The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow

by Maureen Reynolds

  Lily lay awake. ‘I’ll be really pleased to see the Borlands again, Ann. Are you looking forward to it?’

  My heart sank but I couldn’t let my feeling show. I couldn’t upset Lily now that she was on the home run to the art college.

  ‘Aye, I am, Lily. Let’s hope the weather is a bit warmer though.’

  As it turned out, the weather did improve and it became warm and sunny again. In later years, I was to remember these weeks as a hiatus – a golden time of waiting for Maddie’s twins and Lily and Joy’s eventual departure.

  Lily also viewed this time as a crossroads. She told me she was going to miss the school and all her friends she had made over the years. I also felt there was a slight hesitancy about her going and I knew she was worried about leaving me on my own.

  Then, at the end of June, Granny, Dad, Rosie and I all went to the school to see her getting her leaving certificate. We sat in the large assembly hall with all the other parents and friends, all puffed up with pride as their children walked on to the stage to get their certificates and school prizes.

  Lily looked so grown-up and dignified as she climbed the stairs to shake hands with the headmaster. Then, to our delight, she also received the top prize for art. She hadn’t mentioned this and wanted it to be a surprise for us which it certainly was. But, like all good things, it didn’t last long and it was soon over. I wished I could have held that moment forever – to hold its image in my memory and not let it go. I closed my eyes and tried to savour the moment so I wouldn’t forget it – ever.

  We stood outside in the playground while she said her farewells to her friends, all of them vowing undying friendships. Their young, shrill voices were floating over the hard concrete and echoing against the red stone walls. ‘Keep in touch!’ ‘Please write!’ ‘Here’s my address!’ ‘Write your name in my autograph book!’ ‘Cheerio!’ ‘Cheerio!’ ‘Cheerio!’ ‘Goodbye!’

  I saw Janey, Lily’s friend from primary school days and was struck by how grown-up she had become. Where had all the years gone? I wondered as I remembered them as two nervous five-year-olds not so many moons ago … or so it seemed.

  Granny, dressed in her new blue frock, looked on with a smile. ‘It’s hard to believe she’s grown-up now, Ann. It only seems like yesterday when she was born and now she’s on her way into the big wide world.’

  The memory of that unhappy time was mirrored in her eyes and I felt a lump in my throat. If only Mum could see her now. She would be so proud of how she had turned out.

  Rosie and Dad wiped away a tear from their eyes. He said, ‘I’m glad I came. I thought it would all be academic and highfalutin.’

  Rosie gave his arm a squeeze. ‘She’s a great lassie, Johnny.’

  Alice was going to look after Jay when he came back from school because we had decided to have a celebration tea in Franchi’s restaurant in the Overgate. Lily’s eyes were bright with excitement, especially when we got a table at the window and she was able to look down on all the people passing underneath.

  ‘I can’t believe I’ve left the school,’ she said breathlessly, ‘and, in a few months, I’ll be going to Glasgow with Joy.’

  We all looked at her with affection. At that moment I said a mental prayer, hoping her young life would always be full of love and excitement and adventure.

  Lily scanned the menu and her dark eyes became solemn.

  ‘When it comes to food, Lily always gives it her full attention,’ Granny said and we all laughed.

  Later, after we had all eaten, I asked her, ‘Which painting won the first prize, Lily?’

  We had left her art portfolio at Granny’s house before heading for the restaurant but she bent down and, from her large bag, she brought out a rolled-up tube of paper tied with a white ribbon. She handed it to me and said, ‘This is the winner, Ann.’

  As everyone looked on, I unrolled it. It was a watercolour painting of me and I gasped. Lily had caught me in pensive mood and I looked unworldly. The soft tones seemed to enhance my face and the faraway look in my eyes as I rested my chin on my hand. I looked sad and must have been thinking of Greg, and Lily had caught this moment in time and recreated it forever.

  ‘Oh, it’s beautiful, Ann!’ said Rosie. ‘And it’s just like you when you’re thinking of something.’

  Granny and Dad both said the same thing and I felt tears come to my eyes.

