Big Dreams for the West End Girls

by Elaine Roberts

  Ted shook his head. ‘She loved me dearly, and I know that it never diminished but I didn’t appreciate that love and let her down. I let it go in a bid to keep winning money to make our lives more comfortable. She kept telling me that she wasn’t bothered about any of that; she just wanted us to be happy, and to have more children. If I’m honest I wanted to give her the life Arthur and Dot had but Arthur was right: I had it all and didn’t look after it, and that’s something I have to live with.’

  Joyce felt her anger ebbing away as she thought about his words. ‘I suppose pride gets in our way. I wonder if that’s the biggest sin of all because it holds you in a place, and not a very good one at that. I expect Simon’s injuries are coming between us right now, for very different reasons, and the pride that goes with it. Neither of us are mentioning it, partly because of his injuries, but also because of how it was left between us. The trouble was, at the time, I had so much on my plate. I had just found out about Philip, and before that I’d agreed to run the café. I couldn’t cope and didn’t want a sympathy marriage proposal.’

  Ted frowned as he looked down at her. ‘You do know he still loves you, don’t you? That hasn’t gone away.’

  Joyce laughed, but it wasn’t humorous sound. ‘And, pray tell, how do you know? You’ve only met him the once.’

  It was Ted’s turn to give a gentle laugh. ‘I love it; you’re so innocent.’ He paused. ‘You’re right, I have only met him once and yet he bailed me out so what does that tell you?’

  Joyce’s lips tightened. ‘And that’s something else that makes me angry because none of us can afford to pay it back and I don’t want to be beholden to him or anybody else.’

  ‘You won’t be, don’t you worry about that.’

  ‘All right, Pa, tell me: how are you going to pay it back?’

  ‘That’s my concern but a married couple shouldn’t start off their life together with money problems between them.’

  Joyce stopped walking and stood rooted to the spot. ‘What?’

  ‘I have the money here in my pocket.’ Ted looked around before patting his trouser pocket. ‘Jeremiah, or Jerry as I like to call him.’ He chuckled. ‘Anyway, he gave it to me when your grandmother passed away, and before you say anything I’m not going to gamble it. I’m going to pay off my debts and make a home for Philip, you, and me; if you want to come that is. I understand if you want to carry on living with your friends but I would like to take Philip home, if you’d let me.’

  Joyce stared. ‘I don’t know what to say. He’s your son so you’re entitled to do whatever you see fit.’

  Ted nodded. ‘I know that, but whatever I do, I want to do with your blessing. I want to know that I have my daughter back and that you will visit me and Philip. I want you to stop being a mother and start being a daughter.’ He laughed. ‘Of course, you might start being a wife before that happens.’

  Joyce stared straight ahead. ‘Will you stop saying that? There’s no marriage going to happen here. I might even have to find another job.’

  ‘That’s never going to happen.’ Ted shook his head. ‘I tell you, Simon loves you, and he won’t want you to leave the café or him. I think a bigger problem is that he’ll think he can’t look after you because of his injuries. But you could address that if you were just honest about your feelings and opened up to him.’

  ‘And what if he doesn’t want me? What if he rejects me like I rejected him?’

  Ted took a chance and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘He won’t. I know you don’t believe me, but he loves you and that’s obvious to me. One thing I’ve learnt, between your ma dying and the war, is that life’s short and we have to grab it while it’s there to be grabbed. You know in some cases there’s no warning; everything you hold dear is suddenly whipped away from you.’

  Shaking her head, Joyce looked up at him before staring back at the road ahead. She wrinkled her nose as smoke wafted in their direction. ‘Is that a fire?’

  Ted looked up and sped up as he walked along the path. Joyce was almost running beside him. She almost screamed when she realised it was the Meet and Feast Café. Mavis was outside screaming for someone to get Simon out.

  *

  Joyce went running towards the fire but Ted grabbed at her arm, pulling her back. ‘This is something I have to do.’ He pulled his jacket over his head and ran forward.

