Can Dreams Come True?

by Oliver, Marina

  'Will you be all right now?'

  Kate nodded. 'Yes, I'll sit and rest for a while, and then I'll be fine.'

  The woman nodded, and moved away. 'Don't sit too long on the damp grass. You'll get cold, or let the damp seep through your coat. I'd stay with you, dear, but my daughter's expecting me and I'm late already.'

  'No, please go, I'm feeling much better already.'

  The woman nodded, and walked away. Kate still felt dizzy, but after a few minutes the cold revived her and she staggered to her feet, picked up her case, and walked slowly through the rest of the Park and towards Erdington.

  She reached the tram terminus to find she had just missed one, and would have to wait. She longed for a cup of tea, or water, anything to take away the foul taste in her mouth, and wondered if she dare use some of her small store of money to buy food. She felt for the purse and suddenly stiffened. Her pocket was empty, and so were all the others in her coat and dress. She must have dropped it when she was being sick.

  *

  Maggie got off the tram and asked the way to Oscott. She'd try the house first, for she didn't know where the shop was, and someone there would be able to tell her.

  'Old or New?'

  'I'm sorry, what do you mean?'

  'There's Old Oscott over towards Barr Beacon, and New Oscott along the Chester Road.'

  'Oh, I didn't know.' Maggie thought rapidly. 'Which is the biggest?'

  'New.'

  'Then please can you tell me the way there?'

  As she walked along she was thinking furiously. She hadn't known about the two different places, and had just addressed her letters to Kate at Oscott. Could they have gone astray? Yet surely someone would have realised, maybe tried the other village, or sent them back? At least they might have returned them to the postman. If that had happened, and Kate had never received her letters, she must be devastated, thinking her family had deserted her. The sooner Maggie found her and sorted this out the better.

  The house was called The Laurels, and surely it would not be so difficult to find it. From what Mrs Carstairs had told Hattie it was such a small place that no street name was necessary. And if it was not in New Oscott she would try the other.

  It was much bigger than Maggie had expected, with many new, large houses covering a good deal of land. A postman delivering letters tried to be helpful, but he told her there were several houses called The Laurels, and several families by the name of Wilson, but he couldn't think of a Wilson living in a house of that name.

  'But I don't do the lot,' he said apologetically. 'It's grown so big now they've split the round. Mebbee you should try the main post office in Sutton?'

  'Are there any dress shops in Oscott?' she asked. 'The Wilsons own one, I believe.'

  'None I know of. There's more in Sutton.'

  Maggie sighed. She must ask there. And unless she were fortunate quickly she'd have to start back home. Goodness only knew when she'd be able to take off another Saturday to continue the search. She decided not to come on a Sunday, which had been her first plan, because there were fewer buses, and the shop would not be open, so Kate might not be there. Her boss had grumbled, especially after all the time she'd had to have off to look after Hattie, and she was afraid of losing her job. That would be a disaster, even though Sam seemed to be doing more overtime, and was bringing in more money than he'd ever had before.

  She was walking towards the High Street when she saw, across the road, a large dress shop with the name Wilson above it. Could it be this easy? She crossed the road, spent a few minutes admiring the window displays, and then went inside. It was a good class shop, clean and spacious, and she thought Kate must enjoy working here. She looked round, saw an older woman standing behind one counter, watching a young girl fold up a selection of scarves and put them away in a drawer.

  'Excuse me, are you Mrs Wilson?' she asked when the girl had finished.

  'Yes, Madam, how can I help you?'

  Her voice was polite, but Maggie flushed at the way the woman's gaze swept over her one coat. It was shabby, she knew, but there was no call for the woman to curl her lips so disdainfully. Maggie was determined not to be intimidated.

  'I'm looking for my sister, Kate Martins. I think she may work here.'

  Mrs Wilson's face grew red. 'Really? She did, but she does no longer.'

  'She's left? Where is she?'

  'That I'm afraid I cannot tell you. I don't know where she went after she left here. Good day to you.'

  Maggie's heart sank. What in the world had happened? Why would Kate have left what, apart from this woman's attitude, must have been congenial work after the jobs she had been doing in the markets?

