Now the War Is Over

by Annie Murray

  ‘Oh?’ His voice was bitter. ‘Want me now, do yer?’

  She had lain turned away from him so many nights, refusing even to speak to him, angry with him. She had dreamt of Michael, of lying in his arms.

  She held her hand out. ‘I want us to be . . . To be us. The way we should be.’

  There was a long silence. In a husky voice, he said, ‘So – you won’t come with me?’

  She felt anger flare in her again but she swallowed it down. She felt sorry for not wanting something he wanted so badly.

  ‘I just can’t. I’m sorry.’

  He sank down on the bed with a sharp sigh. ‘I want . . .’ He trailed off. ‘Something . . .’ He made a frustrated sound and slapped his thighs. ‘I can’t say it. I just want more, that’s all. More life – outside of here.’

  She laid a hand on his back, on his familiar body and it felt right, felt like home.

  ‘I want more too. Just not the other side of the world. Why do we have to go so far? You might hate it and then what? We’re not that poor, Danny, not like some people. Auntie could have moved out of here to a better house ages ago, but she stayed because of Mo and Dolly. But now . . .’

  Danny turned his head. ‘Everything’s changing.’ She wasn’t sure if he sounded pleased about this.

  ‘Don’t be angry, Danny.’

  After another silence, he said, ‘You’re my missis.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  He turned and knelt on the bed, still in all his clothes, looking down at her and she looked back.

  ‘Don’t leave me,’ he said softly.

  ‘I won’t, Danny.’ She was astonished. What had he sensed in these weeks to make him say something so deeply vulnerable, to acknowledge this fear that he would never normally admit to? ‘Why would I leave you?’ She tried to keep things light. ‘Where d’you think I’m going to go, eh? I thought you were the one who was going to leave me.’

  ‘No.’ He lowered his head for a moment, then looked up at her again. ‘No. We’ll have to think of summat else, won’t we?’

  Twenty-Four

  Late July 1955

  A postcard arrived one morning for Rachel.

  Come over and see me as soon as you can. I need to talk to you about Cissy,

  Mother

  Rachel showed it to Gladys.

  ‘Got your marching orders then,’ Gladys said, after reading it.

  ‘Well, she could get herself over here if she wants to see me that badly,’ Rachel grumbled. Guiltily, though, she realized she hadn’t seen her mother for weeks. She’d been too busy, too caught up with Michael and everything else. Peggy didn’t even know she had another baby on the way.

  Gladys frowned. ‘What’s up with Cissy?’

  ‘How should I know? She hardly ever darkens our doors these days.’

  But they were all very fond of Cissy, even if she was exasperating. Rachel wondered what was wrong. Wouldn’t Cissy have come to her, her big sister, if she had a problem? When I get a minute, she thought, I s’pose I’ll have to traipse all the way over there and see what’s going on.

  Feeling annoyed with her mother once again, she went out into the yard to fill a bowl of water for washing clothes. It was overcast but warm. The children who were too young for school were outside, Ricky and a couple of other little lads poking about with a ramshackle go-kart at the other end of the yard.

  As she went to the tap, Rachel found Dolly, leaning against the wall in a patch of sunlight, smoking a cigarette. Seeing Rachel, she pushed herself off from the wall, blowing smoke back over one shoulder.

  ‘All right, Rach?’

  ‘Yeah – ta. I hope the cowing water’s on today.’ She put the bowl on the ground. A miserable trickle emerged from the tap. ‘Huh. Better than nothing.’

  ‘Getting on for six months now, is it?’ Dolly eyed her front which was now taking on an unmistakeable shape. ‘Keeping all right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Rachel said grumpily. From the day she left Michael, she had not been back to his house and he must have steered clear of the school because she had not set eyes on him. She was happy, knowing things were better with Danny, that she had done the right thing in the end. But she missed Michael. She missed the excitement of going over there under false pretences, however bad that was, missed the desire she saw in his eyes. And she missed his friendship.

  In all the other kerfuffle going on in the yard, and because she was expecting now, no one had even commented on her not going out on Thursdays any more. And no one would ever have guessed why she was in a disgruntled mood. Her chest ached with sadness and she felt she was in mourning, no matter how much she told herself to buck up and stop being so silly.

