Dreams to Sell

by Anne Douglas

  As complicated as any opera plot, the story here had the comic duo cast as San Francisco firemen who rescue a would-be suicide, only to find that the reward he gives makes the police suspect them of trying to kill him, which means that somehow they all end up on the run to Alaska. At which point, Roz rather got lost, but it didn’t in the least matter, for there were plenty of opportunities for the humorous situations that the audience had come to see and which did make Dougal laugh out loud, while Roz and Flo could laugh too with the sheer relief of hearing him. When had they last heard Dougal laugh? It seemed so long ago they couldn’t help their laughter being mixed with tears, which they did their best not to let Dougal see.

  When the film ended at last and the lights went up, both turned to look at him, and weren’t really surprised to see that his face seemed to have somehow unfrozen. The closed look, the lack of expression had given way to a softness around the mouth and a light in the eyes that made both Roz and Flo long to speak, to comment, maybe even give him a hug, but they dared do nothing. Supposing it didn’t last? Was it only the result of the film? Best to keep still and hope.

  ‘Who’d like an ice cream?’ cried Flo, and Roz was instantly reminded of Evan and that first time they’d gone to the cinema and had ice cream in the intermission. How she missed him! If only he could have been with them to see the first signs of recovery in Dougal, to believe with her that that was what was happening! And how strange it was that this new love had come to her in a way she’d never expected, and that she, like Chrissie, had fallen for a ‘boy next door’. Wasn’t it said you could travel the whole world and not find love, only to find it on your doorstep?

  ‘Come on, then,’ said Flo, ‘do you want an ice cream or not?’

  ‘’Course we want one,’ Dougal replied. ‘We always have one at the pictures, eh? I’ll get ’em.’

  ‘No, I will,’ said Roz, jumping up and smiling at Dougal’s wish to have everything as it had been before his illness. ‘And then it’ll be time for the B picture.’

  ‘Only cartoons, I think,’ Dougal told her. ‘But hurry up anyway, time’s getting on.’

  Apart from Chrissie not being with them, it was just like the old days; the family at the pictures, sitting together, eating ice cream, and it was what Dougal wanted. Or even needed. There was no doubt now in the minds of Flo and Roz that the light at the end of the tunnel was beginning to shine even more brightly: Dougal was going to get better.

  They had finished their ice cream and in the darkened auditorium were waiting for the Disney cartoon film to begin, when – out of the blue – everything changed. One moment they were relaxed, content, and the next, along with everyone around them, spun into fear, rising, trembling in their seats, as the call went up: ‘Fire! Fire! Get out while you can!’

  And wisps of smoke drifted across the screen.

  ‘Go on, move!’ cried a large woman next to Roz, pushing her towards Dougal, who standing next to Flo, protectively holding her arm. ‘What in hell are you waiting for?’

  ‘Move, Ma!’ Roz shouted, as Flo appeared dazed. ‘Dougal, get Ma to move!’

  ‘I am, I am!’ he called back as they almost fell into the crowd of people in the aisle pushing towards a far exit where a crush was already building. ‘Roz, follow me, follow me!’

  She could feel the hands of the large woman on her back, forcing her into the aisle after Dougal, but then pushing her roughly to one side and elbowing her onwards into the crowd. ‘Dougal!’ she screamed. ‘Wait for me, wait for me!’

  But already she couldn’t see either him or Flo – was only aware of strangers around her, pushing against her, and herself falling; falling amongst legs and feet and knowing something was wrong with her arm, something painful, but nothing like the pain in the back of her head that was so sharp, she cried aloud. ‘Help me, help me!’

  But no one helped. Only the black cloud that descended over her gave her such wonderful relief. She let it take her she didn’t know where, and closed her eyes against the world.

  Sixty-Five

  There was still darkness around her when she opened her eyes, but there were no people and no noise, only a far-away pool of light. Everything was hazy, though, and she couldn’t seem to work out where she was; also, she felt rather sick and full of pain from her arm and her head, and heard herself murmuring unintelligible sounds.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she heard a voice say, and a face swam into view, one that seemed to be shaking to and fro above her but was calm and pleasant. ‘It’s all right, Miss Rainey, you’re safe. You’re in the Royal Infirmary.’

