Can Dreams Come True?

by Oliver, Marina

  Soon he turned northwest, on the last leg home. He realised he had thought very little of the two airmen whose race route he was following, and abandoned the last of their stops, turning due west for Walsall. That way he flew over Sutton Park, where some of the children playing near the pools waved to him. In the distance on his left he could see the large buildings of Oscott College, a seminary for Roman Catholic priests. Nearby were the sprawling newly-built estates of Kingstanding, which the City Council had built in an effort to provide better housing for Birmingham's slum-dwellers. Finally he passed round Barr Beacon, from where, he'd heard, one could on a clear day see several English counties and some as far away as Wales.

  He landed and went into the Club House for a drink, and stayed chatting to some of the other members.

  'How do you find it here?' someone asked Mrs Patterson, and the talk turned to flying lessons.

  Gabrielle Patterson, Robert remembered, had been appointed as the Club's Instructor six months before. He wondered whether men were prepared to be taught by a woman, but on the other hand, many women were learning to fly, and they might prefer a woman teacher.

  He lingered, unwilling to go home, and in need of distraction to take his mind off thoughts of Kate. To think of her caused nothing but frustration. In the end he accepted an invitation to join some of the others at the George Hotel, in the centre of Walsall, for dinner.

  Even that didn't serve, and as he drove home in the dark Robert wondered whether there was any point in advertising in the local newspapers. He'd done everything else. Daphne didn't know where Kate was, neither did the market people, nor the neighbours, and he had no other leads.

  He had to do something. His parents had commented on his lack of interest in anything, and his father had asked if he found the responsibility of setting up the Paris operation too much. At the very least he had to try and appear normal during the Christmas festivities.

  *

  Kate felt as if she was in a whirlwind, unable to think. She saw John every evening and he made sure she spent every free hour with him.They went to the cinema, and were able to see the newsreels. Kate had never before seen them, never had the money to go to the cinema. Once she had been taken to the theatre from school, but that was different, live people on the stage.

  'You enjoyed that?' John asked as they walked home.

  Kate nodded. 'It was wonderful!'

  'Then we'll go again at the end of the week when they've changed the programme.'

  This time they had a double seat in the back row, and John slid his arm round Kate's waist, so that she was distracted from the film.

  'Don't worry, my love,' he murmured.

  She relaxed. Other couples were sitting close together, and it was so warm and comforting to be held affectionately. She wasn't used to any close physical contact. No one had ever before given her such a feeling. When she'd been small Alf had often sat with her on his knees, but Hattie never had. And Hattie had usually found jobs for her or Alf to do, breaking up their closeness.

  When John bent over and began to drop gentle kisses on her cheek, she tried to draw away.

  'No, don't John! People will see!'

  He chuckled. 'What if they do? They don't know who we are, it's too dark to recognise people. Kate, you're so lovely, I want to be with you all the time.'

  Kate had sometimes, on the verge of sleeping, imagined Robert saying such things to her. She had never allowed herself to imagine kisses from Robert, though. That had seemed such an unlikely possibility, and she'd had no experience to build on, to know how these kisses might feel.

  John was rather like Robert, in his tall slimness, his educated accent, the way he knew so much.

  She glanced at the couple two seats away, who were entwined in a much closer embrace, and relaxed. This was how young people behaved, young people who loved one another.

  The thought had barely entered her mind when John pulled her close to him, this time kissing her on the lips, gently at first, and then with a demanding passion that made Kate feel warm and breathless, both a little frightened and exhilarated.

  She was flushed and bewildered when the film came to an end, glad they were at the back, and people could not look at her as they stood to sing the National Anthem. In the bustle of leaving afterwards, no one would notice her red cheeks, and the lips which she was sure had been bruised by the kisses.

  John didn't speak when they got outside, just put his arm round her waist, steering her across the road and along the pavement.

  'Kate, I love you,' he murmured into her hair when they reached the shop. 'What shall we do tomorrow? Go skating?'

  Kate tried to order her chaotic thoughts. 'Why, it's my birthday tomorrow,' she said, surprised.

