A Reunion at Mulberry Lane. Rosie Clarke

least you don’t have to cook for us when we get back,’ Able said. ‘The twins love coming here for their tea even though they often eat the same things as you make them at home…’

      ‘That’s kids,’ Peggy said fondly, thinking of Fay and Freddie, two very different characters although born only minutes apart.

      Now it was November 1949 and they were a few months away from their ninth birthdays, they were eagerly looking forward to Christmas, full of life and fun and often into mischief. Peggy’s non-working life mostly consisted of taking her twins to various clubs and events to keep them occupied, but she adored her life. Working every day with Able in their busy café, some twenty-odd miles from the busy seaside town of Torquay, and leaving at about a quarter to four to meet the children and take them home for tea kept her busy and happy, though sometimes she felt the work was a little too much.

      ‘They can choose what they want from the menu and you always let them have an extra slice of apple pie or pancake if they want…’

      Sandra often brought her own sons into the café too and gave them their tea. Peggy either refused payment or charged half price if Sandra insisted on paying. It worked for both families and all four children thought it was great, clamouring for Able’s pancakes and Peggy’s delicious apple pie with cream.

      ‘How can I refuse when I always have double helpings?’ Able said with a wicked gleam in his eyes. ‘I’ve always loved your pies, Peggy, especially the apple ones with cream or custard.’

      ‘During the war you were lucky to get either cream or custard,’ Peggy said and a shadow passed over her pretty face. Now into her late forties, she still looked youthful – Able told her she didn’t seem a day older than when he’d first walked into the pub in Mulberry Lane and fallen head over heels for her. ‘At least now we don’t go short of most things… apart from sugar. That’s still rationed and the Government don’t hold out any hope of it coming off just yet, though it’s better than it was…’

      Harold Wilson had announced the end to clothes rationing to the nation earlier that year and only a few things were now in short supply. Britain was recovering slowly, though the national debt caused by the long war, when the country had been forced to borrow from the Americans to keep going, was crippling.

      ‘You’ve found ways round it,’ Able said, smiling easily. ‘You always did, even in the war…’

      ‘You and your friends helped,’ Peggy replied fondly, because Able had brought her coffee from his base when it was impossible to buy any in London, also tinned fruit, salmon and sometimes sugar. He had a sweet tooth and liked a couple of spoonsful in his coffee.

      ‘We tried to help in a lot of ways,’ Able said and a shadow passed over his face, because a couple of customers had recently cast aspersions on the help given by the Americans, calling it too little too late in loud voices, which made him seethe, even though he swallowed his anger and wouldn’t let himself be drawn on the subject. ‘Though some folk don’t seem to think so…’

      Peggy knew more than most just how much help the American people had given them, because Able had been a General’s aide much of the time and knew about all the secret deals they’d done to keep Britain going through her darkest hours. Some British people even tended to forget that they’d had help from Canada, Australia, New Zealand and many other commonwealth countries, but many more seemed to blame the Americans, though for what she wasn’t sure. Except, that if questioned, they thought that if America had stood with Britain at the start, Hitler would never have dared to do half what he had; perhaps that was right… and yet the help given once committed was invaluable and decisive, bringing the tyrant to his knees.

      ‘They were just ignorant people,’ Peggy said now, because she knew Able had been hurt by the rudeness of those particular customers, who weren’t regulars but merely touring the coast of Devon. She’d been glad they only visited once. ‘You wouldn’t get that back home in Mulberry Lane. Our customers were friends there and wouldn’t dream of insulting you. We just have to ignore people who don’t understand.’

      ‘I know, hon,’ Able said, his smile reappearing. ‘We’ve had a good day – clearing three hundred pounds this week so far and we’ve still got Saturday to come…’

      Saturday was one of their busiest days. Peggy had two women to help her in the kitchen with the cooking from six until ten in the morning, after which she went home to be with the twins. They usually played with Sandra’s two boys in the garden until Peggy got home, when she took them to the local indoor swimming baths or, if it was too cold for that, they often went to the roller-skating park. It too was an indoor venue and both children were good at it, though Fay was best. She loved skating and wanted to progress to ice-skating, but there were no rinks close enough for Peggy to be able to take her daily and even once a month would be difficult, because they would have to travel into Torquay or Exeter.

      Fay had sulked over it on her last birthday when Peggy bought her a new pair of roller skates with smart white leather boots.

      ‘You know I wanted ice skates,’ she’d told her mother with a pout.

      ‘I can’t manage to take you to an ice rink,’ Peggy had replied. ‘It would be too far to travel after school, Fay. You like roller-skating and you’re good at it, so why change?’

      ‘Because ice skating is in the Olympics and roller skating isn’t.’

      Peggy had been shocked. Surely Fay’s ambition wasn’t set on becoming a champion ice skater? For a while in the summer her daughter had been entranced by Gorgeous Gussie Moran and the shocking outfit she’d worn for Wimbledon. Created by Teddy Tinling, it had caused a bit of an uproar and so captured Fay’s imagination. Her fascination had faded once the tennis was no longer on the newsreel at the pictures or in the papers.

      This latest craze would probably fade as quickly, Peggy imagined. She would never have thought of such a thing when she was a girl. If she got to swim with the school or play netball in the playground, it was as much as she would ever have thought of doing – but Fay was undoubtedly talented and it made Peggy feel guilty that she couldn’t spare the time to drive her daughter to the rink in Torquay several times a week.

      ‘What about you, Freddie?’ she’d asked Fay’s twin. ‘Do you want to learn to ice-skate too?’

      ‘No, thank you, Mum,’ Freddie had replied with a loving smile. He was so like Able and he made her heart sing every time he smiled. ‘I like roller-skating but only for fun – I wouldn’t mind some new football boots so I can play in the school team though; mine are nearly worn out…’

      ‘I’d have bought them before if I’d known,’ Peggy said, feeling regretful, because Freddie asked for so little. ‘Will Christmas do or do you need them now?’

      ‘My old ones will do for now…’

      Freddie never demanded or whined if he didn’t get his own way. He’d been born minutes after his sister, but she was the most demanding of the two. Fay had a temper and if thwarted could be difficult, while Freddie had the sweetest nature and never caused his mother a moment’s worry.

      ‘I’ll see if I can get them sooner,’ Peggy said. ‘It will mean a smaller present at Christmas, but I’ll see you have them in a couple of weeks…’ And she had. Fay had pulled a face, but Peggy bought her a pair of red button-up shoes and her smile reappeared.

      Money was never really tight these days in the Ronoscki household, but Peggy tried not to spoil the children and she liked to save a bit. Although the café was always busy, it cost money for rent, because they’d never actually bought a place of their own, and it was expensive to keep up to date with all the new coffee machines and replacements they constantly needed.

      ‘We have to keep a shine on the place,’ Able had told her when she’d hesitated over buying new crockery to replace sets that were depleted by chips and cracks. ‘If we give folk odd china, they will think we’re run-down and stop coming. A lot of our customers are youngsters at the weekend and they want a jukebox