  Time stood still as Joyce heard her father coughing in between shouting Simon’s name over and over again. The stench of smoke and dust filled the air. A blood-curdling shriek rang out, jerking Joyce out of her trance. She ran towards the screaming and put her arm around Mavis’s shoulders, holding her tight, squeezing her soft woollen jacket. ‘It’s going to be all right. My father will get Simon out.’ She held her breath, too scared to speak or move her gaze away from the café doorway.

  ‘How do you know that? He could be dead already.’ Mavis sniffed. ‘Oh my goodness I hope your father does find him and pull him out.’

  They both jerked and stooped down as the shards of glass blew out on to the pavement from the window, quickly followed by billowing clouds of black smoke. They kept their heads down as the heat and the dust rained down on them.

  Joyce wondered if she was going to lose her father all over again, before she had chance to let him know she loved him and didn’t want to be angry anymore. Then there was Simon. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. Was she going to be given that chance? She looked heavenward, hoping God was listening to her low tones. ‘Please forgive me as I must learn to forgive others. Please don’t take them from me; please let me tell them how much I love them.’

  Mavis sobbed. ‘He’s only just come back. He can’t walk so your father will have to drag him out.’ A yelp escaped. ‘I can’t bear the thought of him dying in that rotten café.’

  ‘Don’t think like that. You’ve got to have faith.’ Joyce hugged her tight. ‘If my father can get him out he will; we just have to pray that he’s going to be all right.’ A tear ran down her cheek, its saltiness resting on her lips as she fought the urge to run in after her father. She frantically looked around for someone to help. ‘Mr Harris?’ Was that the landlord she saw standing there with a strange look on his face? She raised her voice. ‘Mr Harris, is that you?’

  The man turned her way before quickly looking away and striding down the road.

  Joyce shook her head; she couldn’t be certain in this light but felt sure it was him. Did he start the fire? Why? And what was Simon doing in there? He was meant to be resting.

  Coughing and spluttering came from the café, getting louder as it got nearer to the door. Ted suddenly appeared carrying Simon in his arms.

  The women both ran forward as Ted laid Simon on the ground. Mavis was sobbing as she dropped to the ground beside her son. Ted was bent over double, gasping for air. Dust and smoke oozed from him. The sleeve to his once-white shirt was torn with scorch marks on it.

  Joyce immediately stepped back from Simon and moved towards her father. ‘Thank you, you probably saved his life.’ She suddenly glanced up at him. ‘My goodness, are you all right? Did you get hurt?’ She pulled at his sleeve. ‘You shirt obviously got burnt but did you? You might have to go to the hospital to get checked out.’

  Ted shook his head. ‘I’ll be fine; I could do with some water to take the smoke out of my mouth. Go and look after Simon. He needs it more than I do.’

  An ambulance and fire engine suddenly came rattling down the road and the area became a hive of activity as the fire was doused with water.

  A young woman stepped out of the ambulance and ran over to Simon. ‘Lie still for a moment. My name is Alice. What’s yours?’

  Simon licked his dry, scorched lips. ‘Simon, Simon Hitchin.’

  Alice nodded. ‘That’s good, Simon. Were you in the café when it caught fire?’

  Simon nodded.

  Alice pulled his tie lose and undid his top button. ‘Do you know whether there was anyone else in there?’

 
; Simon shook his head. When he tried to speak it was a croaking sound. ‘No, the fire started in the kitchen.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the fire; just lie still for a moment. I want to listen to your breathing and see if you have any burns that need treating.’ Alice carefully and silently checked Simon’s body. ‘You seem to have been very lucky; there’s only what appears to be minor burns on your legs but your hands will need treating.’

  ‘You won’t be doing any baking in the café tonight.’ Ted sighed and wrapped his arms around his daughter and hugged her tight. ‘I wonder how the fire started, and what was Simon doing here at this time in the evening?’

  Alice looked up and spoke to Mavis. ‘I’ll take him to St Thomas’ just to get him looked at. They might want to keep him in overnight.’ She turned to Ted. ‘How are you?’