  ‘What … happened?’

  ‘You’ve concussion and a broken arm, but we’ll talk in the morning. Now you must try to sleep again. Do you need anything? Feel sick at all?’

  ‘A bit, but it’s going off.’ Suddenly, things seemed to be coming back to her and she tried to struggle up, her eyes full of terror. ‘The fire!’ she cried. ‘There was a fire! Where’s my mother? Where’s Dougal?’

  ‘They’re both safe,’ the nurse said soothingly. ‘There’s nothing to worry about, there was no fire, but you must sleep now and talk in the morning.’

  With firm hands she helped Roz to lie back against her pillows, smoothed the sheet and tiptoed away.

  No fire – how could that be? Roz, trying to see her surroundings and making out shadowy beds all with sleeping mounds, was mystified. There’d been no fire, Ma and Dougal were safe, but she had concussion and a broken arm? It was too much to take in, too much … She closed her eyes, and even without the black cloud to cover her, fell into deep sleep.

  It was morning when she woke again, daylight streaming into the long ward lined with beds filled with women patients, while nurses were busy with their duties. By her own bed, however, was a red-haired young man in a white coat who gave her a quick smile and introduced himself as Dr Kerr.

  ‘How are you feeling this morning, Miss Rainey?’

  ‘I – well, I’m not so sick, but I’m a bit muzzy and I’ve got a terrible headache.’

  ‘The muzziness will soon pass, so too will the headache, probably, but you took quite a blow to the back of your head which has left you with concussion.’

  ‘A blow to my head?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid it looks as though someone’s boot hit you when you were lying down. I’ll be looking at the mark this morning and give you some painkillers for the headache. We’ll also have to put your arm in plaster.’ He grinned. ‘We set it for you last night.’

  ‘How long will I have to stay in?’

  ‘That depends on how you progress – maybe no more than a couple of days. Feel like any breakfast?’

  When she shook her head, he told her she’d feel like eating later, but in the meantime she must keep up her fluid intake and rest as much as possible. First, though, she’d have to go down to have her arm put in plaster.

  Dr Kerr stood up, calling to a nurse to organize a wheelchair, and Roz, summoning her strength, asked when she could see any visitors. Already she was thinking not only of her family, but Evan. Would he even know yet what had happened to her? And who would explain to her just what had caused the fire that was not, it seemed, a fire at all?

  ‘Visitors this afternoon for a very short time,’ Dr Kerr said kindly. ‘But remember, it’s rest you need to get better.’

  It was three o’clock before anyone was allowed in to see her, and then it was Flo and Dougal, Flo carrying a bag of fruit, both looking large-eyed and pale, and sighing with relief when they saw her.

  ‘Oh, pet, we’ve been that worried!’ cried Flo, leaning to kiss her. ‘I canna tell you what it was like when we couldn’t find you last night – I was nearly up the wall – and then when we did find you, you looked so bad, so white, and unconscious! Wasn’t it terrible, Dougal?’

  ‘Terrible,’ he said, his voice shaking, but as she looked into his earnest face close to hers, a great joy filled her heart for, worried or not, it was Dougal’s old face she saw. Just as at the ci
nema, there were no more shutters, no longer any darkness in his eyes, only real feeling there for anyone to see, and she could have burst into tears over it.

  ‘We canna stay long,’ Flo whispered. ‘You’ve got to rest, they say, but I’ll be back tomorrow, eh? With Chrissie and all, but Dougal’s got to go back to the hospital tonight. He wants to have a wee word first. Take care, pet, take care!’

  There were quick kisses and then Flo left, leaving Dougal, who quickly pressed his sister’s hand.

  ‘That fire – it was just a hoax. A damned silly guy getting his kicks from setting off a smoke bomb and frightening everybody. He’s already been in trouble for arson, but now they’ve got him again – he’ll be in for it.’

  ‘I should think so!’ Roz cried. ‘I can’t believe anyone could be so wicked!’

