When Wishes Come True

by Jonker, Joan

  ‘Oh, I’m sure that, under the circumstances, and because we want you to mix in the right circles, your father would give you an allowance to buy suitable clothes. We can’t have our daughter looking less attractive than the other ladies. Aren’t I right, Herbert, when I say you will give Evelyn an allowance for some new clothing?’

  ‘Of course, my dear.’ Herbert Wilkinson was what you would call a sombre man who seldom smiled, and had never been known to laugh aloud. But right now he was positively beaming. He had a good job and was well paid, but he was a greedy man; not content with being well off, he wanted to be wealthy. And now, perhaps, through his daughter and her newfound connections, he could well find himself on the way to riches and social acceptance. ‘When we’ve finished our meal we can discuss what is needed so that Evelyn can mingle with the best in society as an equal.’

  True to his word, if against his better judgement, Herbert handed over four white five-pound notes. That it pained him to do so was obvious from the length of time he held on to them before Evelyn finally whipped them out of his hand. ‘I need at least two dresses, Father, I’d be ashamed to wear the same one week after week. Then there are silk stockings, shoes, a band to wear around my forehead and some jewellery …’

  ‘Your mother has plenty of jewellery you could make use of. It’s only lying in a box on her dressing table, it would be an absolute waste of money to buy more.’

  ‘I’ll see, Father, when I go to the dance on Saturday. I will take more notice of what is in fashion then, but meanwhile I can get advice from Gwen. She is very up-to-date on fashions as she attends many dances and parties.’

  And so Evelyn’s social life began. She had never known such freedom and, dressed to kill, was thoroughly enjoying herself. Wherever she went, Charles Lister-Sinclair went too. They saw each other every day and visited each other’s houses. Herbert Wilkinson and his wife made a great fuss of Charles, but on visiting the Lister-Sinclairs, Evelyn found that while Charles’ father was friendly with her, his mother was distant and didn’t even try to hide the fact that she wasn’t pleased with her son’s choice. When Evelyn mentioned this to Charles, he laughed and said any girl he took home would not be made welcome by his mother who doted on him. Her only child, she wanted to keep Charles under her wing until he was older, and only then would she find a suitable wife for him. Evelyn continued to be pleasant to Mrs Lister-Sinclair. It didn’t bother her that her friendliness wasn’t reciprocated because she knew Charles was besotted with her, as she was with him.

  A rattling against a pane of glass in the window brought Evelyn down to earth. It took her a few seconds to get her thoughts together, then she jumped from her chair. This was her daughter home from school and she hadn’t even thought about what they were going to have for a meal. It wouldn’t be much because there was nothing in the house.

  ‘I’ve been knocking for ages, Mother.’ The seven-year-old girl hadn’t inherited many of her mother’s features, but she had learned to copy her expressions and mannerisms. ‘I was beginning to think you had gone shopping or were working late.’

  ‘I was tired after a busy day, Amelia, and must have dropped off to sleep. I’ve nothing in for our tea because all I have in my purse is a sixpenny piece, and that has to last until I get my wages on Friday.’

  Amelia knew they were poor, her mother was always telling her so, and it made the young girl too old for her years. She didn’t worry, though, because all the girls in her class at school were poor, and some of the boys in the street had no shoes on their feet. ‘I could go for a pennyworth of chips, Mother, and we could make sandwiches with them. We could do the same tomorrow, that way your sixpence would last until Friday.’

  ‘You need bread to make sandwiches, dear.’ Somewhere at the back of Evelyn’s mind a little voice was telling her she shouldn’t burden her young daughter with their money worries. But another little voice, a trouble-maker, was saying that if Amelia had never been born then Evelyn would still be living a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot by servants. And it was this voice that made her so bitter inside because her life had been reduced to living in this two-up-two-down house, with no money for the fine clothes she was used to. Not even enough to buy food or provide ha’pennies for the gas meter. So she found it hard to feel any sympathy for the little girl who wouldn’t remember the good times, and who, if she was allowed, would be happy to associate with the common-as-muck people in their street.