  ‘You mean apart from burnt clothes and stinking of smoke?’ Ted smiled. ‘I’m unharmed, thank you.’

  Simon tried to prop himself up. ‘No, I’m not going to hospital. I don’t need to waste valuable bed space.’

  Alice peered over her shoulder at Simon and frowned. ‘Will you at least let me take you so they can give you a thorough check.’

  Simon scowled. ‘I’m not staying in though.’

  Alice turned back to Ted.

  ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, although I’m not sure my jacket is.’ Ted hooked up his jacket that had fallen to the ground, its woollen sleeves still smoking where they had been singed by the fire. ‘I’d better get you home,’ he said to Joyce.

  Joyce turned to Mavis. ‘What are you going to do? I don’t think you should be on your own.’

  Mavis rested her hand at the base of her neck. ‘I don’t know. I want to go with Simon.’

  Joyce nodded. So did she but she hadn’t earned that right. ‘What about Barbara? Do you want me to go and tell her while you go to the hospital?’

  Mavis’s eyes darted around for a moment. ‘Barbara isn’t in. She’s gone to the theatre with a friend. I walked with them to this point.’ She took a deep breath. ‘It’s only because I stopped to admire some material in the haberdasher’s window that I’m unharmed; otherwise I would have been in the café as well.’ She shuddered. ‘When I turned round that’s when I saw the smoke and the flames.’ Mavis clung on to Joyce. ‘It was then you and your father came along, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’

  Joyce patted Mavis’s arm. ‘Thankfully, it looks like Simon won’t have any lasting damage from it.’

  They both watched Simon being put into the back of the ambulance. Joyce could feel her tears pricking at her eyes, as it dawned on her they would no longer have an excuse to see each other. It was definitely over, what little hope she thought there was had gone up in flames with the fire.

  *

  Everyone sat in silence in the dining room. Joyce closed her eyes as she tried to take in the events of the day. Her throat tightened as the lump formed, making it hard to swallow. Her eyes snapped open; she couldn’t allow herself to wallow in self-pity.

  Annie frowned as she looked over at Joyce. She looked grey in colour. Her eyes were red and bloodshot. She had no words, but then no one did.

  Rose looked up as people passed by outside the house, their loud voices screaming in the silence of the dining room.

  Joyce felt numb, having lost her grandmother earlier, and now her place of work was gone. She shook her head. She had been finally realising her dream along with the man she loved, but she had to forget it all now. It had gone up in smoke with café. She had no idea what the future held for her. She had heard how much could be earned in the munitions factories; if they were true it was definitely well-paid work. Joyce had heard women with yellow streaks in their hair talking about it, but she’d also heard rumours of the many deaths from working there too.

  She remembered the horse and cart funeral procession going slowly past the café and the women walking either side of it. Someone had said it was one of the canary girls. It was explained to her they were called that because working there turned their hair yellow. Prior to finding Philip and her father that might not have bothered her, but her friends had arrived with their encouragement to live her dream, and Simon had offered the means when he found out about it. There had been hope, but now that had all been ripped away; it was no more. Maybe she was never meant to cook; maybe her calling was to work in a munitions factory.

  She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the armchair. Her mind was in turmoil as she tried to figure out what to do. The nearest munitions factory was either over the river in Woolwich or she’d have to travel to the docks in Silvertown, which wasn’t a short journey. When Joyce spoke her voice was barely a whisper. ‘I think I saw the landlord watching the fire, but I can’t be certain it was him.’

  Arthur tightened his lips. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me; he wanted you and Simon out of there. Although, I would like to think he didn’t know Simon was inside the café at the time.’

  Joyce’s face contorted with anger. ‘It’s people’s livelihoods; it was Simon’s father’s dream. How can anybody think that was the right thing to do?’

  Everyone looked at each other, hoping for some words of wisdom from someone, but there were none.

  Joyce cleared her throat. ‘The fire looked bad so I’ve obviously lost my job now.’

