Her dark eyes seemed to bore into mine. ‘Mind what I told you, Ann. Watch your step. You’re in great danger.’
I was speechless. Surely my near accident on tramcar stairs was what her warning was about but it now seemed as if I still had to watch my step.
She took my hand. ‘Mind, now, mind what I said.’
There was one thing I couldn’t understand. There was Kathleen with all her problems and Ma was busy warning me.
‘What about Kathleen, Ma? I’m worried about her. Will she be all right?’
She seemed to give this some thought but, when she spoke, her eyes didn’t meet mine. ‘Ah, Kathleen …’
I waited for the rest of the statement but that was all she said. Her face resumed the inscrutable look that I recognised and I realised I would get nothing more from her.
Granny was full of the gossip as we made our way back home. ‘That was a great afternoon, Ann. I fair enjoyed myself with Ma and Kit. Did you enjoy yourself Lily?’
Lily nodded. ‘I just wish I could hear all the grown-up talk though. I aye seem to end up with Kitty.’ She pulled herself up to her full five foot two inches. ‘I am grown-up now, Ann.’
With a shock, I realised she was.
My mind was full of thoughts of Kathleen and Chris. I knew they would only have a short time together while Kitty was at school but that didn’t settle my mind.
Still, I had my own problems with working, shopping and doing Granny’s chores. I also did her shopping and washing which took up quite a lot of time but most women had this problem. The queues at the shops seemed to grow longer with each passing day and we all lived in hope of the war ending soon.
Then, in December, Joe arrived at the shop full of woe. ‘I see the Jerries have surrounded the Allies at Ardennes. Their armies have taken the same route that they used in 1940 and I only hope they don’t cause another Dunkirk.’
Connie and I were worried. She said, ‘Surely the war will be over soon, Joe. I mean the Allies are in Europe and the German Army will be defeated.’
Joe seemed unsure. ‘Well, Connie, we were in Europe in 1940 and look what happened there. The Jerries are sly buggers. They have this pincer movement and they come round and behind the Allies’ front lines.’
I suddenly thought of Kathleen. Would this setback please her? The fact that Sammy would still be a prisoner of war? No, I thought, it wouldn’t please her – not with Danny being in the same boat.
Then, one day, she appeared out of the blue at the shop.
Connie hadn’t seen a lot of her but she was also enchanted by her loveliness. ‘That’s a braw-looking lassie,’ she said later.
Kathleen hoped I was nearly finished at work and I was – just finishing off a few small last-minute jobs. Afterwards, we walked down the Hilltown, her arm through mine.
‘Oh, I’ve got to tell someone about my day out with Chris. I’m almost bursting at the memory of it!’ she said, her red hair streaming out behind her as she turned her head and her eyes glowing.
It seemed I was to be her confidante. ‘How did it go Kathleen?’
She squeezed my arm. ‘Oh, Ann, it was wonderful. We went for a wee run up the coast road – not too far because of the petrol. Because we weren’t sure about getting a meal somewhere, we took a picnic and ate it in a lovely sandy cove overlooking the sea. It was so romantic.’
I was pleased for her and she seemed to glow with health and beauty. She was like the sun beside my pale and dismal moon.
‘Is he away back to London?’
‘Aye, he is. He’s got a small flat on the outskirts of London but he was saying that the city has been terribly damaged by bombs dropped during the Blitz and also the buzz bombs. And it’s not just London but lots of other cities as well. He was saying we’re lucky in Dundee not to have been bombed as well.’
‘Is he employed by Pathé News, Kathleen?’
She shook her head. ‘He works for them but he’s a freelance photographer. He takes loads of pictures and sells them. And he’s had photos in the Picture Post. He was saying, when the war is over, he’s going to take a picture of me for the Picture Post.’
I was impressed. The Picture Post was one of my favourite papers and I had no doubt in my mind that Kathleen would make a stunning model. I told her so.
‘Of course,’ she said wistfully, ‘it’ll be after this war is over – whenever that’ll be.’
I left her at the tram stop. ‘I must get back and pick Kitty up from the school. I’m just working part-time for Mr Portland at the moment but hopefully I’ll get back to full-time soon – when the war is over.’
