The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow

by Maureen Reynolds

  My heart stopped thudding and I sat looking at the river, my mind reviewing the night’s events. Why was I such a strange and lonely person? Most women would have given a lot to have a good night out with their friends. For months, I had tried so hard to put all thoughts of Greg from my mind but, on this beautiful cold night, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was probably married by now and good luck to him, I thought bitterly.

  Memories from past years invaded my mind and I recalled how happy I had been. But had he been happy? Obviously not. Although, I knew now that it couldn’t have been easy for him to try and inhabit my crowded and worried world. A wave of self-pity engulfed me and I burst into a flood of tears, laying my head in my arms and completely shutting out the view of the river.

  Much later, I made my way back to the Overgate. I had bathed my red puffy eyes in cold water before leaving the flat but although Granny noticed them she didn’t say a word.

  ‘Oh, my eyes are all red from the smoke at the dancing, Granny, but I really enjoyed myself. What a good laugh we all had.’

  Granny smiled and said nothing but I knew she didn’t believe me. She wasn’t daft.

  13

  The war was almost over. Joe kept us informed every day, much to Connie’s amusement. ‘That man thinks we never read the newspapers,’ she said one day.

  ‘Aye, the turning point was beating the Jerries at the Battle of the Bulge. Now the Allies have crossed the Rhine and are almost in Berlin. But the Russians are hoping to take the city before the Allies.’

  This was wonderful news and we all rejoiced in it. Peace was at last being predicted for the not-so-distant future. Maddie was almost beside herself with joy at the thought of Danny’s home-coming and we were all looking forward to welcoming him home again after all these years.

  One worry lay on my horizon – the house at Roseangle. Now that the war was almost over, I knew Maddie and Danny would resume their life in their own home which meant Lily and I had some serious house-hunting to do. It wasn’t an easy task as there seemed to be no empty houses in the city. Granny said we could stay with her and, although I had mentally rejected this offer, it now looked as if we would have to move to the Overgate.

  Even Connie, who was often a great source of help on lots of things, couldn’t help on this big issue. ‘It must be because of all the folk that have been bombed out of their houses in other parts of the country, Ann. I heard it could be as much as a million homes that have been damaged or destroyed and maybe they’ve all moved to places with little damage.’

  This was disheartening news and it didn’t bode well for the future – not only for us but for all the poor people with no homes left. In fact, the carnage all over Europe was devastating and it seemed as if the entire world had been destroyed. Pictures of people with young children pouring out of bombed cities made my heart ache and I had to stop looking at them.

  Then Mussolini along with his mistress, Clara Petacci, was shot by the Italian partisans. Both were hung up by their heels in front of a jeering crowd.

  Joe was beside himself with this story. ‘I see Mussolini has been shot. It’s the best thing that could have happened to him, the heel-clicking bugger.’ He stopped and gazed at Connie. ‘Mind you, they didn’t have to kill his mistress.’

  To be honest, we were all becoming inured to all the horrors unfolding before our eyes but, a few days later, Joe almost fell into the shop.

  ‘Hitler’s shot himself in his bunker in Berlin.’ Joe seemed to know all about it – almost as if he had been a fly on that same bunker wall. ‘Aye, Eva Braun took poison but Hitler shot himself. Good riddance to him I say.’ He stopped to light his cigarette. ‘And all the poor wee Goebbels kids were also poisoned by their parents. What a dreadful thing to do.’

  Joe had tears in his eyes when he said this and Connie and I were almost crying as well. What other horrors lay ahead of the Allied world? I wondered.

  Then it was all over – at least in Europe. The Far Eastern forces were still fighting the Japanese forces but, here at home, we had peace at last.

  Joe, as usual, was still talking about the carnage. ‘Did you see yon awfy pictures of the concentration camps, Connie? Auschwitz and Belsen?’ He shook his head in dismay. ‘How anybody could do that to another human being is beyond me. The papers are saying that millions of Jews and other folk have been killed in the gas chambers.’ He wiped his eyes and looked so sad. ‘I saw some awfy sights in the trenches during the Great War but this is something far more evil.’