  ‘Never mind him. I just want to say, Roz, that I – I think I’m OK.’ Dougal bit his lip. ‘It’s lifted, what was pressing me down, and I think that was beginning to happen before I came home. But it was seeing you, Roz, lying there looking so bad, that made me think – oh, God, I thought you were dead. And when you weren’t, I was so glad I knew I didn’t believe that life isn’t worth living any more – I knew it was all that matters, and if we survive we’ve got to be grateful for it. And I am grateful, Roz, that I survived – and so did you.’

  ‘Oh, Dougal!’

  They clung together for a moment, then Dougal drew away, smiling. ‘I’ve got to go now, Roz. I’ll see you as soon as you can make it to Rookwood, but there’s someone else waiting to see you now, and you’ll know who it is.’

  ‘Evan?’ she whispered.

  ‘Aye, Evan.’

  He came hurrying down the ward, his face drawn, his dark blue eyes searching each bed until he found Roz, then almost ran to her side and pressed his lips to hers – much to the interest of nearby patients and their visitors.

  ‘Roz,’ he murmured. ‘Oh, Roz, what a nightmare! I’ve been to hell and back since Bob phoned me at the hotel at midnight!’

  ‘It’s all right, Evan, I’m all right. I’ve just got a broken arm—’

  ‘And concussion. My God, if I could find the fellow who kicked you, I’d kill him. To trample on a person, to trample on you …’ Evan sat back, putting his hand to his face. ‘Why are there such people in the world?’

  ‘It’s a natural thing to want to save yourself, Evan. He might not even have known he’d done it. Never mind about him, sit down and talk to me.’

  ‘They’ve only given me ten minutes. It seems that rest is the thing for concussion.’ Evan breathed deeply. ‘But I’ll do anything they say, as long as they get you better.’

  ‘Poor Evan,’ she whispered. ‘Have you been driving all night?’

  ‘As soon as Bob rang me, I packed my bag, got in the car and drove like the clappers till – you’ll never believe this – the car broke down somewhere near Berwick. I had to walk miles to a phone, then when I got on to a garage I had to have a tow that they couldn’t do till morning, then I’d to wait for them to fix it so I had to sleep in the car.’ Evan, laughing, wiped his brow. ‘Got here just before your ma and Dougal went in to see you – didn’t even have time to get you flowers – but here I am, at last, thank God.’

  ‘I think I’ll be out soon, Evan. I’m feeling much better and they said they’ll probably let me go home the day after tomorrow. I can rest there.’

  ‘I’ll take you, then, but I’ll be in tomorrow afternoon anyway. Oh, look, may I kiss you again?’

  ‘Sorry, sir,’ a nurse interrupted, ‘but I think Miss Rainey should rest now. I’ll have to ask you to leave.’

  ‘Till tomorrow, then,’ he whispered, but she smiled.

  ‘Sign my plaster, Evan?’

  As admiring eyes followed him, he slowly left the ward after signing his name on her cast, finally turning at the door to wave and, to sighs of approval, she waved back.

  ‘That your young man, dear?’ someone called. ‘What a dream boat, eh?’

  But a nurse was already shaking her head and Roz, feeling amazingly weary, closed her eyes and slept, though her lips were smiling still.

  Sixty-Six

  It was seven o’clock the following day. Time for the ward’s evening visitors, but Roz, lying on her bed in her dressing gown, wasn’t expecting any, as she’d seen hers already. So lovely to see dear Evan and everyone, even though she did now feel very tired, but tomorrow – oh, joy – she’d be going home! Evan was to collect her after the doctors’ rounds, when she should be judged well enough to continue her convalescence at home.

  Her eyes moved to a large get-well card on her locker which bore all the signatures from those at Tarrel’s, with a special message from Angus saying she must come back soon, that he couldn’t manage without her, and another from Norma, who said she’d visit Roz at home.

  How kind everyone had been! How pleasant it was to know that they were thinking of her and that she was missed! Closing her eyes for a moment, Roz tried to ignore the itching beneath her arm’s plaster, and wondered when she would be well enough to return to work. Soon, she hoped, for she’d never been one for resting. Strange, though, that she still felt so weary!