But, by Christmas, the Battle of the Bulge, as it was called, was still raging on and we all wondered what lay in store. The optimism that had sprung up on D-Day was still evident but it was slowly eroding as time went by. With the never-ending queues for food and other essential things, the euphoric mood was beginning to evaporate like an ice field on the equator.
Meanwhile, Rosie, Maddie and Minnie all tried to put on a brave face for their children’s sake at Christmas.
Joy, who was at the High School, invited Lily over during the school holidays. They sat for ages discussing their futures. ‘We can go to art school in Glasgow, Lily, and be famous artists,’ said Joy matter-of-factly.
Lily, her eyes bright with enthusiasm, agreed. ‘Oh, aye. We’ll be the best artists that there’s been for years and years.’
One dark spot during this time was Hattie’s relationship with Graham. I couldn’t help but compare this Christmas to the one last year – the one when Hattie, her face flushed and with a bright-eyed look, had confided in me her hopes of a proposal from Graham. What had gone wrong? I wondered. But Hattie had made it quite clear that nothing else was to be said on the subject. Then it turned out that Graham was to be absent this Christmas.
I had debated about telling the family about Greg, wondering when the right moment would come. Perhaps it was cowardice on my part that I hadn’t mentioned it earlier but, before Christmas, I decided to come clean on my engagement. Granny and Lily were together when I spoke. ‘I have to tell you both that Greg and I are no longer engaged. In fact, he’ll be married to someone else by now but he didn’t mention the date so I’m not sure what the situation is.’
Granny was shocked and Lily burst into tears.
‘It’s all right, Lily – these things happen when couples are apart and we’re all living in strange times,’ I said as I tried to comfort her, adding that I hoped we all had a merry Christmas.
I was kicking myself for choosing this moment to be the bad news messenger but I didn’t want another year to end with this hanging over me. It was just too difficult, what with the family asking me all the news from him and with me having to fob them off with vague platitudes.
Hattie spent Christmas Day with Granny, Lily and me, only leaving for home when Bella arrived in the evening. I didn’t tell Hattie my news as she seemed preoccupied with her own personal cloud and I also said nothing to Bella – I didn’t feel strong enough to share my abandonment with half the community. No doubt the news would leak out as all bad news eventually did but, until then, I wanted to keep it within the close family and Connie and Maddie. I planned to tell Connie the following day and Maddie the next time I saw her.
Granny had asked after Graham but Hattie had been terse, merely saying that he had business in Clydebank. They were, however, going to a dance at the Queen’s Hotel on Boxing Day, she said, fingering the gold brooch which had been a gift from him.
Why, I asked myself, was she so lacklustre? Her hand kept straying to her lovely brooch but I felt her mind wasn’t on this costly gift but somewhere far away. Still, if she didn’t want to confide in me, there was nothing I could do for her – except to say a silent prayer that all would turn out well for them both.
What a worrying world it was where fears for the future mingled with all the domestic problems. I thought about Kathleen and Kitty and then there was Maddie, Minnie and their boys
plus Dad, Rosie and Jay and Granny and Lily. What would become of us all? I tried so hard to shift this jumble of emotions from my mind but it wasn’t easy. Then I remembered the sightings of Margot. Thankfully I hadn’t seen her again so maybe she had moved away again. I hoped for Rosie’s sake that she had.
For some reason Connie wasn’t taken aback by my announcement. This didn’t surprise me as she seemed to read everyone like a book. ‘I knew there was something up,’ she said. ‘But I’m still so very sorry about it all. You didn’t deserve this, Ann.’
When I asked her how she guessed, she said, ‘You stopped speaking about him. Before it was all “Greg said this” or “Greg did that”, then suddenly his name never passed your lips.’
How wise she was, I thought. Not much escaped her sharp eyes or keen ears.
Then, just before Hogmanay, Sylvia, Edith and Amy appeared in the shop for their cigarettes and sweeties. Edith got her sweeties but the other two girls were disappointed because Connie had no cigarettes in the shop.