  Connie and I agreed with him. We had both been shocked, as had countless others, by the revelations about the concentration camps and, in fact, there were quite a lot of nights when I couldn’t go to sleep with the images of these atrocities still fresh in my mind.

  Lily and I spent the first week of peacetime unwrapping Maddie and Danny’s wedding gifts from their dark imprisonment in the large trunk which had resided in the lobby cupboard for almost five years. We then spent an energetic couple of hours cleaning the flat and it now shone with all the hard work and furniture polish. We then placed all the ornaments in their original positions and put all the crystal glasses and expensive figurines back into the display cabinet.

  I remade the bed with Maddie’s own bedclothes, gathered all the bed linen and towels and stuffed them into the wicker basket, all ready for the wash-house in the morning. Our small pram lay at the end of the close, in preparation for its job of holding the basket on its way to the wash-house.

  For the last time, Lily and I gazed out the window. The river was bathed in sunshine. Lights glinted from its dappled surface and I knew it was a scene I would never forget, no matter where I lived – now or in the future.

  Lily was quiet as she stood beside me and when I looked at her I was dismayed to see her crying. I put an arm around her shoulder and realised with a pang that she was almost as tall as myself. ‘We’ll come back and see Maddie and Danny. We can aye look at the river then.’

  She wiped her face. ‘But it’ll not be the same, Ann. It’ll not be like when we were living here and had the river all to ourselves. It’ll not be the same.’

  I knew what she meant but it wasn’t our house. Maddie had been very generous in letting us stay so long, especially as it was rent-free but it was now time for her and Danny to return.

  ‘Come on, Lily – time to say cheerio to it.’

  Although I had tried to be practical, I also had a lump in my throat at the thought of saying goodbye to this lovely flat.

  Lily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and gazed wistfully at the room. She whispered, ‘Cheerio, Roseangle. Cheerio, River. I’ll aye remember you.’

  On that sad note we carried the washing downstairs and placed it on our pram. Lily pushed it up the slight slope to the Perth Road and we made our way to the Overgate in silence.

  Granny had made our tea and Lily cheered up. The wireless was playing lively music interspersed with good news.

  Granny said, ‘I’ll have to look for the flags. Alice was saying that we should dress the windows with bunting.’

  This cheered Lily up even more. ‘Can I look for the flags Granny?’

  ‘Of course you can Lily and you can also look for Alice’s flags. She’s got a big trunk in her lobby cupboard, just like me.’

  I was grateful to her for putting a smile on Lily’s face.

  She came over and put the table cover on the wooden table. ‘And what can I do to put a smile on your face, Ann?’

  I gave her a rueful grin. ‘A miracle, I think, Granny.’

  It was a cheery meal. Everything was still rationed but surely, from now on, everything would get easier? We would get our own place and food would be plentiful again – no more coupons and no more ration books.

  The street was abuzz with people out celebrating the peace. The city councillors had put on a variety of events to commemorate VE day and it seemed as if the city was out in force.

  Lily and I went to a couple of events – a stre
et party and a small private party put on by Maddie’s mum. Lots of the streets in the town held their own parties but we went to the one on the Hilltown. We had been asked by Connie who was donating some sandwiches and home-made cakes and what a great day we had with all the children from the top of the Hilltown down to Stirling Street.

  Lily sat beside Rosie and Jay while I helped Connie and some of the women to serve the party fare. Jay’s eyes were large as he surveyed the plates of fairy cakes with their thin trickle of icing but he didn’t want one of the spam sandwiches when the plate was passed around. He wanted a cake with pink icing and Lily plucked one from a plate and handed it to him. He sat gazing at it and, at the end of the party, it was still clutched in his little hand. ‘I’m keeping it for Daddy,’ he said, proudly carrying it home while Rosie looked at him with pleasure.

  ‘Och, you’re a really good boy to think of your Daddy.’

  By now, the cake was squashed out of all recognition and looked nothing like a fairy cake but, later, Dad ate it with his cup of tea – much to Jay’s satisfaction.

