To Dream Again

by To Dream Again (retail) (epub)

  ‘Would you object if I sat beside you?’ asked a female voice.

  Looking up he saw a neatly dressed middle-aged woman.

  ‘No, not at all! Please do!’ Queenie moved up with her usual awkward flutterings.

  ‘Oh, how nice to rest!’ The woman spoke with evident relief. ‘It’s been such a lovely day I was tempted to take a walk, and I’m afraid I’ve rather overdone it.’

  ‘A little sit in the sun is what you need,’ said Queenie shyly.

  ‘It is indeed, and I’ve been so lucky. I’d not expected such lovely weather so early in the year.’

  ‘You’re just visiting Paignton, then?’ asked Joey.

  ‘Yes, I’m here for a few days to see my son. He’s at the hospital at Oldway. He was so badly gassed, poor boy.’ The woman’s voice faltered slightly. ‘He was at Passchendaele… And you?’ she inquired.

  ‘Ypres,’ said Joey shortly.

  The woman shook her head sadly, then she turned her face up towards the sun. ‘This is such a lovely part of the country.’

  ‘You’ve never been here before?’ asked Joey.

  ‘No. Well I’ve never gone in for holidays much. If this war has had any benefit it’s at least made us travel more. If poor George hadn’t been in hospital I’d never have come here. I’ll come again, though. I’m quite determined about it, once the war is over and George is fit again. We’re going to come back and really enjoy this lovely beach, and the pretty countryside.’ The woman gave a little laugh. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll be the only ones, either, what with all the hospitals and nursing homes in this area. You’ll see, after the war there’ll be a great rush of folks coming here for their holidays because of it.’

  ‘I’m glad we’ll be able to thank Kaiser Bill for something,’ said Joey. ‘A bit of extra trade’s always a good thing.’

  ‘Well, now that my feet are rested I think I’ll give a bit of extra trade to a tea-shop. I’ve found ever such a nice one. Lovely cakes. How they manage it with all this rationing I don’t know! The only trouble is it’s right at the other end of town. I wish there was one a bit closer to the beach. But we can’t have everything, can we?’ The woman rose and gazed out across the sea. ‘Oh, how I envy anyone lucky enough to live here! Still, I’ll have to do the next best thing and come for regular holidays. I’d best be off. Goodbye, I’ll leave you in peace now.’

  ‘She seemed a nice person,’ said Queenie, after the woman had gone.

  Joey did not reply. He scarcely heard her. The chance conversation with a complete stranger had achieved what all his puzzling and pondering had failed to do – given him an idea for his future. It was so obvious he was a fool not to have seen it before. So many people were getting to know the area, and finding out what it had to offer, there was bound to be a boom in the holiday trade after the war. This was what he should be working towards – getting a foothold in the tourist business. His choice of phrase brought a smile to his face, but for once it held no trace of bitterness. He had too much to think about! Why should he wait until after the war? The demand was there now! All those families who were coming down to see fathers or brothers. What did they need? Somewhere clean, cheap and comfortable to stay! Somewhere pleasant where they could get a decent, inexpensive meal! There were places like that in Paignton, but not enough! There was plenty of room for more, even now in wartime.

  ‘You’re very quiet!’ Queenie’s voice broke into his thoughts. ‘You’re feeling all right, are you? You’ve not got overtired.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he replied, more cheerful than he had been in a long time. ‘I’m just thinking something out, that’s all.’

  ‘You and your thinking and your reading!’ said Queenie fondly. ‘It’s a wonder your poor brain doesn’t ache. Let’s go home now, shall we? I’ve got a nice piece of ray for your tea. If you fancy it?’

  ‘That sounds a bit of all right,’ replied Joey. ‘Could you manage a few chips as well?’

  He was rewarded with a beaming smile.

  ‘Of course I can! Oh, it’s good to see you getting your appetite back again!’

  Now that he had a germ of an idea to work on Joey could not let it go. Every day it gnawed at him. Two things were immediately clear to him - he had to act quickly, or he would lose his best chance of succeeding, and he would have to move from the lodging-house. Church Street was fine and convenient for many things, but most visitors would head towards the sea and the beach; that was where the money would be made.

