Can Dreams Come True?

by Oliver, Marina

  'I didn't push you! This bed's too narrow for two people.'

  He'd clambered back in with her, turned his back, and Kate was squashed up against the wall, unable to move all night while he snored loudly. Then he'd turned over and once more fallen onto the floor.

  In the morning his brothers had made loud comments about the games he and Kate had been playing all night. Walter had blushed a fiery red, and glared at Kate. That night and for several more he'd tried to make love to her, without success, and every time he blamed her for being cold and unwelcoming.

  She knew it was true. She hated the whole business, even though she was sorry about Walter's own distress at his failure. But she had been heartily glad when he'd brought home from the market a cheap flock mattress and made up a bed for himself on the floor of their room.

  'I'll sleep there,' she offered.

  'I'm OK. Mebbee it's the kid. It'll be better once that's out the way.'

  Kate doubted it. She'd never welcome Walter in her bed, with his clumsy embraces, his breath which usually stank of onions and beer, but she would have to endure it. He had rescued her, been the only one to help her, and would give her child a father, even if he was not the father she'd have chosen.

  Occasionally she dreamed of escape. Could she, if she saved the small amount of money Walter gave her, and had enough to keep her until the baby was born and she could work again, leave here and go to Maggie? In many ways she was thankful she and Walter had not been forced to marry. She was legally free, whatever other obligations she felt towards him. The only consideration which gave her pause was the thought of her child being known as a bastard.

  *

  Hattie had been gone for a week, eventually being found on the outskirts of Oxford. Though she had been sleeping under hedges or in barns she was suffering no more than a bad cold. She was the least of Maggie's concerns, and in some way Maggie felt sorry she had ever returned. She was an extra problem, not a help.

  Sam, she discovered, had left his job at the factory a month before Christmas, and had been working for some men who made a living by stealing small but valuable components from lorries or railway waggons delivering to the car and aircraft factories. He had been taught to drive, and spent his days transporting these stolen goods elsewhere in the country. They went to small factories whose owners asked few questions and were content to believe he worked for a legitimate firm specialising in finding, at prices slightly cheaper than other manufacturers, whatever they needed.

  Maggie found it totally humiliating to sit in court. Sam, protesting his innocence and belief that it was not his business to know where the goods came from, was convicted and sent to prison for twelve months.

  She knew now that she was on her own. Without Sam's money she could not afford the house, and she moved yet again to two rooms in a rundown quarter of the city. It was the best she could find in order to allow Jeannie, who pined for her father, to stay at the school where she was happy. They all slept in the same room, Hattie vociferous in her complaints, and Maggie found a neighbour willing to look after the two youngest while she worked.

  Hattie disappeared regularly, but Maggie no longer cared. If her mother were found and brought back, Maggie said nothing, no longer asked where she had been or why she had gone. If she went missing for days Maggie pushed away her wicked hopes than this time, perhaps, she would not come back and she'd be free of one burden.

  Her main concern was what had become of Kate. She could no longer afford the fares to travel to Birmingham and search for her, as she'd planned to do before Sam was arrested. She wondered if Mrs Carstairs might help, but dreaded her former employer discovering to what straits she had fallen, and she honestly didn't believe Mrs Carstairs could help. Kate might have contacted her friend Daphne, but Maggie doubted it. Kate had her pride. She would not want her schoolfriend to know what had happened to her.

  Then Hattie was brought home yet again, but this time with both arms broken so that she could do nothing to help herself. No one knew how it had happened. Hattie had been taken to hospital and her arms encased in plaster, but they refused to keep her. Could life get worse, Maggie asked herself.

  *

  The one cheerful aspect of Kate's new life was the friendship of Phyllis. They went together to see films at the Odeon or the Mayfair cinemas, and Kate enjoyed the newsreels best of all. She missed her wireless. She had been ordered to prepare food for the street party to celebrate the Coronation, and was so tired she hadn't been able to enjoy that, but to sit resting in the cinema and watch films of the procession, and see the King and Queen and the two pretty princesses, was wonderful.

  'And to think we might soon be able to see all this at home, when they get this new television broadcasting all over the country,' Phyllis said as they walked home one evening.

