Connie said that an irretrievable step towards the destruction of the world had been taken – words that made my heart grow cold. What kind of a place would it be for Lily and all the children growing up in this new peaceful world? What on earth would they inherit?
The atom bomb was on everyone’s lips. People had seen the suffering of people as portrayed in the papers and on the cinema newsreels. I always thought of Chris Portland when watching these. Was he still taking photographs of all the devastated cities both here and abroad?
I hadn’t seen Kathleen for some time and I promised myself I would visit her soon. The food queues seemed to grow longer and the potato shortage earlier in the year hadn’t helped the housewife’s constant quest to make healthy, tasty meals from hardly anything.
People had grown used to queuing during the war but now that it was over, folk thought the rations should be scrapped. The faces in the daily queues got longer and more disgruntled as the summer wore on. The women stood with empty baskets and were grateful for a couple of slices of corned beef along with their meat ration. One small consolation was the increase in the tea ration from two ounces to two and a half ounces.
There was still no sign of Danny or Peter. And, thankfully as far as Kathleen was concerned, Sammy was also in the vast throng of soldiers waiting for their release day. Servicemen were being demobbed every week and they arrived at the railway stations, wearing their new dark, pinstriped suits. Granny said they looked like the American gangsters we saw in the films at our weekly visit to the pictures.
Maddie was becoming downhearted. After the euphoria of VE Day and the victory party at her house that was now becoming a distant memory, the days passed in a blur of waiting. All over the country, families were being reunited but not, it seemed, in our small corner of the world.
Then, at the end of September, Peter arrived in his gangster suit to be reunited with Minnie and his son. She came to see us the next morning with her news. Seemingly, Peter had gone to Clydebank and found the whole area demolished. ‘Luckily he met our old neighbours – the couple who made us go to the shelter the night of the bombing – and they told him we had come back to Dundee to live.’ She sounded out of breath with all her rushing around to spread the good news. ‘Peter says it’s quite all right to work in the Dundee branch of Lipton’s but he’s hoping for another transfer in a year or so. When I mentioned my mother’s interference, he said he would sort it out.’
I was so pleased for her and I knew Peter would be glad to be home at last from the horrors of the war.
Granny said, ‘Have your old neighbours got a house in Clydebank, Minnie?’
She nodded. ‘Aye they were lucky and managed to get another place but there’s loads of folk still homeless.’ She turned her face and she looked so happy that I almost cried. ‘Oh, we’re so happy to have him back – Peter and me. His dad said they would go to the next football game and do lots of things together to make up for all the lost years.’
On that ecstatic note she hurried towards the door but, before she reached it, she said, ‘I really hope Danny will be home soon, Ann. Maddie is getting very worried, isn’t she?’
I nodded unhappily. Maddie had convinced herself that something had happened to Danny. Had he succumbed to his wounds? she asked. After all, as she said, no more word had reached her after that initial letter saying he was in hospital and would end up in a prisoner of war camp.
So the flat at Roseangle lay empty and forlorn and she often said that we should have stayed longer and not be cramped into the small space at the Overgate.
The city certainly had a festive air as married couples headed for the town centre every Saturday morning and the cinema was once again packed with couples – both married and courting. Still, 1945 was a strange year with not everyone celebrating the end of the war. Lots of families had lost loved ones on the battlefields or in the bombing and they mourned while the rest rejoiced.
Personally I mourned not the dead but the living. Greg. I often wondered where he was and what his wife looked like but usually these remembrances led me to despair so I tried hard not to think of him too much. But the mind has a life of its own and I found little things or certain places triggered my memory so I decided to throw myself into my work and looking after Lily. I tried not to allow myself the luxury of mourning a lost love.
Another blot on my horizon was the lack of housing and I had been unsuccessful in finding another home. But then so had a thousand other families.
One night, Bella arrived and she was moaning. ‘I’ve got squatters in my close.’
