A Girl Can Dream

by Anne Bennett

  He began to go again to the football matches on Saturday afternoons with his brothers and Terry, and promised Billy he would take him along soon, and he gave all the children money to go to the thruppenny crush on Saturday morning. Meg was pleased to see all of them warming once again to the father who had been lost to them for a little while.

  Aunt Rosie, who greatly admired Meg and the way she had stepped up to take over the family, popped in one afternoon for a cup of tea and asked her if she had ever resented giving up her dreams.

  ‘No,’ Meg said. ‘Resent is the wrong word. I promised Mom I would look after them all and I want to keep my word, but I can’t help being envious of other girls who don’t have my responsibilities.’

  ‘And what of your own future?’

  ‘That’s on hold until all the children are grown and settled,’ Meg said, but she said it without the slightest shred of self-pity. Rosie was impressed by her maturity and she said this to Meg.

  Meg smiled. ‘Nicholas said almost exactly the same thing the day of Mom’s funeral.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘I think in many ways he feels a bit like a fish out of water.’

  Rosie nodded. ‘Robert thinks that too.’

  ‘Well, he’s neither one thing nor the other,’ Meg said. ‘He hardly knows your lads or our Terry because he has never been allowed to mess around with them, and yet he never brings friends home from that posh school or talks about going to their houses or out with them at the weekend.’

  ‘Susan says he has lots of homework.’

  ‘I suppose he will have,’ Meg said. ‘But surely not every hour of every day? All this studying is making him look different and, however clever he is, no schoolwork is as good as having friends to knock about with.’

  ‘It does sound very lonely,’ Rosie said. ‘But the worm might be turning because your uncle Alec was saying that since the funeral Nicholas has been pulling against the apron strings and he hasn’t been as keen as doing his mother’s bidding as he was. Even argued with her, he said, and he had never heard him do that before.’

  ‘I’m surprised Uncle Alec has had nothing to say about it before now,’ Meg said.

  ‘He did try to have a hand in raising the boy at first,’ Rosie said, ‘but Susan made it plain that rearing her child was her business. A man can be too easy-going, and that is our Alec. The general consensus is that Alec is a decent enough fellow, but that Susan is rather snooty, and the way she keeps her lad to his books is neither right nor healthy. Turning him into a mommy’s boy, people say. And for a quiet life Alec has sat back and let her ruin the lad.’

  Meg hadn’t thought Nicholas ruined, just lonely, and so she was pleased when Terry came in the following Saturday morning after playing football in Calthorpe Park with his friends to say that Nicholas had not only turned up to play with them but had brought a proper leather ball. Charlie, who had just come home from work for his dinner, was also surprised at what Terry had said. ‘That’s a turn-up for the books, ain’t it?’

  Terry nodded. ‘I’ll say it is.

  ‘Never even knew he owned a football.’

  ‘Nor me,’ Terry said. ‘It’s brand-new, like: never been used.’

  ‘Is he any good at football?’ Meg asked.

  ‘No he ain’t,’ Terry said emphatically. ‘He’s flipping useless. Our Billy could play better than him. He don’t even play football at his school. He plays summat called “rugger”. Anyway,’ he added, ‘he said he’ll have to learn the rules so he is going with his dad to a match this afternoon.’

  Nicholas didn’t enjoy the football match because he barely knew his cousins. In the company of Uncle Robert’s sons, Stan and Dave, he felt like a baby. Dave was the same age as Nicholas but in September he had joined his father at Dunlop’s, where sixteen-year-old Stan had been working for two years. As they barely knew Nicholas they tended to talk mainly to Terry.

  And Nicholas decided it was all very well for his mother to crow on about how getting a good education now would mean a better job in the future, Nicholas thought, but in the meantime these were his relatives and the people he lived among, and he hardly knew them. He hadn’t made friends with many boys at school either, because most of them came from much more affluent backgrounds and he was nervous about their finding out he lived in a back-to-back house. There were bullies at the school who he was sure would make his life a misery if it ever got out. In contrast, there hadn’t got to be any pretence with his cousins, so he decided there and then to get to know them better, to take charge of his own life and try and make his mother understand that he wasn’t a little boy any more.

