A Distant Dream

by Pamela Evans

  It was as much as May could do to keep her hands off the woman; she actually wanted to physically attack her and erase that smug look from her face. But she merely said, ‘I’m not a risk to anyone. As I have just told you, I am better.’

  ‘You haven’t just had a touch of flu, my dear,’ the other woman pointed out in a condescending manner. ‘What you’ve had could linger.’

  Furious now, but clinging to her damaged self-confidence, May said, ‘It did linger but now it has gone, thanks to the skill of the medical profession. With respect, Miss Matt, I suggest that you check your facts before holding forth on that particular subject. It’s bigots like you who take the humanity out of the human race.’

  ‘How dare you speak to me like that,’ objected the older woman, turning scarlet with rage, while the junior, a girl of about fifteen, watched closely, enjoying the proceedings enormously. Very little in the way of entertainment ever happened around here, and there was nothing like a good old barney to liven things up.

  ‘I dare quite easily as it happens,’ said May with a defiance she hadn’t known she possessed. ‘Fortunately I am not intimidated by people like you, so I will make my way upstairs. Goodbye.’

  With that she marched towards the stairs, angry, hurt and absolutely determined not to be beaten by this terrible prejudice.

  ‘So you are fully recovered then, Miss Stubbs?’ said the man in the personnel department at Bright Brothers, looking at her employee file.

  ‘Yes, completely better, thank you,’ she confirmed. ‘The doctor has told me that I can return to work.’

  ‘Mm.’ A thin, balding man in a dark suit and white starched collar, he had his elbows on his desk and his pyramided fingers supporting his chin. ‘Don’t you think you would be better suited now to work that is less physically demanding? A sitting-down job of some sort; in an office, perhaps.’

  ‘But shop work is what I know,’ she explained. ‘As my file will show you, I have been fully trained by Bright Brothers and I did very well in the job.’

  ‘But the nature of the work here demands that you are on your feet all day,’ he pointed out.

  ‘Yes, but as I have just told you,’ she began, increasingly frustrated, ‘I am fit and healthy now, so the job won’t be a problem.’

  ‘The thing is, my dear,’ he began, peering at her over his spectacles, ‘here at Bright Brothers we insist on our staff being totally reliable, and with the type of illness that unfortunately struck you down, you wouldn’t meet our requirements as far as that’s concerned.’

  ‘Can you tell me why, please, since I am no longer ill?’ she asked determinedly.

  He stroked his chin meditatively. ‘Because an illness like the one you have had could very well leave you vulnerable to other conditions, which would mean you taking sick leave. That would be very inconvenient for us.’

  ‘So Miss Matt thinks I am still infectious, and you are convinced that I’ll let you down, when I have assured you both that neither of these things are the case,’ she told him.

  ‘I’m very sorry, Miss Stubbs, but we have nothing suitable for you at the moment,’ he informed her, rising sharply to indicate that the interview was at an end. ‘I wish you well and hope that your recovery continues.’ He walked to the door and opened it for her. ‘Goodbye, my dear.’

  May marched out of the store fuming. She had heard rumours of this sort of thing when she’d been at Ashburn but hadn’t realised they were so devastatingly true. Well, this wasn’t over by a long chalk. She would keep trying until she did get a job, and prove that she was worth employing.

  The morning rush was over at the Pavilion and Flo and Dick were busy filling shelves and catching up with administration. All the tables in the café were taken but nobody needed serving, so Dick decided that he could put it off no longer. He would speak to his wife about what was on his mind.

  ‘The thing is, Flo, something has come up that I need to talk to you about,’ he began.

  ‘Yes, dear,’ she said absently, checking the paperwork related to a cigarette order from the wholesaler.

  ‘With all the talk of war that’s around at the moment, there is work for skilled men at the docks,’ he said. ‘They are building and repairing ships and they need men like me.’

  She paused in what she was doing and looked at him. ‘I’m glad there are jobs about, dear, but it doesn’t affect you because you work here,’ she said.