  She might have a letter or even a card from Maggie. Daphne was the only one who had ever sent her a card the past few years. Hattie had said, when she was ten, that she was too old for such a fuss. Would Daphne remember, from Paris?

  'Really? Then we must celebrate. It will be a surprise,' John said. 'I'll be round as soon as the shop is closed and you've done the cashing up.'

  Kate watched eagerly for the postman every time he called the next day, but there were no letters for her. She swallowed her disappointment. Letters from Paris could take a long time to come, she told herself. Maggie was probably very busy, and had forgotten. But she did wish Maggie would write, answer her letters, let her know how they all did. It was lonely being so much on her own, without any news.

  When John arrived he presented her with a huge bouquet of hot-house flowers, and a bottle of champagne. 'We have to celebrate your birthday in style,' he said, kissing her. 'I'm taking you out for dinner, and dancing, then we'll drink the bubbly!'

  'Dancing? But I don't have a good frock,' Kate said, laughing.

  'That's no problem. The Mater said you were to choose one from the stock. Here, I have the keys, we'll go and find one.'

  'I can't do that!'

  'Nonsense! It's my shop, isn't it? Or will be, one day. And when I told the parents it was your birthday they said they wanted to give you a present.'

  'I can't just go and choose one of their frocks!'

  'Then we can't go dancing. Kate, look, if you really feel bad about it, just borrow the frock. My mother said you might feel embarrassed, so if you prefer you can just borrow it. We can put it back afterwards.'

  Kate still protested, but the idea of wearing, even for a single evening, one of the lovely gowns she sold to wealthy women, became too tempting to resist. And if Mrs Wilson had said she could, why should she worry?

  She found a frock she'd been secretly admiring for days, a pale apple green silk with a short, pleated skirt and a bolero embroidered at the edges with a dark green leaf pattern. John insisted she also borrowed a coat, for it was cold outside, and they would have to go on the bus.

  'I can't persuade my father to buy a motor car,' he apologised, 'and I don't earn enough to afford one yet. I want something better than a small Ford or something like that. But I have hopes. My boss will soon inherit an even bigger estate when his cousin, who is very ill, dies. He's promised me a good house and a big rise in salary when I take over the running of that, and then I can take you about in style.'

  Kate didn't mind. For the first time since that party where she'd met Robert she felt elegant, pretty, and admired. She thought wistfully about Robert, wondering where he was and what he was doing now. Then she insisted to herself that she must forget him. Now she had John's admiration, and he'd said he loved her.

  John took her to a small restaurant where they had a tiny dance floor. Kate had expected to go to somewhere like the Palais de Dance in Monument Road she'd heard the girls at school mention, but this, she felt sure, was much more exclusive.

  They dined on food Kate had never expected to taste, melon and steak and a delicious soufflé. In between courses they danced, and on that tiny, crowded floor, John held her tightly in his arms. Which, she thought, was a good thing, for they also had g
lass after glass of wine, and she was feeling very light-headed and rather unsteady.

  It was a disappointment to have to catch a bus back to Sutton. How much more fitting it would have been if she had been with Robert, wafted home in his Lagonda. But John was kind, a pleasant, attentive companion, and he had given her a wonderful birthday.

  She was almost asleep when they got off the bus, and rested her head on John's shoulder as they walked home. As she fumbled in the pocket of her borrowed coat for the key John laughed, took it from her, and opened the door.

  'You're tired, Kate. Let's get you upstairs. But I hope you've had a pleasant birthday.'

  'It's been wonderful,' Kate said, and knew she was not saying the words clearly. 'Wonderful,' she tried again.

  'Let me take the coat back into the shop,' John said when they got into her room.

  Kate dutifully slipped it off. 'I must return the dress too. I can't keep such an expensive frock.'

  'As you wish. Here, wrap this blanket round you, or you'll be cold.'

  He turned away and Kate slipped off the dress. By the time John came back she was almost asleep, curled up in an armchair.

