finally arrived home.

Iris came in from the shop where she’d just finished serving Mrs Duncan, who had again run out of potatoes.

‘That woman would drive you mad! What does she do all day? Doesn’t she realise that people have got other things to do?’

Kate managed a wry smile. ‘No, I don’t think she does. Sit down and get this while it’s hot. Charlie has only just got in,’ she informed her daughter.

‘Get held up?’ Iris asked without much interest.

‘No, not really. I just walked halfway home,’ he replied offhandedly.

Kate pursued her lips. He certainly was saving hard, she thought. Any day now she expected him to tell her that he’d proposed to Florence.

‘You going out with Tom Morrissey again on Saturday?’ Charlie asked, helping himself to a slice of bread to accompany the thick meat stew his mam had served.

‘I am. Any objections to that?’ Iris asked. She was tired; it had been a long day and Rose hadn’t been much help. She was
aware that her sister didn’t like working in the shop, finding the hours long, the conditions at this time of year cold and the customers irksome. Often at quiet moments Rose resorted to reading, which irritated Iris for she could always find something that needed attending to.

‘No, seems like a decent enough bloke to me. Can’t say it’s much of a job he’s got though.’

‘He’s very thankful he’s got a steady job. Not everyone can work in an office!’ Iris snapped back.

‘Oh, don’t start, you two! I’ve enough on my mind,’ Kate said crossly.

‘What’s the matter, Mam? Has someone been upsetting you – in the shop, I mean?’ Charlie asked.

Kate shook her head. ‘No, nothing like that. Oh, I suppose I’m just tired,’ she replied. In fact she was worried about Rose, who lately seemed very down and uninterested in everything, except the novels she read, and she wondered if it was because she was missing Bill. Well, they all were of course, there was a huge gap in her own life, but maybe Rose wasn’t coping as well as Iris and Charlie seemed to be. Or was it something to do with Iris now courting? Did Rose feel left out? Perhaps she should have a talk to her youngest daughter. Then there was the pain in her back which had gone from being a twinge to a constant dull ache. She
was
tired and she was getting older, too old for all this bickering between Charlie and Iris.

Her opportunity to talk to Rose didn’t arise until the following Saturday evening when Iris had gone to meet Tom Morrissey and Charlie had gone to Florence’s for supper.
Rose had helped her to clear away after their supper and had then gone upstairs to fetch her book.

‘Rose, luv, before you get engrossed in that I want to talk to you,’ Kate started.

Rose looked at her apprehensively. ‘What have I done wrong now, Mam? Has Iris been complaining that I’m not chatty enough with the customers?’

‘Of course not! You haven’t done anything “wrong”, Rose,’ Kate replied, stoking up the fire in the range for the evenings were getting much colder now.

Rose sat down in the chair near the range and looked expectantly at her mother.

‘I’d be a very poor sort of a mother if I didn’t know that you’re not happy, Rose. What’s wrong, luv? You know you can tell me. Is it . . . losing your da?’

Rose bit her lip; it was impossible to hide much from Mam. ‘It is and it isn’t, Mam. I still can’t get used to the fact that he . . . he’s . . . gone. I still look for him when I come into the kitchen and it’s still a shock that he isn’t here.’

Kate nodded, struggling to keep her composure for Rose’s words were probing the deep wound of her own grief. ‘I know, luv. I find that too. Sometimes I turn to speak to him, to tell him something, and then it . . . it’s awful to realise he’s not there,’ she confided. ‘Or is it something to do with both Charlie and Iris courting? Are you feeling left out?’ she pressed.

Rose shook her head. ‘No, Mam, I don’t feel like that. I’m happy for them both and I know that someone will come along for me one day and then . . .’

‘Then what is it, luv? What’s making you so . . . down and dispirited? You were never like this before you went down with rheumatic fever. You don’t feel ill, do you?’ Kate fervently hoped Rose wasn’t sickening for something else.

‘No, I feel fine in myself, Mam, honestly, but . . .’

‘But what? You have to tell me, Rose, or I’ll worry myself sick,’ Kate urged.

Rose felt utterly miserable. How could she tell Mam that she hated working in the shop? It was so cold now and she had little interest in the conversations of their customers, which usually centred on how hard their lives were, how little money they had, their children’s ailments and a hundred other insignificant details of their lives. The time dragged and so whenever she could she would read, immersing herself in the life and loves of the heroine, although she knew Iris strongly disapproved. ‘It . . . it’s working in the shop, Mam. Oh, it’s much better than working at Black’s but . . .’ She twisted her hands together, not wanting to continue.

Kate looked at her closely. ‘It’s more than that isn’t it, Rose?’

Miserably she nodded. ‘Mam, I . . . I . . . wish I could go back to Tregarron. I miss it so much, especially now that Da isn’t here. Of course I love you and Iris and Charlie but . . .’ Rose struggled to put her feelings into words. ‘Having lived there I find I can’t bear the way everyone lives on top of each other here, all the noise from the street, the traffic, the crowds, the dirt and litter, people coming into the shop full of moans and complaints . . .’

Kate sighed deeply. ‘You worked in the post office at Tregarron too, Rose.’ She hadn’t realised that Rose had become so disenchanted with city life.

‘But it was different, Mam! It . . . it wasn’t all the time and the people there were different too.’

‘It was summer then, Rose. It wouldn’t be the same place in the winter,’ Kate mused.

Rose summoned up as much courage as she could. ‘Mam, can I . . . can I go back, please?’