  ‘Mm.’ He scratched his head worriedly. ‘Look, I know how much this place means to you, and us working here together, and I enjoy it too. But you are the heart and soul of the Pavilion and—’

  ‘What are you trying to tell me, Dick?’

  ‘Thanks to you, I was saved from the misery of unemployment, but the truth is, I miss my trade, Flo,’ he blurted out. ‘I want to go back to it.’

  ‘But I need you here.’

  ‘You could employ someone to take my place and pay them what the business pays me,’ he suggested. ‘I’ll be earning good money down the docks, so we’ll be better off financially.’

  She gave him a studious look. ‘You’ve already looked into it, haven’t you?’ she guessed.

  He nodded, looking sheepish. ‘Some blokes down the pub were talking about it, so I called in at the Labour Exchange to find out about it.’

  ‘Mm, well I can’t say I’m not disappointed, because we’ve built this business together.’

  ‘No, Flo, you built it and I helped,’ he corrected. ‘And you’ve done a really good job.’

  ‘Well, the idea of working with a stranger doesn’t appeal to me at all, but I won’t hold you back, Dick,’ she told him. ‘If you could give me time to find someone suitable, then you can go and see about getting back into your trade with my blessing.’

  He gave her an affectionate hug, then they went back to what they were doing, both lost in their own thoughts.

  May was so full of her dismal experience at Bright Brothers that evening, her parents didn’t have a chance to tell her their own news for a while.

  ‘People are so misinformed,’ she said, having recounted the experience. ‘But I am not going to give up. I shall keep my eye on the local paper, and if I continue to get turned down, I shall make a complaint at the Labour Exchange.’

  Flo and Dick listened sympathetically, making encouraging comments, then eventually told her of their plans.

  ‘Blimey,’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s a shock. You’ll be very much missed at the Pavilion, Dad. The customers really like you.’

  ‘Maybe they do,’ he said. ‘But I can help out on a Saturday afternoon to keep in touch.’

  ‘So you’ll have to find a replacement for him then, Mum,’ May remarked.

  Flo nodded. ‘I shall put an advert in the Gazette as soon as I can,’ she said.

  An odd silence fell as they were all struck by the same thought.

  May spoke up quickly before the idea had time to develop. ‘As much as I would like to take Dad’s place at the Pavilion, it would be too easy for me. I have to prove that I can get a job outside of the family,’ she told them. ‘It’s really important to me.’

  ‘Of course, love,’ said Flo, obviously disappointed. ‘I can understand that.’

  ‘I can help out, though, while I’m waiting to get fixed up, if you would like,’ she offered.

  ‘I would love that,’ Flo enthused. ‘We’ll pay you a proper wage, of course.’

  ‘The only thing is, you might lose customers when people see me there, given the lack of knowledge among the public in general over TB.’

  ‘They’ll get used to it,’ said her mother, ‘and anyway, I’ll take a chance on it.’

  ‘I’ll still be applying for other jobs, though, Mum, so it won’t be a permanent arrangement.’ May thought it wise to mention the fact. ‘A family job will be lovely but I still have something to prove. I can’t give up without a fight.’

  ‘Of course not, dear,’ Flo agreed.

  ‘So can I go ahead and get myself fixed up with
work at the docks, then?’ said Dick.

  ‘Yeah, I should think so, Dad,’ said May. ‘It will probably take me quite a while to get a job. If my experience so far is anything to go by, I doubt I’ll be inundated with offers.’

  ‘Employers’ stupidity is our gain,’ said Flo, who was delighted at the prospect of working with her daughter. She wanted her to find employment independently, of course, but she would enjoy having her around in the meantime.

  Working at the Pavilion was a joy for May. She had helped out at odd times before so knew the ropes, and there was such a warm and friendly atmosphere. She had a few disapproving looks at first, but when people realised that nothing awful happened to them as a result of being in contact with her, they relaxed and accepted her.

