The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow

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The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow Page 14

by Maureen Reynolds


  Rosie took the apple. ‘I’ll cut this up for your dinner, Jay.’ She smiled at me. ‘Are you all set for Hattie’s meal tonight?’

  I nodded. ‘We’ve all put our meat coupons towards a steak pie but no doubt Hattie will dress it up beautifully – especially as Graham is going to be there.’

  Rosie looked mischievous. ‘Will there be a wedding do you think?’

  ‘Well, I think Hattie is hoping for that, Rosie.’

  Granny and Lily had already left for home so I set off alone for the Overgate. Lily pounced on her presents with glee while we unwrapped ours very carefully. Granny always saved the paper so we smoothed our wrapping paper out.

  Granny got a lovely floral apron while Lily was delighted with a set of colouring pencils which were obviously pre-war and good quality. I got a jar of Ponds cold cream and a jar of vanishing cream – no doubt to make myself attractive.

  I actually considered giving Granny the pots of cream in exchange for the apron until I realised what an old misery I was turning into. Then, when Lily opened Mr Peters’ present, she burst into tears. I was taken aback but she said the present was so lovely that she cried with joy.

  We left her transferring all her pencils and bits and bobs into the wonderful box and I noticed she traced her name with her finger. Thank you, Mr and Mrs Peters I thought, for giving two children such wonderful presents – and I was sure they would treasure them for a long time.

  Granny was making a pot of soup for our dinner and the rest would be taken to the Westport later. ‘Hattie said we’re having our meal at teatime because Graham has had to go to Clydebank on business,’ she said.

  I stood and looked out the window. The street was abuzz with noise as children played with whatever toy had come their way. Most of these looked home-made but the children were shrieking with delight and it was a pleasure to listen to. Toys, like everything in this wartime world, were in short supply and it was a case of making do and mending.

  At five o’clock, all dressed in our best frocks, we made our way to the Westport. Hattie’s house was a delight. She had put up paper garlands and, although they were a bit frayed in places because they were years old, they made the room cheerful.

  A tempting smell emerged from her tiny scullery and the table was lovely with her best white cloth and sparkling china dishes.

  There was no sign of Graham.

  ‘Oh, he shouldn’t be long now,’ she said when Granny asked.

  Hattie, who was always so elegant, had surpassed herself that night. She looked incandescent in a blue crêpe-de-chine frock and a floaty blue scarf. She kept touching this scarf and I wondered if it had been a present from Graham.

  She had managed to get a bottle of sherry from goodness knows where and a bottle of raspberry cordial for Lily. I went into the tiny scullery to give her a hand.

  She turned and looked at me, a glowing expression on her face. ‘Can you keep a secret, Ann?’

  I didn’t know what to say. What did she mean? A secret? I nodded dumbly.

  She lowered her voice. ‘I think Graham is going to ask me to marry him.’

  I was so pleased for her. ‘Oh, Hattie, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!’

  She whispered, ‘Don’t mention it yet. I’ll let you all know tomorrow.’

  We were sitting with our sherry, trying to feel cheerful. Granny, Lily and I had all shed a few tears before leaving the Overgate – tears of remembrance for Grandad.

  Then Graham appeared and once again I was shocked by his appearance. Hattie, however, didn’t seem to notice and he smiled at us all.

  ‘You’re just in time, Graham – the soup and steak pie are ready,’ said Hattie, looking fondly at him.

  We all sat round the elegant table, trying desperately not to spill a drop on the snowy white cloth.

  Graham now seemed to have recovered from his journey and he was chatting to Granny. ‘Yes, although my office was demolished in the bombing, I still have clients in Clydebank who like me to go and see them personally – you know what some old people are like. It’s so difficult to travel but I get the train and then walk to their houses to see them. A lot of the houses on the outskirts weren’t hit so they are still habitable.’

  At that moment two things hit me with suddenness. If the outskirts of the city were still standing, why had he not looked for an office nearer to his old one? And was I imagining a wariness in his eyes every time he mentioned the city? Oh, God, I hope not, I thought silently.

