The Street of Broken Dreams

by Tania Crosse

  ‘Apologies accepted,’ Cissie smiled back. ‘You’ve not met his mum yet, either, have you?’

  ‘Haven’t been to the flat yet, no. Just met his sister the other night. Didn’t all half enjoy it. You’re bloody good, you know.’

  Cissie felt a rosy hue warming her cheeks. ‘I’m glad you all enjoyed it,’ she mumbled in embarrassment. ‘And it isn’t just me. I reckon the whole show’s pretty good.’

  ‘Yeah, Oscar and Georgie thought so, too.’

  ‘And…’ Cissie glanced sideways at her friend. ‘You’re going to give up your fiancé for him?’ she asked gently.

  She saw Mildred bite her lip. ‘I don’t suppose Gary’ll get home for a few months yet,’ Mildred said thoughtfully. ‘But if things are still going the same way with Oscar, then, yes. I just feel so happy when I’m with him, far happier than I ever did with Gary. I can really see a brighter, better future with him. Of course, I’ll have to let Gary down gently, but I’m not gonna waste me life on some childish crush.’ She broke off, wriggling her lips. But then she seemed to dismiss the subject from her mind as she turned the tables on Cissie. ‘So what about you and Jake, then?’ she quizzed her.

  Cissie felt the little knot tighten in her chest. With all her new-found friends around her, the tensions inside her had eased a little. But she was such a long way off the path to normality that she didn’t think she could ever find her way back.

  ‘Jake’s a lovely fellow,’ she began cautiously. ‘Maybe one day, I’ll be ready for romance, but it’d be unfair of me to get his hopes up over something that might never happen. Much better for him to look elsewhere.’

  She felt her heart rear up against her own words. She was very, very fond of Jake. Maybe she was even falling in love with him. She imagined him taking her in his arms, and the sensation was all-encompassing. But it could never go further than that, and it was breaking her. She’d explain the real reason to Mildred. But not today. She didn’t want to spoil her birthday by digging up something so horrible. And maybe it would be better to keep the past buried.

  So she turned to Mildred with a happy smile. ‘Jake’s present was so thoughtful, though.’

  ‘Yeah, a seventy-eight of Swan Lake, wasn’t it? By some Russian bloke?’

  Cissie couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Tchaikovsky, yes!’ she giggled. ‘And it’s an album of three seventy-eights so there’s six extracts. I can listen to them over and over again.’

  ‘Bet you’ll be on your feet dancing to them, and all.’

  ‘Yes, probably,’ Cissie grinned back. ‘And I do wish Jake all the best,’ she went on more seriously. ‘Hope he really enjoys it when he starts work at the bank next week.’

  ‘Yeah, so do I. He so wanted to be a fireman, and it’s a lot different from that.’

  Cissie nodded, not sure what she could say next. If only she’d met Jake without what had happened to her, things might have been very different, and it was tearing her in two. But she was saved any further torment, for now at least, as the band of merry cricketers finished their game and came over to join them.

  ‘Ain’t it about time we had that picnic?’ Primrose complained.

  ‘Isn’t it,’ Trudy corrected her. ‘I hope you talk better than that when you’re serving customers.’

  ‘Yars, of course I do,’ Primrose mimicked. And then went on, ‘Anyway, where’s the food? I’m bleeding starving.’

  ‘Don’t you bloody well swear,’ Eva reprimanded her, panting up behind.

  There was a brief moment of exchanged glances, and then everyone fell about laughing. Cissie felt herself caught up in the joyful sound. Her family. Her best friends.

  Was she coming home, at last?

  *

  ‘So how’s your brother getting on at his new job?’ Oscar wanted to know.

  It was their long break at work, and they were sitting outside on the bench, having a cigarette and enjoying an unusually hot day in September. But who knew how soon the autumn would be upon them and their breaks would have to be spent indoors.

  ‘Well, he’s only been there a couple of weeks, but he says he’s really enjoying it,’ Mildred replied, blowing out smoke. ‘Between you and me, I think he’s more suited to it than being a fireman. I mean, I know he had the experience of it in the war and he’d set his little heart on it. But he ain’t… I mean, he isn’t like me. He’s proper brainy, like Kit and Trudy. So I think he’ll be a lot better off in the long run,’ she mused, taking another deep draught on her cigarette. ‘Funny how things can work out for the best in the end.’