  'You can't sleep yet,' John said. 'We have to toast you in the champagne.'

  Kate watched, smiling, as he wrestled with the cork, and jumped in alarm when it shot out of the bottle. The wine fizzed, and drops of it fell onto her face and neck. She didn't have wine glasses, so John poured the wine into two cups and held one out to her.

  'To Kate, happy birthday, darling.'

  She wrinkled her nose as she tasted it. She didn't really like it, but felt impolite if she didn't drink it. John laughed at her expression, and knelt beside her.

  'It's not so bad, and you'll get used to it when you're my wife. I shall feed you with caviare and champagne every day!'

  Kate laughed. 'I prefer a cup of tea! What do you mean, wife?' she asked, belatedly understanding the words.

  He began to lick the drops of wine from her face, and then tasted her lips. 'Mm, delicious!'

  'Careful,' Kate exclaimed, as the wine tilted from the cup John was holding. 'That's going on the blanket. Oh, it's cold, and it's on my leg!'

  'Never mind, it won't be wasted, I'll lick it off.'

  'No! No John, we mustn't! Don't touch me like that!'

  'Kate, darling, don't be frightened. We're going to be married, as soon as I get a better salary. Come, let me tuck you into bed. It's late, and you're so tired.'

  Kate didn't know what she felt. Her head was aching, the room was spinning around her, and her legs didn't seem capable of holding her when she tried to get out of the chair. John laughed, and as he swung her up in his arms to carry her over to the bed the blanket fell away. She shivered, but John scooped up the blanket, threw it over her, then lay down beside her, drawing up the blanket to cover them both.

  It was strange to feel his hands gently stroking her, but when she tried to push him away he held her hands and spoke softly, reassuring her that it was all right, they were going to be married, and he loved her so deeply and wanted her so much he couldn't stop now.

  His caresses grew more urgent, and Kate was beyond thought. Her body seemed to know how to respond, how to achieve the maximum delight in the sensations he was rousing in her. Vaguely she knew it was all wrong, they should not be here in bed together, naked. Naked? She could feel his skin hot against hers. How had that happened? Then she recalled his hands removing the rest of her clothing, and somehow he must have taken off his own. But he loved her, and no one else did. It was delightful, being held so closely and knowing that at last she had someone of her own.

  When he climbed on top of her and parted her legs she resisted for a moment, in sudden and astonished panic, but when he kissed and stroked her again she relaxed, unable to push him away even if she'd wanted to.

  Then there was a moment of pain, yet another strange sensation, and she almost cried out in alarm as John suddenly began to pound into her, panting urgently, and as suddenly became still.

  'Kate, you darling, that was wonderful,' he murmured, rolling away from her and leaving her feeling suddenly bereft. 'One day soon we can be together all the time.'

  ***

  Chapter 7

  After that John came every day. He always brought a bottle of wine or chocolates, luxuries Kate had never before been able to enjoy, or flowers, and when they did not go out they sat and listened to the wireless. Kate enjoyed being with him, listening to the wireless and behaving, she sometimes thought, laughing at herself, like a contented married couple. And like a married couple, they made love every night on her narrow bed. Sometimes Kate, remembering Maggie, protested, saying it was wrong, but John soothed her, promising that as soon as he obtained his promotion and had a good house to take her to, they would be married.

  Kate knew she was in love. If occasionally she imagined it was Robert in bed beside her, she told herself it was because John was so like him, and Robert was lost to her. Both men were tall, handsome, and kind to her. They'd been to the same school, had the same educated accents, and mixed with the same sort of people. Robert had been the only other man Kate had been out with, and she felt it was natural to remember him and compare them. If she occasionally felt that in small ways John was not so special, she suppressed the thought and told herself she was lucky to have attracted such a fine man as John.

  One Friday evening in December, their last few days together because John was due to return to work after the weekend, he arrived bringing a box of chocolates. She made some tea and they sat sipping it, idly listening to the wireless, when suddenly John sat up and listened intently. Kate, as soon as she realised what was happening, sat with her teacup clutched in both hands, scarcely able to believe what she was hearing.

