The Street of Broken Dreams

by Tania Crosse

  ‘Yeah, but I think it’s just right for an interview. D’you want to borrow me red cardigan? It’s really smart and it’ll brighten it up a bit.’

  ‘Oo, can I? Ta ever so much, Mill. I really want this job.’

  ‘Yeah, course you can borrow me cardi. Only I want to wear it meself this afternoon. Meeting a friend from work later.’

  ‘Well, don’t get it dirty, then,’ Primrose teased and spent the next few minutes changing back into her bright, floral dress that strained over her budding breasts, and an old cardigan that was so small for her that the sleeves were halfway up her forearms and there was no way she could do it up.

  Mildred shook her head as Primrose skipped out of the room, and then listened as she thumped down the stairs. Perhaps she should go through her wardrobe, such as it was, and find a couple of things for her younger sister to wear. But first she needed to decide what else she was going to wear herself this afternoon. Like Primrose, she’d grown from a child into a woman during the war, only earlier on, of course, when she’d still been living with Gert. Once clothing had gone on coupons, it had been hard to keep up with her growing stature. Gert had generously lent her some of her attire, but Mildred still had very little to dress herself in.

  As the weather was hardly what she would have expected for August, she decided to wear her oft-mended petticoat beneath a pink gingham blouse with the cardigan on top, and a plain, straight skirt. No pleats or gathers or flaring panels, of course, and the hem only just below her knees – the only kind of fashion permitted with the scarcity of material. She hadn’t been able to get hold of any stockings since she couldn’t remember when, so it would have to be short white socks with her usual brogue shoes. She did have a pair of sandals from when she was still growing, but now her toes hung over the ends, and besides, it was too cold for bare feet. And she hardly imagined that Oscar would take too much note of her footwear. The schoolgirl look of lace-up shoes with short socks was so commonplace that it was taken for granted nowadays.

  So why was she thinking that she wanted to look her best just for a walk in the park with Oscar? She was engaged to Gary and was only waiting for him to come home. Japan was going to surrender any day, so it might only be a couple of months before they were reunited. And yet she knew that this innocent little outing with Oscar had triggered something sweet and tender in her heart.

  *

  Happiness pattered in her chest as, later that afternoon, Mildred found herself bowling along towards Battersea Park. She’d walked the same route a thousand times in her life, but never before had she been so intrigued by the delicious emotion that churned in her breast. Not even in those far-off days when she’d been going out to see Gary.

  Oscar lived the other side of the river, somewhere off Chelsea’s King’s Road, meaning the park was a mutually convenient place to meet. They’d arranged a rendezvous at the bandstand. If they were lucky, there might be some musical entertainment. If not, they could take a walk along the park’s roads and pathways as it didn’t close until dusk. Or maybe they could go and get a bite to eat somewhere.

  The delight that suddenly began to waltz inside her when she caught sight of Oscar took Mildred by surprise. Dressed in grey flannels, a shirt open at the neck and a fawn jumper that had worn somewhat thin on the elbows, he looked relaxed and casual, and so much more approachable than in his stiff uniform. His eyes lit up when he saw her and his face stretched in a broad, handsome smile.

  ‘Mildred!’ he greeted her, stepping forward. ‘I wasn’t entirely sure you’d come.’

  ‘Wasn’t you?’ she grinned back, endeavouring to ignore her pulse that had begun to beat wildly. ‘Why wouldn’t I meet up with a friend?’

  Oscar gave an enigmatic shrug and didn’t answer as he pointed to a sandwich blackboard in the bandstand. ‘We’re in luck. There’s a concert at six o’clock. So we’ve got just over half an hour to kill,’ he said, glancing at his watch, ‘if we want to be back in time to get a decent seat. Shall we see if the pavilion’s still open and grab a cuppa?’

  ‘Oh, I only just had one before I came out. But if you want one…’

  A small smile returned to Oscar’s face. ‘So did I, actually. So… shall we take a walk around and then come back?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I’d like that,’ Mildred agreed, only afterwards wondering why she’d said yes instead of her usual yeah.

  They set off at a stroll, ambling down the central avenue away from the bandstand. Young families and older children out alone were beginning to make their way towards the gates on their way home for tea, while couples of all ages and other older groups were still enjoying the fresh air and calm the park had to offer.