  ‘Well, I’d agree with you there.’ Oscar caught her gaze and she saw his expression soften. ‘Think how we locked horns when we first met. And look at us now. You know, when I first came back from the war, I wanted to go straight into engineering. But it wasn’t that easy, so I came back here instead. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met this wonderful, funny, passionate, beautiful, caring, clever – yes, clever – young woman and – I reckon I can say it now – fallen in love with her glorious auburn hair and her scattering of freckles,’ he murmured, running his finger tip down her nose. ‘And her lovely, smiley mouth…’

  This time, he outlined her lips with a touch like gossamer, sending ripples down to the tender spot between her thighs. Oscar leant closer, tipping her face upwards with a finger under her chin. Mildred held her breath, gulping at the intensity in his eyes as his lips brushed so sweetly and gently against hers. Unlike Gary’s demanding kisses, this was so delicate, awakening something inside she’d never felt before. It was the first proper kiss they’d shared, and when it was over, she was left breathless and giddy.

  She realised then that she’d closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Oscar was gazing intently at her, one eyebrow raised rakishly.

  ‘So, did you like that, Miss Parker?’ he asked with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Y-you know I never meant this to happen, but—’

  Mildred placed her finger against his lips. ‘Yeah, I know. But I’m glad it has. Made us realise that what I had with Gary, well, it wasn’t right. Not for me. I felt sorry for him, not having no family. He was a bit brash, to be honest. Wanted people to do whatever he wanted. Not kind and gentle like someone else I know. So it really has worked out for the best for me.’

  She watched as Oscar’s mouth curled upwards at the corners. ‘Yes,’ he nodded with a little perplexed shake of his head. ‘You know, after Susan, I never expected to fall in love again. We met at school, you know, so she’d been part of my life for so long. She was beautiful, intelligent, caring, bubbly. Just like you. So it’s a miracle I found someone else to love just as much.’

  ‘So does this mean I really will have to take you home to meet me family soon?’ Mildred asked, feeling her cheeks redden.

  ‘Yes, I guess it does,’ Oscar chuckled. ‘And I’ll have to take you to meet my mum, too. But I’ll have to introduce the idea to her slowly. She might get overexcited and that wouldn’t be good for her. But, oh, look at the time! Only got five minutes before we’re off again.’

  ‘We can’t keep meeting like this,’ Mildred laughed, jumping to her feet.

  ‘Actually, we might not for much longer. I’ve seen a job I’m going to apply for. With an engineering firm. Here in London. If I get it, you might need to find a new driver.’

  ‘As long as he or she’s better than you!’ Mildred teased, and together they hurried inside the depot.

  *

  Eva stood behind the trestle table with her WVS comrades, waiting for the special trains to rumble into the station. She’d done her best to smarten up her uniform, sponging it down and giving it a good press. For all she knew, this could be the last time she ever wore it.

  The special trains were bringing lads returning from the Far East. They weren’t the ones who’d stayed on to the bitter end. Oh, no. Those ones wouldn’t be home for another couple of months or so. There’d be thousands upon thousands of those. Organising their transportation home would be a nightmare. Even Eva could
appreciate that.

  No, these trains were bringing those who’d been wounded earlier on, but who’d recovered enough to endure the journey home long before the Japs had surrendered. They’d been transported on a hospital ship that had docked in Portsmouth the previous day. Those still more seriously incapacitated had apparently been dispatched to hospitals first under medical escort. Those arriving at Waterloo today were the more recovered, the walking wounded, en route to convalescent homes or to be discharged and demobbed. After the journey in the crowded trains, they’d be hungry and thirsty, and the WVS ladies would be waiting with their tea urns and piles of sandwiches.

  They hadn’t long got everything ready before they heard the familiar rattle and groan of a train inching along the nearest platform, followed by the grinding of brakes and hissing of steam as the engine came to a halt and the carriages all clonked to a standstill. There was whistle-blowing and shouting, all echoing beneath the station’s huge domed roof, and the sound of compartment doors being flung open. Men’s voices, some louder than others, calling instructions, and a general clatter and clamour.

