Shattered Dreams

by Vivienne Dockerty

  “Permission to speak, Sir?” Eddie addressed one of the officers.

  The officer gave a nod.

  “Which country would that be, Sir, I was born in England and this is my country?”

  “You will be sent to Ireland, Dockerty, you will finish your training there with the Irish Fusiliers. That is our decision and there is no right of appeal.”

  He was quick marched out of the school room, wondering as he did so what kind of looneys did they have in charge?

  A few days later he was in Ireland, but in a state of total collapse due to a high fever as his body fought against his inoculations. The sergeant took in the situation at a glance, dismissed Eddie’s escort, then put his new recruit to bed in his own quarters.

  Sergeant Mannion was a compassionate fellow who had served in the army since the First World War, though his men had to be brought up to the best standard of training, he treated them as human beings. Next morning Eddie was given a superb breakfast and began to feel he could face the world again.

  He did well in his training, he worked hard at being the smartest man in battle dress and the best at weapon drill, he was given special duties and made the ‘stick man’ for the day. When a soldier won this distinction he had to report to the office for any special messages or duties. Most days it was a mere formality and then he was free for the day.

  In his leisure time he went to help one of the local farmers, who found Eddie to be a capable and willing man who also loved working in the farmer’s fields.

  In all this time he had not been given any leave to go home to his family. Christmas had come and gone, Spring was nearly over, so in desperation, Eddie volunteered to go on a draft which was going over to England. When he arrived in Ringwood, Hampshire, feeling low from an infection that he had picked up on the way back over, he intended to ask for permission to go on leave.

  He decided to surprise Irene, thinking that a telegram coming out of the blue would cause her alarm at the sight of a telegraph boy. He was tired and very hungry when he got off the bus with his kitbag, so began to walk to his mother’s house where he could be sure of a plate of rib-sticking stew. His spirits lifted at the thought, as he walked along the leafy tree-lined Acorn Drive to reach his mother’s semi on the corner.

  “Eddie!” his mother cried with delight, as he walked unannounced into the kitchen where she was washing the plates from supper. “Why didn’t you say you were coming? Does Irene know, ’cos she didn’t tell me when I saw her this morning out with the child?”

  “I thought I’d surprise you all,” Eddie answered as his mother threw her arms around him and hugged him to her, like she had when he was a little boy.

  “Where’s Rosaleen and Sam? Have Terry and Mickey had any leave, or am I the first one home?”

  “Put your kit-bag in the hallway first and then I’ll bring you up with the news while you eat some dinner, Eddie. You look as thin as a rake, what’s the army been feeding you? Mind you, you’ve never had much weight on, not like our Caitlin. You should see her now. Come, sit here at the table, I must have known you were coming because as usual I made too much stew. I got so used to cooking for seven children and me and your father that it’s difficult to cook for just Rosaleen and Sam.”

  “How are you managing, Mum? I thought with all the rationing and the supply routes being knocked out by the Jerrys, that people were having it hard.”

  “Not when you live in the country, Eddie, not when there’s so many farms around and of course we’ve all turned our gardens over to growing veg. Did you not notice my cauli’s when you came up the side of the house?”

  “Well yes, I gave our gardens over to vegetables too before I went off to the War, I hope Irene’s been keeping on top of them while I’ve been away.”

  “Your wife seems to be busy with other things, Eddie, though it’s not my place to say. It’s a good job that Lily woman’s living there, she probably sees to the growing of things.”

  Eddie put down the spoon that he had been using to gulp down the mostly vegetable stew.

  “What kind of other things has Irene been doing?” he asked calmly, though his heart started beating madly as the import of his mother’s words began to sink in. He had heard from some of his mates stories of going home to find that the missis had been playing away from home, or a baby being expected that wasn’t his own.

  “Oh I’m sure she’ll tell you all about the job she has in the canteen in the village, serving the chaps from the barracks that they’ve built near Arrowe Park. Now don’t worry your head about anything, just finish off your meal and then I’ll tell you what the family are up to and I’ve also had a letter from the solicitor that I need to tell you about.”

  All the time that she was telling him that Rosaleen was going to join the landgirls if her application was successful, Sam was working for a local farmer while he waited to be old enough to fight in the War, Caitlin was expecting again and looked like a rain butt, Eddie was itching to get away and see what Irene had been up to. He hadn’t the heart though to rush off and leave his mother, she seemed to have aged ten years since J.C. had died and her hair had gone white, which it wasn’t before.

  “So when I got this letter from Willerby Brough I was so annoyed with your father, I felt like stamping on his grave.”

  “Have you got the letter, Mum?” he said, forcing himself to listen to his mother. “You’ll be pleased to know I can read now, the army taught me, within six weeks would you believe!”

  “You were always a clever boy, Eddie. It was wrong of your father not to have given you boys a good education like the girls got. What use is that to Caitlin and Sheena now they’ve got married? Though they’ve both made good marriages as you know.”

  “Mum, the letter, do you want me to read it or not?”

  “Oh yes, you’ll be wanting to get along to that wife and child of yours. Here it is, it says that your father was paying maintenance to that Alice who used to work for us.”