  Hattie was now serving the steak pie and we all laughed when we saw how little meat it held. The entire pie was filled with vegetables.

  Graham laughed. ‘Let’s have a “guess the amount of beef” competition!’

  Hattie gazed at him with so much love that I was suddenly afraid. Of what I didn’t know and, quite honestly, I didn’t want to know.

  But the evening went well. Granny put on a brave face for our sakes but I knew she was grieving for Grandad on this first Christmas alone so I think we all were glad when it was time to go home. Hattie and Graham saw us off and I could see Hattie was also glad we were leaving.

  Would he propose tonight? I wondered. I sincerely hoped so but there was a little niggle of doubt in my mind and the worst thing was I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong. Graham had been cheerful all evening but I was sure there was something.

  Lily and I had decided to stay at the Overgate and, when we reached the house, the first thing Granny did was put the kettle on. ‘One thing Hattie can’t make is a cup of tea – no’ the way I like to make it.’

  Lily laughed. Granny’s tea was legendary – it was so strong and black and not at all like the weak amber liquid served up by Hattie. We sat with our cups of tea while Lily went upstairs to her friend’s house as she wanted to show her the great pencil box.

  When she was gone, Granny asked me, ‘What do you think of Graham, Ann?’

  It was such an unusual question that I almost dropped my cup. ‘Graham?’ I said.

  She nodded. ‘Aye, Graham.’

  ‘I think he’s great and just what Hattie needs,’ I said truthfully. ‘Why do you ask, Granny?’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s just that you were sitting at the table and you looked like you were summing him up – like there was something you couldn’t figure out.’

  I tried to pass it off. ‘Och, Granny, I just think he looks like Arthur Askey and I keep thinking he’ll come out with a string of jokes.’

  Granny seemed satisfied with my answer and, to be honest, so was I. Was it this discrepancy between his looks and his manner that was confusing me? Then another thought came to mind. Had he asked Hattie to marry him? On that note, I went to bed but I didn’t sleep. As usual there were too many thoughts whirling around in my mind – Greg and Granny, Hattie and Graham, even Maddie who had visited us on Christmas Eve.

  ‘That’s another year almost over, Ann,’ she had said. ‘Another year older for Daniel and he still hasn’t seen his daddy.’

  She sounded down in the dumps and I had tried to cheer her up. ‘Joe says the war will be over by this time next year and Danny will be home with you both.’

  She shook her head, her blonde curls swinging. ‘What does Joe know? He’s just guessing.’

  ‘Well, that’s all anybody can do, Maddie – just look to the future and hope.’

  I think I fell asleep around three o’clock but my dreams were full of whirling images. Greg was walking towards me with his hand out but, before I could reach out and take it, another girl stepped in and they both walked off together, leaving me alone and feeling foolish.

  I was glad when the morning came. At least I was back in the normal everyday world full of war talk and shortages and not in some surreal dreamworld with its sad images materialising from the subconscious. No, in this normal world, I could block out the image of Greg and another woman.

  Hattie appeared later that day and I saw by her face that the proposal hadn’t happened. I opened my mouth to speak but she stopped m
e.

  ‘Not one word, Ann – I don’t want to speak about it again,’ she whispered furiously.

  I recalled her incandescent look last night and was suddenly saddened. What a world we all lived in – Maddie and Minnie’s children growing up without their fathers; me growing older and heading for a life alone when Lily grew up; and then there was Hattie and Graham but no wedding ring in the near future.

  Even Joe seemed subdued when he called at the shop. He had been full of the Italian armistice which had been signed in September but this euphoria had seemingly worn off. ‘I see Eisenhower’s to be the chief bummer in this war,’ he said sourly. ‘The Americans come in at the last minute and then they take over.’

  Connie said crisply, ‘Does it matter who’s in charge, Joe? As long as this war is over, I don’t care who’s the chief bummer. The Archangel Gabriel or Lucifer – it doesn’t matter a fig.’