  By the end of October Meg knew she had to get some winter clothes for Ruth, when she did the usual Friday shopping. Charlie had given her the extra money she had asked for and Terry had told her to go ahead and not to rush back, that they could make something for themselves at lunchtime.

  Meg thought it was nice to be able to take her time and not have one eye on the clock, so after she had bought her usual purchases, she and Billy made for the Market Hall. As usual the pram was carried up the steps by willing helpers and Billy had his play with the animals at Pimm’s pet shop before they set off to look around the stalls for clothes for Ruth. They watched the clock strike midday and then Meg found a stall with some beautiful baby clothes, including a fair number of winter-weight dresses. Most were not new, but Ruth wouldn’t care about that. They were very pretty, for although they were mainly white or cream they had pretty designs on them or beautiful smocking or contrasting collars. There were fluffy little cardigans and warm pram sets with matching bonnets and bootees, and they were all so reasonable she was pleased to be able to buy a big bundle of clothing.

  ‘All for you, this is, miss,’ she told the baby, who rewarded her with a smile.

  ‘Well, long time no see,’ said a voice beside her.

  Meg swung round. ‘Joy,’ she cried. ‘How lovely to see you again.’

  ‘Yes,’ Joy agreed. ‘I come here most Fridays and have a mooch round and a bite to eat usually, in the café. Like to join me and we can have a natter?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think …’

  Joy knew what was bothering Meg. ‘My treat today,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—’

  ‘Course you could,’ Joy said. ‘Got paid today so I’m flush at the moment.’ And then she glanced at Billy and with a wink she said, ‘Bet you’d like something to eat?’

  Billy, who was always hungry, nodded his head with gusto. ‘Not half,’ he said.

  Joy laughed. ‘Come on,’ she urged. ‘You can’t leave yet anyway ’cos it’s pouring.’

  Joy was right, Meg realised, for outside the rain was coming down in sheets. ‘Just a cup of tea then,’ she conceded.

  But Joy wasn’t content for Meg to sit there with just a cup of tea and she ordered egg on toast for the three of them, followed by doughnuts. What impressed Billy most was the fact that she got tea for him too, which he often didn’t get at home, and she didn’t mind that he put three spoonfuls of sugar in it. Although he saw Meg frown at him, he took no heed of that, knowing that she was unlikely to tell him off in front of her friend.

  After they had finished Meg fed Ruth, and still they talked on. Billy swung his legs and listened while he licked the sugar off his fingers. Joy felt immeasurably sorry for Meg, who, though her little brother was sweet and the baby delightful, wouldn’t be able to have any sort of life for many years.

  Meanwhile Joy was enjoying her new-found freedom and the money she earned each week. Some she had to pay to her mother, but what she had left was enough to buy clothes in the Bull Ring, or C & A Modes for better-quality clothes. She also went to the pictures once a week and had started taking dancing lessons with friends she had been to school with. She had been drawn to make friends with Meg from the day she had taken her up for her interview in Lewis’s and now she felt she would like to help her in some way.

  �
�How about if we meet up here every Friday?’ she suggested.

  Meg shook her head. ‘I have to be back by lunchtime. The children come home for dinner, you see. Today they are seeing to themselves,’ she added, ‘because I had to buy Ruth some new clothes.’

  ‘How old is your eldest brother?’

  ‘Terry’s twelve.’

  ‘So say you left soup or something?’ Joy persisted. ‘He’s old enough to dish it up and get them all back to school on time.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Meg said. ‘My dad might not like it.’

  ‘What difference would it make to him?’

  ‘None, I suppose,’ Meg said. ‘It’s just I’ve got out of the habit of thinking about myself.’

  ‘Then start again,’ Joy said. ‘God blimey, Meg, you’re a long time dead.’

  Meg’s laugh startled the drowsy baby a little and Joy said, ‘Why don’t you put it to your dad? I’m sure he will see no harm in it. Anyway,’ she said, getting to her feet, ‘must be away or I’ll be getting my cards, but I’ll be here next week about the same time if you can make it.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Meg promised, and she sat enviously watching her friend returning to work while she held Ruth against her shoulder, rubbing her back in case she had wind.