  'Might any of the other girls know where she is? I've come all the way from Coventry to try and find her, to ask why my letters have not been answered.'

  'I imagine she had more interesting occupations in her spare time than to bother writing to her family,' Mrs Wilson snapped. 'And the others will not know where she is. She left in a hurry, and in any case she did not mix with girls.'

  By now Maggie was thoroughly incensed with the woman's rudeness. 'Just what do yer mean by that?' she demanded, her voice raised in mingled anger and dismay.

  Mrs Wilson sneered. 'What do you think I mean? Now remove yourself from my premises, or I will get the men to throw you out.'

  'When did Kate leave?'

  'Get out. I am not obliged to answer your questions.'

  Maggie knew it was hopeless, but she waited outside the shop in the hope that one of the girls, who might have overheard the loud exchange, would talk to her. Half an hour later a young girl appeared from a side door, and after a swift look round beckoned Maggie to follow her. She led the way into a narrow entry which led to the back of a shop a little further along, and Maggie hurried after her.

  'Do you know our Kate? When did she leave, and do yer know why?' Maggie demanded.

  'I'm Nellie, I was her friend. I'm so glad you're still here. She went early this morning, but I don't know why. Mrs Wilson won't say, she just muttered something about good riddance when I asked her where Kate was. She hasn't been well, but she's been doing her work.'

  'And you've no idea why?'

  'No. I'm sorry.'

  'Where did she stay? I understood she was to have a room in Mrs Wilson's house.'

  'No, she had one above the shop. Most of us live at home, and this room hadn't been used for ages.'

  Maggie was silent.

  'She never said much about her family,' Nellie offered. 'I only knew she came from Birmingham.'

  'Let's hope she's gone back there, and I'll find her when I get back. Thanks, Nellie, you've been helpful. I hope you don't get into trouble, Mrs Wilson's a tartar.'

  Nellie laughed. 'She is that! But I'm supposed to be having my lunch break, and they don't mind if we slip out to do a bit of shopping instead. Ask Kate to write. She knows where I live, and I want to know what happened. Give her my love.'

  'I will.'

  'Let me get away first before you go.'

  'And then I'd best be getting straight home. Kate might be only an hour or so in front of me,' she said to herself as Nellie slipped away.

  *

  'Do you have to go back tomorrow?' Daphne asked wistfully. It had been a delightful two months, with Robert here in Paris and able to meet her frequently. 'I shall miss you. I've enjoyed coming to these art exhibitions with you, and visiting the theatre.' Most of all, she added silently, she enjoyed their visits to restaurants, or when they sat outside small cafés when the weather was warm enough. Then she could pretend their friendship was greater than it seemed, imagine that they were a couple, engaged or married.

  'I'll miss you too, but I'll be back again at the end of April. Are you coming home for Easter?'

  'No, my parents are coming here instead, and we'll be going to the south. It doesn't seem possible that half the year has gone, and in July I'll be at home for good.'

  'Until you marry.'

&nb
sp; Daphne looked swiftly at him. Had that remark held any significance? But he was looking at the paintings they had come to see. She sighed. It had been no more than an idle remark. He still seemed to treat her as his friend's little sister, a girl he'd volunteered to entertain. She wondered suddenly whether he did regard it as an obligation. If he did his innate politeness would prevent him from showing it. 'I intend to apply to the University to study medicine,' she said briefly.

  'Good for you. We need more female doctors. My mother wrote that she had consulted one, and she seemed more sympathetic than old Doctor Anderson.'

  'Are you seeing friends tonight?' she asked. 'Theo, or Pierre?'

  'They're colleagues, I said farewell to them this morning. Will you dine with me?'

  'I'd love to, but I won't have time to go back and change.'

  'No matter, we can go somewhere quiet, unfashionable, where they won't notice.'

  'I'd better telephone to let them know I'll be late back. It's fortunate they're far from strict.'

  Robert laughed. 'I'm not sure your parents would approve of that.'

  'But they don't mind when I'm with you. Let's walk along the river for a while, watch the sunset.'