  ‘What did your family think of your coming out to meet me?’ Oscar asked when they’d been exchanging nothing but pleasantries for some minutes.

  ‘What, with me being engaged to Gary, you mean?’ Mildred shrugged one shoulder. ‘Don’t stop us going out with a friend, do it? And I don’t always wanna go out with the girls from the depot. None of them are quite me cup of tea, to be honest. ’Cos I was evacuated to me big sister, Gert’s, during the first half of the war, I didn’t really have no proper, close friends when I came back here. Got one now, mind. She’s a dancer. Moved into our street a few months ago, and we’ve really hit it off. Only she’s doing a stint at Wimbledon Theatre. Staying in digs but coming home for Sunday and Mondays. So I’ll see her tomorrow afternoon after our shift.’

  ‘What sort of dancing?’ Oscar enquired with what appeared genuine interest. ‘Perhaps we should get tickets to go and see her. Georgina – you know, my sister – I’m sure she’d love to go, too. The three of us could go together. It’d be too much for my mum, though.’

  Mildred glanced sideways at Oscar, feeling the breath flutter at the back of her throat. The more she saw of him, the more she liked him.

  ‘Think a lot of your family, don’t you?’ she asked.

  ‘Doesn’t everyone?’

  Mildred screwed up her nose. ‘Not sure they do. Lots of people like being with their friends better.’

  ‘Hmm, I lost touch with most of mine when I had to leave university to take care of Mum and Georgie. I was never one for having lots of friends, anyway. And then…’ He seemed to break off in some mysterious reverie before dashing his hand almost angrily across his eyes. ‘I always preferred more intimate relationships,’ he went on, but with a crack in his voice that made Mildred frown. ‘And then the war came along, and now I’m back. Without a proper friend to my name. Apart from you, that is.’

  There was something in his tone that made Mildred think he was suffering some sort of mental anguish, and any uncertainty she’d felt about coming to meet him was swept away.

  ‘Well,’ she went on, wanting to steer the conversation in a different direction, ‘if you want us to go with you and your sister to see me friend dancing, we’ll have to take me brother, Jake. He’s gone right soft on Cissie. That’s her name, Cissie. Surprised he ain’t gone to see her already, but I think he didn’t want to look too eager and frighten her off.’

  The memory of the conversation when Cissie had told her she wasn’t ready for romance tweaked at Mildred’s heart, but was instantly dispelled by the attractive little smile Oscar gave again. ‘Tell me about your family, then,’ he invited her.

  ‘Lucky we got half an hour, there’s so many of us,’ Mildred chuckled back. ‘Only I’m not sure that’ll be long enough. Well, there’s Mum and Dad, of course. Dad’s always worked at Price’s, but Mum’s never worked much. Too busy caring for us lot, but she’s done WVS work in the war. Then there’s the eldest, Kit. He’s sub stationmaster at a town in Kent, so he was never called up. Married with two children. His wife’s Hillie, me sister Gert’s best friend.’

  ‘And Gert’s the one you were evacuated to?’

  ‘Yeah, I mean, yes, that’s right. Lives in Stoneleigh in Surrey. Got three boys. Her hubby worked in a bank before the war, but now he’s back and he’s got Jake a job
there, too, starting next month. Then there’s Trudy what’s really bright. She’s staying on with Gert ’cos she’s at the local grammar school. And the youngest’s Primrose. She’s just come back home to live, so I’ve gotta share me room with her again,’ Mildred concluded, rolling her eyes.

  Oscar gave a soft laugh that sent a shiver down Mildred’s spine. ‘Well, if they’re all as funny and charming as you, I can’t wait to meet them.’

  Mildred’s heart tripped and began to beat faster as she realised she’d love to introduce Oscar to her family, too! And it wouldn’t be like when she’d sidled into the house with Gary for the first time, worried they wouldn’t approve. Except that now she was engaged to Gary, they might wonder what she was up to. Her eyes scanned the grass area in front of them, searching for a way out from her thoughts.