  “What!” Eddie exploded. “Did you know anything about this? What was he paying money to Alice for?”

  “Well, Eddie, you must be a man of the world now and know that maintenance payments are for the support of illegitimate children.”

  “You mean Father had a by-blow besides the seven children he had with you?”

  Gladys nodded bleakly. “I knew about the baby, Eddie, I sacked her when I found out she was expecting. She thought that your father would up sticks and go and live with her, but I knew J.C. a lot better than she did and he would never have left us for that little tart. He went on his knees to me and begged forgiveness and I thought that was the end of the matter, but it seems from the letter he’d been paying out for the child for all these years, and even now he’s dead she’s still expecting to be paid.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?” asked Eddie, feeling shocked at his mother’s revelation and wondering at her ability to have forgiven J.C.’s travesty.

  “I was going to forget about it. The child must be fourteen or fifteen now and old enough to be supporting himself.”

  “Himself? So we’ve got a half brother somewhere. Have you any idea where he and Alice are living?”

  “Now Eddie, I don’t want you rushing off trying to find them and giving Alice the length of your tongue. I do know where they are because when I was going through your father's papers, it appeared that there was a house in Queensferry that belonged to him. He obviously bought it for them to live in, probably he was under obligation or she might have blackmailed him.”

  “But that house belongs to you now, you can throw her out, sell it and with the sale of this one you could afford a far better place.”

  “I’ll have to think about it, Eddie. Obviously he didn’t disclose the house to the people who were dealing with the bankruptcy or he had put it in her name. Anyway, I’ve told only you and I don’t want the others hearing about it. I wanted you to know about the solicitor’s letter in case one day you’ll be seeing to my affai
rs.”

  “But what if they are in touch again?”

  “Oh I’ll tell them that there’s no money left and they can go to Hell.”

  Eddie walked along to his own house, his mind reeling with what his mother had said. The thought of Irene being unfaithful to him seemed a lesser problem after being told of the infidelity of his father. Well the sanctimonious old lecher, such a pillar of the community and he was having it off with his brothers’ nursemaid. How in heaven had his mother put up with it? She must be a saint.

  He stood at the top of his driveway surveying the garden. It was dusk by now, but through the gloom he could see neat rows of cabbages, the white flowers on the green foliage of the potato plants, he could smell the aroma of the onion sets and the pleasant whiff of mint as he brushed past their leaves. To the right of him grunted Sally the sow, as she settled herself comfortably on the straw of the pigsty, her litter lying in a row at the side of her, sated from a recent feed. The hens clucked contentedly from their perches in the wooden coop, while the cockerel glared at Eddie when he had a look through the netting.

  Eddie strode round to the wash house, taking off his army boots and leaving them by the door. There was no sound coming from the kitchen, and of course there were no lights visible from the windows, as the blackout curtains were drawn across each one.

  He knocked on the kitchen door impatiently; surely Irene must be in there? It was growing late and she wouldn’t leave young Gina alone.

  “Just a minute,” someone shouted.

  Eddie groaned. He knew that voice, it was Lily, his mother-in-law.

  “Oh, Eddie, you’re back then,” Lily said in a surprised voice, as she spoke to him through the window of the door, seemingly not in a hurry to let him in. “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming? Irene would have stayed at home.”

  “Open the door will you,” Eddie growled. “I’m not standing here on my own doorstep conducting a conversation with you.”

  “Sorry I’m sure,” replied Lily testily. “It’s because my fingers are having trouble with these fancy locks and knobs.”

  She eventually managed to get the door open and started to explain that Irene had got a neighbour to put a bolt and an extra lock on to deter a German from breaking in.

  “Don’t be so daft woman, if a German wanted to get in here he’d smash the glass with a bayonet. Well, where is she then and is Gina tucked up in bed?”

  “That’s where I was when you started your knocking,” said Lily in an irritated voice. “The poor mite’s scared stiff at the moment. She only has to hear a plane going over and she starts trembling. I’ve given her a bottle of milk to settle her down.”

  “I’ll go and see her.”

  Eddie pushed his way past Lily and made for the bottom of the stairs.

  “Don’t be so stupid, man,” cried Lily, rushing after him to grasp a handful of his jacket. “She hasn’t seen you for months, how do you think she’ll feel if she sees a strange man in uniform?”

  He stopped in his tracks, then slunk into the living room. He sat himself down on the sofa and put his head in his hands.

  “I didn’t think of that, God what are these bloody Jerry’s doing to people with families. I’ve waited for months to see Gina and you’re right, she’ll probably not even know who I am.”

  “Can I get you a cup of tea?” said Lily sympathetically, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You must be tired from your journey. Where was it, Chesterfield you were stationed at?”

  “No, I’m based in Hampshire now, though I was in Ireland before that. Hasn’t Irene been keeping you up to date with my manoeuvres then?”

  “I don’t think she knew where you were stationed, Eddie, the last she heard you were at the training camp. She was saying only the other day that she hadn’t heard from you. She didn’t know where to write neither, I think she was going to contact your regiment headquarters to see where you were.”