  'It'll be better even than the wireless, but it will be far too expensive for us to afford.'

  'Not if we get rich! I don't like all that business in Spain and Germany, though,' Phyllis said. 'People are saying we'll be at war soon.'

  'I hope not. People will have more sense, surely.'

  'When have you ever known men, especially politicians, show sense?'

  Kate laughed. 'You think it would be better if all the Members of Parliament were women?'

  'Better than now,' Phyllis said. 'But what can we do about it, even if we do have the vote equally with men? Women will always have to stay at home and look after the children. Though I can't say I'm not looking forward to that. Only two weeks now, and I'll be married.'

  'I shall miss you. Do you have somewhere to live?'

  'We've rooms in a house near Walsall market. Frank's glove factory is only a few streets away. I'll be helping him there. I'm a machinist, and Frank's boss has promised me a job there. I'm not sure it's all a good thing to be working together, especially as Frank's a foreman, but it won't be for long. We want children, and soon Frank will be able to afford to rent a house.'

  Kate envied her. 'I wish I had even one decent room of my own.'

  'Don't fret, Walter will want to move and get his own place when the baby's here. Your place is too crowded as it is, the Council will give you something. And he should be able to afford it. He's got a good job.'

  It would help, Kate thought, but somehow she didn't believe Walter would have the guts to stand up to the rest of his family. He hadn't insisted on marrying her. When his only spontaneous action in taking her home was done, he'd seemed to forget her apart from grumbling at what he insisted was her fault, the fact he couldn't make love to her.

  On the day of Phyllis's wedding Kate managed to go shopping at the same time she knew Phyllis would be leaving her house to go to church. She stood behind a tree and watched as Phyllis's father, a big burly man who drove a tram, led her out to the waiting car which one of his friends had lent them for the day. Kate sighed. She'd never wear such a beautiful dress, be marrying a man she had chosen and whom she loved.

  'You must come and see us in Walsall,' Phyllis had said, but she hadn't given Kate her address, and Kate sadly suspected it had not been a genuine invitation. It was the sort of thing people said. The friendship had meant a lot to her, but no doubt to Phyllis it was just an interlude. She'd been a convenient friend for visits to the cinema. She'd not been invited to the wedding, and no doubt would never see Phyllis again.

  *

  When Kate got home, having been even longer than she had planned, for her back had been aching intolerably, she found Gran lying on the kitchen floor.

  'Where the 'ell have yer bin?' she demanded. 'I'm stuck, come and lift me up.'

  Kate put the shopping down. 'Did you fall? Do you think you ought to be moved? Perhaps you've broken something. Shall I fetch a doctor?'

  'Stop asking daft questions, and lift me up! I've laid here long enough while you've bin gallivantin'. Got a man friend, have yer? What else are yer good fer?'

  Kate, shrinking away from touching the old woman, who reeked of cheap gin and stale sweat, wen
t behind her and raised her into a sitting position.

  'Does it hurt anywhere?'

  'Hurts every damn place, yer fool, what do yer expect? Can't yer lift me more than that? You'm a puny good-fer-naught, and it's a pity our Walter ever set eyes on yer. Get me onter that chair. I'm sick of this floor.'

  Kate struggled, but Gran did nothing to help. She flopped helplessly, and Kate had to give up.

  'I'll fetch someone to help,' she said, and ignoring Gran's shrieks of outrage ran next door. A big, friendly woman lived there, and if she were at home she'd help.

  It took Kate and Mrs Codsall ten minutes to manoeuvre Gran onto her chair, and when she was settled she demanded a cup of tea. Rubbing her back Kate went over to fill the kettle, then doubled up with pain, letting the water splash over everywhere.

  Gran began to shout, but Mrs Codsall flapped her hand in her face to silence her. 'Shut up, woman. Kate, what is it? My God, you'm bleedin' like a stuck pig!'

  Kate was in agony, barely able to hear the words. She felt the rush of warm blood between her legs, and was thankful to lie back on the cold floor, while Mrs Codsall took charge. She busied herself, ignoring Gran's protests and demands for her cup of tea, packing wet towels and rags between Kate's legs.