  SIX

  Meg might never have got round to mentioning her meeting Joy if it hadn’t been for Billy telling them that evening about meeting a kind lady.

  ‘And who is this kind lady?’ Charlie asked.

  Billy shrugged and said, ‘Dunno, but she bought us egg on toast and doughnuts and her name is Joy and she don’t half talk a lot.’

  They all laughed and Terry put in, ‘Surprised you noticed that, Billy. Bit like pot calling kettle.’ for everyone knew Billy was a chatterbox.

  Charlie, though, was more interested in who the ‘kind lady’ was. He knew because of what she had taken on that Meg had few friends now, and certainly not one who would treat her and her young brother to egg on toast and doughnuts.

  ‘Billy’s right,’ she told her father. ‘Her name is Joy, Joy Tranter. She’s the girl from Lewis’s that took me up to the interview the day Mom fell in the yard.’

  ‘Fancy her remembering you all this time.’

  Meg nodded. ‘Yeah, I know. I mean only saw her for a short time and yet we sort of hit it off. I thought we might have become friends if I’d worked there.’

  Charlie heard the wistfulness in Meg’s voice and felt guilty that she had no friends her own age. ‘Haven’t you seen her since?’

  ‘Just once before today,’ Meg said. ‘She goes to the Bull Ring often on a Friday because it’s her pay day and she has a mooch around the shops and treats herself to a snack in the Market Hall café, but normally I have to be home for the children at twelve so I leave before her dinner hour.’

  ‘So what happened today?’

  ‘I had to buy some winter clothes for Ruth today, remember?’ Meg said. ‘The children sorted themselves out.’

  ‘And it did them no harm, I would say,’ Charlie said. He looked from one child to the other. ‘Did it?’

  ‘No, Dad,’ they chorused.

  ‘So can you do that every Friday so Meg has a chance to meet her friend?’

  They all nodded solemnly, and Meg was touched by her father’s consideration and the children falling in with his plan so readily. ‘I didn’t think you would be so keen on me going every week.’

  ‘Why on earth not?’ Charlie said. ‘God, Meg it’s not much to ask.’

  ‘And I am not helpless,’ Terry said. ‘I am twelve, you know, not two.’

  ‘I could leave you some soup or something just to heat up.’

  ‘There’s no need.’

  ‘Well, I’ll leave the details up to you,’ Charlie said. ‘But in the meantime, Meg, while it was very nice of your friend to treat you today, I shouldn’t think she earns that much so she wouldn’t want to do it every week.’

  ‘I shouldn’t want her to do it either,’ Meg said.

  ‘No, I will give you separate money for yourself.’

  ‘How?’ Meg asked. She knew how finely the finances were balanced.

  ‘Never you mind how,’ Charlie said, knowing he would have to cut back on the ciggies and beer to give Meg an extra five bob a week, but he thought there was nothing to be gained by telling her this.

  Christmas grew nearer. Although it was only six months since their mother died Meg wanted to make Christmas Day a special one for Jenny, Sally and Billy, who still believed in Santa Claus.

  Her aunt Rosie could see her point and suggested Meg talk to her father lest he be upset, so she mentioned it to him as they sat over a cup of tea one evening. He was quiet when she had finished and she feared she had offended him.

  ‘Do you think me awful, Dad?

  ‘For what exactly?’

  ‘You know, planning to celebrate Christmas and all with Mom dead less than six months?’

  Charlie thought for a little while and then he said, ‘No, Meg I don’t think you’re awful. You knew your mother almost as well as I did and she wouldn’t have wanted us to mourn for ever.’

  Meg nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘Or for the young ones to miss out because she isn’t here anymore. She loved everything about Christmas,’ Charlie said, and a smile tugged at his mouth as he recalled his wife’s excitement in past years as the season approached.

  Meg smiled in memory too. ‘Yes, she was worse than the children, stringing up the streamers and decorations and adorning the tree.

  ‘She never minded all the cooking,’ Charlie said. ‘She revelled in it, she did, and the house used to smell beautiful with all the delicious food and cakes and puddings and all she cooked. Do you remember?’

