A Girl Can Dream

by Anne Bennett

  ‘Well, you did right to bite him,’ Joy declared, smiling at the little girl. ‘Bloody right.’

  ‘Loody right,’ Ruth repeated.

  Meg glared at Joy and she said, ‘Sorry, I forgot, but isn’t it terrible that people like him get away with things all the time?’

  ‘Yeah, it is,’ Meg said. ‘And I think that’s what will tip us into war in the end, stopping Hitler getting away with things.’

  ‘Oh, I think you’ve hit the nail on the head there, Meg,’ Joy said.

  There was a spate of marriages in the following weeks, for most people now thought war was inevitable, and Charlie and Doris couldn’t get a date on which to be married as quickly as they wanted.

  As Meg thought about her father being called up, she remembered the men who would stand with trays around their necks on the steps to the Market Hall in the Bull Ring, selling bootlaces, matches, razor blades and the like. One was blind and led about by friends, and another was missing an arm; one had no legs at all and was pushed about in a homemade trolley, and there were a couple who shook badly. Dad had told her they were like flotsam from the last war: men who had served their usefulness now thrown on to the scrapheap. Sometimes he would complain that they had enough razor blades and bootlaces to stock a shoe shop because Maeve had always found it hard to pass the men without pulling out her purse. ‘We owe these men such a lot,’ she’d tell the children. ‘It grieves me to see them reduced to this.’

  There hadn’t been so many ex-soldiers around of late, though, and Meg could only imagine that they had obtained employment somewhere and that would more than likely be war-related. The lines of the unemployed had dwindled vastly, which must have been good news for many families.

  ‘Well, it’s an ill wind,’ Joy said when Meg commented on this.

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘I should imagine that if you want to wage war you will need a great deal of stuff that you wouldn’t want in peacetime.’

  ‘That’s true enough,’ Meg said. ‘Even at Dunlop’s they are making tyres for military vehicles now.’

  ‘There you are,’ Joy said. ‘And many of these jobs will have to be managed by women.’

  ‘Not at the Dunlop factory and places like that, though?’

  ‘Well, who will do it if the men aren’t here?’

  Meg wrinkled her nose. ‘I wouldn’t fancy it,’ she said. ‘I mean, Dad stinks of rubber; it’s ingrained in his skin, his hair, everything really, and I can’t see any woman wanting to do that.’

  ‘If it comes to war, Meg, maybe we can’t just do the things we’d like to do,’ Joy said. ‘I mean, do you think all the lads called up wanted to be soldiers? Do you think they will enjoy finding out how to kill people and trying not to get killed themselves?’

  ‘I see what you say and you’re right,’ Meg said. ‘So we have to do our bit as well.’

  She had a lot to think about as she made her way home that day, weaving the pram between the stalls while Ruth lay back against the pillows drowsily. And so lost was she in thought that she almost cannoned into a woman standing at one of the stalls.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she burst out, and the woman turned.

  She was about to reassure Meg that it was all right, but the words died in her throat and instead she cried, ‘Meg Hallett.’

  Meg was equally surprised. ‘Miss Carmichael.’

  The teacher recovered herself first. ‘How lovely to see you, my dear, and your sister looks well,’ she said, gazing at Ruth fondly. Ruth smiled at her drowsily as Miss Carmichael said, ‘She is a credit to you, Meg.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Meg said, and added a little wistfully, ‘but I won’t have the children to look after much longer.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Dad’s getting married again.’

  ‘Oh, that is good news,’ Miss Carmichael said, surprised Meg wasn’t more pleased.

  ‘Yes,’ Meg said in flat tones, and Miss Carmichael deduced that all was not well.

  ‘Look,’ she said, ‘have you to rush back home?’

  Meg shook her head. ‘Not till four, when the children come out of school.’

  ‘And Ruth looks as if she won’t be any trouble,’ Miss Carmichael said, for Ruth’s eyes were closing. ‘So let’s go and have a cup of tea and a real catch-up?’