  ‘You could try the baker’s, they usually sell it off cheap when it gets near to closing time. It’s probably bread from the day before, and stale, but it would be filling and better than nothing. Perhaps you could get a small loaf for a penny, and with a pennyworth of chips we could make sandwiches and keep the hunger at bay.’

  ‘Ooh, that’s a good idea, Mother, I’ll go there first.’

  Evelyn passed the small silver coin over. ‘Keep tight hold of that, in case you lose it. And if any of the women in this street are in the baker’s, don’t let them hear you asking if they have any stale bread. Come out of the shop and wait outside until they’ve gone. I don’t want the whole street to know our business.’

  ‘Yes, Mother.’ Amelia placed the silver coin in the centre of her palm and closed her fingers over it. ‘I’ll keep tight hold of it. And if there’s no one in the shop that I know, I’ll give the woman behind the counter a big smile when I ask if they’ve any stale bread. You never know, Mother, I might get a large loaf for a penny if I’m nice to her.’

  ‘Make sure you speak correctly, and don’t run down the street, it isn’t ladylike.’

  ‘Yes, Mother.’ The girl turned towards the door. She was mixed up inside because the other children at school made fun of her for talking so ‘posh’. She didn’t know about the children in this street because she wasn’t allowed to play with them.

  As soon as the door closed on her daughter, Evelyn held her head between her two hands and she went back to her memories of days gone by.

  Chapter Two

  It was 1914 when war with Germany broke out, and Charles wanted to join the Army right away. He said it was the duty of every able-bodied man to fight in defence of his country. He wouldn’t be persuaded by Evelyn not to be hasty, but much to her relief Mr Lister-Sinclair pulled a few strings and Charles was classed as being involved in important war work. He wasn’t happy about it, thinking he would be thought a coward, but gave in to his father’s wishes and his mother’s tears. So he and Evelyn continued to enjoy dances, theatres and eating out in the best hotels. Charles still had feelings of guilt, though, and every time he saw a man in uniform felt like a coward. He couldn’t live with that. So when the war had been raging for eighteen months, without telling his parents first, he enlisted in the Army. With his education and background, he entered as a Captain and was sent for training in a camp just north of London so was able to get home regularly. Then, after a few months, he came home on a three-day pass to tell his parents and Evelyn that talk in the camp was rife that they were being sent overseas very soon, and he didn’t know when he would see them again.

  Cyril Lister-Sinclair showed no emotion, but there was fear in his heart for his son. Every day there was news of thousands upon thousands of young men being killed. As for Charles’ mother, she wailed uncontrollably, and as there was nothing Charles could tell her that would calm her, he took Evelyn’s hand and they stole away to find somewhere quiet and peaceful where they could have some privacy. This was impossible in either of their homes, so Charles suggested they take his car and drive out to one of the nearby country lanes. There was little petrol in the car because it was very hard to come by, but he felt sure that what he had would take them a few miles.

  Dusk was falling as they sat with their arms entwined, wondering if they would ever see each other again. Charles rained kisses on Evelyn’s face and promised to write to her every day, but that was little comfort to her, and tears trickled slowly down her face. ‘Don’t cry, my dearest darling.’ Charles
pulled her closer. With her body pressed against his, he could feel a stirring inside him. He tried to resist the urge, but need took him beyond the point of no return. Evelyn was taken by surprise at first and tried to pull away, but the thought that in a few days he would be going off to war caused her to cease her resistance. If she spurned him now, he would go away thinking she didn’t love him, and she couldn’t bear that.

  When his passion was spent, Charles was full of remorse. ‘Oh, I am so sorry, my dearest, what have I done to you? I have disgraced myself and am so ashamed I throw myself on your mercy. You will forgive me? Remember, I love you so much I couldn’t help myself. But we’ll get married on my first leave, I promise. In fact, I travelled up today with another officer and he told me he was getting married tomorrow by special dispensation. Apparently if a soldier is being sent overseas, he and his fiancée can be married by special licence …’

  ‘But I can’t get married so quickly,’ Evelyn protested. ‘I haven’t a wedding dress to get married in!’