  ‘Of course.’ Her mother’s enthusiasm had engendered a love of Christmas in all of the children; even Meg’s toes would curl in anticipation as it grew near.

  ‘Do you know what I think we must do?’ Charlie said suddenly. ‘This is our first Christmas without Maeve and we owe it to her to have the very best Christmas we can in her memory. That would be what she would want us to do, and for children that means presents.’

  ‘I’ve been saving for months,’ Meg said proudly.

  ‘So how much have you saved?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Nearly two pounds and ten shillings.’

  ‘Well done,’ said Charlie. ‘You’re almost as good a manager as your mother.’

  That was high praise indeed, for her father was always saying her mother could make sixpence do the work of a shilling, and then he surprised her still further by putting a ten-pound note in her hand. She had never seen so much money at one time and she stared at it in amazement. ‘Where did you get it?’

  Charlie laughed. ‘You can get that look off your face, girl, because I didn’t rob a bank. It’s part of the Christmas Club that I have to pay into every year. It’s taken out of my wages and ensures that we all have a good Christmas. Use it to get some things for the young ones, at least.’

  ‘I will, Daddy,’ Meg said. Joy’s going to help me choose because she said it is lovely to buy presents for children who still believe. And it is, so thanks for this.’

  ‘I don’t need thanks,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m their father and I know it will be a tough time. Perhaps it will help if they have presents they will enjoy opening on Christmas morning.’

  Meg bought skipping ropes for the girls and more toy cars for Billy and a spinning top for each, which Joy encouraged her to buy. Seeing Meg hesitate, the coster wound up three spinning tops. ‘Just a tanner each,’ he said. ‘Watch this.’ And he set them off so they danced along the stall, twirling like dervishes so that the patterns on them melded into rings of vibrant colours. ‘On the table, on the chair, little devils go everywhere,’ he chanted. Meg, knowing the children would be delighted with them, parted with one and six.

  ‘What about your older brother?’ Joy asked as they turned away from the stall.

  ‘A model,’ Meg said decide
dly, heading for the Hobbies shop. ‘He loves making up sailing ships. He has quite few but there are bound to be some he hasn’t got yet.’

  There were, of course, and then Meg picked up the Swiss army knife that she had seen Terry lusting over, a large bag of marbles for Billy, and a set of rattles and building blocks for Ruth. And from Woolworth’s opposite the Market Hall she got some ribbons and slides for Jenny and Sally’s hair, colouring books and crayons for the three youngest and a bottle of whiskey for her father.

  ‘I just love Christmas, don’t you?’ Joy said a little later in the Market Hall as she placed her bowl of soup on the table.

  ‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘And Mom did.’

  Joy gasped. ‘Oh, Meg, I’m sorry.’

  Meg shrugged. ‘’S’all right,’ she said. ‘Dad said we must make it a special time for the others, that she would want us to. Like he said, we can’t mourn for ever.’

  That night, with the children in bed, Meg showed Terry and her father the things she had bought for her younger brother and sisters. Charlie smiled proudly and said she was getting more like her mother every day.

  The children entered into the spirit of the occasion, weaving garlands to be pinned around the house, helping decorate the tree Charlie had unearthed from the cupboard in the attic, and making a wish as they stirred the Christmas pudding Meg had made with more than a bit of help from May.

  A few days before Christmas Eve, a large crate was delivered to the house. The children were at school and Billy was at May’s house ‘helping’ her make mince pies, so Meg could open the crate from her mother’s family in America, which she found was filled with presents for them all.

  There were beautiful rag dolls for Sally and Jenny. They had pretty painted faces and dark brown hair in plaits, the ends tied with shiny ribbons. The clothes, too, were magnificent: they were dressed in Victorian costume, even down to the pantaloons and petticoats, with velvet dresses. Jenny’s doll wore dark red and Sally’s midnight blue, and the dresses were decorated with lace at the neck and cuffs of the sleeves, with a matching jacket over that and black leather boots covering their cloth feet. Meg knew that the girls would be almost speechless at owing such beautiful dolls; even Jenny, who had said only the other day that she was getting too old to play with them. But not dolls like these, Meg was sure – no one in the streets around them would have anything so fine.