by Anne Bennett
Bert stroked his chin and conceded, ‘You could be right. People say eventually we’ll have a man walking on the moon. Seems fantastic.’
‘Damn foolishness if you ask me,’ Betty said. ‘Why would anyone in their right mind want to go up there?’
‘I suppose because it’s there, Mom,’ Janet said. ‘After all, that’s what that mountaineer once said when someone asked why he wanted to climb dangerous mountains like Everest.’
‘There’s none left to beat now,’ Duncan said. ‘Everest was scaled in ’53.’
‘And they say there’s no islands left undiscovered,’ Janet said. ‘I suppose the moon is the next place to explore. But it does sound incredible that people might actually land and walk about on the golden ball that hangs in the sky.’
‘It’ll never happen,’ Betty said firmly, but Janet thought it probably would.
‘I’d rather people concentrated their energies on finding out about the moon and not crushing small nations who try to protest about being controlled by a superpower,’ Bert said.
Janet knew Bert was thinking of the Hungarian rebellion. It had affected him badly. ‘I mean,’ he went on, ‘I spent six bleeding years fighting Hitler’s army, and for what? He’d goosestepped his way into Austria and annihilated all the Jews he could find, but we did nothing. It was only when he attacked Poland that we got involved, and then, when it was all over, we let Stalin stamp all over us, annexing Eastern Europe, including Poland, and did bugger all about it.’
‘What would you have us do, Bert?’ Betty said angrily. ‘Have everyone fight Russia after six bloody years of fighting Germany? Mothers and wives would have something to say about that. I know I would. Don’t you think losing two brothers and risking another one and my husband wasn’t a big enough price to pay?’
Betty usually took little or no part in discussions, and everyone was silent now, watching her. Janet knew her mother was perilously near tears, but she went on, not so angry now, and looking directly at Bert.
‘I saw you go off in ’39 waving and cheering like you were off to some carnival. Everyone was saying it’d be over by Christmas and they’d beaten the Jerries once and they’d do it again. Well, it weren’t over by Christmas and I saw some of those who came back, blind, injured, missing arms or legs or shell-shocked. I saw ordinary people trapped under rubble in the blitz, often crushed or blown to bits, and those who had their homes bombed from under them. They often had nothing but what they stood up in, and nowhere to turn either.’ She shook her head at Bert and went on, ‘There’s no glory in war, nor solutions either. We’ve already had two world wars and that’s two too many. We can’t go on telling people all over the world how to run their countries and declaring war if they don’t agree. No right-minded person wants that.’
Janet listened to her mother, amazed, and realised that Betty had had as bad a war as her father in her own way, though she’d never said much about it until now. She knew that her dad, for all his bluster, would agree with all Betty had said. He’d told Janet often enough of the carnage of war, and had only fought to try and ensure that she and Duncan and the others would grow up in a safer world. She didn’t know if it was much safer for all the fighting and hardship they’d endured, and was feeling quite depressed as she made her way to her grandmother’s house later that evening.
She wished Simon was there – he would have made her laugh, he was good company – but he had no leave due yet. She was surprised how much she was missing him. Desperate for company, she called at Ruth’s the following evening.
Ruth surveyed her friend with concern. ‘You look really tired,’ she said.
‘Thanks,’ Janet said sarcastically.
‘Well, you do,’ Ruth insisted. ‘I’m surprised no one else has noticed.’
Janet groaned. ‘Mom has,’ she said. ‘I keep telling her not to fuss. The point is, I am tired. The last four weeks of term we had teaching practice, which is really wearing, and then every weekend I’ve been coming home to help Sally prepare for the eleven-plus like Claire did for me.’ She glanced at Ruth, gave a sigh and went on, ‘I don’t mind, I mean, I always said I’d be there for her, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time for me. I can hardly let Mom and Dad know that, though.’
Ruth could see Janet’s point of view and said so. ‘Have you told Simon?’ she asked.
‘No, he’s dead homesick as it is,’ Janet said. ‘I try to cheer him up in my letters and he’s only got a few days’ leave over Christmas, so I’m not going to fill one of them up moaning.’
‘I see,’ Ruth said in mock indignation. ‘You don’t mind complaining to me, though.’