Kate stared into the flames. She didn’t want Rose to go away but she didn’t want her to stay here pining either. Tregarron offered a very different kind of life to the one Rose now lived but she obviously wanted that. What could she say? There were all kinds of problems to be overcome. Rose would have to find work to support herself – Gwen couldn’t possibly be expected to keep her. But what could she do? As far as she knew, apart from maybe working in a shop, there were few opportunities. She might be fortunate enough to get a job in a shop in Denbigh but transport would be a problem. ‘I’ll have to think about it, Rose. It’s a huge decision to make. It would be a very big . . . change for you and for me. I’d miss you so much and I know Iris would too.’

‘But you
will
think about it at least, Mam?’ Rose pleaded, thankful that her mother hadn’t dismissed the possibility of her return out of hand. If only she could make her mother understand just how much she missed the tranquillity, the open spaces, and the slower pace of life that had afforded her time . . . time to herself.

‘I’ll think about it, Rose, I promise,’ Kate reiterated, thinking she would have to discuss it with Iris too, for if Rose were to go back Iris would have to run the shop by herself. Could she cope with that?

K
ATE HAD GIVEN THE
matter a great deal of thought over the following days and she had watched Rose closely, noticing for the first time that the girl didn’t eat very much and seemed very listless and disspirited at the end of each day. She had been so wrapped up in her own grief and the worry of everyday life that she hadn’t realised how unhappy her youngest daughter was, which disturbed her. She felt guilty and upset at the same time. Guilty that she hadn’t noticed and upset that Rose wanted to leave both home and family.

‘Mam, you’ve not been listening to a word I’ve been saying,’ Iris said sharply. She’d been outlining what extras she intended to stock in the shop for Christmas and had been seeking Kate’s approval. Charlie was out with Florence and
Rose had gone up, saying she would have an early night but would read for a while.

‘I’m sorry, luv. I was thinking about Rose,’ Kate replied.

‘Has she said anything to you, Mam? I know there’s something bothering her but I don’t know what it is. I can hardly get a word out of her these days.’

‘She wants to go back to Tregarron. I asked her myself what was wrong. She’s not been herself since—’

‘None of us has,’ Iris interrupted.

‘I know but, but lately she’s been so quiet and . . . down and she eats like a bird. I just didn’t realise that she was missing the place so much until she told me and the last thing I need is for her to be pining.’

Iris frowned. That was true: Mam had enough to worry about without Rose moping. ‘I know she’s not happy working in the shop, Mam. She won’t make an effort to hold a conversation with anyone and you know how much the customers love a good gossip. What did you say to her about Tregarron?’

‘That I’d think about it and I have been, Iris. I hate to see her so miserable but if she goes she’ll have to find a job to support herself and that’s not going to be easy. And, as I reminded her, she was there in the summer; it might be a very different place in winter. Too quiet, too isolated.’

‘And she wasn’t grieving for Da then either,’ Iris added.

Kate nodded. ‘If she went, Iris, how would you feel about it? You’d be in the shop on your own. Would you be able to manage at busy times?’

‘Oh, that wouldn’t bother me, Mam, of course I’ll manage.
You ran it on your own and really there are times when Rose is a bit . . . superfluous, but coming up to Christmas I might need her help.’

Again Kate nodded. ‘It does get busy.’ She sighed heavily. She wasn’t looking forward to Christmas this year. She would miss Bill even more.

Iris smiled. ‘I just hope there won’t be too many like Mary Duncan or we’ll be open until midnight.’

Kate had come to a decision of sorts. ‘I’ll write to Gwen and see what she has to say about it. She might not want Rose there permanently; just visiting for a few months was a very different thing. Now, don’t mention anything to Rose.’

‘I won’t, I promise.’

‘If Gwen doesn’t mind and we can sort something out job-wise and I decide to let her go it won’t be until early next year. I won’t leave you to struggle through Christmas on your own and besides . . . this will be the first Christmas without your da and I’d like you all around me as I know it’s going to be difficult.’

Iris reached over and took her hand. ‘We’ll get through it, Mam – together.’

Kate smiled at her. ‘We’ll have to, luv. Now, what were you saying about stocking holly and mistletoe?’

Nearly two weeks later Charlie again called to see Mr Cookson on his way home from work. He’d left it a little longer to give the man more time. This time his appearance at closing time was met with a warmer welcome.

‘Charlie, just the lad! I’ve managed to get you a real bargain and it’s a beauty.’ He went into the back of the shop and reappeared with a small leather pouch.

Charlie leaned eagerly forward as a ring was drawn from the pouch and placed on the counter. It certainly was, or had been, a very expensive ring. The centre stone was a square-cut ruby surrounded by diamonds and the gold shoulders that held the stones were intricately and delicately carved with leaves. He whistled.

‘That is certainly a beautiful ring, Mr Cookson! I bet it cost a good deal more than six guineas when it was new.’

‘A great deal more, I’d say. I put the word out amongst my contacts and this came up. Belonged to a lady who is finding it difficult to maintain her lifestyle on what her late husband left her, so I was told. Of course I’ve given you the discount I promised, so for you, Charlie, it’s six guineas.’

Charlie picked it up and examined it more closely. Yes, it was just what he’d wanted. ‘Florence will be delighted, I’m sure, and I’m certainly very, very grateful. I’ll get the money tomorrow and call in on the way home, if that’s all right with you?’

The older man nodded and returned the ring to the pouch. ‘I’ll give it a good clean and put it in a proper ring box and you’ll never know it’s not brand new.’

Charlie was about to express his thanks when the man delved under the counter, searching for something.

‘I saw this the other day and it took my fancy. Would you give it to your mother for me as a mark of respect? Tell her I
thought that seeing as now she’s one of us – so to speak – it’s rather appropriate.’ He held out a small gold brooch. It was circular and inside the circle were three balls of gold, the symbol of the pawnbroker’s trade.