Granny was surprised and so was I. ‘How can squatters live in a house if folk are already in it?’ she asked.
‘Well, the old wife up the stairs died suddenly and the minute the house was empty and before the key could be handed back to the factor, squatters moved in. Mind you, they’re a nice young family but, as they were homeless, they said they had no option but to break the law.’
I was a bit annoyed although I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want Granny to be upset at my obsession with finding new accommodation. Why hadn’t Bella warned me about the empty house? Then I realised it didn’t matter because the squatters were now in residence and the poor old woman was hardly cold in her grave.
Bella was still harping on about the horrors of homelessness – as if I didn’t know it myself.
‘The police say they will evict them but the man said he fought in the war and now they have no place to stay. “It’s a bloody disgrace”, he told them. They originally lived in Dundee before moving to the west coast but their house was bombed and they’ve nowhere else to go.’
‘I’ve heard that Dundee Corporation are planning to build prefabricated houses,’ said Granny.
We had all heard that but there was no definite date set for their construction, at least not to our knowledge.
Granny and I had taken down the blackout curtain at the end of May so she now decided to use some of her coupons on a new pair of curtains. ‘It’ll cheer us up when the nights draw in. We’ll be fine and cosy, sitting listening to the wireless. We can shut out the winter weather.’
As it was only October, she was certainly looking ahead but we spent the following Saturday afternoon at Cyril’s curtain shop in the Westport. He didn’t have a huge selection. ‘The war might be over, missus,’ he said, ‘but everything’s in short supply. I was reading that Churchill hasn’t the money to buy extra food because all the commodities are bought by the mighty dollar and this country doesn’t have enough dollars. And the countries in Europe have so many starving people that America is concentrating on feeding them. They are also trying to save the lives of the concentration inmates with all the milk that’s available. Still, there are some that can’t be saved, the poor souls.’
We only came in for some curtain material, I thought with amusement, and now we were leaving with a potted history of the world. Still, it was true what he said about the starving millions in war-ravaged Europe. Some church groups in Scotland were organising food parcels to send to these poor people. Maddie and her mother knew someone who was organising these supplies to be sent away and I had given her a few precious tins from my small store cupboard. We didn’t have that much to eat but we weren’t starving – not like the poor inmates of the horrendous concentration camps. It was unthinkable what fiends could do to fellow human beings – not to mention the huge populations of the Netherlands and other countries under the heel of the Nazi regime.
Granny spotted some dark maroon chenille material lying at the back of the shelves.
Cyril, if that was his name, extricated the roll with a great deal of huffing and puffing. ‘Oh, aye, missus, you’ve got a great eye for lovely material. This is left over from the days before the war but there’s not much left. That’s why it’s back here but for your wee windows it’ll be fine.’
Granny’s windows weren’t actually that small but, because the curtains only came down as far as the sink and the coal bunke
r, this amount left over from before the war would be sufficient.
Granny was pleased with her purchase and she set off for the house while Lily and I walked towards the High Street. The shop windows were still pretty bare but at least we had the feeling that the land of plenty wasn’t too far away so, for the moment, we were content to dream.
We were passing the La Scala cinema when we met Kit, Kathleen and Kitty and they weren’t looking very pleased although Kit smiled when she saw us.
‘Is there something wrong, Kit?’ I asked. ‘You all look down in the dumps.’
Before Kit could answer, Kathleen piped up. ‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Ann – Sammy is back.’
I was surprised. ‘When did he get home?’ I asked lamely.
‘Oh, just the other day,’ snapped Kathleen. ‘But Maggie is running around looking for somewhere for us to live. She’s shouting all over Atholl Street that it’s not right for a married man to be biding with his mother while I’m biding with mine.’
I noticed Kit was holding on to Kitty’s hand and she stayed quiet.
‘Well, one thing’s for sure, Kathleen, houses are thin on the ground at the moment and Maggie will be lucky if she finds one,’ I said.
