A Distant Dream

by Pamela Evans

  ‘Just watch me,’ challenged May rashly. ‘After today, you needn’t bother coming round again, because I won’t want to see you. You’ve gone too far this time.’

  ‘May, please,’ Betty begged.

  ‘I’m going back to the house now,’ May declared. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

  ‘I need you, May.’

  ‘I needed you when I was ill but you were too busy looking after yourself to bother about me.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s too late for that,’ she said, and turned and marched back up the street, leaving an astounded Betty looking after her.

  Of course May had known she wouldn’t be able to keep to her threat, because her sense of duty towards the friendship was too strong. So the next morning when Betty came to collect Joe, who had stayed the night as he’d been sleeping when the others had left, she said, ‘Let’s take him over to the swings, shall we?’

  ‘Yeah, he’d like that,’ said Betty with a hopeful smile.

  As soon as Joe was settled on a swing and out of earshot, May said, ‘So what are you going to do? Will you write and tell George to warn him of the situation before he comes home?’

  ‘I can’t have the baby, May,’ Betty told her.

  ‘Oh . . . well what does the father have to say about it?’

  ‘He doesn’t want any part of it,’ she explained. ‘He’s given me some money to get it attended to and I won’t see him again because he’s being posted, or that’s what he says. He couldn’t get away from me quick enough once I’d told him.’

  So that was it. Betty hadn’t been bothered about staying home on Wednesday evenings recently because her boyfriend had cooled off and she was in trouble. It was surprising she’d waited this long to tell May; perhaps it had taken her a while to pluck up the courage.

  ‘So you don’t even have an address for him.’

  Betty shook her head. ‘We didn’t get around to exchanging personal details. I know he was stationed somewhere just outside London temporarily and that’s about it.’

  May sighed in frustration at her friend’s careless attitude. ‘A complete stranger, then,’ she said.

  Betty made a face. ‘I suppose you could say that, but it didn’t seem like it because I used to see him every Wednesday,’ she explained.

  ‘But you know nothing about him.’

  ‘I know he’s a good dancer and a handsome fella and that was all I needed to know,’ she said. ‘It was just a bit of fun, May, an adventure.’

  ‘Not much fun now, though, is it?’

  ‘No it blinkin’ well isn’t,’ Betty confirmed. ‘But it’ll be all right once I get it sorted. No one need know except you and me.’

  May went back to the swing with Joe on it and pushed it, thinking how her friend sailed through life in pursuit of her own pleasure, never seeming to think seriously about anything. ‘Betty, you can’t do that,’ she said. ‘It’s illegal as well as barbaric.’

  ‘What choice do I have?’ she asked. ‘I can’t have another bloke’s kid running around when George comes home, can I? Besides, there’s his mum and Sheila to think about. They would throw me out and Joe and I would have nowhere to go. My own family turned their backs on me when I got pregnant the first time. Can you imagine what they’d be like if they knew I was in the family way again with a baby that isn’t my husband’s?’

  ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  ‘So I shall have to get rid.’

  ‘But how? Who do we know who does anything like that?’

  ‘We don’t, but one of the young mums I know got pregnant too soon after the first and she got it seen to. I’ll ask her.’

  ‘Oh well, it’s your life, your decision, I suppose,’ said May worriedly. ‘I’ll stay out of it and keep my opinions to myself.’

  ‘The thing is, May,’ Betty began in the wheedling tone she used when she wanted something, ‘I wondered if you would consider going with me if I can get it arranged. I don’t want to go on my own.’

  May emitted an eloquent sigh. She hated what Betty had done and was about to do, but whatever her faults, she was a friend and needed her support. May couldn’t turn her back on her.

  ‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘As much as I hate the whole thing, I’ll go with you.’

  It was a bitter January night as May and Betty waited in the queue for the trolley bus back to Ealing from Acton. May’s mother, who was looking after Joe, had been told that they were going to see an old school friend who hadn’t been well. The deceit upset May terribly, but she had to go along with it for her mother’s sake as well as Betty’s. Mum would be horrified to know the true purpose of their outing.

