Silver Linings

by Gray, Millie

  Johnny bowed his head and he had the grace to blush before saying, ‘She’s fine. It’s just that now that Robb’s are taking on women as apprentices …’

  ‘Are you that short of boys?’ Bobby chuckled.

  ‘Yeah we are. So Connie has decided to advance herself and she starts her apprenticeship tomorrow.’

  ‘Which trade is she going to train for?’ queried a derisory Jenny, who felt that life was changing too fast and women becoming tradesmen was further proof of that.

  ‘Plumbing!’

  ‘Plumbing, Dad?’ Kitty exclaimed. ‘But she likes to smell nice. What I mean is, she always smells like Jenners’ perfume counter, so how will she cope with … Oh no, it doesn’t bear thinking of!’

  When Kitty got into bed she firstly pushed Rosebud further over so that she could stretch herself out. Sleep should have come immediately but there was something bothering her about her father and Connie. As she tossed and turned she wondered why her dad was so eager to say that Connie hadn’t turned up at the party because she was going to be on early duty in the morning. Early starts had never stopped Connie in the past from being the life and soul of any get-together.

  Once Johnny, Jack and Davy were up and away to work the next morning, Kitty thought she would look in on Bobby to see if there was anything he needed. Or more importantly she couldn’t wait to hear the full and true story from him about how he had managed to get himself engaged to Harriet Wales, who in Kitty’s opinion was an intimidating and dominating Welsh lassie.

  Pushing open the door as quietly as she could, Kitty was dumbfounded to see that Bobby was up and about. She breathed in deeply and grimaced when she witnessed how difficult it was for him to get himself dressed.

  ‘Bobby, why are you out of bed? And what on earth are you doing?’

  ‘Firstly, who in our family has ever been for lying in bed? Secondly, and more importantly, I want to go out and speak to Mum.’

  ‘Mum?’ Kitty exclaimed. She was sure without suggesting it to him that he was suffering from some sort of delayed concussion.

  ‘What I mean is, I want to visit her grave and just speak to her.’

  Kitty gasped. Her eyes rolled.

  Bobby continued. ‘Try and understand,’ he explained, ‘that before I left to join the Merchant Navy I went to Seafield cemetery to speak to Mum and tell her what I was doing and why. But I couldn’t, because you were there blubbering and bawling like a bad-tempered baby.’

  Kitty snorted. ‘I go there to speak to Mum every week and tell her of any problems that I think she should know about. And if you must know, that day you saw me there I was just letting her know that you, who could have stayed in the shipyards as they are exempt employment, had decided to ignore Dad’s advice and my pleas to stay at home. My blubbering, as you put it, Bobby, was for you because I knew what a dangerous job you had taken on.’

  ‘Okay. But it’s hardly what you could call a protected zone here.’

  ‘I’ll give you that but it’s not fraught with danger the way the convoys are. And before you say anything, I know that Dad can take the occasional bucket and is in danger of getting knocked down – but he never ends up drifting rudderless in a tin-pan boat out in the North Sea.’

  ‘Is this going to be the start of you begging me to leave the Merchant Navy and get my job back in Robb’s?’

  ‘You could do worse.’

  ‘No. I have to be where I’m able to be the most useful.’

  ‘Useful? And where do you think this country would be if it wasn’t for all the ships that we are building and repairing – and before you answer that I’ll tell you – under Hitler’s jackboot!’

  Bobby blew out his lips before starting to make loud clicking sounds with his tongue. He accepted that there was nothing to be gained from arguing with Kitty. The best thing he could do was change the subject. With a disarming smile he wheedled, ‘Any chance of a wee bite of breakfast before we go and see Mum?’

  Before Kitty could answer Rosebud hollered, ‘Kitty, where are you? I’m starving.’

  ‘Hungry maybe, Rosebud, but starving … never,’ was Kitty’s trite reply.

  Two hours later Kitty and Bobby were kneeling at Sandra’s grave while Rosebud was running amok around the cemetery.