  ‘Oh, well, actually you might meet Jake sooner than you think,’ she announced as her gaze fell on a group of young men running round after a ball. ‘He was coming to play football with his mates from Price’s. Looks like them over there. Come on.’

  She hurried forward to where a casual game was being played, using two impromptu goals marked out with jumpers dropped on the ground. Mildred squinted as her gaze travelled over the individual players, but Jake wasn’t among them. That was odd. And then she remembered Jake’s evasiveness earlier. What was her little brother up to?

  When Mildred turned round, Oscar wasn’t immediately behind her. She waited for him to catch up, frowning not just because Jake wasn’t with his pals, but also because Oscar appeared to be limping slightly. Unless she was imagining it, of course.

  ‘Oh, false alarm,’ she told him, ignoring what she had or hadn’t noticed in his gait. ‘He must’ve gone home already. Funny I didn’t pass him, mind. Must’ve gone another way.’

  ‘Never mind. Another time,’ Oscar said, seeming to hide a grimace.

  ‘Yes, well.’ Mildred was still perplexed. ‘Anyway, we’ve got time to do a circuit round the lakes before the concert starts.’

  But she noticed Oscar purse his lips, a bashful expression on his face. ‘Actually, would you mind if we go back the way we came? Old war wound playing me up a bit.’ He sucked a breath in through his teeth and then gave that attractive laugh again. ‘No, I’m not joking. Sicily 1943. We were based in Malta. Getting pounded like there was no tomorrow. Until we were ready to invade. I was lucky. At least I made it back.’

  Mildred watched him blink, noticing the swooping of his long, dark lashes as his words sank in. Oh, Lord, was he a war hero to boot? How could a girl fight that?

  ‘Well, I’m glad you did. Make it back, I mean. Does it trouble you much?’ Mildred asked, her words ringing with sympathy. ‘Only I didn’t notice you limping before.’

  ‘No, you probably wouldn’t. Most of the time you see me I’m sitting down, driving a bus. And it does only decide to play me up occasionally. Otherwise, I’d have been invalided out instead of going on to fight another day. Or build more makeshift bridges and what have you, in my case.’

  Mildred found herself smiling back as she nodded. ‘Well, I’m pleased it ain’t too bad,’ she told him. ‘Me brother-in-law, the one what works in a bank, he was wounded in Sicily, too. And course we can go straight back. D’you wanna hold onto me?’

  ‘No, thanks, I can manage if we don’t go too fast,’ he answered, gesturing a decline with his hand. ‘Wouldn’t do to be arm-in-arm with an engaged lady.’

  ‘OK, then. Means we’ll get a good seat for the concert, too.’

  ‘And then, afterwards, maybe we’ll try and get something to eat before we part company.’

  Mildred nodded at him. ‘Yes, I’d like that,’ she said. And as they walked slowly back towards the bandstand, she felt some curious seed begin to germinate somewhere deep inside her.

  Twenty-Three

  The lights went down. A soft hush descended on hundreds of chattering voices. Whispers faded. There was a short silence, punctuated by a couple of echoing, subdued coughs. The small orchestra struck up, its cheerful notes reverberating in sizzling expectation. A short overture, and then the audience stilled in excited anticipation as the velvet curtains slowly opened.

  Saul’s heart was racing. He was surrounded by so many people who were clearly wrapped in delight as the show commenced, while he… while he knew that whatever transpired that night would seal his fate. Nervous sweat trickled down his face. He hoped nobody in the darkened auditorium could see.

  He’d been more than impressed when he’d arrived at the theatre to collect his ticket from the box office. When he’d asked his landlady how to get to Wimbledon – to the theatre to be precise – he’d been pleasantly surprised to learn that it was among London’s top ten, despite being a reasonable bus or train journey from the capital’s centre.

  When he’d found his way there in time for the evening performance, he’d admired the curved front steps, and then had been dumbfounded by the massive auditorium with its scarlet and gilded decor. Although he’d visited other London theatres, he’d never been right inside, so maybe they were all like that, but he didn’t know. Certainly, there was nothing like it in his provincial home town in Alabama. But Wimbledon Theatre seemed to Saul a magical world and he was pleased that the girl who’d been so dreadfully wronged that terrible night was at least at the top of her career and not dancing in some sleazy backstreet nightclub.