  “Oh, I’m not even with the same regiment now, I got transferred to the Irish Fusiliers ’cause my name’s Dockerty. I was ill for a while, got some damned infection or something. Still I’m back in England now and managed to get a bit of leave. Anyway, where is she? Has she gone up with Gina and had an early night?”

  Lily coloured slightly and said that she’d just go and get his tea. She seemed nervous when she returned with a cup and saucer and her hand was shaking as she passed Eddie his tea.

  “The thing is, Eddie, with her not being able to keep in touch and you not being around, she decided to go and help out at the canteen in the village. It was set up as you know to give somewhere for the service personnel to relax at the end of the day and get a decent meal.”

  “I know that,” Eddie cut her short. “I helped set the place up, I was the M.C. at the dances before I got my call up papers, but I told Irene that I didn’t want her working. One of Gina’s parents has to be here in her life to give her stability.”

  “It’s only voluntary work. Eddie, she’s not getting paid for it and I’m here to look after Gina anyway.”

  “Well what’s Irene doing out at this time if she’s just helping out with the cooking and things? Don’t tell me she’s attending the dances as well.”

  “There’s a lot of clearing up to be done...”

  Eddie stood up, feeling the rage inside him surging through his body, as it had once before that evening.

  “I’ll go and meet her, I’ll see for myself what she’s up to. She knows darn well she should be here looking after our child.”

  Lily heard him slamming out of the back door nearly putting the window in, then listened at the foot of the stairs for the sound of her grandchild’s wail.

  Eddie walked swiftly along the main road towards the village. His heart was thumping angrily. She should have been there, his wife should have been there for him when he came home on leave, not enjoying herself with other men, while he was away fighting a war.

  “Come on now, Eddie,” spoke his voice of reason. “Irene would never be unfaithful, sure she loves you and would never be underhand.”

  He skirted the old gnarled trees of Harrock’s Wood, where owls hooted eerily and the rustlings from the bushes made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Irene had to pass here, suppose someone jumped out and dragged her in? His vivid imagination began to make his stomach crawl. His beautiful Irene, he wanted this damned war to be over so he could love her, protect her, not have her frightened by the thought of Germans bashing in her door. He’d calm himself down, look forward to her delighted surprise when he walked through the door of the village hall, he’d take her home and make love to her, pretend that there was just the two of them in the world.

  Eddie took some deep breaths to settle his laboured breathing and began to walk slowly up the hill.

  From the top of the hill came excited, clamouring voices, men’s voice, foreign voices, as Eddie found out, as they came towards him. A shambling group of French men appeared out of the gloom. Some wore unbuttoned navy jackets with ill matching trousers, while others had open-necked shirts on and the bottoms of their navy blue uniform. Most were drunk or were close to it and lurched towards Eddie as he stood in their way.

  “Ah, good evening Tommy,” said one in a friendly fashion “Sa va, comment allez vous?”

  “Piss off, Froggies,” replied Eddie. “Get back to your own country and defend it without coming over here and sitting out the war.”

  “Pardonez moi, could you repeat what you have just said?” the soldier said slowly, but menacingly in a heavily foreign accent. The others stopped in their tracks when they heard the threatening timbre of his words. What had this Englishman been saying to them?

  “I said nice to meet you all, won’t it be good when you can all go back to your own country?”

  “Oui, tres bien, bon nuit,” came the reply and the French men ambled off again.

  Eddie heaved a sigh of relief, that was a close call. He hadn’t realised that French people could understand Engl
ish, the only French that he knew was “oui, oui!”

  Thoroughly shaken by his encounter he loped off thinking how rude he had been, but he reasoned, as he approached the opening that lead down the short lane to the village hall, that if the French hadn’t capitulated to the Germans, he wouldn’t be trying to track his wife down, she’d be sat at home by the living room fire.

  At the top of the lane Eddie heard more French being spoken, along with a woman’s voice who was speaking English in reply. He ducked behind some bushes as the woman’s voice sounded familiar. If it was Irene he’d swing for her, he wasn’t going to let her dally with another man. To his horror he saw it was Irene, but if this was her boyfriend they didn’t look as if they were having a fling.

  He listened to the happy lilt in her voice as the pair past him by, thanking the man beside her for taking the trouble to walk her home.

  “It’s those woods at the bottom of the hill, Pierre, I always feel spooky when I pass them in the dark. I know there’s no need to worry, if my husband was here I’m sure he’d be here to hold my hand.”

  The Frenchman replied to her in his own language and Irene nodded her head. It was then that he remembered that his wife could understand French very well.

  He began to feel a fool then, Irene would be overjoyed to be able to use the language that she’d been taught in the convent school. What a suspicious fool he was. He kept to the shadows behind them, as the pair walked slowly down the main road, pretending that he was on night manoeuvres so that they wouldn’t hear any noise.

  At the end of Whaley Lane, the Frenchman took Irene’s hand and kissed the back of it, then he saluted smartly and waited until she disappeared into her home. Eddie ducked down behind the bus shelter and watched until the man was out of sight. Now he had to think up a convincing tale of how he had missed Irene on his way to meet her from work. Something about a short cut would satisfy her, yes a short cut on his way to meet her across the farmer’s fields.