The Street of Broken Dreams

by Tania Crosse

  And she had done so with great glee when Jake had got in from work that evening. Optimism had bloomed on his face.

  ‘Oh, well, then, d’you fancy going to the flicks tonight, Mill? Anything on you’d like to see?’ he’d asked at once, almost without a pause to think. ‘We could ask Cissie if she’d like to come with us.’

  ‘Want me to play gooseberry, do you?’ Mildred had teased.

  No. Cissie and me’d be going just as friends,’ Jake had replied awkwardly. ‘We could ask Zac as well, to make up a foursome. Be rude if we didn’t, anyhow.’

  Mildred smiled to herself now as she applied the brakes to turn in at the bus depot. They’d had a good evening, the four of them, and Mildred felt proud that she’d set the ball rolling for Jake. There was hope for her little brother’s love life yet! She just wondered how her own affairs would turn out.

  She secured her bike in the bicycle rack, bidding good morning to her colleagues as they all trooped into the office to clock on. Drivers had to collect keys and conductors their ticket machines. Mildred chatted to her workmates as they waited patiently in the queue. They were a mix of older men who’d been over the age of conscription and women who’d taken over the jobs of the younger men who’d been called up. Mildred hadn’t seen any of them for a few days, of course, but catching up properly would have to wait until their break.

  ‘Here, have you seen Bev?’ Mildred gazed around anxiously before consulting her watch. Time was creeping on. Their bus was due to leave soon, and so far it didn’t have a driver! Bev had never been late, and Mildred imagined she’d come running up at any second. But by the time it was Mildred’s turn at the desk, there was still no sign of her. ‘D’you know where Bev is? Me driver?’ she asked, starting to panic.

  The clerk at the desk looked up at her and then called across to the manager. ‘Miss Parker’s asking about Bev Grainger, Mr Grimwald.’

  The older man came over, his expression serious. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Parker, but I’m afraid I had to let Mrs Grainger go.’

  Mildred frowned at him, uncomprehending. Bev was a good driver and always on time. Mildred didn’t understand. ‘You given her her cards? What’d she done to deserve that?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing. But some of the men who worked here before have been demobbed and want their jobs back, and I’m obliged to re-employ them.’

  ‘What! Did you hear that, girls?’ Mildred raised her voice to get the attention of the other women still in the office. ‘They’re giving our jobs back to the men! I know I ain’t been doing this as long as some of you, but there’s those here what’s risked their blooming lives all through the Blitz to keep the buses running, and now they’re giving us the sack!’

  A disgruntled murmur hummed through the room, with many a cross muttering. But Mr Grimwald held up his hands to silence them.

  ‘I really am sorry, ladies. But it’s a directive from the government, so there’s little I can do about it. I’m sure I can speak for the public when I say we’re all really grateful for what you’ve all done throughout the war. But men are being demobbed who have families to support, so you can see the sense of it. Now, I can assure you that we’re considering each case carefully. And everyone who leaves will be given a good reference if they are indeed seeking employment elsewhere.’

  ‘Leaves? Given the push, you mean!’ Mildred scoffed.

  ‘In some cases, I’m afraid it might come down to that, Miss Parker. But some may be pleased to leave. While you were off the last few days, Mrs Grainger volunteered to go. Her husband’s coming home next week, and he’s got a good job to go back to, so she was happy to leave. Now, everyone, you have buses and passengers waiting, so may I suggest you get on with it?’

  ‘Huh, while we’ve got jobs to go to, you mean?’ Mildred grumbled, picking up her ticket machine and money bag. And slinging the straps over her shoulders, she stalked out towards the bus garage.

  ‘It had ter happen, Milly,’ one of her friends acknowledged with a sigh.

  ‘Yer must’ve seen it coming, love,’ said one of the men.

  Yes. Mildred knew very well she had seen it coming. But it seemed outrageous now it had actually started happening. It was so unfair when so many women had given their all to the war effort. Not just in public transport, but in munitions factories, the services and all manner of ways. But jobs for the lads who’d risked their lives in the fighting also seemed fair. Mildred could see that, too.