  Whatever it was that Kitty wished to tell her mother she did so in silent prayer. This unspoken chat, however, was brought to an abrupt halt when she became aware of Bobby speaking aloud to their mother.

  ‘Mum,’ she heard him utter though deep sobs, ‘I’m just here today to thank you for being with me when I was lost and adrift in the Atlantic.’ Kitty was astounded. Up until then she thought she was the only one whom Sandra was still there for and talking to. But here was Bobby saying that she was still real to him too. That his ordeal in the lifeboat had been made bearable because he had believed that she – and who could argue that she hadn’t – had arrived to soothe and comfort him.

  An hour later Kitty and Bobby were taking it in turns to hold on to Rosebud’s hand as she walked along the sea wall at Seafield. It was one of those magical mornings when the cool winter sun danced on the incoming tide and the rush of its buoyancy and energy filled you anew with hope and determination. Bobby and Kitty looked at each other and both knew what each other was thinking as they walked on in comfortable silence. Both were now thinking back to the days of fish-paste sandwiches, red cola, Mum and Dad – many happy childhood days on ‘Porty’ beach.

  Eventually they had walked along the prom until they reached Demarco’s coffee shop. ‘Changed days,’ Bobby chuckled as he put his arm around Kitty. ‘Sorry I don’t have any sodden sandwiches or broken biscuits but I could take you inside here and treat you to a coffee.’

  Before Kate could respond Rosebud demanded, ‘And can I get a cone with raspberry stuff running off it?’

  ‘Why not,’ replied Bobby, who had now linked arms with Kitty. ‘And just think in eight weeks’ time it will be a new year. And who knows – 1944 could finally see the end of the war.’

  As they entered the café and took a seat, Kitty thought that the war being over next year was a dream too far, but she did think that it would soon be all over and Bobby would come home to Leith for good. She hesitated before adding silently, Or make his land base in Cardiff.

  ‘Bobby,’ she began when her curiosity was beginning to choke her, ‘when the war is over what are your plans?’

  ‘Simple – make a career for myself in the Merchant Navy. I know it will mean me going to the Nautical College from time to time but that’s what I’m going to do.’ He winked and leant over and squeezed Kitty’s hand. ‘How do you fancy being the sister of a chief engineer?’

  ‘Is it only the captain’s and chief engineers’ wives that are allowed to go on voyages with them?’

  Bobby nodded and chuckled before saying, ‘I think being able to sail the seven seas is the main attraction for Harriet.’

  ‘You’re joking?’

  ‘Of course I am. I hope she loves me for who I am and not the uniform and’ – he stopped and winked again at Kitty before adding – ‘the cruises around the world.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ was all Kitty offered in reply.

  ‘Look out there, Kitty, what do you see?’

  Kitty stared long and hard out of the café window. All she could see were mountainous waves crashing on the shore while seagulls soared, dived and whooped. Her attention then strayed to the brilliant blood-red sun that coloured the sand, sea and spray as it glinted and shone on them. At that moment she became mesmerised by the beauty and the energy of it all. She earnestly wished then she could paint and capture this picture so that she could keep it beside her for the rest of her life.

  Bobby brought her back to the present by saying, ‘I’m still waiting, Kitty, for you to tell me what you see.’

  ‘I see a turbulent sea doing what it pleases and tossing the rubbish where it belongs, out of its way. A winter sun determined to shine brighter than in the summer and making the best of
the time that it has.’

  ‘Exactly,’ enthused Bobby. ‘And that is what I intend to do. Make my life anywhere that it suits me and aim for the sky. As to you, Kitty, you were dealt from the bottom of the deck but you are just nineteen and you still could make a good life for yourself.’

  ‘And how will I do that?’ She chuckled before searching in her pocket for a handkerchief to wipe melted ice cream off Rosebud’s face, hands and finally shoes.

  ‘Yeah, at present you have Rosebud to look after but she will grow up and already she is showing signs of doing her own thing. Eventually she will leave you and then, Kitty, do you still intend to be scrubbing stairs, washing boiler suits and being at everybody’s beck and call – surely not!’