  Meanwhile, the party at the Pringle’s house was every bit as enjoyable if somewhat less boisterous. It was held on a cool but sunny Saturday in June. The entire family had been invited – Granny, Bella, Dad, Rosie and Jay as well as Minnie and Peter plus the Lochee crowd.

  We all turned up in high spirits now that the war was over. Minnie said how wonderful it would be if Danny and Peter should turn up at the door – all the way from Europe. But this was reality and not some scene in a picture or a novel.

  Minnie was still a bit doubtful about Peter’s return. ‘The reason Peter took the job in Clydebank was to get away from my mother. She was aye interfering in our marriage so what’s he going to say when he turns up and sees I’m back living near her.’

  Maddie was sympathetic. ‘Oh, I expect he’ll be so glad to see you both safe and well that he’ll not bother about your mother.’

  Minnie didn’t look convinced. ‘It’s not as if it’s easy to get another house. There is nothing to rent in my part of the world – at least not to my knowledge.’

  I agreed with her. ‘I’ve been going round all the factors in the town but they’ve got nothing on their books – well, that’s what they’re saying.’

  When we were on our own, Maddie said, ‘You should have stayed on at Roseangle, Ann – at least for a while longer.’ She sounded upset. ‘Does Minnie have any idea when Peter will be demobbed?’

  I said I didn’t think so. We sat in silence and looked at the river. The sun had gone in and it looked grey and sluggish, almost as if it was going nowhere or, worse, it had nowhere to go – a bit like Lily and me.

  Lily had gone off with Joy the minute we arrived – to paint, they said. Now they reappeared, clutching their sketchbooks close to their chests. Lily was much taller than Joy who had kept her small fragile-looking frame. She had a heart shaped face framed with blonde hair which gave her an angelic appearance – a look that was belied by a stubborn glint in her blue eyes. They came bounding over, eager to show us their pictures.

  Both had painted a river view as seen from the bottom of the garden but I noticed how different their styles of paintings were. Joy had filled her painting with the precise shapes of the houses across the water and also the river. It looked almost like an architectural drawing. It had a colour and preciseness that was pleasing to the eye and both Maddie and her parents loved it.

  Lily, however, had done hers in a freehand style that had vitality and a fluid movement and, although it could have been painted anywhere, we all knew somehow that it was the scene at the bottom of the garden, at the foot of the path that meandered between rows of vegetables that had been planted in place of the flowers of an earlier pre-war age.

  Both girls were obviously talented but I was gratified when Mr Pringle looked at Lily’s painting for a second time and gazed after her as she went into the house with Joy to get a drink.

  Then Hattie came out into the garden with Rosie and Jay. Dad hadn’t managed to come and, because George was ill, Kit and the family hadn’t come either. Rosie was worried that Jay might damage something in the house or in the garden so she kept him near by her and stayed close to Hattie who, with her stern eye, could make him stay quiet. This was a family joke and Bella often said it was this sternness that had kept the gregarious Graham at bay but I never laughed when Bella trotted out this assumption on her visits to the Overgate.

  I somehow knew the situation was more complex. Graham had certainly changed since I first met him – that time when I thought he looked like Arthur Askey. Now he looked haunted and I didn’t know what had caused it and nor, I suspected, did Hattie.

  The sun came out again and Maddie turned her face upwards. ‘What a wonderful feeling it is to feel the sun on your face and know the war is over.’ She gazed over to where Daniel was playing with Peter. Jay had been allowed to join them and they had two large tinplate trucks which they kept filling with earth before transporting it to another patch of earth where they duly tipped their loads on to a giant mound. The boys were grubby but obviously happy.

  Maddie turned away from the sun. ‘Minnie, Peter knew his son before he went away, didn’t he?’

  ‘Aye, he did. He was just a wee bairn then but his father was there.’

  Maddie looked worried. ‘Danny doesn’t know about Daniel – at least I don’t think he does. I wonder how Daniel will be when they meet?’

  Minnie said, ‘Och, he’ll be fine, Maddie. They’ll soon get to know one another.’