  Her friend was standing beside her shivering and weeping. It had been a very traumatic experience for her. It was strange how such an ordinary house in an unremarkable street could be doing a roaring trade in illegal practices. May had expected it to be in a sleazy area, but it was respectable and normal just like the street she lived in. Even the woman seemed like any other middle-aged mother in an apron and carpet slippers. The only clue to anything untoward was in her furtiveness. She looked up and down the street before ushering them inside when they arrived, and when they left she asked for complete secrecy about their visit. May had sat on a hard wooden chair in the hall while a petrified Betty was taken upstairs.

  Now May put her arm around her. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked in a warm tone.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ Betty sniffed. ‘I’m glad it’s over but I hope I get home before things start to happen. She said it will be all over by the morning. I’ve got a terrible stomach ache now, so it’s probably the beginnings.’

  ‘The bus will be along in a minute,’ said May encouragingly. ‘We’ll soon be home.’

  But she hadn’t reckoned with the Luftwaffe. The wail of the siren echoed into the night, sending people heading for shelter. May followed them, dragging Betty with her.

  ‘I’d sooner wait for the bus,’ said Betty, pulling back. ‘The raid probably won’t come anywhere near here anyway. You know how they sound the siren for miles around.’

  ‘They wouldn’t have sounded it in this area if it wasn’t fairly near,’ said May.

  ‘You can go for cover,’ said Betty. ‘I’m staying here. I’ve got to get home.’

  ‘We’ll go home after the all-clear,’ said May.

  ‘I can’t wait, May,’ said Betty, bending over and holding her stomach. ‘The pain is getting really bad.’

  ‘Hang on to me,’ said May, half carrying her towards the other side of the street where the shelter was, the roar of the enemy planes becoming louder. ‘We’ll have to get to the shelter. It’s only a bit further.’

  ‘I can’t get there, May.’

  ‘Lie flat on the ground on your tummy then,’ said May urgently as the planes came ever nearer. ‘That’s what we’re supposed to do if we can’t reach a shelter.’

  ‘Don’t leave me,’ said Betty feebly as she got down on to the ground.

  ‘Of course I won’t leave you,’ May assured her. ‘But I wish you would come to the shelter.’

  ‘Stop going on about the flamin’ shelter,’ shrieked Betty. ‘I’m in terrible pain here. I want to go home. I don’t want to lose my baby here in the street.’

  ‘When the all-clear has sounded we’ll find somewhere to go if you don’t think you can make it home. We might be able to find a church,’ said May, now prostrate on her stomach on the pavement, almost too worried about Betty to care about the deafening explosions which shook the ground.

  ‘Oh, my luck is in,’ said Betty. ‘The bus is coming.’

  ‘Betty, no . . .’

  ‘If the driver has got the guts to drive his bus through an air raid, I’m damned sure I’m brave enough to get on it,’ she said, scrambling to her feet and running towards the bus stop.

  May got up and went after her. As the trolley bus approached the stop, she heard the terrifying whistle of a bomb, which sounded as if it was heading st
raight for them.

  ‘I hope May and Betty are all right,’ said Flo as she and Dick settled in the Anderson shelter with Joe. ‘I really hate it when May is out during a raid.’

  ‘She’s a sensible girl,’ he said. ‘She’ll take shelter. Where are they anyway?’

  ‘Over Acton way somewhere,’ replied Flo. ‘One of their friends from school moved there and they’ve gone to see her, apparently.’

  ‘They might not have a raid there,’ he suggested, hoping to ease Flo’s mind.

  ‘It isn’t far from here.’

  Joe stirred in his makeshift bed. ‘Mummy,’ he said, sounding fretful. ‘I want Mummy.’

  ‘Mummy will be back soon, love,’ said Flo, stroking his brow. ‘Shush now and go back to sleep.’

  But Joe had other ideas. He sat up and looked round. ‘Where’s Auntie May?’ he said, rubbing his eyes.

  ‘She’s out with Mummy. They’ll both be back soon,’ she said gently.

  ‘I want to see them,’ he said, his eyes filling with tears.

  ‘You can’t until they get back. Hey, how about I tell you a story?’