  Nevertheless, a white line of anger surrounded her pursed lips as she weaved her way round the other vehicles to her own waiting bus. She just prayed she wouldn’t be one of those to be let go. Her family weren’t exactly destitute, but they weren’t well off, either, and she liked to pay her way. She’d probably find some other sort of employment, but the thing was, she loved her job on the buses and couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

  So what might she be forced to turn her hand to? Her sister-in-law, Hillie, Kit’s wife, had four younger sisters. What were they doing?

  The youngest was at grammar school and the next one up was at art college and planning to go on to train as a teacher. One of the older ones was a Land Army Girl. She’d always been animal mad and was hoping to study to be a vet when things settled down. The other one was a nursing sister at the famous Queen Victoria Hospital in Sussex where they specialised in pioneering plastic surgery for burn victims, notably pilots who’d been shot down during the war.

  Now Mildred couldn’t imagine herself working on a farm or as a nurse. Either stinking manure or blood and vomit. No thanks! Even if she didn’t dislike animals and her sympathies for the patients were as strong as anyone else’s. And she knew she wasn’t bright enough to be a teacher, so what the hell could she do if she was forced to give up being a clippie? She hadn’t much liked working in a shop, which was what she’d done before going on the buses, and she hated the idea of being cooped up in an office. Above all, she wasn’t going to work at blooming Price’s like her sister, Gert, had all those years ago!

  Bitterness was rumbling away inside Mildred’s head as she rounded her own bus, and she took a step backwards at the uniformed figure perched on the open platform, apparently waiting for her. Seeing her approaching, the man got to his feet and held out his hand.

  ‘Hello. You Mildred Parker? I’m Oscar Miles, your new driver. Pleased to meet you.’

  Mildred peered up through narrowed eyes at a disgustingly handsome, if a trifle gaunt, face that met her gaze with a cautious smile. Mildred scowled back, ignoring his proffered hand as she stepped up onto the platform.

  ‘Wish I could say the same,’ she said haughtily, reaching up to change the destination scroll. ‘Hadn’t you better start her up if you’re gonna do my friend’s job properly and run on time?’

  The fellow blinked at her, then, with a resigned sigh, walked round to the front of the bus and swung himself up into the driver’s cab.

  Mildred glared down the rows of seats at the outline of his back as the engine growled into life. Oscar. What sort of a bleeding name was that? A bit posh for a flaming bus driver, wasn’t it?

  As the bus pulled forward, joining the queue of vehicles waiting to turn out onto the road, Mildred’s lips bunched into a rebellious knot.

  *

  Eva shuffled up to Number Eight and put her heavy shopping bags down on the pavement while she opened the front door. She’d had to queue again for ages to get enough food for the four of them to last the weekend, and her legs were aching from standing still for so long.

  She’d blooming well had enough of it over all those years. Two months it had been since Germany had surrendered, and things weren’t getting no better. Worse in some ways. It was even rumoured the government was sending food abroad to formerly occupied countries including Russia, as well as to Germany itself. But people there were literally starving, whereas at least Eva could just about feed her family, even if it did take some effort. And, when all was said and done, she supposed most German civilians were as innocent
as those who’d had to suffer in Britain.

  Eva found herself lost in thought as she lugged the shopping down the passage and into the kitchen at the back. Before she’d gone to do battle with the rationing queues, she’d stood waiting in another one, except that it had moved a lot quicker. Since all people had to do was officially identify themselves and then cast their vote.

  But during the wait, she’d overheard some alarming discussions among other voters. Churchill an old man, must be worn out. Great leader in time of war, but wasn’t it time for a change? Did they want to go back to the poverty and lack of jobs they’d had under the Tories before the war? If you think we had it bad, what about the poor devils up north? Wasn’t it time Labour had another chance of being in power? They’ve hardly had a look-in. And do you remember the Beveridge Report? Labour seemed quite keen on that. Wouldn’t it be a fine thing if it came about? Imagine a free health service for all, just for starters. Wouldn’t get that under the Tories, I’ll be bound. If you vote Tory, you’ll be voting for the party, not Churchill. He wouldn’t have the same sort of say he’d had during the war.