  Arthur looked at the young girl he regarded as his own daughter and wondered what words he could offer. ‘Try not to worry. Tonight is not the time to be thinking about what you do next.’

  Ted sat there in silence; he didn’t know how his daughter was still breathing. He knew instinctively it wasn’t the café she was pining for, it was Simon. All contact was now lost. Could he help in some small way? His mind jumped about wondering what he could do. Maybe, he should go and talk to Slips. He wasn’t sure that was wise but he would know where Simon lived. He would know where everybody lived when it came to his business, or Ted’s. Then he could go and talk to Simon and see what plan they could come up with. He kept his thoughts to himself. Joyce wouldn’t thank him for interfering, and rightly so. He knew he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. His daughter looked broken; they clearly loved each other. It was his time to prove to Joyce how much she meant to him.

  Arthur frowned as he looked over at Ted before looking back at Joyce. ‘Maybe this is the time for you to start again. I mean maybe it’s your turn to open your own restaurant, tea room or café, whatever you want.’

  Rose’s eyes widened as she looked at Arthur. ‘That’s a good idea. That way out of something awful something good will happen.’

  Joyce looked from one to the other. Tiredness seeped from every orifice. ‘I don’t have the money to set up a restaurant or anything else for that matter.’ She turned to Annie. ‘You need to tell Kitty and Stan that I won’t be able to do the food and they won’t be able to use the café for their wedding.’ A tear slowly trickled down Joyce’s cheeks.

  Annie nodded. ‘I’ll tell her about the café, but we’ll just have to think of another place she can hold it. I think you can still do the food; we just need to put our thinking caps on and see what we can come up with.’

  Ted studied his daughter. ‘Let me help you, Joyce. I know I’ve been a rotten father to you over the years but please let me make amends.’

  Joyce looked at her father. ‘That’s all in the past and I’m too tired to have a fight about things that have already happened. We need to move on, if only for Philip’s sake.’ She looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I’m really doing you an injustice; you probably saved Simon’s life tonight so you have nothing to prove to me. What were we saying earlier about pride? Well, the past is the past and that’s where it should stay. We need to try and look forward; only at this precise moment I’m not sure I can do that.’

  Ted lifted one side of his mouth. ‘We were, but let me also remind you what I said earlier this evening, about how much Simon loves you. I know you don’t believe it but I think the way he’s been acting sinc
e he’s been back is all to do with his injuries so a conversation needs to be had.’

  Annie and Rose both nodded in agreement.

  ‘I hate to say this, Joyce, but I think your father’s right.’ Arthur glanced over at Ted before looking back at Joyce. ‘Some of the things I’ve seen and heard, and from what Annie and Rose have said, everyone is in agreement that you two are meant to be together. It just means you have to have an honest conversation with each other. Life is too short to throw your love away, as your father and I both know.’ He turned and studied Ted for a moment. ‘We’re lucky to have been given a second chance with the people we love but you have to grab it with both hands and look after it.’

  Ted nodded.

  Joyce shook her head. ‘I can’t put myself out there; it would be too painful if Simon disagreed.’

  Ted watched her closely. There was no emotion. She had shut herself down to cope. He had seen her do it before when life got too difficult to deal with.

  21

  Joyce pushed open the heavy street door of Jeremiah King’s office. The heat hit her as she walked into the dark, hushed surroundings. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust after being outside. The prim and proper lady was sitting in the same position at the large desk; she smiled as Joyce walked in. Joyce’s heart was pounding as she took in the book-lined walls and the red velvet seated chairs, reminding her of the last time she was there. She peered over her shoulder at her father who had followed her in.

  Suddenly she remembered Mr King’s strange expression when she mentioned her father was dead. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but it dawned on her now that he knew he wasn’t but hadn’t told her. She had left the office with her life turned upside down, having been told that Arthur wasn’t her uncle and she could have a five-year-old boy to look after. Joyce had fretted that morning about leaving Philip with Arthur. He had been close to their grandma and took a while to settle after seeing her. Joyce didn’t want him to think she was leaving him too. She had promised him she wouldn’t be long.