A Distant Dream

by Pamela Evans

  By the time they were back in the shelter, the aircraft could be heard loud and clear.

  ‘What, no tea?’ said Dick.

  ‘Sorry, we’ll try again later,’ said May. ‘There wasn’t enough time to make it.’

  ‘They’ve been having a kiss and a cuddle, I expect,’ said Flo, chuckling.

  ‘Mum, that is so embarrassing,’ objected May.

  ‘There are worse things in life than embarrassment, my girl,’ said Flo wisely.

  May took her point as they all waited with bated breath. The plane seemed to be directly overhead. There was a silence, then a loud crash before the plane moved away.

  ‘Phew,’ said May, puffing out her cheeks as she exhaled. ‘That was a close one.’

  They all started to laugh shakily, light hearted with relief. It seemed nothing short of a miracle that they were all still alive when the aircraft had sounded so close as to be almost on the roof. Sometimes after such incidents they would hear the next day that the bomb had actually dropped several miles away.

  ‘Maybe we can have that tea now,’ said May as the skies seemed quieter.

  ‘Get on and make it this time, and less of your courting,’ said her mother.

  ‘All right, Mum, don’t go on about it,’ said May, giggling. She always felt shaky and emotional after a near miss, and prone to inappropriate laughter.

  There were masses of people in the West End on Sunday afternoon and the queue for Gone With the Wind encircled the cinema in Leicester Square. There was bomb damage all around; parts of buildings reduced to rubble, dust floating in the air and plenty of official danger signs. But if this dampened the mood of the cinema-goers they certainly didn’t show it. They seemed to take the view that if they waited long enough, maybe they would get in to see the most talked-about film of the year, and they were determined to enjoy it, chatting to people around.

  May and Doug waited for two hours. When they finally sank into the plush seats, they revelled in the sheer escapism that Hollywood created so well. They didn’t manage the back row but held hands throughout the performance, the usual pall of cigarette smoke hanging over the auditorium. An air-raid warning flashed on to the screen, but only a few people left the building. The majority, including May and Doug, preferred to take their chances and stay. They hadn’t queued for so long to miss the film.

  ‘I feel almost human again,’ May said to Doug as they emerged from the cinema and walked towards the station arm in arm. ‘Being out doing something nice has really cheered me up. I can put up with the shelter tonight having had such a lovely treat.’

  ‘Yes, I thought it might cheer us up.’

  ‘Thanks for suggesting it.’

  ‘A pleasure,’ he said graciously. ‘I’m going to suggest something else now.’

  ‘Another outing?’

  ‘More serious than that.’

  ‘Another one of your surprises, eh?’ she said. ‘Out with it. Don’t keep me in suspense.’

  ‘I think we should get married right away,’ he declared. ‘Or as soon as possible.’

  ‘Well it’s a lovely idea, but nothing has been organised,’ she said, managing to stay realistic even though she was thrilled by the suggestion. ‘Weddings take time to arrange.’

  ‘The last thing I want to do is deprive you of your big day with a white dress and all the trimmings,’ he said. ‘But the way things are with the war, we have to live for the moment, and it’s more important to me to be your husband than to have a great big wedding reception, which wouldn’t be possible anyway now because of the shortages. We need to be together in these dangerous times, May, don’t you agree?’

  ‘Yes, of course, but it isn’t quite as easy as that,’ she said. ‘For one thing, where would we live?’

  ‘On the boat,’ he suggested. ‘Or if you feel that’s too dangerous, with Jerry making a beeline for the Thames and there being no underground shelter immediately accessible, maybe we could stay at your place temporarily, just until we find somewhere of our own. I sleep in the spare room several nights a week anyway, and I would insist on paying your parents rent of course, that would be only right and proper.’

  ‘So when did you have in mind for this wedding?’ she enquired.

  ‘Tomorrow wouldn’t be soon enough for me, but obviously we have to be realistic.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  He ushered her into the crowded station and dug into his pocket for their return tickets. ‘This is something we both have to want,’ he said. ‘If you would rather wait until a big do can be arranged, don’t be afraid to say.’