  Lily looked at it with matter-of-fact eyes and said, ‘I wanted to give you something before I left, Ann – to thank you for all you’ve done for me.’

  I wiped the tears from my eyes. ‘Oh, thank you, Lily. It’s the best present I’ve ever had. I’ll get it framed and put it above the fireplace at Roseangle where I can sit and look at it and remember you. And I’ll also remember it won the top art prize at Rockwell.’

  We then all went home after a memorable day.

  Two days later Maddie went into labour. She was admitted to the nursing home at seven o’clock in the morning. A young lad who was a part-time message boy in Danny’s shop arrived at the Hilltown to tell me. Connie was doing the evening papers so, as soon as I finished in the early afternoon, I headed for the Perth Road Nursing Home.

  I only meant to look in for a few minutes to see Danny but he asked me to stay. He couldn’t sit still and I didn’t blame him. Everyone was always saying how giving birth was a natural process but Mum had died giving birth to Lily. But I said to myself that I mustn’t dwell on this tragic event. I had to be positive for Danny’s sake.

  ‘You were here when Daniel was born, Ann. Was Maddie’s labour long then?’

  I thought back to that awful night – of how Maddie had cried and cried for Danny and how she had thought he was dead.

  I nodded. ‘It was, Danny, although I wasn’t actually here during the labour. She came here in the evening and Daniel wasn’t born till the next day.’

  Danny shuddered. He said, ‘Mum was here with Mrs Pringle but they’ve gone home for a wee while and will come back later but I’d like you to stay with me if you can, Ann.’

  I said I would because I knew how worried he was. It was the least I could do.

  The door opened and a nurse came in with a tray. Along with the tea she had placed a small plate of plain biscuits. She apologised for the biscuits. ‘We’re supposed to be getting chocolate biscuits sometime but we never see them,’ she said with a smile.

  This small luxury hadn’t been around on my first visit so things were certainly improving. I looked at the magazines and noticed there were some copies of Picture Post in the pile.

  I said to Danny, ‘Kathleen was telling me that Chris sometimes puts his photographs in this paper. He’s a freelance photographer.’

  Danny nodded. I wondered if he had heard me but it didn’t matter. I was merely making idle chat, hoping to fill this awful void – this waiting to hear of new life.

  The sun dipped behind the trees in the garden and long shadows spread over the well-kept lawn. It would soon be night and Maddie had been in labour since seven o’clock that morning. I wondered if I would be allowed to stay for much longer. Did the waiting room close at night? Or did it remain open at all times?

  I glanced at Danny. He was sitting with his head down, his hands clasped in a white-knuckled grip on his lap. There was nothing I could say to him. After all, what did I know about giving birth? How could I tell him what was happening when I couldn’t even visualise what it entailed? Hattie or Mrs Pringle would have been a better companion for him as at least they were mothers.

  I took one of his hands and he gave me a weak smile.

  ‘Are you hoping for boys? Or girls?’ After I said it, I felt stupid.

  He gave me another weak smile. ‘Oh, Ann, I don’t care – as long as Maddie is fine.’

  By now, the sun had disappeared and the grounds had become mauve with twilight. The nurse came in and pulled the thick curtains over the windows and I felt the entire world was now cut off from us.

  She gave Danny an encouraging smile. ‘Y
our wife is doing fine. It won’t be long now.’

  For the first time since we arrived, Danny looked animated. ‘How long, Nurse.’

  ‘Not long. I’ll let you know as soon as the babies are born.’

  I sat back in my seat and I hadn’t realised I had half risen from it. The clock on the wall ticked loudly and I recalled the one in Rita’s house the day Lily was born and how merrily it had ticked away the final hours of Mum’s life. I had to push these sad memories away. It wouldn’t help Danny if I was to become morose so, with his hand in mine, we sat in silence except for the relentless ticking that marked the passing of time. I watched the clock with a perverse sort of fascination. How slow and ponderous the pendulum looked and yet the hands moved over the clock face in a loud tick, tick.

  Thirty minutes later, the nurse reappeared. ‘You have two baby boys, Mr Ryan.’