  Joe was shocked. ‘You don’t mean that, Connie. Surely it’s got to be the good guys that win. We don’t want the devil taking over.’

  Connie laughed. ‘Just kidding, Joe. Let’s hope it’s Gabriel.’

  And so the year ended with long queues at shops and everyone making do and mending and Granny trying hard to keep a cheerful look on her grieving face.

  The only two bright spots were Lily’s success at Rockwell and the happy family that was Dad, Rosie and Jay. Somehow they made up for all the rotten bits.

  11

  The papers were calling it D-Day, 6 June 1944. The Allies had landed on the beaches of France and were now poised to overrun Europe. Surely it would only be a matter of a few weeks before the war was finally over?

  Joe was almost speechless with joy and, to be honest, Connie and I were also ecstatic with this news.

  ‘Did I not tell you that the end was in sight, Connie?’ Joe said, looking smug that his continuous optimism had finally been proved right.

  ‘Aye, you did, Joe, and it now looks as if we’re going to win this awful war. Mind you, I think Eisenhower might take all the credit for it.’

  Joe’s face went a deep puce colour. He said darkly, ‘He’d better not. We were fighting this war all on our own and it’s only because we held Hitler and his hordes at bay to let the Americans come into the picture – carrying on like a platoon of Errol Flynns and John Waynes.’

  ‘Och, I’m sure the ordinary American soldier is just as frightened of the war as our lads are,’ I said.

  Joe snorted and muttered something as he left the shop.

  But the good news was everywhere. The women standing in the queue at the grocer’s shop were full of it. One tall gaunt-looking woman was telling the assistant as she put her rations in her bag, ‘Och, aye, it’ll be jam and butter and roasts of meat at Hogmanay this year now that it looks like the war will soon be over.’

  The thought of plentiful food again and no more queuing, coupons or rationing cheered us all up. What bliss! I felt so much more optimistic, as was Maddie. She could now envisage a future with Danny and Daniel.

  Minnie, however, was less sure. ‘Quite honestly, Ann, it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen Peter that I’m worried about our reunion. He’s bound to have changed after all these years and what if we don’t get on?’ She gave me a worried look. ‘To tell you the truth, I can’t even picture his face. I try hard to visualise him but the harder I try, the more his face becomes vague and I have to look at his photo to remember him. Do you think that’s right? Am I the only woman that can’t remember what her husband looks like?’

  I tried to reassure her. ‘You’ll be all right, Minnie. You’re bound to have these worries after all these years and I don’t think you’re alone with having these feelings but, once Peter comes home, you and wee Peter will be so glad to see him that your worries will disappear.’

  She nodded but didn’t look convinced.

  Then all this euphoria evaporated when the papers started to report the latest weapon from Germany – the V-1 flying bomb, nicknamed the buzz bomb or the doodlebug. These terrible weapons, which crashed when they ran out of fuel, were being unleashed all over the south of England and London, bringing terror to cities and the countryside alike. Everything that lay under the flight path of these pilot-less planes was at risk of destruction and this corridor was called ‘Bomb Alley’.

  Joe knew all about them. ‘You’re safe if you can hear its engine but, when the noise stops, it just crashes down on the streets full of folk or on houses, hospitals and schools. It’s terrible and I just hope this doesn’t turn the war in favour of the Germans again.’

  Connie was distressed, as I was. ‘That’s barbaric, Joe. Imagine going to school or your work one day and one of these doodlebugs falls out of the sky. I can well imagine the terror it brings to folk living under its flight path.’

  In spite of myself, I couldn’t stop shivering.

  Joe said, ‘Well, it’s one blessing of living so far north – the buzz bombs will never reach us.’

  I heard myself saying something and I realised it was a little prayer of thanks at this huge blessing.

  Then, at the end of June, I got a letter from Greg – actually it was more of a note than a proper letter but its contents were distressing:

  You remember the girl I wrote about last year Ann? Well we plan to get married soon. I wanted to tell you myself and not let you hear it from someone else. I had hoped to hear from you but as you never answered my last two letters I can only hope you are well, as are Lily and Granny and Rosie, Jay and your Dad and also Maddie and Daniel.