  For an hour Kate endured pain she had never imagined. It was far worse than when Alf had thrashed her, and throughout she could hear a litany of complaints from Gran, louder than the words of comfort Mrs Codsall uttered.

  'I'll have ter fetch the doctor,' Mrs Codsall had said after the first flurry of her ministrations was over. 'I can't stop the bleeding. I'll send Mrs O'Brien, I'll only be away a few secs.'

  She was soon back, but by the time the doctor came it was all over. Kate had given birth to a tiny, wrinkled girl who never breathed. All the doctor could do was tidy her up, give her medicine to help her sleep, and carry her up to bed.

  *

  'How is Mr Manning?' Daphne lifted more of her clothes from the trunk and hung them up in the wardrobe.

  Her mother sat on a chair by the window, which was open and let in the fragrance of the honeysuckle growing up the wall beside it. 'Much better. What a pity you missed Robert when he finally went back to Paris.'

  Daphne nodded. She'd spent all summer waiting for him to return, and then, the moment she arrived back in England it was to find he had left the previous day.

  'How long does he mean to stay this time?'

  'At least two months, I believe. Until September, from what his mother said.'

  'Is Mr Manning back at work?'

  'Oh yes, has been for some weeks, but he had quite a bad turn. Mrs Manning was desperately worried.'

  'Well, how about everyone else? Has the school recovered? Have you heard from Kate Martins? I sent her letters, but she hasn't replied for months,' she said, busying herself folding underclothes and putting them into drawers. She didn't want her mother to see her face.

  Mrs Carstairs was silent for a few moments, and Daphne glanced sideways at her, then turned swiftly back to her task when her mother began to speak.

  'The school numbers are almost up to where they were. The new Head Mistress is a sensible woman. As for Kate Martins,' she paused again. 'She did not turn out as I had hoped, after all I did to help that family.'

  'What do you mean?' Daphne stood up and faced her mother.

  'I saw Mrs Wilson a few weeks ago. You remember I persuaded her to give Kate a job in her shop?' Daphne nodded. 'Well, she seemed very capable, Mrs Wilson told me, very quick to learn. Then, well, it's very unsavoury, but she was having a baby.'

  'Kate? Pregnant?' Daphne felt her heart beating rapidly. Had Kate somehow kept in touch with Robert and – she refused to let the thought be completed. 'I – I can't believe it!'

  'Nor would I have done, but it's true. There's more. The wretched girl tried to blame John Wilson, their son.'

  Daphne felt a flood of relief. It was nothing to do with Robert. Then she experienced a sense of elation. After this, Robert would never be interested in Kate again. Her most feared rival had ruined her prospects. 'When was this?'

  'They found out and dismissed her in February. She said it had happened in November, when John was on leave from his job, but how could Mrs Wilson know that was true? Of course, to be fair, it was partly that Mrs Wilson gave Kate a room in a flat over the shop, so she was on her own and able to do what she liked, with no supervision. I don't think I'd have approved of allowing a young girl such freedom, but it's too late to think of that now. I understood Kate would live in their house.'

  'You couldn't know. You did your best. But where is she now?'

  'I imagine she went to live with her sister. Maggie went to Coventry, her husband had a job there, and from what your father says the town is booming, with all the new industries making cars and aeroplanes. I imagine Maggie, and Kate too, probably, have jobs in these factories. Many of them employ women.'

  Daphne nodded. She was, she told herself, sorry for Kate, of course, for she had once been her friend. At the same time she was excited. Kate had ruined herself, and no decent man, certainly not one like Robert, would ever look at her again.

  'I must go and see Mr Manning,' she said. 'But if he's back at work, I'd better leave it until Sunday.'

  'They have invited all of us to dine next Saturday. Norman will be here, with his fiancée. What a pity Robert had to go back so soon. Now, tell me, are you still determined to go to medical school? Because if you are, we need to make plans. Everything ought to be settled before we go to Scotland in two weeks to visit Stella.'