  ‘Oh, it’s not all bad, bab,’ Dolly said, thinking she was just down about the baby. ‘I feel empty-handed now my Donna’s gone to school. You want to make the most of it.’

  ‘Yes. I s’pose.’ Rachel made an effort not to be so bad-tempered and looked at Dolly properly. ‘Ooh, you look nice! Isn’t that a bit posh for around the house, though?’

  Dolly had her hair up in a scarf and a pinner on, but under it, Rachel could see the skirt of one of her new dresses. Dolly, with money to spend, had been splashing out. All the family had new clothes.

  Dolly smiled, pulling up the apron to show a full skirt of scarlet material covered in big white polka dots. She had on a smart pair of white high-heeled shoes.

  ‘It’s only cotton,’ she said. ‘But yes – I s’pose I should’ve left it off ’til later.’ She sighed. ‘It’s nice, buying a few things you haven’t made yourself – I can’t pretend it ain’t. But none of it’ll bring my Wally back. If I could choose . . .’

  The gaggle of little boys came tearing past just then, two of them dragging the go-kart.

  ‘Eh – d’yer wanna knuckle san’wich?’ the oldest of them bawled at one of the others.

  ‘Oi!’ Dolly berated him. ‘Watch it, you – none of that! What’s that Smith lad doing here anyway?’ she added to Rachel. ‘He ought to be at school.’ The lad was from the neighbouring yard.

  ‘Probably “off sick” again,’ Rachel said. ‘She can’t be bothered to make ’em go. Ricky!’ she shrieked after her youngest. ‘You stay in the yard where I can see you!’

  ‘Oh, Mom!’ Ricky yelled. He was immediately full of a four-year-old’s boiling frustration. ‘I wanna go out there. We ain’t doing nothing. We was next door but Mrs Smith told us to gerrout – ’er said ’er’d tan our arses if we—’

  ‘Ricky –’ Rachel advanced on him, hands on her hips – ‘I don’t give a monkey’s what Mrs Smith said. You stay in here. The other’s’ll be back in a minute anyway – look, they’ve left the kart behind.’

  Ricky slumped to the ground with an air of misunderstood tragedy and sat with his shoulders hunched, legs crossed. Rachel walked back to Dolly who was turning the tap off for her.

  ‘Glad all right?’ Dolly asked, trying to sound casual.

  ‘Think so.’ Rachel looked at Dolly. Dolly had been Gladys’s friend for years on end and Rachel had known Dolly and her direct kindness too long herself to hide anything from her. ‘I s’pose she doesn’t want you to go. Or anything to change.’

  Dolly sighed, looking down at her feet, the cigarette held up close to her face.

  ‘D’you know – I don’t know if I’m glad any of this has happened, even if I have got a new frock or two out of it. My Mo’s in a right state. He keeps saying to me, “Dolly – should we just give it all away and have done with it? Go back to how we were?” He’s not sleeping, Rach. It’d be all right if we could just decide. We want to get out of here – live somewhere better. Look at this place – who wouldn’t? The writing’s on the wall anyway – they’ll come and knock the lot down soon. And there’s the boys to consider.’ She took a drag on her cigarette.

  Rachel realized Dolly badly needed a listening ear, had been waiting out there to unload her worries on someone.

  ‘Reggie – maybe he could find some different
work, or do summat else. And our Jonny – he wants an education when he gets back from the army. We can let him have it now.’ She shook her head and her eyes filled. ‘I don’t want to leave Glad behind – we’ve always been neighbours. We’ll still be friends. But it’s so difficult to make up our minds what we want. We ’ve never had to make up our minds before, not like this.’

  ‘You’ve not decided then?’

  ‘I have these dreams,’ Dolly said, with a wistful smile, ‘of somewhere out in the country with fields round us and chickens and everything lovely, all trees and flowers. Clean, with space to move. The air not stinking of chemicals and swarf and smoke. And you could all come out and see us. But –’ she flicked ash on to the ground – ‘I can’t believe in it, not really. I’ve been round here my whole life.’ She looked about her. ‘These old walls.’

  Rachel smiled. ‘But that sounds lovely, Dolly. Just cos you’ve always been here doesn’t mean you can’t change. I want to get out of here, Dolly, I really do. Somewhere better, with a bathroom, even a garden for the kids – think how that’d be.’ She thought of her mother again. Perhaps she was more like Peggy than she realized.