  ‘And what do you propose I do about it?’

  ‘Start now. Enrol in night school and demand that someone else cares for Rosie Buddy here on those nights.’ Bobby was now tickling Rosebud and she was chortling.

  ‘You mean you can see me serving my time like Connie – as a plumber.’

  Bobby’s uproarious laughter echoed around the shop. ‘Good heavens, no – I expect you to have ambition, drive. Come on, Kitty, you are intelligent and pretty with it. So take your time but as soon as possible make up your mind what it is you are going to do with your life and then get on with it.’

  ‘And what about Dad?’

  ‘I have a feeling that when the war is over the shipyards won’t be enough for him. He’s clever too, Kitty, and wily. Never had the chance … or more correctly never took it.’ Bobby stopped to grin and chuckle. ‘And I hope that somehow, after the war, he gets the opportunity to show everybody exactly what he is capable of.’

  ‘You’ve become quite the philosopher.’

  He chuckled. His gaze was out at sea again. Without really addressing Kitty or anyone else he put his thoughts into words. ‘See, when I was drifting aimlessly in the Atlantic and the pain in my arm was unbearable and I had to distract myself from the agony – I thought deeply about life and I now know that you only get one shot to be who you really are. What I’m saying is that you shouldn’t be hanging about until the dark clouds roll away – no – it’s all about learning to sing and tap dance in the rain.’

  * * *

  Going to work as an apprentice, especially for a mature woman, was a daunting experience. Connie knew all the pitfalls that she mustn’t fall into – like being sent for a long stand or a tin of tartan paint. That was all fine but what she had not taken into consideration was that if she had been male she would have had to share the men’s lavatories and even although they had doors and locks on them now she decided to stay constipated – even wait until dinner time, when she would be able to use the women’s facilities in the main administrative block.

  Everybody had told her she would be nauseated at the start of her plumbing apprenticeship, because the trainees got all the foul-smelling jobs to practise on, but she wasn’t. In fact she was the best of the new starts that day and more than able to cope with not only the foul odours and the clearing out of the unsightly gunge but also with the relentless teasing from the men.

  5

  JANUARY 1944

  The New Year did not come in with a bang … more of a damp squib. Well, it would after the amazing events of December 1943.

  On the night of Christmas Eve, Kate had congratulated herself on the fact that she had managed to wriggle out of fire duty. Whilst looking into the fire burning brightly in the grate she gave out an impromptu burst of laughter. Poor Santa, she thought, no way will you get down our chimney without getting your whiskers singed.

  An alarming noise – not so much as a knock but more of a thump and a kick on the outside door – put an end to her musing.

  Making sure to draw the living-room blackout curtain securely over the door she then warily unlocked and opened up the entrance to the house. Peering into the black forbidding gloom she was startled when a heavy object fell against her.

  ‘What in the name of heaven is going on?’ she gasped before beginning to dance with the load.

  ‘Nothing to worry about, Miss … No, we are not at work so it is … Kate,’ Hans said in muffled reply. Lifting his face clear of the package he went on, ‘I have just brought your clock back.’

  ‘In bits?’ Kate tittered as she continued to waltz with Hans and the stack.

  Once they had got the load into the living room Kate shut the door and Hans balanced the clock against the wall.

  Immediately Kate pounced forward to drag the covering off the timepiece, but Hans restrained her. ‘No. No. No. No,’ he chastised. ‘We must not waste. Let me unpack the clock and I will keep the corrugated cardboard and paper for future use.’

  Standing with her hands tightly covering her mouth, Kate started to pant. Has he, she wondered, managed to salvage it for me?

  When all of the considerable packing was stripped away, she uttered a short cry. There standing in front of her was a sight to behold: it was her father’s granddaughter clock. The antique timepiece had not only been repaired but it was now more beautiful than she remembered it had ever been. Being a craftsman, Hans had not only restored the mechanical workings of the clock but he had also repaired the casing – the casing that had then been finished off with a long overdue French polish.