  ‘Naturally I would like some of the trimmings,’ she said. ‘The same as any girl would.’

  ‘I understand,’ he said.

  She looked at him, seeing the love in his eyes and feeling torn. The ominous wail of the siren sent crowds hurrying into the station as May and Doug headed for the platform.

  As the train rumbled noisily into the station, May turned to him. ‘Let’s do it, Doug,’ she said. ‘Provided Mum and Dad are happy, I’m all for it.’

  His beaming smile was all she needed to convince her that she had made the right decision.

  ‘Next week?’ said Betty in astonishment a few days later. ‘You’re getting married next week?’

  ‘That’s right,’ confirmed May. She had received her parents’ blessing and Doug had got a special licence.

  ‘Blimey,’ said Betty. ‘Are you up the spout, then?’

  ‘No I’m not,’ May said, raising her eyes in disapproval. ‘Trust you to come out with something like that.’

  ‘It’s usually the reason weddings happen suddenly.’

  ‘Not in this case,’ said May emphatically. ‘Anyway, lots of people are getting married quickly because of the war.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ Betty conceded.

  ‘It will be a very small do as it’s such short notice, and it will have to be registry office because there isn’t time to get a church.’

  ‘Not too small for me to be invited, I hope,’ said Betty. ‘My non-existent social life could do with a boost.’

  ‘Of course you’re invited,’ May assured her. ‘You and Joe and Dot and my friend Connie from Ashburn, and just close relatives apart from that. Doug’s parents will come if they can get there with the bombing and the train service being so badly disrupted. We’re having the reception at the Leopold Hotel and Doug and I will stay there for our first night,’ she said. ‘We’re going to close the Pavilion for the afternoon.’

  ‘First night in a hotel, eh?’ said Betty. ‘Very romantic.’

  ‘Yes, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’ll have to let me know what you’d like for a wedding present,’ said Betty.

  ‘I’ll think about that,’ said May excitedly. It wasn’t going to be the wedding of her dreams, but she was very thrilled indeed at the prospect of becoming Mrs Doug Sands.

  It was the night before the wedding and May had a pleasant gathering of butterflies in her stomach. Because it was bad luck for the bride to see the groom the night before the nuptials, Doug was staying on the boat tonight but meeting her father in a pub in Ealing for a few drinks as a kind of stag night. The few younger men of his acquaintance were away in the services so Dick was stepping into the breach to keep up with tradition.

  May and her mother were preparing to look their best for the big day. Both had washed their hair and taken it in turns to lie on the floor with their head by the fire to dry it. Now they both had their hair wound into curlers.

  ‘I’m off to meet Doug now,’ announced Dick, appearing in his outdoor clothes. ‘Make sure you both go down the shelter if you hear the siren.’

  ‘And you make sure that you go to the nearest shelter or into the pub cellar.’

  ‘Will do.’

  May was really hoping there wouldn’t be an air raid tonight. She wanted to get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow. There had been an occasional bomb-free night recently, so with a bit of luck it would be quiet.

&
nbsp; Her hopes were dashed when Moaning Minnie, as some people referred to the siren, went off while she and Flo were listening to Band Wagon on the wireless.

  ‘Here we go again,’ said May, putting on her coat and collecting her gas mask and all the other essentials that went with them to the shelter.

  When the siren was heard in the pub, some people left in a hurry; others stayed and carried on talking and drinking as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Dick and Doug were in the latter category, deciding to go to the shelter later if the bombing got too close.

  ‘I admit that I couldn’t decide what to make of you when May first brought you home,’ Dick was saying, the two of them standing at the bar with their beer. ‘But now that I’ve got to know you better, I’m as pleased as Punch to be having you as a son-in-law. With a bit of luck, you and I will have a good few nights out in the pub like this. It will be nice for me to have some male company in the family.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re pleased,’ said Doug, on his second pint and feeling nicely relaxed.

  ‘I’m outnumbered by two to one at the moment,’ said Dick with mock disapproval.

  ‘Glad to be making things a bit more equal for you,’ Doug responded.