  Because she wanted to do the job as well as her father had, she even volunteered to take her turn rising early to prepare the newspapers for the rounds. When her mother suggested that it might be too much for her, May reminded her that that was exactly the sort of attitude she was fighting against.

  She continued to apply for jobs. When she had no success, she decided that she had to do something more about it than just fuming inwardly.

  ‘Our job is to supply candidates to employers who need staff,’ said the male clerk at the Labour Exchange, a dark and dismal place mostly inhabited by men. ‘We can’t force them to take anybody on. That’s their choice. So I’m afraid there isn’t anything we can do about your problem, Miss Stubbs.’

  ‘But not only is it unfair, it’s also very silly not to take on a fit person just because they’ve been ill in the past,’ she told him, having already explained about the prejudice she was experiencing.

  A middle-aged man with greased hair and a bored expression, he emitted an irritated sigh. ‘I can’t be held responsible for the attitude of employers,’ he told her. ‘They pay the wages so that entitles them to hire whoever they want.’

  ‘Maybe I shouldn’t mention my illness to them,’ she suggested heatedly. ‘After all, I am only looking for a job as a shop assistant, not the position of managing director.’

  He shrugged his shoulders disinterestedly.

  ‘But I would feel dishonest if I didn’t say anything about it,’ she continued, trying not to be destroyed by his attitude. ‘Anyway, illness is nothing to be ashamed of.’

  ‘Indeed not,’ he confirmed in an even tone. ‘But as I have said, there is nothing I can do about it.’

  ‘What do you suggest I do, then?’

  ‘Keep trying, I suppose,’ he advised her.

  ‘That isn’t very helpful.’

  ‘Look, I can’t change the way things are,’ he said, his temper rising. ‘I just work here. I don’t make the rules.’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Anyway, as I have said, we have nothing suitable for you at the moment, and there are a lot of people waiting to see me. So if you don’t mind . . .’

  Angry and disheartened, she left. As she walked home in the cold and bright February weather, she became calmer, noticing some early signs of spring in green shoots in the front gardens and grass verges. She reminded herself that she had much to be grateful for. She had come through a terrible ordeal and was now healthy. That was worth everything and a lot more than many consumption victims had to look forward to. Because of her illness she had grown as a person, she was certain of that. She took nothing for granted now and appreciated her parents’ support more than ever.

  She also had a job she enjoyed, working with her mother. Yes, she did still have a point to make for herself and others like her, and she would make it in any way she could in the course of her daily life, because there were plenty of misinformed people about wherever you were. Hopefully one day she would win on the question of prejudice in the workplace, but in the meantime she had other plans. She quickened her step, eager to get back to the Pavilion.

  There was a queue in the shop when she arrived, so she slipped behind the counter beside her mother to help speed things up.

  ‘You can stop worrying about working with a stranger, because you won’t have to,’ she said to Flo when things had quietened down. ‘I’m staying here on a permanent basis.’

  Her mother’s smile warmed May’s heart and she knew that she had made the right decision.

  ‘Oh May, I’m so pleased.’

  ‘Me too, Mum,’ she said. ‘Me too.’

  One of the benefits of having been seriously ill was the enhanced appreciation of everything when you were better. Senses were sharper; emotions stronger. Food had more flavour, the first smell of spring was so intense it brought tears to May’s eyes and the freedom to walk among people was something she would value for the rest of her life.

  The love of fresh air she had inherited from the treatment had stayed with her, and she got her bike out of the shed and began to ride it again, reminded of how much she had enjoyed it in the past. Of course, her former cycling companion George was no longer available; visiting her when she was ill was one thing, a cycle ride when she was better quite another for a married man, and Betty would have every right to be peeved. But she was happy to go alone and even went as far as Runnymede one Sunday afternoon and had a picnic by the river. The March weather was still quite chilly, but she wrapped up well and enjoyed herself.