  It did not take him long to decide what he wanted – a small cafe with a few rooms to let for bed and breakfast. That was only to start with, of course. Once he had got it established he would expand the business, more tables, a decent restaurant, maybe even building up into a proper hotel… A top rate hotel like the Devonshire Hall! Now that would be something!

  One invaluable asset he did have was Queenie! She was a good cook, and she worked harder than anyone else he knew. There was Mrs Baxter, too. She would probably stay with them, so there would be no staff problems in the beginning. With the three of them working together he did not doubt that they would succeed.

  To provide the capital he would have to sell the property in Church Street and… Here his dreams invariably crumbled. Property was not selling well, not while the war continued. His scrutiny of the papers had told him that much. And even if he found someone eager to take on the lodging house he would get next to nothing for it, it was in too bad a state of repair. One thing he was determined not to do was to go to Mercy for help – not until he had some capital to put into the venture. Black despair overwhelmed him. What was the point of dreaming and making plans? He had no money! He could not even get about on his own!

  The problem of his immobility caused Joey more anguish than anything else. He was making progress, but too slowly to satisfy him, so he worked out a regime of his own, far more severe than anything the hospital advised, to get himself walking again. To this end he did exercises, forcing into action muscles that had been inactive for so long. Arms, back, stomach, his one good leg – daily he forced them to work again. He would go out alone, too, setting himself daily targets to reach on his crutches.

  One of his greatest challenges was closest to home. The steep lane running alongside the house was rough and rutted, here and there the red bedrock showed through precariously.

  On this particular day it had been raining, and the lane’s uneven surface was slimy with mud, causing his crutches to slip. More than once he had to put out a hasty arm against the rough-hewn wall to stop himself from falling. At last he stopped, tired and sweating. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were already like red-hot wires, his back was one massive ache. Before he made the return journey he would have to rest. Thankfully he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

  ‘Are you all right, mate? Do you need a hand, or anything?’

  He opened his eyes to find a stranger regarding him with some concern. The man was a little older than himself, not so tall, and decidedly more prosperous-looking. His navy-blue pinstripe suit was a little flashy, but not cheap, anyone could see that.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ lied Joey. ‘Just having a bit of a breather.’

  ‘You’re not going to try to get up there, are you?’ The stranger nodded towards the slope.

  The incredulity in his voice acted as a spur to Joey. ‘Yes, why not? I’ll manage fine once I’ve had a bit of a rest,’ he said with assurance.

  ‘Well, I know I’d not tackle it in your place. Where did it happen?’

  ‘Ypres.’

  ‘Ah, that sounded to be a very nasty do. Me, I missed it all. A dodgy heart!’The stranger patted his well-tailored chest. ‘I’m not sure whether I’m glad or sorry. I don’t fancy what I’ve heard about the war; but then I feel a bit out of it, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m out of it too, now.’

  ‘Very true, and with good reason. Can’t they do something better for you than those two bits of wood?’ The ma
n glanced down at Joey’s crutches.

  ‘I’m in line for an artificial foot. They say they’re so good you even get corns, but that’s still a bit in the future. There’s a good many ahead of me in the queue. Until then I have to go on my peg-leg. All I need is a bloomin’ eye-patch and a parrot.’

  Joey refused to accept the stranger’s pity and the man gazed at him with renewed respect. ‘You’re cheerful enough about it, I must say.’

  ‘Not much choice, really. I’ve got to look to the future.’

  ‘I agree with you! Take your chances and look to the future! Think ahead! Now, cars – they’re my business – they’re the future! Horses are a thing of the past! Only fit for chasing foxes and improving rhubarb! When this war’s over the roads are going to be swarming with cars. They’ll be big business, and I intend to have my share. I’ve already got one garage and I’m on the look out for another.’

  ‘To buy when the war’s over?’

  ‘To buy now! There’s no point in waiting until peace breaks out. All those poor sods who’ve survived the war’ll be coming home wanting jobs or to run businesses, and there won’t be enough to go round, you mark my words. So I’m acting now. If I wait I’ll lose my chance.’