Kathleen grinned. ‘Thank the lord for that.’
I was curious about Sammy. ‘Did he say anything about Danny? I mean were they in the same camp?’
She shook her head sadly. ‘He said they were in the same hospital after Dunkirk but Sammy says he was taken away to a prisoner of war camp while Danny stayed at the hospital. He was very badly injured and Sammy never saw him again. Now he’s strutting around like some big war hero. Telling all the stupid lassies what a big man he was in the war. They hang on his every word but he’s just a toerag as far as I’m concerned.’
Before they left, Kit said, ‘You must come and visit us at Lochee. We’re all very worried about Danny – especially when every other serviceman seems to be getting demobbed.’
I said we would go and visit the next day, Sunday. Although I put on a smile as I left them, I felt miserable with worry. Why wasn’t Danny home? Sammy the toerag was back and I thought, not for the first time, what an unfair world it was.
I dreaded meeting Maddie these days. She had an air of desperation and I knew her parents were worried about her and Daniel. Maddie kept telling him about his daddy coming home and he was becoming confused by it all. Every time Maddie mentioned his daddy, Daniel expected him to appear like a magician’s rabbit. And, of course, when he didn’t, he got upset.
I knew Mrs Pringle had enlisted the aid of the Red Cross in trying to trace Danny’s whereabouts but, so far, they had been unsuccessful. The whole of Europe was in a chaotic mess and families had been separated by the fighting. Entire cities had been devastated and Connie and I were heartbroken by the sight of so many people picking over the ruins of their homes. So much for Hitler’s dream of a thousand years of the Reich.
It was quite a blessing to get back to domestic chores and, on the Saturday afternoon, Granny and I sewed the curtains on Alice’s treadle sewing machine. Afterwards, I stood on the bunker and hung them from the curtain pole.
Granny stood in the middle of the room and supervised until I got them to her liking. ‘That’s great, Ann. They look really cosy and rich looking and they make the room seem warmer somehow.’
Because of the coal rationing, this was a bonus. Keeping the fire burning was becoming a difficult task.
‘I wonder when the government will take things off the ration?’ she asked. ‘Surely it’ll not go on forever?’
I wasn’t so sure. Judging by the comments from the women in the queues and the shopkeepers, things could be very black for some considerable time.
The next day, Lily and I set off for Lochee, leaving Granny and Alice admiring the new curtains. It was a cold blustery day and, as the tramcar passed Dudhope Park, we could see autumn leaves lying in great mounds on the paths and grass edges. It would soon be winter, I thought sadly. Another year was almost over and still the same old problems persisted, plus the new big one – Danny. I made a mental note to try and speak to Ma Ryan – maybe she could shed some light on Danny’s non-appearance – but, when we reached Kit’s house, Maggie was there. Standing in a dowdy-looking frock with the flour-streaked apron tied like a sack around her thin waist.
Kitty wasn’t there but Kathleen was getting the rough edge of Maggie’s tongue. ‘You can aye come and bide with us. After all, a wife’s place is with her husband and Sammy is getting fed up living on his own without his family.’
Kit swept past her to come and speak to us while Maggie resumed her tirade. ‘If you don’t want to bide with us then Sammy can come and live here with you and your parents.’
‘Heaven forbid,’ whispered Kit and I had to give Lily a sharp glance when I heard her muffled laugh.
Kathleen, however, was having none of this happy-family togetherness. ‘Maggie, I’m telling you for the last time. I’m not going back to your son – not now or ever.’
Maggie was outraged. ‘Your man was away in the war fighting for you and his country and this is the thanks he gets? A wife that’ll not bide with him the minute he’s back from the horrors of the war. You’re a fine wife, I can say.’
Kathleen was stung by this rebuke and she turned away to look at her mother.