  ‘No story,’ he said, starting to cry loudly. ‘I want my Mummy . . . Mum-ee.’

  ‘Now come on, son,’ said Dick, trying to be firm and failing. ‘You’re not usually one to make a fuss.’

  ‘Course he isn’t,’ said Flo, trying to soothe him.

  ‘Oh Joe, mate,’ said Dick as the boy’s wailing filled the shelter. ‘Have a heart. That noise is hard on our eardrums.’

  But the child had worked himself up into such a state he couldn’t stop, and was sobbing with intermittent hiccups.

  ‘Unusual for him to carry on like this,’ remarked Flo. ‘He’s always been as good as gold before.’

  ‘It isn’t surprising he’s woken up with all the noise going on outside,’ said Dick.

  ‘Poor little thing,’ sympathised Flo. ‘Kiddies shouldn’t have to put up with wars, should they?’

  ‘No, love, they shouldn’t,’ her husband agreed.

  Together they tried to soothe him while the enemy planes dropped their lethal cargo all around, causing earth-shattering explosions.

  It all happened so fast, May was dazed. One minute she had been running after Betty, the next there was a terrific crash and she landed on the ground some distance away, grazing her knees and elbows.

  Scrambling to her feet, coughing, her nose and throat stinging from the smoke, she was aware of an eerie, suffocating silence. She could hardly see through the dust clouds, and the harsh, raw smell of dissolved brickwork made her nauseous. Eyes streaming, throat smarting, she stumbled through the debris in search of her friend. Suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of voices and screaming. She called Betty’s name, peering frantically through the smoke, and guessed that the shops near the bus stop must have been hit.

  Then she saw what looked like a bundle of clothes on the ground and her heart pumped horribly.

  ‘Betty,’ she called. ‘Betty, is that you?’

  There was a groan and May got down on her knees.

  ‘I’ve copped it good and proper,’ said Betty. May was shocked at the sight. In the dim light she could just make out an ugly wound on her head from which blood was gushing. ‘I’m bleeding at both ends. The bomb certainly speeded things up. It would probably have done the whole job and saved me paying that woman.’

  May was heartened by the fact that Betty had managed to hang on to her sense of humour. Surely it must mean that she wasn’t too badly injured if she had the savvy to make a joke.

  The sound of the planes receded into the distance and the welcome all-clear replaced it.

  ‘We need to get your head seen to,’ said May. ‘The rescue people will be here in a minute.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m gonna make it,’ said Betty, sounding weak suddenly.

  ‘Of course you are,’ encouraged May. ‘You just hang on and I’ll shout for help.’ She stood up and called at the top of her voice. ‘Help over here, help please!’

  Back on her knees on the ground, she cradled Betty’s head in her arms, trying to stop the flow of blood with her handkerchief.

  ‘I know I’ve always been a bit of a nightmare,’ Betty said, her strength seeming to fade. ‘Always wanting more than I’ve got. I never loved George as a wife should – we just made the best of a bad job ’cause I was pregnant – but I do love my boy Joe. Maybe I like to get away from him now and then to have some grown-up fun, but he means the world to me.’

  ‘I know, Betty, I know,’ May assured her. ‘Don’t talk, save your strength until the first-aid people get here.’

  ‘You will look out for my Joe if I don’t make it, won’t you, May?’ she said weakly.

  ‘Of course I will, but you’ll be here to look out for him yourself, so no more of that sort of talk,’ said May. She was trying her utmost to stay calm, but panic was beginning to rise, especially when blood started to trickle on to the ground near Betty’s legs. ‘Once they get your head stitched up you’ll be fine.’

  Hearing voices and managing to see further afield as the dust began to settle, she shouted again, ‘Help please, over here.’

  ‘Soon as we can,’ said a voice. ‘There are a lot of people hurt in this lot.’

  May concentrated on keeping Betty awake as she drifted in and out of consciousness, her head on May’s lap as she sat on the ground. ‘Come on, Betty. Don’t go to sleep on me.’

  ‘All right, stop bossing me about, May Stubbs,’ Betty said, opening her eyes. ‘You always have been a bossy cow.’