  Meg moved Ruth gently down the pram, and though she wriggled about a little getting comfier, her eyes stayed closed. ‘But what about school?’ she asked her old teacher.

  ‘I’m playing hooky,’ Kate said with a broad smile. ‘I haven’t to go anywhere either in a hurry, so shall we try Lyons Corner House on New Street and I’ll tell you all then?’

  As they started up the incline that led from the Bull Ring to High Street, Miss Carmichael said, ‘And as we’re no longer in the school, you can call me by my given name – Catherine – though I am usually called Kate.’

  Meg wondered if she’d ever have the neck to do that, but she nodded anyway, remembering how she had once thought the world of her lovely young teacher. She had spent hours gazing at her in the classroom. Her hair, as dark brown as Meg’s own, was always put up for school and fastened with lovely tortoiseshell combs, and her soft eyes were dark grey. Her smooth skin reminded Meg of her mother’s but her lips were fuller and her teeth absolutely white. Meg hadn’t seen her for two years, since she had come to the house to express her condolences at hearing of her mother’s death, for though she had glimpsed her at Mass a time or two, even if Kate Carmichael had been inclined to chat, Meg never had much time to linger.

  The eyes she fastened on Meg were sympathetic and a little curious but the tea and buns were in front of them before Kate asked Meg directly why she was unhappy with having a stepmother.

  ‘None of the kids like her,’ Meg began. ‘It’s like she’s replacing our mother, who hasn’t really been dead that long. I told Dad to take it slow, let them get used to it, like and … I don’t know, maybe he would have done but for this war. Dad’s worried that if he is called up, the Welfare people might say I’m too young to look after the kids by myself and take them away.’

  ‘There is a chance of that,’ Kate Carmichael said. ‘Do you like her?’

  Meg shook her head. ‘No, and she doesn’t like me. I think she resents the fact that because I had to take the place of my mother, especially as my father was lost for a time and someone had to steer the ship, I am used to making decisions that I probably shouldn’t have had to make.’

  ‘What about your siblings?’

  Meg gave a rueful smile. ‘They would like no one that tried to take the place of our mother and Doris doesn’t really understand kids because she’s never had any, so I thought I could stick around for a bit after Dad married her and give her a bit of a hand, but she’s made it clear she doesn’t want that, I think because she doesn’t want me to have any undue influence on Dad.’

  ‘Well, I suppose it might help that situation if you try and get some kind of job.’

  Meg nodded. ‘My friend Joy thinks we should do something for the war. I mean, it really does seem inevitable now, doesn’t it?’

  Kate nodded. ‘I’m afraid it does. You could enlist, join one of the services.’

  ‘I thought of that,’ Meg said. ‘That’s what my cousins Anna and Lizzie are doing. They are getting married soon and said if their husbands are prepared to put their lives on the line, they want to do their bit too. But I couldn’t keep an eye on the kids if I enlisted and I’m hoping that I’ll be able to do something a bit closer to home.’

  ‘Well, the children may not be with her long anyway, not if she doesn’t want them to be.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Kate ignored Meg’s question and instead said, ‘I’m in town for a medical.’

  ‘Medical?’ Meg repeated. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Not a thing,’ Kate said. ‘In fact the doctor said I am a very healthy specimen, all told.’

  ‘Then why …?’

  ‘It’s because of the evacu
ation plans,’ Kate said. ‘Getting the children out of the cities to safer places in the countryside. Our school is being evacuated along with many more, and I offered to go with ours because – unlike some of the other members of staff – I have no ties. They insisted I have a medical.’

  Meg felt quite agitated. ‘But, Miss Carmichael,’ she said. ‘Kate. People can’t just send children away from home like that.’

  ‘It’s what’s proposed.’

  ‘But they will be with perfect strangers,’ Meg said, and she shook her head. ‘It can’t be right and I can’t see Dad agreeing to it. There was talk of sending Billy and Sally to Mom’s parents in Ireland after she died and, although Dad was tempted, he wouldn’t do it in the end.’

  ‘But there wasn’t a threat of war then,’ Kate pointed out. ‘If it comes we will be attacked from the air.’