  As Eva put the shopping away, she felt her hackles rise. They were going to have to wait three long weeks for the election results to be announced so that the votes from personnel still serving overseas could be included. After the comments she’d heard in the queue, Eva dreaded what the outcome might be.

  She was a working-class woman, not like some of the toffs she worked alongside in the WVS. Yet her loyalty to Mr Churchill was unshakeable. She was sure he’d back the proposed new welfare state, even if the idea had initially received a lukewarm reception from the Tories. But that had been back when they had a war to win, which was surely more important at the time? And whether directly or indirectly, Churchill had kept all her family safe throughout the war. All they needed now was for Mildred’s Gary to come home in one piece. The boy wasn’t exactly what Eva had wanted for Milly, but Milly had been adamant she loved him, so for her sake, Eva prayed for Gary to come home safely.

  So absorbed was she in her ponderings that the knock on the front door made her jump. Oh, she wondered if it was Bridie. If she wanted to push Ron round to the polling station in the wheelchair, with Zac at work and Cissie having left for the studio by now, there’d be nobody to mind the baby. Bridie couldn’t push the pram as well, and it wouldn’t be safe for Ron to hold Jane on his lap with only his one arm as they manoeuvred up and down kerbs and across roads.

  Eva’s heart lifted. She’d be more than happy to oblige. Jane was a placid little soul, and there was nothing Eva liked more than children. Much as she was pleased that Kit and Gert had both moved on and were making a success of their lives, she regretted that her five grandchildren didn’t live on the doorstep, and Jane would make a good substitute for an hour or so.

  When Eva opened the front door, however, she found not Bridie but a telegram boy on the doorstep. Fear at once stampeded through her, making her heart hammer. Her brain immediately flew to all her chicks. But surely there was no reason why any of them should be in trouble. Gary, then. Oh, Lord. How the flaming heck could she break any bad news to Milly? But the telegram was addressed to her, not Milly, and Gary had put Mildred as his next of kin with his father being long dead and his mother estranged. So that wouldn’t be it.

  There was only one thing for it. Open the envelope. The only time Eva’s hands had shaken like this was when the V1 had fallen on Price’s, and she felt her mouth go dry. But when her eyes managed to focus on the thin brown paper, her terrors were swept away so instantly, she felt faint.

  Rob home stop ring me stop

  ‘Any reply, missis?’ the boy asked.

  Eva’s face lit up like one of the neon lights that shone out brightly in the West End again. ‘Nah!’ she beamed back, going to shut the door.

  ‘Good news, then, missis?’ the boy persisted almost cheekily, and then Eva realised what he was waiting for.

  ‘Just a minute,’ she said, bustling inside to get her purse, and then handing the boy a thrupenny bit.

  ‘Thanks, missis,’ the boy nodded, and ran off.

  Eva didn’t hesitate for a moment. Purse still in hand, she shut the door behind her and hurried round the corner to the telephone box. Never mind about the shopping. Her Gert’s hubby was home! Time to celebrate.

  Seventeen

  ‘OK, then, love. See you, then!’ Eva raised her voice above the pips and then the line went dead. No point putting in extra pennies when they’d made all the arrangements. Oh, life was truly beginning to look up, and Eva made no attempt to conceal the smile on her face as she left the telephone box and headed back to Banbury Street.

  ‘Hello, Eva!’ she heard someone call. ‘I was just coming to see you.’

  Eva turned round and saw Hester Braithwaite hurrying to catch her up. Well, at least she’d have someone to share her news with. Hester wasn’t a terribly close friend. In fact, they’d been almost enemies at one time. But Eva appreciated that Hester had swallowed a great deal of pride in the past, and had suffered in her own way. She’d lived at Number Three opposite with her husband Charles, a senior manager at Arding and Hobbs, although they’d moved out before the war. Eva and Hester had kept in touch, though, and were friends of a sort. However, on Eva’s part, it was more because Gert and Hillie had remained good friends with Charles and Hester’s daughter, Jessica, and had corresponded by letter throughout the war while she’d been stuck out in Nigeria.