  Danny leapt to his feet and, for one giddy moment, I thought he was about to kiss the nurse. Instead he grabbed me and said, ‘Do you hear that, Ann? Two boys!’

  I was so pleased for him and relieved it was all over for Maddie.

  ‘Can I see my wife and the boys?’ asked Danny.

  The nurse said he could but only for a short visit as Mrs Ryan was tired.

  I wasn’t allowed in so I went and stood outside in the purple twilight, smelling the sweet aroma of the flowers and grass and feeling a bit weak in my knees. It had been a long wait.

  Fifteen minutes later, Danny appeared. He looked ecstatic and I could swear his feet weren’t touching the ground.

  ‘Maddie is terribly tired but she’s fine and the two wee boys are lovely. One was five pounds and the other was five pound six ounces.’

  I laughed. ‘No wonder she was like a barrel on legs! She’ll be able to see her feet again.’

  I left him as he hurried home to tell Daniel, the Pringles and Hattie. I quickly went to see Granny before going home, to tell her the good news. I would tell Rosie and Dad the next day. I hated to admit it but I was exhausted too – almost as if I had given birth as well. All I wanted was my bed.

  Lily and I were able to visit Maddie on the Saturday afternoon but only for a short visit as she had so many visitors.

  She was in a room similar to the one she’d had last time but the similarity ended there. After Daniel’s birth, she had been tearful and depressed but, this time, she was almost glowing with pride. The two babies lay in two small cots and they were lovely. I thought Lily would also explode with pride – just like Maddie.

  Maddie said, ‘They normally stay in the nursery but they’ve just been fed.’

  Lily kept peeping into the cots. ‘Och, they’re lovely, Maddie – just like two wee dolls.’

  Maddie laughed. ‘You wouldn’t say that during the night, Lily, when they wake up to be fed.’

  Before I could take another look, a nurse came in and wheeled them out of the room.

  Maddie laughed again. ‘I think the nurses are frightened my visitors will give them leprosy or something equally drastic.’

  ‘Still, it’s better to be safe than sorry, Maddie,’ I said. ‘After all, we could have a bad cold or the ’flu.’

  ‘We’re calling them Patrick and James after both their grandads. I know Daniel has these as middle names but we wanted to have them as Christian names for the twins.’

  ‘Your mum and Hattie will be pleased about that,’ I told her.

  Then it was time to leave but I told Maddie that if she needed any help, she was just to ask.

  ‘Thanks, Ann! You’re such a good friend to me. I don’t know what I would do without you.’

  As we were walking through the grounds towards the main road, we met Hattie with Mr and Mrs Pringle. Coming behind them were Danny and Daniel and they were all hurrying to see the new additions to the families. Daniel looked up at his father and he was laughing at something Danny had said to him. It warmed my heart and we waited a few moments to say hello to them.

  After the jubilation of seeing the babies, a dark cloud settled above me. The cause was a letter in my coat pocket. Babs Borland had written to say how much they were looking forward to seeing us and asking if the second week in July would be suitable for our visit. The very thing I had been dreading for months was now almost upon me and there was nothing I could do about it. Lily was so excited about the visit that she had started to pack her suitcase in anticipation. As for me … well, I was almost crying. How would I get through this visit? Listening to the Borlands telling me all the news of Greg and his wife. And worse – what if she had also given birth?

  Oh, my God, I thought, what could I do?

  Then the answer came in a small voice in my head. The answer was nothing. I would have to grit my teeth, swallow my pride and listen with feigned interest to the married lives of Greg and his wife.

  20

  Lily was darting around the flat like a little bird, packing last-minute things for our journey. She saw me standing by the window.

  ‘Have you packed everything, Ann?’

  Without turning, I nodded.

  She stopped in the middle of the floor. ‘If you don’t want to go, then that’s fine by me, Ann.’ She sounded concerned.

  I turned round and smiled at her. ‘Of course I want to go. What gave you that idea? I was just admiring the view from the window – as always.’

  She came and stood beside me. ‘It is lovely, isn’t it? And it’s all ours.’