  ‘Right, here they come, ladies!’ the WVS centre organiser called, and Eva stepped up to the plate with her fellow volunteers.

  For the next half-hour, all was bedlam, even though the hundreds of soldiers and sailors formed orderly queues for the WVS tables. The women had each been allocated a role. Eva’s was to hand out the enamel mugs of tea that someone else had poured and instruct each man where to leave his empty vessel when he’d finished.

  Eva was pleased to see that a lot of the men looked almost fully recovered, with their injuries not visible. Others, poor beggars, looked awful, their faces gaunt and yellow. Must’ve been ill, Eva reckoned. She’d heard of nasty diseases such as dysentery that were rife in the Far East and could take months to get over. Maybe even some of the poor sods had survived the building of the Burma Railway. The way the Japs had put thousands of Allied prisoners of war to slave in the jungle in blistering heat and under horrendous conditions, at the mercy of God knew what diseases, with little food and savagely beaten when they’d become too ill to work, well, it defied words. It was as bad as the Nazi concentration camps. Worse in some opinions. Those who were lucky enough to survive when the railway was finished had been forced to endure another two years of brutal treatment before they were liberated, and only now was the true horror of their imprisonment coming to light.

  Eva forced the thoughts from her mind. These men needed a jolly face to welcome them, not a long one. ‘There you are, ducks,’ she said cheerily to each chap in the queue for the table as she handed out the tea.

  ‘Cor, ain’t it nice ter see a cheerful face!’ one cheeky private grinned back at her.

  ‘Even better ter be back on bloody British soil again!’ someone else declared, and was instantly given a cheer of approval. ‘And better still if yer give us a kiss, darling!’

  ‘’Ere, she don’t wanna kiss you! She wants ter kiss me!’

  ‘Oi, give over,’ Eva bantered back.

  The line of men gradually moved forward. Eva guessed they must have been divided into groups on the train as mainly soldiers on crutches or with an arm in a sling filed along next. The voyage home must have taken several weeks, so their wounds must have been pretty flipping bad not to have fully healed by now, Eva assumed. Some of her WVS colleagues had been given the task of physically helping those who needed it. There were some amputees, but not in the numbers Eva had seen after the first war, thank Gawd. And she didn’t see any like poor Ron, who’d lost both an arm and a leg.

  The time flew by, the stream of dirty mugs being washed and reused finally stopping so that they were ready and waiting for the second train, while Eva furiously buttered slices of bread for hundreds more sandwiches. And then it began all over again.

  Visible, burnt and twisted skin, eye patches. Two holes where once there’d been a nose. Heads that had obviously been kept shaven to allow long, curved wounds to knit together. One or two still bandaged. A lacerated face.

  Poor bloody souls, Eva thought. It could put even your loved ones off you. Or stop you ever finding a girl if you didn’t already have one. Especially hard for the younger ones. Some seemed no more than kids.

  The chappie standing in front of her now, for instance, wasn’t old. Early twenties maybe. A deep scar ran down his forehead, crossed an eye that stared, open and vacant, and carried on across his cheek to his jaw. Beneath his Navy uniform, one shoulder appeared lifted as if still in pain.

  Another poor bleeding blighter. Eva gave him a sympathetic smile. He ignored it, took the mug and moved on without so much as a grunt. Well, who could blame him? Something struck deep inside her. So why did she notice this fellow in particular?

  Her whole body turned rigid with shock. Oh, good Gawd. He hadn’t recognised her, she was sure. But she knew who he was.

  ‘Come on, Parker. What’s the matter with you?’ she heard the centre organiser bellow in her ear.

  She shook her head to bring herself back as she handed out the next mug. Then she glanced over at the sailor again. He had his back to her now, but yes, she was right.

  It was definitely Mildred’s Gary.

  Twenty-Nine

  ‘I always think we’re so lucky to have such a great big park right on our doorstep,’ Jake observed as he and Cissie wandered along one of the meandering paths around the waterfall section of Battersea Park’s gardens. He’d been delighted that she’d agreed to go for a stroll with him, even though it was a dank, drizzly afternoon. It was still mild, though, and the dampness had brought out the smell of wet earth and vegetation that was just beginning to die back at the end of the summer season.