  ‘You’re looking very pleased with yourself, I must say, Eva,’ Hester greeted Eva in her usual tight-lipped way.

  ‘That’s ’cos our Gert’s hubby’s home at last. You remember him? Rob? And they’re all coming up to stay at Rob’s parents’ house next weekend for a welcome home party,’ Eva beamed back. ‘So I rang Hillie, and she and Kit can come up with the children on the Sunday, so we can have a proper old knees-up.’

  ‘Oh, that is good news.’

  Hester’s reply was polite, but sadly Eva detected a little envy in it, too. So she tried to suppress her own elation as she went on, ‘I’m sorry. There’s me wittering on when it must be hard for you with Jess and Patrick and the children so far away.’

  ‘That’s what I wanted to speak to you about,’ Hester frowned. ‘I had a letter from Jessica this morning. Now the war’s over, she wants Charles and me to go out to Nigeria and meet Patrick’s family before they come back home. I can’t speak to Charles about it until he gets in tonight, and I just needed someone to talk to.’

  ‘Of course, dearie.’ Eva could see that Hester looked a bit nervy and put a sympathetic hand on the woman’s arm. ‘Come back to mine, and I’ll squeeze a cuppa out of this morning’s leaves.’

  ‘Thanks, Eva. You’re a good friend,’ Hester answered, falling into step beside her.

  ‘Hmm, going to Africa,’ Eva murmured, thinking aloud. ‘I can understand why you feel nervous about it.’

  ‘Nervous isn’t in it,’ Hester moaned, wringing her hands. ‘They wanted us to go with them when they had the tribal ceremony out there after they were married. You remember? That was back in thirty-six. I was too frightened to go. Didn’t fancy such a long sea voyage, and then all that strange food. I managed to put it off, but then they wanted us to go with them when they went back in thirty-nine. But just think, if we had gone with them, we’d have got trapped out there, too!’

  ‘Well, you didn’t.’ Eva paused outside Number Eight to fish her front-door key out of her purse. ‘And if you had, well, it’d have been a sight safer than London! The Nigerians did a lot to support us during the war, and a lot of their young men joined up and died fighting in the Far East. Yeah, you should be honoured to go. But what we doing standing here on the doorstep? Come on in.’

  Eva opened the door and stood back to let Hester go in first. Always liked to show Hester she had manners. It was a sort of rebound action from when Hester had looked down on her. Engrained so deep that she still couldn’t quite throw it off despite herself. But it had c
ome as a huge shock to Hester and Charles that their daughter had fallen in love with an African tribal prince – even if he was such a lovely chap and a highly respected, qualified dentist to boot. And Eva couldn’t help but appreciate Hester’s present concerns.

  Nevertheless, she disguised a sigh as she followed Hester along the passageway to her own back room. She’d try to prop the other woman up a bit. Because that was what Eva Parker did. But she’d far rather have been popping round to Bridie’s, or across the street to Ellen Hayes, to share her own good news. But that would just have to wait.

  *

  Oscar Miles skilfully reversed the bus into its parking bay at the depot. Empty now of passengers, Mildred had watched him through the glass that separated the driver’s cab, wanting to pour scorn on his ability and willing him to make a mess of it. But she had to admit to herself – grudgingly – that he carried out the manoeuvre perfectly, turning his head from side to side as he used the mirrors to line the bus up dead straight.

  Just for a second, Mildred experienced a twinge of admiration, but she instantly quashed it. He must be in his late twenties or thereabouts, so had probably driven a bus for a couple of years or so before he’d been called up. And maybe he’d been a lorry driver in the army or something, so he jolly well ought to know what he was doing. But whatever his driving pedigree, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of congratulating him on his prowess.

  He hadn’t even turned off the engine before she jumped off the open platform at the back of the bus and hurried towards the office to hand over to the relief crew. They’d already had a short break after the rush hour was over and the timetable became less frequent, which allowed them a little respite between runs. But now it was considered their lunch hour, even though it wasn’t yet midday.