  ‘Of course if we hadn’t lost Geoffrey,’ said Dick, becoming melancholy as the beer took effect, ‘he’d have been grown up by now, so we would have been mates.’

  ‘Yeah, that was very sad,’ said Doug sympathetically.

  ‘That’s probably why the missus and I dote on May so much,’ Dick went on chattily. ‘Not that we didn’t before, you understand, but when you’ve lost a child . . .’

  ‘Of course. I understand.’

  ‘Anyway, here we are, you and I, out having a drink together, as matey as can be,’ Dick went on. ‘But if you step out of line with my daughter, then you’ll soon find out that I’m not such a nice bloke after all.’

  ‘You won’t have any cause for complaint with me,’ said Doug, just about making himself heard above the noise outside; bangs, crashes and the reassuring rattle of anti-aircraft guns. ‘I won’t do anything to hurt May, I promise. But right now I think we should head for the shelter. It’s getting a bit naughty out there.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right,’ the other man agreed, emptying his glass with a few swift swallows.

  On their way to the door there was an almighty crash and the building crumbled around them. Ears ringing from the blast, Doug watched in horror as his future father-in-law disappeared beneath the rubble.

  There was dust and smoke everywhere and people screaming and crying. The smoke made it impossible for Doug to see more than a few feet around him but he knew roughly the spot where Dick had been buried.

  ‘It’s all right, Dick,’ he shouted. ‘I’ll get you out of there. Hang on, I’m coming.’

  But as he tried to move, he was rooted to the spot. Fear had him in its grip and he was paralysed. This was the most shameful moment of his life. A man he was about to be related to was in terrible danger and he was powerless to do a thing to help him. Now Doug really knew what cowardice felt like.

  ‘Where has your father got to, I wonder?’ said Flo later that evening. There’d been a lull in the bombing and she and May were back in the house. ‘Even if they had stayed until closing time he should be back by now.’

  ‘They’ve probably taken shelter somewhere and are waiting until things quieten down before they head for home,’ suggested May, hoping to ease her mother’s fears.

  ‘But things quietened down a while ago,’ her mother pointed out.

  ‘Mm, well they probably got talking, the way people do when they’ve had a few drinks.’

  ‘Your father has no business doing that and having me worried half to death.’

  ‘He’ll be here in a minute,’ said May hopefully.

  Just then they heard the key turn in the lock. ‘Thank Gawd for that,’ said Flo with relief.

  When the living room door opened, both women gasped as Dick came in, ashen faced, his head swathed in bandages, one arm in a sling.

  ‘Oh my Lord,’ said Flo, half crying as she went over to him. ‘Come and sit down. Are you badly hurt?’

  Together, Flo and May helped the quivering man into an armchair. It took a while before he was able to speak. ‘The pub took a hit and I got buried underneath the rubble. I thought my end had come,’ he told them shakily, ‘But Doug got me out; he crawled in and rescued me. The emergency services took a while to get there because they’d had so many calls in the area. What a hero! I owe my life to him.’

  ‘Is he all right, Dad?’ asked May.

  Her father stared at the floor.

  ‘Dick,’ put in Flo quickly. ‘What’s happened to Doug? Is he hurt?’

  Panic stricken, May said in a fast staccato tone, ‘Dad, what’s happened to him? For God’s sake, tell me.’

  ‘Sorry, love . . .’ Dick bowed his head, his shoulders trembling, tears streaming down his face.

  ‘What . . . You don’t mean . . . He can’t be . . .’

  ‘He got me out and the whole lot crashed down on him; he didn’t stand a chance. The rescue people did what they could but he was killed instantly. They reckon he wouldn’t have suffered,’ said Dick, his voice breaking. ‘If it wasn’t for me he’d be alive now. It should have been me. Not him. At least I’ve had a good few more years.’

  ‘That sort of talk won’t help,’ said Flo.