  He’d been lucky to get a seat in the stalls, not too far from the front. He needed to see the girl’s face. To know if it was really her. And if it was, she held his future, his life, in her hands.

  The opening number was cheerful and jolly and uplifting. There were two lead singers with a chorus of singers and dancers in brightly coloured costumes representing the old Wild West, which made Saul feel curiously at home. He became even more relaxed as he peered at each dancing girl in turn. None of them triggered the memory he was expecting. Relief and disappointment poured through him in equal measure. He was wrong, after all. Fate, destiny, call it what you will, had decided it was but a wild goose chase. He’d have to put the whole sorry business behind him and settle down to enjoy the show. If he could. For that uneasy niggle persisted in his chest.

  The piece ended to enthusiastic applause. The compère came on stage to welcome the audience and announced that the opening act was, unsurprisingly given the lyrics, the title song from the Broadway musical hit, Oklahoma!, performed by kind permission of someone Saul had never heard of. The writers, composers or producers, presumably. And then the compère made his first joke of the evening by referring to the colossal fee the company had needed to pay for the privilege.

  The second act was announced as something less rousing. The stage was dimmed so that a replica street light could glow softly in the gloom. Another female singer in a trench raincoat moved into its amber glimmer to give a haunting rendition of ‘Lili Marlene’. Her deep, rich voice touched something inside Saul’s heart. So engrossed was he that at first he didn’t notice the figure emerge from the wings. When he did, he had to stifle a gasp. But the solo dancer moving so expressively to the song was fair-haired and, though slender and graceful, was taller and not of such a petite frame as Saul remembered. No. It wasn’t her.

  A magician was next. Clever, but not Saul’s cup of tea. Music and rhythm was what he liked best, so when a fiddle player, an older gent, stepped up to the microphone to deliver a medley of lively Irish tunes, Saul found his foot tapping on the floor. Even better, the main chorus then returned with a hearty version of ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo’ to which the dancers clicked away in a merry tap routine. Saul felt a gentle balm of contentment soothing his restless spirit. The evening wasn’t bringing him the trauma and anxiety he’d expected. Instead, he’d found himself thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.

  He settled back in the seat as a male singer appeared on stage to the introductory bars of ‘Apple Blossom Time’. Three dancing couples slid into the background as a moving accompaniment. The same ones as before. That was going to
be it, then. Cecily Cresswell must be the blonde soloist of ‘Lili Marlene’. Not the girl he was looking for. He’d come to the end of the road.

  And then, suddenly, his whole body juddered. His heartbeat ratcheted up in his chest as another dancing couple stepped out from behind the others, poised for just a split second before they began. An electric charge fizzed through the air, scorching Saul’s brain as they broke into dance with such fluidity and grace that it set his head spinning. The girl’s costume was loose and flowing, falling about her tiny frame in a cloud and echoing the bending and lilting of her body. That long neck, the tilt of her chin. Her dark, straight hair, caught back from her face at the top of her head, fell about her shoulders in a shining curtain of silk, whipping about her form as she twisted and twirled. Just as it had on that semi-moonlit night.

  It was her. It was Cecily Cresswell.

  Fire raged through Saul’s flesh. He felt sick, dizzy. Stifled. Ran his hand frantically around his collar. He had to get out! But he was trapped, enclosed on either side by spectators. He’d just have to sit tight. He was choking, about to pass out. Black stars in front of his eyes. The figures on the stage grew smaller. Fading. As if in a dream.

  By the time everything swam back into focus, the act was over and another had begun. Saul sat, unseeing, unhearing, hardly aware of his surroundings. He had found her. Could he find the courage to carry out his plan?

  Finally the compère announced that the first half of the show would end with the act they had all been waiting for. The audience had already caught a glimpse of Sean O’Leary and Cecily Cresswell. Now they would perform the first of their two pas de deux, to Gershwin’s ‘Rhapsody in Blue’.

  Pain and guilt tumbled inside Saul’s head as this time he succeeded in forcing himself to watch. She was ethereal, like a sprite. Dazzling, bewitching. Pure. Yet he had witnessed the evil thing that had been done to her. And he couldn’t stop the tears that dripped down his cheeks.