Sylvia and Amy were desperate. ‘Will there be another shop on the Hilltown with cigarettes, Connie?’ Amy asked.
Connie shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, Amy, but you can aye ask.’
They turned to me. ‘We’re going to the Locarno Dance Hall tonight, Ann. Do you want to join us?’
Before I could say no, Connie butted in. ‘What a great idea, Ann! That’ll be a night out for you. I used to love the dancing in my young days.’
Sylvia said, ‘That’s fine then, Ann. We’ll pick you up at the Overgate, at your granny’s house, and we’ll head for a bit of fun in this awful cigarette-less world.’
All day, I thought of some excuse I could give them when they arrived but Granny didn’t help by echoing Connie’s sentiment. ‘It’ll do you a world of good to have a night out. I’ll look after Lily for you.’
So I had no choice but to get dressed in my best frock which was a flower-sprigged cotton summer creation. I was a bit cold for wearing this thin dress but I planned to wear my thick tweed coat and woollen scarf.
The girls arrived a few minutes later and they chatted to Granny. Amy said, ‘We sometimes go the Progie on a Saturday night but there’s no dancing there this week.’
I was thankful for small mercies. The Progress Hall on the Hilltown was actually a church hall I thought but dances were held there on a Saturday. I had never been inside so perhaps I shouldn’t act like some critic but, on one occasion, when I had been passing, a very drunk man, with a cap on his head and a Sporting Post newspaper in his back pocket, had staggered out in front of me. He tried to dance with me and, when I backed away, he proceeded to dance with himself, prancing up and down the pavement and swaying in between people who were out for a walk or heading to the chip shop. It had been very funny at the time but I didn’t relish the thought of being cooped up with a crowd of like-minded dancers.
Sylvia was speaking. ‘But we like any dance hall, Mrs Neill. They’re usually aye packed with eligible men and there’s a lot of Polish men about.’
I could see Granny was regretting her earlier enthusiasm for my night out but I had no option but to make my way towards Lochee Road and the Locarno Dance Hall. I tried hard to match Sylvia and Amy’s high spirits but I felt I had more in common with Edith who was always the quiet one in this trio.
Amy laughed as we headed along the road. ‘We’ll find you a click tonight, Ann. The place will be heaving with servicemen. You’ll be able to take your pick.’
Wonderful, I thought sourly, but I smiled at her. After all, they were only trying to make me enjoy my life more. No doubt they had heard about Greg and I breaking up – not that it was common knowledge but young girls like themselves usually heard all the news through the local gossips.
We soon reached the Locarno and I was a bit disappointed by its outward appearance. There was nothing flashy about it but then we still had the blackout restrictions which meant all buildings looked the same in the dark. Inside, however, was another matter. The interior was full of people, the noise was deafening and there was the acrid smell of cigarette smoke.
Amy laughed. ‘I see some folk have managed to get cigarettes, Sylvia. Maybe we can cadge some from the soldiers.’
She saw the look on my face and laughed. ‘Just kidding, Ann.’
Edith whispered in my ear, ‘That’s what she says.’
We deposited our coats and scarves in the cloakroom. Amy took out her small powder compact and put a thick layer of creamy-coloured powder all over her face. She had good skin and I felt this addition was unnecessary but it made her feel grown up, she said. Pleased with this adornment she then dabbed some Californian Poppy scent behind her ears and handed the small bottle to Sylvia who did the same.
They then handed the bottle to me. ‘Try some of this, Ann. It’s supposed to make you irresistible to men. They seemingly love its smell.’
Amy laughed loudly and inspected her face in the mirror. She took out a small case of black mascara and spat on the strip of black. She then began to lather it on to her lashes. I dreaded her giving me some of this but she snapped it shut and placed it in her handbag. I could only think she was almost out of her mascara and wanted to keep it for as long as possible.
With both girls now pleased with their faces, we emerged into the dance hall. The cigarette smoke was really thick in there and blue spirals of smoke danced upwards towards the ceiling, looking slightly fluorescent in the coloured lights.