  ‘I’m very sorry, May,’ said her father thickly. ‘I shall regret what happened for the rest of my life.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Dick,’ said his wife. ‘That isn’t the way to look at it at all.’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’ May was so numb with shock, the awful news hadn’t registered properly, but she could vaguely comprehend that her father was suffering. ‘Doug would have loved the idea that he died a hero,’ she said through parched lips. ‘He hated the fact that he couldn’t join the services and do his bit.’

  ‘He’s done his bit good and proper now all right; did more than his bit for us,’ said Flo.

  The wail of the siren filled the room. ‘I’ll take my chances in the house for this one, if you don’t mind,’ said May as her parents prepared to leave. ‘I can’t face the shelter, not now. I’ll come down later if it gets too bad.’

  Her parents looked worried but she saw them exchange glances and knew they wouldn’t insist. Flo came over and put her arms around her. ‘I’m so sorry, love,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘I know it won’t be much comfort for you, but me and your dad will do what we can to help.’

  ‘I know you will, Mum,’ she said. ‘I know you will.’

  Breaking all the rules of safety and common sense, May went upstairs and got into bed, fully dressed, pulling the covers over her head while planes roared overhead and bombs fell. So instead of getting married tomorrow she would have a funeral to attend instead. She would need to let Doug’s parents know; they were his next of kin. She never did get to reach that status.

  It seemed unreal. Then she thought of Doug, that poor troubled man, dying in that bombed building without her by his side, and she wept, oblivious to the noise or the danger all around her.

  Chapter Ten

  Doug’s mother was a pleasant, softly spoken woman with a nervous smile and a look of defeat about her, his father was tall and white haired with a booming voice which he used unrestrainedly. They had arranged for the funeral to take place in Richmond because that was where Doug had lived.

  At the wake after the burial, which was held in a private room in a local pub, Mrs Sands told May how sorry she was that they had met in such sad circumstances, but that she was very glad Doug had found someone to love him.

  ‘Unfortunately our son was not an easy person to get along with,’ interrupted her husband loudly.

  ‘He must have got along with May, dear,’ his wife pointed out bravely. ‘Or she wouldn’t have agreed to marry him.’

  ‘Moodiness makes you bad company,’ put in Mr Sands as though his wife ha
dn’t spoken. ‘I was always telling him about it when he was growing up.’

  ‘You do know that your son died saving my father’s life, don’t you?’ said May, fiercely defensive of Doug because Mr Sands seemed to be so critical.

  ‘Yes, I am well aware of that, and very courageous it was too,’ he confirmed. ‘I was not suggesting that my son wasn’t a good man; just not an easy one.’

  ‘So you must be very proud of him for his bravery,’ said May pointedly.

  ‘Yes, yes, of course. I was always proud of him. He didn’t have to get himself killed to prove what a decent chap he was.’

  ‘You could have tried showing your pride in him when he was alive,’ said Mrs Sands, close to tears. ‘Maybe we might have seen more of him if you had.’

  Now May understood why Doug had gone to see his parents so rarely and hadn’t seemed keen for her to meet them. No one in their right mind would want to spend time with his father.

  ‘The train service has been all over the place because of the war, and you know how time flies by,’ she said. She felt rather sorry for Mrs Sands and wanted to give her some sort of comfort. ‘Doug probably meant to come to see you more often but just didn’t get around to it.’

  ‘Yes, I expect that was it,’ said Mrs Sands unconvincingly, probably finding it easier to agree because she didn’t want a full-blown quarrel with her husband at her son’s funeral. She sighed. ‘Anyway, it makes no difference now, does it?’

  Seeing how desperately sad the other woman was, May instinctively gave her a hug.

  ‘Thank you for that little show of affection, my dear,’ said Mrs Sands as May drew back. ‘I’m sure I would have very much enjoyed having you as my daughter-in-law.’

  May’s pain was hardly bearable at this reminder of how much she had lost. ‘Likewise, Mrs Sands,’ she said thickly.

  When May received a letter from a firm of solicitors in Richmond, a few days after the funeral, asking her to call at their office at her earliest opportunity, she was rather apprehensive. Solicitors didn’t normally feature in her life. But she did as they asked on her afternoon off.