Kit was also annoyed. ‘Don’t give us all that war hero stuff, Maggie,’ she said, with a dangerous sharp edge to her voice. ‘Your Sammy spent the war sitting on his arse in a prisoner of war camp. Although it wasn’t a pleasant experience, I bet there wasn’t a great deal of fighting going on in there.’
Maggie opened her mouth to reply then thought better of it. She stomped from the room and we heard her clattering away down the stone steps.
Kathleen burst out laughing. ‘That’s telling her, Mum!’
Kit gave her daughter a stern look. ‘No, that’s not telling her, Kathleen. I’ve said it before – you are a married woman and Maggie is quite right in pressing you to return to your husband. You should never have married him in the first place.’
Kathleen elegantly shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘I know. It was the biggest mistake of my life.’
‘Well, what are you going to do about it?’ asked Kit.
‘Just live from day to day, Mum. There’s no room at Maggie’s house for Kitty and me and it’s the same here. As long as this situation lasts, then it’ll give me some breathing space.’
We sat with our cups of tea with me hoping Ma would put in her usual appearance but I was to be disappointed. Kit said she always kept away from Maggie and Kathleen’s problems. Given Ma’s talent for seeing into the future, I thought this was strange but Kit always said that Ma never gave any advice to the members of the family. If she did sense something bad, then perhaps she would say something – otherwise she liked to stay silent.
I mentioned Danny and Kit’s face clouded over. I said, ‘I just wish he would come home soon, Kit – mainly for Maddie and Daniel’s sakes but also for us as well. It’s such a worry wondering what’s happened to him and I imagine all the worst things possible.’
Kit nodded. ‘Aye, so do I.’
We then spoke about the scarcity of houses. Maybe this worked in Kathleen’s favour but Lily and I were outgrowing Granny’s house. Another thing was that Granny liked to have the place to herself – just as I liked having my own corner.
Kit was lamenting about the rationing still being in existence. ‘I could swear things are getting scarcer, Ann. And we’re not getting as much for our coupons. George and Patty are working hard and they’re aye hungry when they come in at night. Thank goodness the bread’s not rationed although I have to say it’s a queer grey colour, isn’t it?’
I agreed but thankfully a few slices helped to fill an empty stomach. Then it was time to go home. We had chewed over the inequalities of life and found there was nothing we could do to change things or plan new recipes on the small rations allowed. However, it was good to h
ave a moan.
That night I had a vivid dream about Danny. Maybe it was because we had been talking about him and he was on my mind but, whatever the reason, the dream was disturbing. We were in this austere-looking building and he had a white bandage around his leg. He held out his hand to me but, as I approached him, he disappeared and was replaced with a heap of rubble. It was so alarming and became even more so in the morning when I recalled it clearly.
Connie and Joe were still talking about the atom bomb when I appeared in the shop and I wished they would talk about something a bit more cheerful. ‘You mark my words, Connie,’ said Joe, ‘this atom bomb will keep folk like the Jerries and the Japs in their place in the future. They’ll be too frightened to start another war in case the Americans drop another mushroom cloud on them.’
Oh, yes, I thought, civilisation had come a long way from the Stone Age. Or had it? After all, we were still killing people but instead of clubs we were now bombarding whole cities with an atom bomb and all because some genius of a scientist had managed to spit the atom – something that had been regarded as impossible. Why couldn’t some scientist invent food to feed the starving masses or make instant homes to house the homeless? Now that would have been a challenge worthy of a Nobel Prize.
When I got home from the shop, Maddie and Daniel were waiting for me. I could see by her face that there was still no news of Danny.
‘We’re trying the Red Cross records but nothing has turned up. It’s getting to be very worrying – especially since Sammy Malloy has been demobbed from the prisoner of war camp.’
I tried to cheer her up. ‘Aye, Maddie, but Sammy wasn’t in the same place as Danny and I believe him when he says he’s no idea where they took Danny after his stay in hospital. Sammy has been demobbed because his camp was liberated by the Allies just after VE Day.’
The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow Page 19