The band was loud and the floor was crowded. Sylvia gripped my arm and Edith followed. ‘Come on, let’s stand over there.’ She indicated a part of the floor that seemed to hold a hundred dancers.
I felt myself being propelled by the throng of humanity. There was a strange mixture of smells – talcum powder, cheap scent and carbolic soap all vying to be chief aroma.
I tried to get into the spirit of the evening but there were just too many people in this small arena and the smoke was making my eyes sting. I knew I had to escape but how? Then I saw two ruddy-cheeked men coming towards us and Sylvia and Amy gave a squeal of delight.
‘It’s Vlad and Slav,’ said Amy, turning towards me. ‘That’s not their names but that’s what we call them. They’re Polish and such a good laugh.’
Looking at their round, ruddy-cheeked faces, I didn’t doubt it but a good laugh was a million miles away from my thoughts and I wondered if I would ever laugh again.
As the two girls went off to dance with their Polish friends, I squeezed through the crowd and went to the cloakroom. As I retrieved my coat, the attendant gave me a puzzled look but said nothing.
Outside, I took in large breaths of cold fresh air. Suddenly I was aware that someone was standing beside me and a feeling of panic gripped me. I felt my throat constrict like someone had grabbed me in a throttle-hold. Was it one of the ruddy-faced men? To my relief, I saw it was Edith. She was wearing her coat as well.
‘Oh, Edith, there’s no need to come outside with me. It was just the smoke – I couldn’t stand it.’
She tucked her arm in mine. ‘It’s not just that, Ann, is it? You still miss your friend, Greg.’
I thought how perceptive she was. ‘Yes, I do, Edith. It’s not that I’ve anything against the dance hall and maybe, in a few months when I get over him, I’ll enjoy coming here – but not tonight.’
She laughed. ‘Och, I don’t think so, Ann. I’ve never enjoyed coming here – ever! It’s just that Sylvia and Amy enjoy it so much that I come along with them. But they’re both sociable girls and they love to laugh and dance and sing and, to be honest, I envy them but it’s not me. I don’t think I’ll be coming back either and I’ve told them. They did say they understood but Vlad and Slav hurried them on to the dance floor again so they’ve probably forgotten all about us …’ She smiled. ‘With a bit of luck!’
We walked back in companionable silence until we reached the tram stop in Tay Street. I stood with Edith until we saw the tram coming around the curve from Westport.
/> ‘We’ll be a couple of old maids at this rate, Edith, if we don’t go out and enjoy ourselves. Granny always said no one ever got a man by sitting at the fire knitting.’
‘At least we’re true to our natures, Ann – you and me. And what’s wrong with knitting? I love to knit.’
She waved from the misted-up windows and I slowly retraced my steps to the Overgate. Then I thought of all the explanations I would have to give Granny and Lily if I went home at this time so I set off for Roseangle.
It was a crisp, clear night but very cold. The stars were so bright that I felt I could reach up and touch them. It wasn’t as dark as I first thought. Some subdued lights were now being allowed on the tramcars, now that the threat of invasion was over. The entrance to the close, however, was in total darkness. I was halfway up the stairs when a dark shape loomed down on me.
Without thinking, I gave a muffled scream and a deep masculine voice said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten to you, lass. I’m looking for Wullie Burnett’s house. Do you know where he lives?’
My voice came out in a terrified squeak which made me feel ashamed of myself. ‘No, I don’t know him – sorry.’
‘I’ll try the next close and sorry again for frightening you.’ Then he was gone.
I reached the flat but didn’t pull the curtains. The river glinted like a silver ribbon and the silence was therapeutic after the clamorous noises of the Locarno and the terror of the last few moments.
This was Ma Ryan’s fault, I thought grimly. Her warning of danger had made me terrified of every little fright – her insistence to watch my step. Then I began to worry again. Where had the man come from? Had he shone a torch on all the nameplates in order to search for his friend? Or was his mission a criminal one? A burglar or worse?
I hurried to the door but the lock was fully in place. I glanced out of the window and saw him walking up the street with another man. I breathed a sigh of relief. He had found Wullie Burnett by the look of it.
The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow Page 17