  ‘Well – you tell ’em!’ Dolly squeezed her arm. ‘Gladys and Danny make enough money – you don’t have to stay here.’ Her face fell for a moment. ‘Only it’ll be hard to leave. It’s what we’re used to.’

  Within a few days, Mo and Dolly had made up their minds. They came round to show everyone a picture of the house they had decided to buy. Rachel watched Gladys’s face as they made the announcement and saw her clenching her jaw as if to steel herself.

  Mo did the talking. He looked bashful, flustered, unused to all this.

  ‘They offered us all sorts – all over the place so we hardly knew if we was coming or going. I started to feel as if my head was gonna spin off!’ He looked around with his boyish blue eyes. ‘I’ve never had much choice over anything before, ’cept for marrying Doll here and that was – well, that was easy.’

  Dolly blushed and raised her cup at him. ‘Oh, Mo!’

  ‘You’d think it’d be nice to be able to have anything you want,’ Mo said, still sounding bewildered, ‘but when it comes down to it . . . Any road, we’ve tried not to act hasty, like, but when we saw this place –’ he tapped the sheet of paper he was holding to his chest – ‘I said to Doll, how about this, wench? It’s a palace of a place but it’s still in Brum. When it comes down to it, we’re Brummies – I don’t know how we’d get on out there in the sticks miles from anywhere.’

  ‘Well, come on then – let’s see it,’ Danny said, standing ready to look over Mo’s shoulder.

  ‘Where is it?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘Moseley,’ Dolly said, unable to keep it to herself any longer. ‘And it’s ever so grand!’

  ‘It’s only a stone’s throw from the main road as well, Glad,’ Dolly put in.

  ‘Moseley?’ Rachel said. ‘That’s on the number fifty, isn’t it?’

  Mo solemnly laid on the table a sheet of paper with a grainy photograph on it of what looked to all of them an absolutely enormous house. Everyone gasped and admired.

  ‘There’s a little park at the bottom of the garden, with a lake!’ Dolly said, her face lit up with excitement. ‘It’s . . . Oh, it’s . . . Well, it’s all pretty scruffy at the moment because an old couple have had it, but . . .’

  ‘You having it – for definite?’ Gladys asked. She was trying to sound pleased but not doing very well at it. Mo and Dolly were like a big liner, steaming on past her, leaving her in a little rowing boat.

  ‘We agreed today,’ Mo said. He looked at Dolly. ‘We still can’t really believe it – can we, Doll?’

  ‘It’s got seven bedrooms!’ Dolly said. ‘Can you imagine? We could have our grandchildren live with us!’

  Gladys was very quiet.

  ‘It sounds lovely, Dolly,’ Rachel said, trying to make up for Gladys. ‘We’ll all come and see you.’

  Twenty-Five

  August 1955

  A van drew up to the kerb in Alma Street and braked at the end of their entry. Mo had arranged for it to come as soon as he finished work on Friday afternoon.

  It was a muggy day with the close, blanketing heat which bodes a storm. Melly’s temples were throbbing and Gladys was sitting with Tommy at the table indoors, a wet cloth pressed to her forehead, her eyes closed. It was disturbing to see Auntie looking so lost and sad.

  Danny was helping Mo and some of his pals carry things from the house and out along the entry: the television and the few worthwhile pieces of furniture the Morrisons possessed and wanted to take with them. Kev and Ricky kept running up and down getting in everyone’s way and being yelled at.

  Melly watched from the doorway, close to tears at seeing the house they had all known so well for so long being emptied. She had to keep swallowing the lump in her throat. The Morrisons were going – all of them. Including Reggie.

  It was a torment to her whenever she saw him. She had no idea what to say to him and was haunted by painful, guilty feelings. None of what had happened was her fault in any way, she knew, yet the feelings persisted.

  Reggie’s walking was improving, supported by a stick now, not the crutch. It seemed he would always have a limp. He had gone back to work at GEC and as far as anyone could see he was getting on with his life. But Dolly would confide that he was very low in himself. Electric Avenue was a painful reminder of Wally, because the pair of them had worked there together before.

  Melly ached for him, but he showed no sign of wanting to talk, either to her or to anyone else. All his pain was locked inside him and Dolly was desperately worried. Melly was upset that the Morrisons were leaving. It felt like the end of things being normal and as she had always known them. They would see them again, of course, but not often. It wasn’t going to be the same at all. But not seeing Reggie was going to be an enormous relief. It would spare her the helpless torment of wanting to talk to him and not being able to, of feeling that things were ragged and unfinished.