  ‘I read in the paper that we are two hundred miles from the coast.’

  ‘That’s nothing, in the modern planes they have today,’ Kate said. ‘Anyway, I think keeping the children safe is only part of the Government’s plan. Another thing is to release mothers from childcare so that they can go into war work and we’ll need them to do that because if here is a war it will be one that we must win. Have you considered the Land Army?’

  ‘Land Army?’ Meg repeated with scorn. ‘How will it help the war effort growing potatoes?’

  ‘Meg, people have got to eat,’ Kate said. ‘How can the farmers produce the food we need if their sons and farm hands are called up? It’s really essential work and you would be out in the air and not enclosed in some factory. They provide housing too. And I suppose you could ask to be billeted close to home, or at least near a train line that comes this way.’

  Meg laughed. ‘Don’t be daft, Kate. There are precious few farms in Birmingham.’

  ‘Plenty just outside, though,’ Kate said. ‘Put it to your friend next week and see what she thinks.’

  The idea of joining the Land Army played on Meg’s mind, and the more she thought of it, the more she liked the idea, but she did wonder how her father would cope with the fact that she would be leaving home. As the date for the wedding grew closer, though, Doris began to really irritate Meg to such an extent that she only had to hear her voice to set her teeth on edge. She knew that there was no room for her and Doris in the one house, but she could hardly tell her father that and so she decided she should find out all she could about the Land Army.

  At first she didn’t know where to start, but May helped out there. One day when they had both finished the ironing and stopped for a cup of tea, Meg told her about meeting Kate Carmichael and her suggestion for war-related work.

  Immediately May said, ‘My youngest sister, Phoebe, did that in the last war. God! Our old man kicked up shocking. I was glad I was married and out of it.’

  ‘Was it about her leaving home?’

  ‘Yes,’ May said. ‘Well, you see, girls didn’t, not till they were married, like. Anyway, she stuck to her guns. She said if Dan and Derek could go to war then she wanted to do her bit too.’

  ‘Were Dan and Derek your brothers?’

  A flash of sadness showed in May’s eyes as she nodded. ‘Yes, and they were called up along with John, who was the husband of my sister Sadie, and my Mick. And,’ she added, ‘Mick was the only one to make it home.’

  ‘Oh, how sad,’ Meg said. ‘I never knew that.’

  ‘No reason for you to know,’ May said. ‘It was many years ago and it was only brought to mind because of what you said about the Land Army.’

  ‘Did your sister like it?’

  ‘Well, she would say she did even if she hated it, because she had to fight so hard to be allowed to go,’ May said. ‘That was the type of girl young Phoebe was. She did tell me that the work was harder than she’d thought it would be and Dad needn’t worry that she was up to no good for all she wanted to do at the end of the day was sleep. But she said no one bothered complaining and they all put their backs into it, whatever they were asked to do, because they knew what they did was vital. If it didn’t get done we could all have starved to death.’

  ‘Do you really think it’s that important?’

  ‘I don’t think, I know it is,’ May said. ‘If I were you, I would go down to Thorp Street Barracks and find out all about it.’

  TWELVE

  In the end Meg never got to Thorp Street Barracks because as Doris went on with her elaborate plans for her wedding, Ruth’s second birthday passed with barely a ripple from her father. Meg, determined the child should not be side-lined, had been saving for weeks to buy her a beautiful rag doll she had seen in the Bull Ring and Aunt Rosie had knitted clothes for it. Jenny and Sally, with no money for presents, unearthed the pram and crib they’d had when they’d been younger, which they cleaned up beautifully, and Terry bought Ruth a ‘Monkey on a Stick’, which he had seen at the Bull Ring. Yet from her father she didn’t even get a card.

  When Meg reminded him of his own child’s birthday, he just shrugged.

  ‘I have no money to spare, and that’s the truth,’ he said. ‘And sure, she’s little more than a baby and will hardly notice.’