  Lily had been so excited when the sale of the flat was finalised. I had one small niggling worry. I couldn’t help thinking about Dad, Rosie and Jay in their small stuffy flat on the Hilltown with its view of pavements and shops. It was not at all like our airy corner with its river views. Still, putting these thoughts aside, I went into the bedroom and carried out my small suitcase and put it on the rug beside the fireplace.

  Lily got up from the chair. ‘Well, are we ready to go, Ann?’

  I nodded again. ‘Yes.’

  Lily gave me a look as if she was puzzled by this monosyllabic response from me so I gave her a smile and made a huge show of picking up my suitcase and handbag – an effort that seemed to reassure her.

  The train station was busy but it was really no wonder – after all, it was July and people were either going off on their summer holidays or just for a day out. The platform was thronged with people and Lily kept looking down the railway tracks as if, by constantly surveying them, the train would somehow magically appear. I recalled with a smile that this was something she had always done. Personally I hoped that the train had maybe broken down between its last station and here but my mental prayer wasn’t answered because it appeared soon after our arrival. It steamed into view like one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Within the next few hours, we would be at Trinafour and the Borlands’ house, making small talk about the various members of both families.

  Lily, however, was full of excitement. She had managed to squeeze in beside a large woman and an equally portly man while I got a seat across from them. Lily winked at me and I had to stifle a laugh as she looked so comical between the two plump people. Then, fortunately for us, two passengers got off at one of the small stations on the line. After that, we were each able to get a window seat and we gazed at the passing scenery on that hot July day.

  ‘I hope the weather stays like this,’ said Lily, fanning her face with a copy of a newspaper. ‘It’ll be great to be in the country if it’s this warm.’

  To be honest, I couldn’t have cared less about the weather. I would just be glad when this ordeal of a weekend was over but I just smiled at her and nodded.

  The train puffed its way past green fields. As it left the industrial landscape behind, much to my amazement, I began to relax. There was something soothing about trees and greenery.

  We had to change trains at Perth and we sat on the platform for thirty minutes until our connection arrived. Then, with a great deal of pushing and shoving of luggage into the overhead compartments and getting a seat again, we were on our way on t
he final stage of the journey.

  Mr Borland was meeting us at Struan station and he would take us the few miles to the farmhouse. Knowing this, it was still a surprise when we reached our destination to see him standing beside a smart grey van.

  Lily ran up to him. ‘You’ve got a new van, Mr Borland. When did you get it?’

  He gave her a smug-looking smile. ‘Just a few weeks ago, Lily, but it’s come in handy for your visit.’

  He took our suitcases. ‘It’s nice to see you again, Ann. You’re looking well.’

  I was surprised. Was I looking well? He wouldn’t have said it if it hadn’t been true.

  He then turned to Lily who had always been a great favourite of his. ‘My, what a big lassie you are now, Lily! And you’re away to art college soon?’

  She nodded happily and, at that moment, I envied her. She was starting out on her life and everything was always such a joy to her. If only I could say the same – that everything was joyous.

  This new van had seats in the rear and Lily scrambled into one of them while I climbed in beside Dave.

  ‘I like your new van, Mr Borland,’ said Lily. ‘But I miss sitting on the cushion in the back.’

  She was referring to his previous van which only had two seats and a cushion in the back for a third passenger or maybe the dogs.

  ‘I had to get another van, Lily, as the last one almost disintegrated with rust. Still, I had some good years out of it so I’m not complaining.’

  The road was just as twisty as I recalled it and it seemed more than six miles to the rough track that led to the farmhouse. Because of the dry weather, dust thrown up by the wheels flew in through the open windows.

  ‘I’ll be glad to see some rain,’ he said. ‘It’s been such a dry spell for a few weeks and everything will get parched if this keeps up.’

  I looked out of the window and the hills looked green. The fields where flocks of sheep could be seen grazing looked quite lush to my eye but I wasn’t an expert on farming.

  Then we were at the back door of the farmhouse and Babs was standing waiting for us. She had a white apron over her dark-coloured floral dress and she smiled when she saw us.