‘Of course not,’ Janet said. ‘You’re a friend. Simon – well, he’s a mere man,’ and the two laughed together as they hadn’t done for some time. Janet in particular felt a lot better and she was able to talk to Ruth of other things, like the outing to see The King and I with Sally and the twins.
‘Sally and I loved it,’ Janet said. ‘If I’d have allowed it, she’d have sung all the way home. Conner and Noel thought it was deadly boring. They’re into rock and roll, and Elvis Presley. I like that myself too, but their renderings of “Rock around the Clock” and “Heartbreak Hotel” are guaranteed to put the keenest fan off.’
‘How old are they now?’ Ruth asked.
‘Thirteen in January,’ Janet said. ‘They consider themselves big men now, nearly teenagers.’ She stopped and said, ‘I remember when I first heard the word teenager. It came from America, I think.’
‘Most things did,’ Ruth said.
‘Yes, including GIs and nylons, according to my aunt,’ Janet said with a laugh. She looked across at Ruth and asked: ‘Are you still seeing what’s-his-name?’
‘Phillip, yes, I am.’
‘Hasn’t he got to disappear to do his national service?’ Janet asked.
‘He’s done it,’ Ruth said, ‘he’s twenty-five.’
‘Is he?’ Janet said in surprise. ‘A mature man, eh, Ruth? He didn’t look it, I must say.’
‘Must be his boyish charm,’ Ruth said with a smile, then the smile slid from her face and she said more seriously, ‘I’m spending Christmas with him at his parents’ house.’
‘Is he Jewish then?’
‘No,’ Ruth said.
‘But …’
Ruth said, ‘It’s my life and I’m choosing how I’m going to live it. I can’t bring him home. You’ve met my grandmother, and she’s getting worse. He’s been for a few meals and met my parents, and they like him and he likes them. But I can’t ask him to stay at my house in the middle of a festival we don’t even celebrate.’
‘I suppose not.’
‘And his parents want to see something of him at Christmas. It seemed the logical thing to ask me to go too.’
‘Did your parents say you could?’
‘I didn’t ask them,’ Ruth said. ‘I told them I was going. They’re so cut up about what’s happening to Ben, they’re letting me run my own life.’
In case Ruth should again start relating the saga of Ben versus Therese, sprinkled liberally with Papa Steinaway, Janet broke in quickly, ‘Simon is spending Christmas with us and staying for the party Christmas night. He’ll spend the night on Gran’s sofa like before, and the next day I’m going to meet his parents.’ She made a face. ‘I didn’t want to go, but it’s only fair, I suppose.’
‘Are you still as keen on him?’
‘Oh, yes, I’ve missed him like crazy. Really it’s lucky I’ve been so busy,’ Janet said. ‘To be honest, if he hadn’t been doing his national service, he’d have probably felt very neglected.’
Ruth knew why Janet had changed the subject, so she didn’t mention Ben again. Instead she said, ‘Well, we won’t see each other at all over Christmas. Shall we meet in the new year and compare notes?’
‘It’s a date,’ Janet said. ‘And now let’s start the festive season the way we mean to go on, and go out for a drink.’
‘You’re on,’ s
aid Ruth. ‘Give me a few minutes to change.’
Janet found that meeting Simon’s family, who lived near Sheffield, wasn’t half as bad as she’d thought. She got on really well with his two younger sisters as well, and they were soon the best of friends. Simon was extremely happy that Janet had agreed to visit his parents that Christmas. To him it meant that the relationship had moved another step forward, and he was delighted that everyone got on so well.
‘They love you like I do,’ Simon said as he and Janet went for a walk after dinner on Boxing Day. ‘I knew they would.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I just do,’ Simon said. He pulled Janet close and kissed her tenderly. ‘I love you too, Janet Travers, but you know that. I’m crazy about you and I can’t wait to be done with the army and be with you all the time.’
‘Me too,’ Janet said, and added, ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I mean all the time,’ Simon said. He stopped, pulled Janet round to face him and said, ‘I mean marriage, Janet.’
Janet wasn’t surprised. She’d guessed what Simon had been leading up to. She said nothing; she could almost feel Simon’s nervousness. ‘Janet,’ he said urgently, ‘please will you marry me?’