  A new pleasure for May was baby Joe, who was now a year old, the image of his father and the cutest little boy May had ever seen. She’d fallen for him as soon as she’d set eyes on him last year after she and Betty had got together again. Most Wednesday afternoons, when the Pavilion was closed, she spent time with Betty and Joe. Sometimes they went to the park, other times they stayed at home, depending on the weather and usually at the Stubbses’ as a change of scene for Betty, who still often felt confined by motherhood. But wherever they were, May always spent most of her time amusing Joe.

  ‘I didn’t know you were so good with children,’ Betty remarked one day.

  ‘Neither did I till this little sweetie came into my life,’ May told her. ‘And he really is special.’

  ‘You’re marvellous with him.’

  ‘Glad you’re pleased.’

  ‘We’ve decided on the Easter weekend for the christening, by the way,’ Betty mentioned.

  ‘That will be nice.’

  ‘As his godmother, you’ll be a sort of a relation to him,’ Betty pointed out.

  ‘I suppose I will in a way,’ said May happily. ‘And I just can’t wait.’

  One day in March, people coming to the Pavilion for their daily newspaper were shocked by the headlines, and the café resounded with voices discussing the news that Hitler and his army had marched into Prague.

  ‘What a shocking thing,’ said someone.

  ‘Hitler wants stopping,’ said another.

  ‘He won’t give up without a fight.’

  ‘And that really will mean war.’

  ‘Surely it won’t come to that,’ said one hopeful. ‘The government won’t let it go that far.’

  ‘Let’s hope not,’ said May, moving through the tables with a tray to clear some crockery.

  ‘I dunno,’ said one doom-monger. ‘They let it happen in nineteen fourteen.’

  ‘The war to end all wars, they said.’

  ‘They didn’t reckon with Hitler when they said that.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘There’s nothing us ordinary people can do about it and that’s for sure.’

  Having had so much to cope with in her own life, May hadn’t paid a great deal of attention to the possibility of war. But things did seem to be getting serious now, which was rather frightening. As the idea of their country at war was so unimaginable, she dismissed it from her mind and concentrated on what she should get as a christening present for Joe. Definitely something that could be kept for him for later on, and probably something silver.

  Standing at the font, struggling to hold a wriggling, snivelling little boy, May was very proud of her new responsibilities, even if Joe was being an absolute monst
er. He struggled noisily to get down throughout the part of the service when she was required to make solemn promises as laid down by the church.

  Finally the vicar managed to splash the holy water on to Joe’s head and the whole thing was over. ‘Well he wasn’t exactly an angel in the church, was he?’ George remarked when they were back at the house for the christening tea. He picked his son up and kissed him. ‘In fact you were a proper little horror, Joe Bailey. All that screaming and shouting. It’s a wonder your Auntie May didn’t decide to resign from the job.’

  ‘It would take a lot more than that to put me off,’ May told him.

  ‘It’s best to get kids christened when they are little and don’t know what’s going on, I reckon,’ suggested George’s mother.

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed one of his aunts. ‘Once they can walk, it’s only natural they want to run about and make a noise.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have been able to be his godmother if they’d had the christening when he was very little,’ May pointed out.

  ‘There is that,’ agreed Dot.

  ‘I’m so touched that you chose me, both of you,’ May said impulsively to Betty and George. ‘Thank you for waiting until I was better to have the christening.’

  In actual fact the late christening was down to laziness on Betty’s part. She hadn’t wanted the bother of organising it and May had been the last person on her mind. But when she’d seen her again and had wanted to get back into her favour, the godmother idea had been the perfect tactic. As it happened, she was very glad now with the way things had turned out, because there was no one else but May she would want for the job.

  ‘What else would we do but wait for you?’ she said. ‘You’re our dearest friend.’ She looked at her husband, who was wise to her deviousness, warning him not to let the cat out of the bag. ‘Isn’t that right, George?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he confirmed. He took the view that the end result had been perfect, with May having a part in Joe’s life, and he had no intention of hurting her by telling her the truth.