  Meg was too angry even to speak to him after that, but she went ahead with having a little tea party. Aunt Rosie came with a jelly and blancmange and a large tin full of fancy fairy cakes, and even Nicholas came laden with a massive plate of sandwiches his mother had made. Added to that, Meg had made a large chocolate cake, into which she had stuck two candles. Everyone tucked into the food and helped Ruth blow out the candles and she clapped her hands with delight. ‘Happy birthday, Ruth,’ Meg said, and planted a kiss on her little sister’s head.

  Ruth beamed. She had no idea what all the fuss was about, but she liked it none the less and, not used to presents, was enthralled by those she had been given. ‘Appy birday,’ she said in an attempt to imitate her sister, and made everyone laugh.

  Best of all, though, in Meg’s opinion, was that when her father and Doris came home there was no dinner for them. It was light summer evening, and when she saw them turn in the road, Meg sent the children out to play, taking Ruth with them. With the children safely out of the way, she faced her father and Doris and told them there was no meal ready and she had no intention of making any. ‘Even if I wanted to cook you something,’ she said, ‘I have no money left for I spent it all on a present and little party for Ruth. It was up to us to give her a nice day and make up for your lack of attention. Her needs came before yours and if you don’t like that, then you’ll have to lump it.’

  Charlie knew nothing he could say or do would work when Meg had that set face on. Doris had plenty she wanted to say, but she saw what Meg had said to Charlie had made him feel guilty and so she tucked her arm through his. ‘Come, my dear,’ she said, and they left the house together – and that was another night Charlie did not come home.

  That night Meg did a lot of thinking. Because Ruth had been born on the day her mother died, on her first birthday, the loss of her mother was still very much in Meg’s mind and she thought in her father’s as well. She could well understand that perhaps he did not want to celebrate the anniversary of his wife’s death. However, she imagined that he would eventually come to terms with the fact that Maeve’s death was in no way Ruth’s fault and start acting as a proper father to her.

  Now, though, the situation was different. He was no longer grieving for her mother, but was instead planning to marry another and yet his antipathy towards Ruth was more entrenched than ever. She imagined the scenario if Ruth was left totally in the care of her father and Doris, or Doris alone if her father was called up. The children would be evacuated, she was certain, as soon as Doris got wind that it was happening, so there might be just her and the small child in the house together.

  She gave a sudden shiver because she had seen enough of Doris to guess that latent cruelty lay just below the surface. So how could she think of waltzing off in the Land Army and leave her little sister totally unprotected?
She had to stay close by. Maybe it might stay Doris’s hand if she knew she was popping in every evening and she could take her totally off her hands at the weekends. No, until Ruth was a lot older Meg’s life was on hold again. She would tell Joy all about the Land Army in case she wanted to go for it, but accepted that it was not for her yet.

  The children broke up for the long summer holidays on Thursday and so were at home and willing to mind Ruth while Meg met Joy in the Bull Ring the following day. It meant Meg could avoid the rent man completely if she left early enough.

  Since Ruth had bitten Flatterly, Meg had dreaded meeting him again and though she had decided to tell her father nothing of the encounter, she had told the children an edited version and they promised to keep Ruth out of the landlord’s sight. Once Doris took over she would be paying the rent and Meg wished her well of it. Dealing effectively with the lecherous Richard Flatterly was one problem she didn’t mind relinquishing.

  So that day she was in the Bull Ring earlier than usual and had a good mooch around the stalls, listening to the banter from the costers as they plied their trade. Eventually she hailed Joy, whom she saw weaving her way towards the Market Hall. A little later over a cup of tea and a sandwich Meg told her friend about her old teacher’s suggestion. Joy thought it sounded just the thing, though she had a somewhat idealised view of what it might be like.

  ‘Better than a noisy, dirty factory any day of the week,’ she said. ‘Can you imagine it? We’ll be breathing in fresh air for once in our lives.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Meg said, and told her friend about the party, her father’s reaction to it and her subsequent decision.

  ‘Oh, what a shame,’ Joy cried. ‘I thought we’d be going together.’

  ‘I hoped we would,’ Meg said. ‘But you see why I can’t just go off and leave her?’