Janet was moved by the emotion in Simon’s voice and the love tinged with slight trepidation she saw mirrored in his eyes. She wondered at her hesitation. She loved him, for heaven’s sake, and had been happy enough to wear the ring he’d given her on her twenty-first birthday, and that had been a commitment of sorts.
‘Oh, Simon,’ she said at last, ‘I love you so much and I do want to marry, but not yet. I want to finish my probationary year first.’
‘I know that,’ Simon said, holding her tighter. ‘We’ve talked about it before. I’d just like us to get engaged.’
‘Okay,’ Janet said.
Simon gave a whoop of joy. He could hardly believe it. Janet, the girl he’d loved from the moment he’d first set eyes on her, had agreed at last to marry him. He was ecstatic. His unbounded joy was infectious and they went back to the house hand in hand.
Both sets of parents were delighted with the news. Only Betty had misgivings, because Simon wasn’t a Catholic, but she kept her doubts to herself. As a non-practising Protestant he was a better bet as a prospective son-in-law than Ben Hayman had been as a Jew. So objections were few, and by the time Simon returned to his unit a diamond solitaire ring adorned Janet’s left hand. The wedding day was fixed for the second Saturday in August 1959.
After that the months passed fairly quickly. Janet’s second term of teaching practice was only moderately better than her first and just as exhausting. At the end of it, in April, Duncan and Frances were married at St Peter and St Paul’s church. Betty felt a pang of regret that Janet and Simon couldn’t have a nuptial mass like Duncan and Frances, but she stifled it. Janet knew what was in her mother’s mind, but she had no regrets. Simon was the man for her and she’d say the same if he turned out to be a Hindu, she thought.
Marriage seemed to be the rage of 1958. Shirley married Paul in May, before she’d even completed her course, Ruth and Phillip tied the knot in June, and Lou’s wedding was at the beginning of August, in the middle of the holidays. For the first time Janet was in the flat on her own. She thought she’d be lonely, for she’d seldom been alone in her life, but she found she enjoyed just being able to please herself for once, without having to consider anyone.
Sometimes, at night, she’d wonder whether she’d been right to agree to marry Simon when she had. Shouldn’t she have waited until he was demobbed? And what if he changed after marriage? Many men did; she read about it all the time in women’s magazines. She missed having Lou and Shirley to talk things through with and help her laugh her worries away.
Simon often wrote three letters a week to her, expressing his love in words Janet knew he’d be embarrassed to speak if they’d been face to face. He wrote how he longed to see her and lived for her letters, and Janet would be filled with tenderness for the man so far away. If he’d been nearer she knew he would have dispersed her doubts once and for all, but he’d been sent overseas just after Ruth’s marriage and she only had his letters to sustain her.
Breda was the only one she confided in, for Betty and Bert could see no wrong in Simon.
‘It’s just wedding nerves,’ she assured Janet.
‘Aunt Breda, it’s nearly a year away. Surely you only get nerves when the wedding’s close, like Ruth did?’
‘You’ve got to remember you had a bad experience with the first chap you went out with,’ Breda said. ‘It’s bound to make you a bit cautious.’
‘You don’t think I’m making a mistake now?’
‘With Simon? No, no, I don’t,’ Breda said decisively. ‘Course, I don’t know how you feel about him – only you could say that – but I know he’s a sight better than that creep Ben Hayman, who seemed so charming on the surface.’ She stopped suddenly, looked at Janet and said, ‘Do you ever hear from him now?’
‘No, why on earth should I?’
‘Well, you are friends with his sister. Doesn’t she ever mention him at all?’
‘Not really now,’ Janet said. ‘She used to tell me bits about him in the past, but I told her I wasn’t interested, so she stopped.’
‘So you don’t think about him at all?’
‘No,’ Janet burst out. ‘Auntie Breda, what are you getting at? This … this uncertainty with Simon has nothing to do with Ben.’
‘All right,’ Breda said. ‘Don’t bite me bleeding head off, girl. See, human nature’s a funny thing, and sometimes the more of a bastard a man is, the more he’s attractive to some. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘Well, that’s not my problem,’ Janet said. ‘I suppose I’m just scared of marriage regardless of the man concerned, and I do get fed up with Mum and Dad and even Gran going round talking about Simon as if he’s some sort of saint.’ She looked at her aunt and said, ‘Oh, Aunt Breda, what’s the matter with me?’