  ‘Oh, Glad –’ Dolly came fluttering into their house, rag in her hand with which she was wiping her nose and eyes – ‘I don’t know if I’m coming or going today.’

  ‘Going?’ Gladys suggested caustically. She hauled herself to her feet and without looking at Dolly, started sorting through a pile of clothes.

  Her bitterness was lost on Dolly. ‘I’ve just said goodbye to Lil and she was so nice and kind – oh, I do feel for her, stuck there all the time with Stanley, the way he is. If only they could get out of here too. You’ll go and see them, won’t you, bab?’ She looked at Melly. Melly nodded, tears in her own eyes. ‘You’re such a good girl, going in to visit the way you do. Course, that one –’ she jerked her head towards number two and Ethel Jackman – ‘was as tart as ever.’

  ‘Oh, ar?’ Gladys said, peering at a rent in the lace collar of a blouse. ‘Well, that one’d be miserable if she was invited in at the Pearly Gates.’

  Melly watched Auntie as she took up a long navy coat to fold. She felt like ticking her off but didn’t dare. Auntie was hurt, Melly knew. But she shouldn’t be angry with Dolly, who was her best friend and was still suffering even though life had delivered a slice of luck.

  There had been tearful scenes only last week when Jonny had finally been called up for National Service. Dolly sobbed as she hugged him goodbye. They all knew that the army was the last thing quiet, scholarly Jonny wanted to be doing now. He wanted his books and to see if he could win a place at the university. But that would all have to wait now that another of those brown envelopes had arrived and he had to set off for Catterick for training.

  ‘Make us a cuppa tea, Melly, will you?’ Dolly asked. She knew better than to ask Gladys at this moment. ‘There’s a good’un,’ she said as Melly went to the stove. ‘I want to sit here ’til we have to go.’

  Rachel came in then, from the yard, draped in washing, a few clothes pegs in her hand.

  ‘All right, Dolly? You nearly
packed up?’ she said. Melly saw her mother take in that she was making tea, so she sat down as well, next to Tommy.

  Melly stood listening, leaning against the stove and drinking in these moments. Last moments. Tears prickled in her eyes. Gladys and Mom and Dolly sitting here, canting as they called it, had gone on all her life. Now, something that had gone on every day seemed so precious.

  It’s ending, she thought, a hand on the kettle’s handle, feeling its vibrations. This is how it feels when things end . . .

  ‘You’ll come and see us, won’t you?’ Dolly said, her nerves making her chatter and perhaps not wanting to leave any space for Gladys to have a go at her. ‘It’s going to be awful without all of you – and you must come too, Tommy, eh?’ She smiled at him. ‘Mo’s going to learn to drive as soon as he gets a minute. He wants to carry on at Norton’s, see. Drive across town. And he was worried about leaving the Salutation – he’ll be back every other day, I should think!!’

  They all smiled. The Salutation along the street was Mo’s favourite watering hole for all eternity.

  ‘He sat up in bed the other night – like that Frankenstein’s monster – and he said, “Dolly – I’m not gonna be able to go to the Salutation!”’

  They all laughed at the thought of pink-faced Mo doing a Boris Karloff.

  ‘So I said to him, “Don’t be daft – course you will. You can go over. Your pals’ll still be there.” That cheered him up. He thought the world had ended for a moment there! But –’ her voice became anxious – ‘I’ll be able to pop over to you, won’t I? And you’ve got to come and see us. It won’t feel like home without all your mugs about.’

  ‘What about Reggie?’ Melly dared to ask as she poured them their tea. ‘What’s he going to do? I mean –’ she gabbled – ‘it’ll be hard for him on the bus, with his leg and everything.’

  Dolly turned to her and gave a tender smile. Melly blushed. She imagined they didn’t know she had been soft on Reggie. They hadn’t guessed, surely?

  ‘He’s going to find summat else – once we’re over there. And Fred can get a job . . .’ Fred had just finished school. She shook her head. ‘It feels ever so odd not having to worry about every penny. But I’m frightened of it all running out. Mo’s being ever so careful – saving for when we need it and that.’