  May smiled through her tears. It was so good to hear her friend sounding normal. ‘I’ve always had to be, with you as my friend.’

  ‘Yeah, because I always get into a mess. This latest one being the worst of the lot.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that now,’ urged May. ‘You need to save your strength.’

  ‘Look out for Joe, May,’ said Betty.

  The first-aid people arrived. ‘Thank God for that,’ said May with relief. ‘She’s bleeding heavily from a head wound. She must have been hit by flying debris.’

  ‘All right, love; you leave her to us,’ said one of the men.

  She was just wondering if she should mention the other source of the bleeding when Betty went limp and her head fell to one side.

  ‘No,’ May screamed. ‘Do something, please.’

  ‘Out of the way please, miss,’ said the man. ‘Let’s get her on a stretcher.’

  Trembling from head to toe, May got up and stood to one side while the first-aid man went down on his knees to Betty.

  ‘Sorry, miss,’ he said after a while. ‘She’s gone.’

  ‘She can’t have done,’ May said. ‘She was talking to me just now, making a joke.’

  ‘I really am very sorry,’ he said, as two men moved in with a stretcher. ‘We need to take her away to clear the area. I think you should go home now.’

  Having forcibly to stifle her rising hysteria, May watched as they covered Betty’s body and carried her away. This was the reality of war: people becoming objects to be moved off the streets along with all the other debris and rubbish. With tears streaming down her face, she started walking home. There would be no buses as the road was blocked by wreckage.

  It was as though a huge chunk of her life had been stripped away and she could barely take it in. Anger rose at these terrible things that kept happening; they seemed so unjust and pointless. But uppermost in her mind was Joe. With his mother dead, his father away at the war, maternal grandparents who had never acknowledged him and a paternal grandmother who couldn’t cope with young children, what was going to happen to him?

  He slept in her bed beside her that night while she lay awake grieving and worrying. Mum and Dad had been frantic when she’d eventually got home, quite late because it was a long walk. They’d been shocked at the news, of course, and had told her that Joe had been unusually difficult at around the time Betty had died.

  Pure coincidenc
e, of course, but May couldn’t help thinking that there would be more fretting to do for the poor little thing. But he would have her support through it all. Even if she hadn’t made the promise to Betty she would have looked out for him. She was his godmother and she adored him.

  Dot Bailey was visibly shaking after May told her the news.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ she said in a trembling voice. ‘She’d only gone to Acton to see an old friend, hadn’t she?’

  The deceit had outlived the perpetrator, thought May, as she said, ‘That’s right, Mrs Bailey.’ No one must ever know the real reason they were out last night. That was one secret that should be kept for the greater good.

  ‘Ooh, I shall have to make some tea and bugger the rationing,’ said the older woman, taking the kettle from the hob and filling it. ‘I feel shaky and weak from the shock. I expect you could do with one as well.’

  ‘Thank you.’ May waited until they were sitting at the kitchen table with their tea before broaching the subject. ‘Of course we shall have to decide what’s going to happen about Joe, won’t we, Mrs Bailey, with George being away,’ she said. ‘He’s with my mum at the shop at the moment. I thought it best to break the news to you while you were on your own.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, dear,’ she said nervously.

  ‘His other grandparents won’t want to know,’ May pointed out. ‘So I am quite happy to look after him at home with us until his dad gets back. Mum and I would do it between us as we both work.’

  Dot seemed a bit vague about this for a moment, stirring her tea and looking bewildered. Then she said, ‘Thank you for offering, dear, but I’m his grandmother and his place is here with me.’

  May was astonished and not at all happy with the idea. Dot was nervous and Joe was a boisterous little boy who needed a strong hand as well as love. ‘But I thought you found looking after him too much for you,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, I always have in the past,’ she confirmed. ‘But I shall have to toughen up now that he needs me, won’t I?’

  ‘Well, yes . . . if you think you’re up to it.’

  ‘You don’t think I can do it, do you?’

  ‘It isn’t that,’ said May. ‘It’s just that you’ve always said he’s too much for you, and Joe would sense any reluctance on your part and be upset.’