  She forced herself to chatter brightly, be entertaining, until they were in a cab heading for her finishing school. Then she grew silent, and when the cab swung round a corner too fast and she was thrown against Robert, she gave a sob and stayed there.

  'Daphne, what is it? Were you hurt?' Robert asked, putting his arm round her.

  'No, not really. I – oh Robert, I shall miss you so much!' She turned her face up towards him, and knew her eyes were full of tears.

  'I'll soon be back,' he said, too bracingly.

  'Kiss me,' Daphne demanded, lost to all sense of propriety.

  She felt Robert stiffen, and then he laughed slightly, uneasily, she thought, and dropped a perfunctory kiss on the end of her nose.

  'Come, Daphne, I didn't realise you were so homesick. Your parents will soon be here.'

  How could he be so obtuse? She twisted round and clung to him, her shoulders shaking, and he stroked and gentled her as though she were a startled horse. This time when she raised her face and he bent towards her she put her arms round his neck, pulled him further down, and moved her head so that their lips met.

  'Oh, Robert!'

  To her fury the cab stopped at that moment and Robert disentangled himself. 'Here we are, Daphne. Now dry those tears, use my handkerchief, and be a good girl. Your parents will soon be here, and if you are so unhappy I'm sure they'd let you go home.'

  When you'll be here again soon, she asked herself, smiling secretly. No, she'd made some progress tonight, and he hadn't once asked about Kate. Here in Paris she saw far more of him than in Birmingham, and with the factory almost ready to start production he would be here for most of the summer. If she couldn't make him propose before she had to go home she hadn't learned much at this expensive academy.

  *

  Kate almost ran back to the Park, dragging her case which grew heavier by the minute. She found the spot where she had been sick, and searched wildly all around, but found nothing. Her purse was not here. Had she dropped it somewhere else, before she reached this spot? But she was sure she'd pushed it deep down into her pocket so that in normal circumstances it could not fall out.

  Maybe the woman who had helped her had picked it up and taken it to the Police Station? She'd have to go there and ask. Or someone else had seen it. Would they have handed it in?

  Wearily she made her way back into Sutton, but the police had no record of any purse being found.

  'Sorry love,' the sympathetic constable on the desk said. 'This woman who you say helped you, could she have taken it from your pocket? While you were – distracted, like?'

  'But she was kind, and spoke nicely,' Kate said, shocked. 'I'm sure she wasn't a thief!'

  He sighed. 'I've met some charming villains, Miss. Leave your name and address, and a description, and if we get it handed in I'll let you know.'

  All Kate could do was give him Maggie's address in Coventry. She would be staying there, she told him. Pride forbade her from saying she now had no money to get there. She'd walk, even if it took her days, she decided as she went out into the street. It was about seven miles to the centre of Birmingham, perhaps twice as far again to Coventry. It might be shorter if she went direct, but she was sure to be lost in the maze of lanes, and she felt safer in the city, more used to it.

  As she walked along she made plans. She'd go to the market, where she might be able to scrounge some discarded vegetables. She was beginning to feel hungry, for it was now the middle of the day, and she had lost her breakfast. Then she'd see whether she could find the derelict house where they had lived, or another similar where she could shelter for the night. Tomorrow she'd start to walk to Coventry. Seven miles, say, to the Bull Ring. She could manage two miles an hour, with frequent rests, for the case was becoming heavy. She'd be there before it was dark. Then, if her legs and feet could endure it, she might reach Coventry the following afternoon. Beyond that she refused to think. She had Maggie's address, and she could work for a while. Plenty of women worked right up to day their babies were born. If only Maggie had room for her and would not turn her away in disgust.

  She had to take more frequent rests than she'd planned, she felt so weak and light-headed from lack of food. It was dusk when she finally reached the Bull Ring. Kate sank down on the steps of the Market Hall, too weary to go a step further until she had rested again.

  The noise and bustle swirled around her, but she was oblivious, resting her head on her knees, but keeping a firm hold on the case by her side. If that were stolen she'd be truly destitute. After a while she began to think more clearly again. Were the pawn shops open still? She could pawn one of her new skirts, and then she could afford to go to Coventry by bus. She glanced around, trying to recall where the nearest one was, and encountered the astonished gaze of Walter Thomson.