  Daphne nodded. Yes, she held to her intention of studying medicine. Until Robert came home and she was able to judge what her chances were with him, especially now Kate was unavailable, she had to pretend she had other plans for her life. At least while she was in Scotland Robert would be safely in Paris, so she could enjoy looking at Stella's extensive acres of moorland without worrying that she was missing him. And then, when they were both back in Birmingham, she would do her utmost to turn what had been a good friendship, which she had on a few occasions thought was something deeper, into what she wanted. Kate was no longer a threat. With a lighter heart Daphne turned back to her trunk and finished unpacking her clothes, planning a new winter wardrobe for Robert to admire.

  ***

  Chapter 9

  Within two days Gran was shouting for Kate and demanding to know when she was going to get her backside off the bed and do the shopping.

  'When I had my kids, and they was proper whoppers, not half-grown freaks, I was up the next day, washin' and cleanin' as usual.'

  To Kate's surprise Walter's mother protested. She could hear the entire argument from where she lay in bed, weak, sore, desperately weary, and mourning her lost child.

  'You might have, but a miscarriage can be twice as bad as a birth,' she shouted. 'Let the gal alone.'

  Ten minutes later she brought Kate a cup of tea and a sandwich. and sat down on the bed.

  'What yer gonna do?' she asked. 'Don't take no heed of that old besom. Yer needs ter get yer strength back.'

  'What happened to my baby?' Kate asked, wincing as she tried to sit up.

  'The doctor took it. Don't fret, it'll probably be buried with the orphans from the Princess Alice. I meant when you'm better.'

  Kate shook her head. 'I haven't thought.'

  'Yer don't want ter marry our Walter, do yer? It weren't his kid, never mind what he said.'

  Kate licked her lips. 'He was kind. He helped me when I didn't know what else to do. My purse had been stolen, I hadn't a penny in the world.'

  Mrs Thomson nodded. 'Yer once said you were off ter find yer sister, in Coventry.'

  Kate nodded.

  'Then why don't yer do it now? When yer feels up to journey?'

  'You don't want me, do you?'

  'Your sort's no good fer Walter. I'm tellin' yer straight, lass. He's a fool and always will be.'

  'He's kind!'

  'Too kind fer his own good.'


  Kate suddenly wondered what she was doing, arguing in Walter's favour. Wasn't this what she wanted, to escape? She had a few shillings saved, enough to get to Coventry, and sorry though she felt for her dead child, she was in a way relieved too. She only had herself to worry about.

  'Here.'

  Mrs Thomson fished in her apron pocket and gave Kate two screwed up ten-shilling notes. 'Stay in bed, pretend you'm worse than you are, then soon as yer feels fit enough, get out. Best fer you, and best fer us. Walter will soon get over it.'

  'Thank you! You're good to me.'

  She grinned. 'No, I'm not. I want yer gone, out of Walter's way. To tell the truth, I never thought yer'd stay longer than yer needed to. But I thought yer might leave the kid when yer did scarper. Why d'yer think we was agin yer getting spliced?'

  'I'll go as soon as possible. Perhaps tomorrow.'

  It was three more days before Kate felt strong enough to walk as far as the bus. Mrs Thomson had helped her pack her clothes into the case, then she took it and hid it under her own bed, and carried it out one morning before anyone else was awake.

  'It's hidden under the hedge,' she told Kate when she brought her some breakfast. 'I packed some food too, enough fer terday.'

  'Thank you,' Kate said. She felt she'd misjudged this woman, even though she knew she was not wanted by this family.

  By the time she reached Coventry she was feeling exhausted. Her strength had not returned as much as she'd thought. And she was fretting about Maggie's reception. Would she have heard? Why hadn't she written? She asked the way to Maggie's lodgings, and trudged towards them, thankful they were not very far from the bus station. With a sigh of relief she knocked on the door.

  Mrs Lloyd opened it. 'What is it? I've no rooms vacant.'

  'I'm looking for my sister, Maggie Pritchard. She and her family came here a year ago.'

  Mrs Lloyd sniffed. 'And glad I was to get shut of her. Snooty bitch. And all the while she was trying to lord it over me her pesky husband was thieving. I'm sure he stole some of my silver cutlery.'