  'Was that really the King?' she demanded when it was over. 'Not a play?'

  John seemed equally shocked. 'Yes, it must have been. There have been rumours, but not a great deal in the newspapers.'

  'He's abdicated? Abandoned the Throne? Kings don't do that! They can't!'

  'He just did. Thank goodness he has several brothers who can follow him.'

  'But why? Why can't he marry this woman he says he loves?'

  'Because she's been divorced twice. The English won't stand for that. But I admire him in a way, to have so strong a love.' He rose to his feet and pulled Kate up with him. 'I'd do the same, if it were necessary, Kate.'

  She was still so bemused by this dramatic event that she scarcely noticed John's arms tightening about her. When his lips touched hers, however, she gave a shuddering sigh.

  'Oh Kate, you're the girl I've been searching for all my life! And I find you back here at home. It's like a miracle.'

  They spent most of Sunday in bed, making love. Kate felt embarrassed at first, watching the winter sunlight streaming in through the windows, but John laughed at her.

  'Sweetheart, we're in love, and it will be weeks, a couple of months, before I can see you again. I need you, I want you so very much, I have to make love to you every opportunity I get!'

  On Monday Kate felt bereft, lethargic and once more alone. Why hadn't Maggie replied to her letters? She'd write again, perhaps mention John, though of course she would not tell her they'd been to bed together. Maggie would be shocked, warn her of all sorts of dangers. But John wasn't like her own unknown father who'd abandoned Maggie. He really loved her.

  In the days following King Edward's abdication and the accession of the new King George, Kate was glad of the wireless, able to follow events. It passed the time when she was on her own, lonely and missing John. And if, at times, she was unsure which face was in her thoughts, his or Robert's, she told herself she was being silly, a lovesick girl like those she and Daphne had laughed about at school. That time was so long ago, and Kate often thought it had been a dream.

  *

  For the first time ever Sam bought them all Christmas presents. Even Hattie was given a warm winter coat with fur-trimmed collar and cuffs.

 
; 'Where did you find the money for all these?' Maggie asked suspiciously when they were finally in bed on Christmas Day. Had Sam gone back to his old ways?

  'I did some overtime, fer a mate that owns a motor repair shop,' Sam said and reached over for her. 'Come 'ere, Maggie, give us a kiss.'

  'And never told me?' she demanded. 'When did you do this overtime?'

  'Evenings, Saturdays, when yer thought I was at the pub. I wanted ter give yer a nice surprise. Now, ain't yer going ter reward me?'

  'No, Sam, I'm tired.'

  'You'm always tired,' he grumbled. 'I warn yer, Maggie, I'll be finding meself a lady friend if you'm not more loving.'

  Would she really care, Maggie asked herself. There were so many things to worry about, even if their money was more plentiful than ever before. She was working so hard, and worried about Hattie, who persisted in wandering off at least once a week. Most of all she was concerned that she hadn't heard from Kate, despite the letters she had sent.

  'And with this overtime, yer can afford presents for them?' Maggie laughed. 'Just you dare, Sam Pritchard! But if you are earning a bit extra, I can afford ter go and see our Kate. I expected her to write for Christmas. I hope she's not ill.'

  'The lass would have let yer know, or her boss. I'll bet yer anything she's having such a good time, free at last from that devil yer Ma, that she don't 'ave time ter write.'

  'I'll write again termorrow, let her know I'm coming. Now let be, Sam, I'm whacked.'

  The next day was Saturday, and after dinner they took the children to play in the park. It was a rare family outing, and Maggie was selfishly glad Hattie had refused to join them.

  'I'll go out fer a walk later,' she said. 'An' I'll post that letter.'

  When they returned to the house Hattie was not there, and it wasn't until teatime, when it was dark outside, that Maggie began to fret.

  'She's gone off again!' she said. 'Sam, I don't know what ter do with her!'

  He groaned. 'Not again! Now I'll be expected ter go traipsing all over fetchin' the damned woman back!'