  'Kate? It is you. What yer doing back in Brum? I thought yer was working in a posh dress shop.'

  'I was, but I was dismissed, and my purse has been stolen,' Kate said, smiling at seeing a familiar face. 'I – I'm walking to Maggie's in Coventry.'

  He sat down beside her and took her hand clumsily in his. The simple gesture made her want to cry, but she blinked back the tears. 'Kate, yer can't do that! It's almost dark!'

  'What else can I do?'

  He was thinking hard. 'Come home with me ternight, and I'll lend yer the fare. Yer can go termorrow.'

  It was an answer, and Kate swayed with relief. 'I'll pay you back as soon as I can earn something,' she promised, and then bent to put her head on her knees.

  'Here, Kate, what's up?'

  'I just feel faint,' she said, her voice muffled. 'I haven't had anything to eat all day. That must be it.'

  'I'm daft! Wait here, I'll get yer a pie,' Walter said, and without waiting for an answer leapt up and sped across to a nearby pie shop. Within minutes he had returned with two pies, and he handed Kate one. 'Here, eat this up. I'll get us a drink later.'

  Kate was ravenous, but she forced herself to eat slowly. Walter fetched them drinks from the nearby pub, beer for him and lemonade for Kate, and she drank it thirstily.

  'That feels so much better! Thank you, Walter. But I can't impose on your family. Besides, you live at Kingstanding now, don't you? It's almost back where I've just come from.'

  'We'll go on the tram, and it's not far ter walk other end. Come on Kate, yer can sleep on sofa in the parlour. Where else will yer sleep?'

  'I don't know. But I must get to Coventry.'

  'It's too late ter set off there terday. I'll come with yer, if yer likes. It's Sunday termorrow, my day off, and I've allus thought I'd like ter see the Cathedral, and some of the motor factories. Might be better workin' in one of them than on the market. I could carry this case for you.'

  Kate was too weary to protest, and Walter helped her to her feet, his
arm supporting her, and half carried her to the tram. She fell asleep during the journey, her head on Walter's shoulder, and when they reached Kingstanding it was too dark for her to see much, despite the street lighting.

  It was only ten minutes to the house where Walter and his family lived. Kate saw that it was one of the new council houses that had turned the green fields into a vast town, but this was nothing like the crowded lodging houses of the inner city. The roads were wide, there were gardens round the houses, and it all looked clean and spacious.

  Walter explained that he and his two brothers shared one room, his parents another, and his father's mother slept in the third with his two sisters.

  'It's a bit cramped, but we've a parlour as well,' he said proudly. 'I'm none so keen on the travelling every day, but I'd not mind a house like this meself, one day.'

  He led the way through the kitchen door, explaining they never used the front one. An old, wrinkled woman sat in a rocking chair in front of the range, her bare, knobbly feet on the fender. She looked up as they went in.

  'Where's Ma?' Walter asked. 'Kate, this is Gran.'

  'Out at pictures. And the lads are in pub, the gals asleep. Who's this?'

  'Kate Martins. She's bin robbed, when her was on way ter Coventry, where her Ma and sister live. So I said she could sleep on sofa ternight. Kate, tek yer coat off.'

  Kate smiled nervously at the old woman. 'I don't want to put you out,' she said, slipping off her coat and stretching her tensed muscles. 'I was desperate, and Walter's been so kind.'

  Gran suddenly began to cackle. 'Kind, was he?' she said, mimicking Kate's accent. 'I can see that. An' you were kind back, by the looks on yer! Well, our Walter, I never thought yer'd have the guts ter bring yer fancy piece here, and 'er up the spout. Goin' ter do the decent thing, are yer, and wed the trollop?'

  ***

  Chapter 8

  It was late when Maggie reached home, tired and hungry. To her annoyance neither Hattie nor Sam were there, and all the children had eaten were hunks of bread smeared with jam. They were huddled under blankets trying to keep warm.