  Joey’s tiredness slipped away from him.

  ‘Do you know, that’s exactly how I feel,’ he said. ‘My problem is a lack of cash.’ He glanced down. ‘And the lack of a good leg.’

  ‘From what I’ve seen you’re managing on one pin pretty well. If you can do that, you can do anything. OK, so you’ve only got one foot. Well, my advice is don’t let the grass grow under it! I don’t intend to be caught napping. That’s what I’m doing here – looking at a possible site.’

  ‘I didn’t know there was a garage down here.’

  ‘There isn’t. I was thinking of building one. It’s not on, though, not here.’ He indicated the small builder’s yard behind them. ‘Not enough space for what I intend to do, and the access is bad. I need to be on the top of the hill, on the road up there.’

  ‘I’ll sell you the house on the corner,’ said Joey jokingly.

  ‘Is it yours to sell?’

  ‘It’s mine right enough. I wish it wasn’t. It’s falling down and I can’t afford to repair it.’

  ‘As a salesman you’ve a lot to learn, my lad,’ the man smiled. Then his face grew serious. ‘Look here, I know you were only kidding, but maybe it’s not such a daft idea, if you really mean you want to sell.’

  ‘I mean it, all right.’

  ‘In that case let’s have a closer look. Have you had a long enough rest?’

  ‘I’m fine now. Let’s go,’ said Joey, feeling slightly bewildered by the unexpected turn of events.

  Declining his companion’s offer of a hand up the hill he doggedly stumped his way, step after painful step.

  At the top the man regarded the house with interest.

  ‘This looks promising,’ he said. ‘The position’s fine. Just what I’m looking for. Freehold or leasehold?’

  ‘Freehold.’

  ‘Good. Could still do with a bit more space, though. What’s at the back?’

  ‘It’s a fowlyard. The old fellow in the house across the road owns it.’

  ‘Even more promising. Do you think he’d sell?’

  ‘He might, if the price was right.’

  The stranger nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘Hm, this needs a bit of careful consideration. Look, this is my card. Raymond Hodges is the name. If you give me your name and address I’ll be in touch. I might make an offer for your place, I might not, it depends. You do understand it would just be the site value, don’t you? The house is no use to me. It would have to come down.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Joey.

  ‘And a lot hinges on whether the old fellow’s willing to part with his hens. As I say, I’ll be in touch, if that’s all right with you?’

  ‘It’s all right,’ said Joey faintly, still bemused. Then more definitely he said, ‘In fact it’s fine, and I look forward to hearing from you, Mr Hodges.’

  Raymond Hodges shook hands with Joey. ‘Good luck to you,’ he said. ‘I hope we can do business. I like a man who knows his own mind.’

  Joey watched him walk away. By the time the nattily suited figure had turned out of sight towards Winner Street he was already wondering if he had dreamed the whole encounter. But no! In his hand he held a piece of pasteboard upon which was printed: ‘Raymond Hodges – Finest quality new and second-hand cars. Speedy motor repairs. Agent for Dunlop tyres.’ And underneath was an address in Torquay. Raymond Hodges was real enough, but had he meant what he had said? Would he really get in touch?

  A week later the letter came. On the type-written page set out clearly in black and white was an offer. A good offer. Better than Joey had dared to hope. His first action was to hobble to the local post office and phone Mercy.

  ‘What’s the matter? Is something wrong? Is Queenie ill?’ she asked anxiously, when she heard his voice.

  ‘No, of course not,’ he reassured her. ‘Just because I’ve phoned you doesn’t automatically mean bad news. To tell the truth, Mercy, I’d like to have a talk with you about a little matter of business. Is there any chance you can come over?’

  Mercy caught the eagerness in his voice. He had not sounded so bright and enthusiastic for a long time.’ll come this afternoon,’ she said. ‘I’ll get a taxi just this once. A woman in my condition shouldn’t be expected to struggle on the bus in order to visit her wounded brother.’

  ‘Your condition?’ In his excitement Joey had forgotten his sister was expecting again. ‘Oh yes! How’re you keeping?’