  Kate at first was so overcome that she stood mute and motionless. Then, as if in a dream, she gently reached out to stroke the shining coffer. Lifting her eyes to the clock’s face she then lovingly ran her hands over it. She still had her hands on the glass when it seemed to her that her father joined her. His presence was even more evident when the clock began to sweetly chime out the evening hour of eight.

  Minutes passed with nothing being heard but the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Hans would have liked to say something to Kate but he knew it was only right that he allow her time to enjoy the clock that was so dear to her.

  Eventually, she held out a hand to him and he raised it to his lips and passionately kissed it. Through scalding tears she mumbled, ‘Thank you so much, Hans. You are a master. This clock means so much to me and I feel that you have not only skilfully restored it but you did it with love and devotion. Love that is now living within this clock, and all who look at it will see and feel it.’

  She wished now that she had bought him a Christmas present, but she knew from the frequent outings they had recently been on that the one thing he wished for could not be purchased.

  Tenderly taking his hand in hers, she slowly began to guide him to the stairs and as they mounted the step Hans whispered, ‘Are you sure?’

  She hesitated. It was a big step. Nonetheless, she knew from their several intimate conversations that he was an honourable man. It was more than evident that he wished to bed her, but only if she would agree to become his wife. Her hesitation to grant his wish had been because he was a penniless Polish refugee. She was afraid that people would think that because she was now perceived to be over the hill, he was all that she could attract. Truth was there was not one man in Leith, or indeed Edinburgh, that she would favour in front of him, so all she said was, ‘My darling Hans, believe me, I am more than sure.’

  ‘Your mother?’

  ‘No need to worry about my mother right now. Tonight she’s babysitting Rosebud up at my brother’s house and tomorrow I will …’ She didn’t finish what she was about to say because her bedroom door was open and the bed was beckoning.

  Always when Jenny arrived up at Johnny’s house she would have ‘goodies’ in her message bag. Being Christmas Eve things were no different except that she came in over-laden.

  ‘Oh, Granny,’ screamed Rosebud, dragging the cover from the shopping bag so she could rummage through it, ‘please say that you’ve brought me sweeties to keep me going until Santa comes.’

  Jenny ignored Rosebud. Her attention was on Kitty, who was all togged up for a night on the town. She beamed a broad smile and nodded when Kitty did a little twirl so she could see the full effect of the renovated dress.
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  Kitty slowly stopped pirouetting. ‘You know, Granny,’ she said, looking directly at Jenny, ‘I am just so grateful to you for offering to look after Rosebud so that I can go out dancing with Laura and Jack.’

  Wrestling a poke of sweeties from Rosebud’s hand, Jenny replied, ‘I’m not so sure that I’ve done the right thing in offering. I mean how did she get as high as she is?’

  ‘Oh, everyone going on and on about Santa Claus and what he is going to bring her. And if you try threatening her that if she does not behave herself then she can forget about getting a doll and pram, that only seems to make her worse.’

  ‘What time is your dad due home?’

  ‘Any time now. He has finished his work but he went for a pint or …’

  ‘Three or four?’

  ‘No, Granny, when he says a pint or two now it is never more than two.’

  The dancing trio were just about to run to catch the bus to the Eldorado Ballroom in Leith when Connie stumbled into their pathway.

  ‘Are you ill, Connie?’ a concerned Kitty asked.

  ‘Just feel a bit light-headed. Honestly I was doing so well with my plumbing training. Then today when I was confronted with some dead rats in a water cistern in a ship that’s in for repair I just felt like vomiting. Have felt green ever since and see when I got off the bus …’ She stopped to put her hand over her mouth as she retched. ‘The smell from the chip shop just made me want to oh … puke …’

  ‘Look,’ Kitty replied warily, ‘do you want me to come back and look after you?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re young and it’s Christmas Eve so off you go and enjoy yourself. Is your granny looking after Rosebud?’