  In came the visitors, tramping down the ward, but Roz, only listening, not watching, felt she would soon fall asleep. Except that some sixth sense was warning her that someone was near and, opening her eyes, she saw Laurence Carmichael.

  ‘Laurence?’ She was trying to make sense of it – Laurence, really here? In the hospital ward? ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I saw the piece in the paper about you, Roz. It said you were recovering here.’ He laid some flowers on her bed and put a hand on the chair by her bed. ‘May I sit down?’

  When she nodded he sat down, keeping his eyes on her face. ‘Such a terrible thing to happen to you. I had to come to see how you were.’

  ‘Did you? Well, thank you. As you can see, I’m not too bad. A broken arm, a bit of concussion, but I’m OK.’

  ‘Thank God for that.’

  They were still warily studying each other, Roz thinking he was looking rather strained, even a little older, and he thinking – well, she didn’t know what. If she was looking strained, too, he would know it was because of what had happened to her, but her guess was that she was looking happy. She should be, anyway, because she was.

  ‘Everything all right with you?’ she asked after a pause.

  ‘Fine.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Did you see that we’re engaged? Meriel and I?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, but congratulations.’

  He lowered his eyes and sat for a while without speaking, seeming oblivious to the chattering and laughing of the visitors in the ward, while Roz simply waited. At last, he looked up. ‘Made a mistake, didn’t I?’

  ‘No, Laurence, you did not. You chose the house – and that was right for you.’

  ‘Houses shouldn’t come before people. And I was never fair to you, was I? I let you down.’

  ‘You did what you thought you had to do. Let’s not talk about it.’

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about it.’

  She sighed. ‘If you’d been what you call fair to me, it would never have worked out. We’d probably have lost the house and been left with each other – and that wouldn’t have been enough.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it?’

  She shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘You didn’t love me?’

  ‘I did, but you were always part of the house, you see. I think now, maybe what I felt … wasn’t real. So, you needn’t blame yourself, Laurence. I was to blame, too.’

  ‘No, no, I won’t accept that.’

  ‘Well, it’s all over now. You have someone else – and so have I.’

  ‘Someone else?’

  ‘That’s right.’ She put out her ‘good’ hand. ‘We parted friends before; let’s do that now.’

  He shook her hand and rose. ‘I’ll wish you all the best, then. Every happiness.’

  ‘And I wish that for you
. It was very good of you to come to see me – I appreciate that. Oh, and thank you for the flowers! I’ll get someone to put them in water.’

  ‘Goodbye, then. Get well soon.’

  ‘Goodbye, Laurence.’

  He walked away, past the eyes of those patients who took an interest in Roz’s visitors, and she guessed they’d be wondering who he was and where he fitted in. What a Prince Charming he was, then – she knew she could still feel that, and was filled with a great sadness for him and the hope that he would be happy. Of course, he would be, she told herself. Meriel would see to it, and he would have his house. It had been his choice, after all.

  But why had she not asked him to sign her cast? Because he was part of the past? It was hard to say. But she knew she would not see him again.

  Sixty-Seven

  The following Saturday afternoon, when Roz had been back at home for several days and was feeling almost her old self – apart from her arm – Flo, who had the day off, said she’d just be nipping out for her messages.

  ‘You’ll be all right, pet?’ she asked, putting on a cardigan and taking up her shopping bags. ‘Anything you’d like, if I can find it? What a disgrace it is we’ve still got our ration books, then!’

  ‘How about salad?’ said Roz, looking up from her book. ‘It’s so warm, eh?’

  ‘Aye, I’ll get some cold stuff and boil some eggs. That’ll be fine for when Chrissie comes in, too.’ Flo, looking back from the door, said softly, ‘Oh, but it’s so grand to see you looking well again, Roz! You and Dougal both. I couldn’t be happier.’

  ‘Wait till he comes home, we’ll be putting the flags out then,’ said Roz, laughing. ‘Wonder what he’s going to do.’