  ‘I thought you’d never ask,’ chuckled Mercy, noticing the omission. ‘I’m fine, thanks. I’ll see you later.’

  When she arrived Queenie showed her into the back parlour, where Joey was sitting, then hurriedly left them alone.

  ‘She’s still a bit scared of you. Daft, isn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘She’s just naturally bashful,’ replied Mercy, though she doubted if shyness was the true reason for her sister-in-law’s hasty withdrawal. She had noted Queenie regarding her already prominent bulge, and seen the look of wistfulness that had crossed the other woman’s face.

  ‘You’re looking well,’ observed Joey. ‘Being in the family way certainly suits you.’

  ‘I know it does. I feel absolutely marvellous. There’s nothing like the prospect of a baby to brighten life up.’ She paused. ‘I don’t suppose you and Queenie havenews on that front, have you?’

  ‘Certainly not!’ Joey said shortly. ‘Queenie’s got enough to do pushing me about. She couldn’t manage with a baby as well. How’s Peter?’

  The determined way he was changing the subject was not lost on his sister.

  ‘Peter’s fine, thanks. At least, he was according to his last letter.’ She gazed at him steadily. ‘Now we’ve got all the polite formalities over and done with, let’s get down to really important matters. What do you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘How do you fancy being my business partner?’

  ‘I’ll tell you better when I know what the business is.’

  ‘A cafe and little guest-house combined. There’s a property going on Torbay Road that would be ideal. It’s been on the market for a while, so I’ve a good chance of getting them to drop their price a bit.’

  ‘A cafe and guest-house? This is a bit sudden, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really. I’ve been thinking it over for ages. Look, I’ve even done the costing for the furnishings and equipment we’ll need.’ He laid a list of figures in front of her.

  ‘Goodness, you are serious! You’ve certainly gone into the matter thoroughly!’ She was impressed.

  ‘Of course I have! I’ve got to get out of the lodging house business, Sis! I’m never going to amount to anything here. And now’s the time to make my move. A cafe and guest-house are exactly what I want. We’ll build the trade up gradually, then when we’re on a sound footing – and not
until – we’ll expand. I want it to be like some of the continental hotels I saw when I was on stand-by behind the Lines. Family-run they were, with good cooking and a bit of class. They’d started from small beginnings, I reckon, and so can I. A bit of hard work to begin with… But it would be great!’

  Mercy looked at his face, so alight with zeal. ‘What about this place in Torbay Road?’

  ‘The position is ideal. Between the beach and the station. Couldn’t be better. It’s got a good frontage on the road, too, so folks wouldn’t be able to miss us. It used to be a shop, and according to the advert it’s got a fair bit of living-space with it, four bedrooms and good attics. Of course I haven’t had a chance to look it over properly, not being too mobile; from what I’ve seen in passing it looks in pretty good order.’

  ‘It certainly sounds good,’ she said. ‘It would need a lot of hard work to get going, though. How do you think you’d manage? You admit yourself you aren’t particularly mobile these days.’

  ‘I’m not. But don’t think I intend to stay like this. I’ll be fitted for my artificial foot soon, then I’ll be standing on two legs just like anyone else. Until then, if I can’t work standing on my own I’ll lean against something. If I can’t lean I’ll sit. If I can’t sit I’ll jolly well lie on the floor – but I’m going to succeed!’

  The intense emotion in his voice shook Mercy. She had never heard her brother so determined about anything.

  ‘There is the question of the money,’ she reminded him.

  ‘I’m going to sell the house. I’ve had a good offer. Then there’s my pension for this!’ He patted his wounded leg. ‘It should be enough to keep a smallish wolf from the door, and for the rest…’He paused.

  ‘Is this where I come in?’ asked Mercy.

  ‘Yes. If you could see your way to coughing up the rest! You could either have it as an ordinary loan, and I’ll repay you regularly at a recognized rate of interest, or else you could have a proper share of the business. The decision is yours.’

  ‘How very kind of you!’ Mercy smiled at his businesslike manner. ‘I notice that you say “I” all the time and never “we”. What does Queenie think of all this?’