  Just then, a cloud passed over the sun and I shivered. Please God, I prayed silently, don’t let anything mar Danny’s homecoming. Thankfully, Mrs Pringle called from the open door to come inside for our tea and we all trooped inside while Maddie, Rosie and Minnie took their boys off to the bathroom to clean them up.

  A long trestle table covered by a couple of white cloths was laid with plates of sandwiches and small cakes were displayed along its length but taking centre stage in the middle was a glass bowl filled with pear slices. As luxuries went, this was the tops. We all gazed at it with wide eyes, wondering who had brought this luxurious item. Mrs Pringle, wiping her hands on her apron, said, ‘I’ve been saving this big tin of pears until the war was over. I bought it in 1940 but I think the pears will taste all right.’

  Granny said, ‘You should have kept them, Mrs Pringle – rationing isn’t over yet.’

  Mrs Pringle laughed. ‘No – we’re eating them today, to celebrate the war’s end.’

  Even though there was just a mouthful for each person, they tasted delicious and three lucky boys all got a bit more. This was a taste from the days before the war and hopefully a taste of things to come.

  We sat and talked of our hopes for the future. How we would spend our time when there were no longer any queues for anything. Oh, the joy, we said. During this happy chatter, my mind drifted off to our homeless state. Granny didn’t really have the room for us now that Lily was growing up and I couldn’t think where else to look for a house.

  I caught sight of Hattie and I realised she was also away in a world of her own and, judging by her expression, these thoughts were similar to my own – uncertain and unhappy. I must have a word with her, I promised myself. Then she saw me looking at her and she gave me such a glare that I cancelled my last thought. Whatever was bothering her was obviously a secret known only to herself. Well, I didn’t blame her. We were all living in worrying times – and for some folk it was worse than for others.

  I gladly turned my attention back to the world of rationing. Mrs Pringle was hoping the shops would now keep food that had long since vanished from the shelves. Foods like butter, jam and real eggs hadn’t really vanished but had been in such short supply that they were severely rationed. However, bananas, apples, oranges and onions had all but disappeared.

  The day was such a success that it was over too soon and we all made our way homewards. Minnie was unhappy. ‘My mother will be moaning about getting
Peter into his bed.’ She looked me straight in the eye. ‘Och, Ann, do you ever wish you were a thousand miles away?’

  I said I did but it didn’t help to wish for the unattainable.

  ‘When Peter gets demobbed, Minnie, you’ll be happy. Maybe Lipton’s will give him another shop to manage – somewhere that hasn’t suffered bomb damage.’

  She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Like the Hilltown or Overgate branch.’

  I didn’t want to lie to her or raise her hopes. ‘Would that be so awful?’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t matter where he worked as long as we could be miles and miles away from my mother but that doesn’t seem likely, does it?’

  There was nothing I could say to that so I sensibly stayed silent. Maybe a miracle would happen, I thought. Peter would get a small branch in some town that had escaped the Luftwaffe’s bombs – a place like … My mind gave up. I wasn’t an expert on the bombing map of Scotland except to know Dundee had been a lucky city. Everyone said so. Maybe other places had also been as fortunate as us.

  Before Minnie left to climb the Hawkhill, Granny said, ‘I know houses are like gold dust, Minnie, but try and get something as far away from your mother as possible.’

  And I’ll take your small poky flat Minnie, I thought. Mrs McFarlane wouldn’t bother me. The afternoon had turned really cool and we were glad to be indoors. I asked Lily to show me her painting again and once more I was struck with its luminous quality.

  ‘Mr Pringle said when he got Joy’s painting framed he would get mine done as well, Ann, and I want you have it.’

  When we got back, Granny went through to see Alice so I knew she wouldn’t hear me. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by talking about another house. ‘We’ll put it on the wall when we get a place of our own,’ I promised her. ‘But, until then, we’ll put it on Granny’s wall.’

  As the summer days progressed from the high hopes of May, it was becoming clear that things weren’t getting better but worse.

  Then, in August, came the news of the Japanese surrender but at a terrible cost. Even Joe was shocked by the dreadful atom bomb devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. He shook his head in dismay when the papers printed the full horror of this terrible new weapon devised by the Americans.