  ‘Mind you,’ Jake continued, ‘I don’t suppose I thought like that when I was a kid. I just took it for granted then. We were up here almost every day. Or at least it seemed like it.’

  ‘Yes, it is lovely.’

  Thinking as one, they stopped by the main cascade, watching the silvery water splashing down the rocks and into the pool at the bottom. Different ferns with feathery or shiny leaves crowded the edges in various shades of green, giving a magical atmosphere as if fairies or elves could fly out from them at any moment.

  Cissie felt the stillness of the moment wash through her. ‘There was a park,’ she almost whispered, her lips seemingly moving on their own. She was suddenly overtaken by a strange sense of detachment, as if a voice inside her was compelling her to speak and she was merely its mouthpiece. ‘Near where we used to live,’ it went on. ‘On the street where I was… attacked. It was tiny, though. Not like this. I never went down that street again. So it’s nice to have this place just round the corner. It’s hardly Devon. You know, where I was evacuated. But it does give you space to breathe.’

  Her own words had astounded her. How simple she’d found it to speak to Jake about what had happened. When she was with him, she no longer felt lost in the shadows. She turned her head to look at him, a small smile slipping onto her lips. She saw a tiny frown flicker across his brow, and his eyes seemed to deepen with understanding.

  ‘I’m so glad we moved here,’ his expression prompted Cissie to say. ‘And not just because of the park, or making a fresh start. If we hadn’t moved here, I’d never have met you. Or your family.’

  She watched as a gentle softness came over Jake’s face. Her own muscles stilled. It really was as if a sudden peace was starting to cleanse her heart of its agony.

  She saw Jake swallow, his Adam’s apple moving up and down his slim throat.

  ‘There’s a rec just a couple of hundred yards from where Gert lives,’ he gulped, as if grasping at something to say. ‘A good size, but nothing like this. But not much further away, there’s Nonsuch Park. That’s massive. Henry the Eighth had a palace there. It was supposed to be so beautiful, there was to be nonesuch other like it. That’s how it got its name, apparently. But in Elizabeth the First’s reign, it was owned by the mistress of some nobleman and she had it demo
lished and the materials sold to pay off her gambling debts, or something like that. Anyway, the grammar school where Trudy goes is on the far side of the park. I could take you there. Easily done in a day on the train. Well, Rob commutes in every day to the bank, of course. I’m sure they’d love to have us for Sunday lunch.’ He stopped, realising he was gabbling. So he finished with a wry laugh, ‘I’m afraid Gert’s not a much better cook than our mum, though.’

  Cissie’s smile grew wider. ‘I think I could put up with that. It’d be nice. But, Jake.’ She reached out, putting a restraining hand on his arm. ‘Getting to know your family better. It won’t change anything between us. I like you. Very much. And I feel… I could love you. But only ever as a brother. I could only ever love any man as a brother. And… I’m sorry for that.’

  She felt the shard of pain at the hurt she saw on Jake’s handsome young face. But then a rueful smile tugged at his lips.

  ‘But that can’t stop me loving you as a man loves a woman,’ he croaked.

  Cissie knew she was putting them both through torture and groaned inwardly. But she must dissuade him, though it was breaking her heart. ‘No, Jake,’ she said. ‘You must look elsewhere. There’ll be some other lovely young lady out there far more worthy of you. And anyway, you hardly know me. We’re both so young—’

  ‘I know you well enough to know that I’ll always be there for you,’ he insisted. ‘A close friend, if nothing else.’

  ‘Well, I should like that very much.’ Cissie smiled back, feeling more comfortable. ‘Good friends should always stick by each other.’

  Jake gave her a long, searching gaze. ‘And… can good friends hold hands?’ he asked tentatively.

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ she answered, remembering how they’d held hands once before, here in the park, after she’d told him everything. It had felt good and safe then, and she was sure it would do again. ‘In fact, I’d rather like it, too.’

  She held out her hand and Jake took it, grasping it firmly as if his touch was sending her a message. She could trust him, she knew she could. He wasn’t like… whatever his name was.