‘Nothing,’ Breda said, putting her arms around her niece. ‘Marriage is a big step. You’re promising to live with someone for life, not much chance of parole and no time off for good behaviour. It takes some thinking about.’
‘I do love him and I miss him,’ Janet said. ‘I think that’s part of the problem.’
‘Course it is,’ Breda agreed. ‘Plus this is the first summer holiday you’ve not worked for at least some of the time and you’ve got too much time on your hands. Believe me, when you start school next week, you’ll have less time to think of Simon and you’ll not miss him so much, and then the months will pass quicker till his demob.’
Breda, as usual, was right. Janet started at Meadowbank School in Leicester in September. The school served a large council estate which reminded Janet very much of the Pype Hayes estate where she’d grown up. She’d chosen the school because she thought she would be giving something back, carrying on the future she’d mapped out for herself at ten years old when she’d decided to be another Claire Wentworth.
She found, however, that it was more difficult than she’d imagined, and for the first weeks she was so confused, weary and shell-shocked that she fell gratefully into bed each night and slept deeply till morning. Neither Lou nor Shirley could understand why she’d chosen such a hard school in the first place. Only Ruth had an inkling of what was behind it all, and it was Ruth who Janet took her troubles to. ‘I wish Claire was here,’ she said fervently. ‘Maybe she could give me some tips. There’s probably a knack to it; there must be, or all the asylums would be full of gibbering teachers.’
‘Maybe they are,’ Ruth said with a laugh.
‘Well, thanks,’ Janet replied sarcastically. ‘You’re a great help, I don’t think.’
‘What about Lou and Shirley, what do they say?’
‘Oh, Lou seems to be coping okay, and Shirley gets bigger every time I see her and sickeningly mumsy all of a sudden.’
‘She’s pregnant?’ Ruth cried in surprise.
‘What about the rest of the staff?’
‘Some of them are okay, some are of the old school and don’t really like probationers,’ Janet said. ‘You have to be careful which chair you sit on in the staff room and which cup you use for your tea in case you upset someone. I can cope with all that, but I could do with having Claire around. She’d tell me how to stop myself strangling some of the little darlings in my care and to teach them something into the bargain.’
Ruth bit her lip, wondering whether she should tell her friend the latest developments in tracing Claire, but she decided not to. After all it could all turn out to be a false alarm and then her hopes would be raised for nothing. But the fact was Ben had been trying to locate the Carters ever since he thought he’d seen Richard at the conference, and just a few days earlier she’d received a letter from him.
Dear Ruth,
Just a note to let you know I haven’t given up on finding the Carters. I felt I was getting nowhere, but just last week I met an ex-colleague who’d recently met a man called Richard Carter who said he was living the other side of the Canadian border. Although he didn’t get his address, I know the general area.
He says the chap speaks with an English accent, is in the mental health field and mentioned that his wife had been sick, but he didn’t get her name. It’s worth checking out as the details fit, but don’t raise your hopes too high. It’s still a long shot. I won’t be able to get away until early spring, but I’ll travel up there and see if it’s the Richard and Claire Carter we knew. I’ll be across in England on business later anyway, so I’ll see you then.
Love, Ben.
In the end Ruth didn’t tell Janet about the letter. She seldom mentioned Ben to Janet now, because Janet went all huffy on her, and there was no point telling her about the investigations, for they could all come to nothing. Janet had been more upset about Claire’s disappearance than Ruth and she didn’t want her hopes raised unnecessarily. She did, however, in her reply to Ben, include a letter for her brother to give to Claire if she should prove to be the Claire Carter they all knew. In it she’d written how everyone had missed her and would love to hear from her if she felt able to write. She told of her marriage to Phillip and her job as a cub reporter, and of Janet following in her footsteps teaching and her impending marriage to Simon Webster in the summer. She added that Janet was finding the going hard at the moment and would welcome some encouragement. She explained that Janet didn’t know she was writing; she was keeping it quiet for the moment.