  Regards, Greg

  Well, that’s that, I thought. Greg was now a million miles away from me and soon to marry another woman. I hurriedly sent off an answer – one as terse as his letter had been.

  Congratulations on your forthcoming marriage. Best wishes to you both for the future. Lily and Granny also send their good wishes.

  Ann

  Actually the last bit had been a white lie because I hadn’t told either Granny or Lily this news and, in fact, I was in two minds whether to tell anyone.

  After posting the letter I sat by the window and looked at the river. A scene that always made me feel calm but, on this particular occasion, my mind was in a turmoil. Greg hadn’t mentioned a date for his wedding but it had to be soon, I thought. I couldn’t imagine him writing to tell me of this event if it was to take place in the far distant future. I reckoned the nuptials would take place within a month or maybe even earlier and I inwardly dreaded living through the next few weeks. It would be on my mind all the time – I just knew it.

  Another problem was the looming school holidays and I would have to put on a brave face for Lily’s sake. She had been at the secondary school for almost a year and I often wondered where the time went. Days seemed to merge into one another. It was as if we were all holding our breath, waiting for something to happen. Then in July it did. Alice, Rosie’s mum, fell down the stairs and fractured her ankle. Granny had sent for the doctor and Alice was now lying on the couch with her ankle in a white stookie plaster. Rosie was spending her days between the Overgate and the Hilltown and Granny and I did what we could to help.

  I was in the shop a week later when Rosie rushed in, her face flushed red and her hair uncombed.

  We were taken aback but, before I could speak, Connie said, ‘What’s the matter, Rosie?’

  ‘Ann, can you come up and look at Jay? He’s not well and I’m really worried about him.’

  Connie nodded to me to go and I followed Rosie up the hill.

  ‘What’s the matter with him, Rosie? Has he been sick?’

  She was almost crying. ‘No, he’s lying on the floor and he looks terrible. My neighbour next door is looking after him until I got you.’

  By now I was really worried. It didn’t sound like Jay. He was normally so full of life and mischief and running around with his wooden train. Thankfully, we soon reached the door and I saw the neighbour kneeling on the floor beside him. She was a small elderly woman with a thin face and
sharp dark eyes.

  When we entered, she stood up. ‘I think your bairn has the measles, Rosie.’

  Rosie was upset. ‘But I don’t see any spots on him, Ina.’

  Jay was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and short trousers. Ina lifted his arm and we saw the telltale spots on the inside of his arm. Ina left and I helped Rosie lift Jay’s floppy little body on to her lap while I went to fetch his pyjamas from the bedroom. By now, the red spots were all over his back and he opened his eyes and cried.

  ‘I’ll go and get the doctor, Rosie. I’ll use Connie’s phone.’

  I hurried back to the shop and told Connie the news. Thankfully, she had a telephone in her flat and this had proved to be such a lifeline over the years.

  Doctor Bryson appeared an hour later and confirmed Ina’s diagnosis – it was measles. By now, Jay was in his bed in the room I used to share with Lily. The sun was streaming in through the small window.

  The doctor immediately pulled the curtains shut and, because they were blackout curtains, the room was almost plunged into darkness. ‘You must keep the light from coming in this room,’ he said. ‘Measles can sometimes cause complications and the eyes are one thing you must keep protected. Keep him in this dark room until he feels better. Also, if you take him into the kitchen, keep the gas lamp shaded.’

  Rosie was beside herself with worry. ‘What complications, Doctor?’

  He closed his bag with a loud snap. ‘Measles is part of growing up, Mrs Neill – a childhood complaint that the majority of children recover from but, now and again, a few children get eye and ear complications from the disease. Also don’t let other children in the house as it’s highly contagious.’

  Rosie was appalled. ‘We were at the park this morning, Doctor, and there was lots of children playing on the swings.’

  The doctor smiled. ‘That can’t be helped. It’s difficult to protect children from these infectious diseases. Your little boy caught it from someone.’ On that note he left.

 

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