  ‘My darling sweetheart, you don’t need a wedding dress to be married in a registry office! All you need are two witnesses, and I’m sure that will be no problem.’ Charles was warming to the idea. ‘I’ll drive you home now and ask your father for your hand in marriage. If he gives his consent, I’ll go and tell my parents. My mother will probably have a fit of the vapours and faint, and I don’t think Father will be too pleased. I’m sure both of them would like a big, extravagant, high-society wedding for their only child, but I’ll remind them there is a war on and many people are doing things they wouldn’t normally do. I’ll bring them around, I always do, then I’ll meet you in the city centre tomorrow and buy you the engagement and wedding ring of your choice.’

  Evelyn’s parents were delighted. What a feather in their cap for their daughter to have landed such a good catch! And they didn’t mind at all that the wedding was going to be a registry office affair, for, as Charles said, there was a war on. When their future son-in-law had left to break the news to his own parents, Mr Wilkinson was so full of good will towards his daughter he pulled her chair nearer the grate and, taking the tongs from the companion set, placed three extra pieces of coal on the fire before rubbing his hands with glee.

  However, the news wasn’t so well received at the Lister-Sinclairs’ home. As Charles had predicted, his mother reacted by falling back in her chair and lifting the back of one hand to her forehead. Her other hand was holding a fine, soft linen handkerchief edged with lace, which she waved at her husband while in a tearful voice demanding her bottle of sal volatile fearing she would faint. With a deep sigh, Cyril rang for the maid. He loved his wife, but did wish she had some backbone instead of always behaving like a child. He wasn’t too pleased with the news his son had brought either, having always thought that when his only child married it would be the wedding of the year in their social circle. But the sight of Charles looking so handsome in his Captain’s uniform, and the knowledge that in a few days his beloved son could be facing the enemy, was enough for him to keep his views to himself.

  ‘Father, would you make some enquiries on how to go about obtaining a dispensation and special licence?’ Charles asked. ‘You’re so much better at getting things done quickly than I am. And I’m meeting Evelyn in town tomorrow to buy the rings.’

  Cyril nodded. ‘I’ll make a few phone calls in the morning and get what information I can. But you will only have two full days, and I can’t imagine having the necessary papers completed in that time.’

  ‘Two days and a half, Father. My train doesn’t leave until one o’clock on Thursday.’ Both men turned their heads at the tinkling of the silver bell which Mrs Lister-Sinclair kept on her side table. They watched the maid enter the room, and heard her being told her mistress would like to retire as she was feeling quite light-headed. When his wife had left the room, leaning heavily on the maid’s arm and sobbing as though her heart was breaking, Cyril asked if there was anything else he could do to help his son.

  Charles leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on his knees. Gazing down at the floor, it was a few seconds before he spoke. ‘This is frightfully forward of me, Father, and I would understand if you refused. But I would be so grateful if you would buy a house for Evelyn and me, as a wedding present. While I’m away she could be making it into a home for when the war is over and I’m back with her again. I really would like to know we had a place of our own, it would give me something to look forward to.’

  Cyril was thoughtful for a few seconds, then sighed. This was a far cry from what he’d wanted for his son. ‘I know there are one or two suitable houses empty in Princes Avenue. This confounded war has caused many people to move to the country. If that’s what you want, I will certainly set the wheels in motion. You know I love you dearly and would move heaven and earth to make you happy. Everything I have will be yours eventually, and I’ll be so proud when you take over the reins.’

  ‘Thank you, Father, you are very kind and I admire and love you in return. When the time comes for you to retire – which I trust will not be for a very long while – I will do my best to make you proud of me. But if meanwhile you could settle Evelyn in a house, and look after her welfare, it would take a weight off my shoulders.’

  Again Cyril was thoughtful for a few seconds before saying, ‘I will purchase a house, furnish it, and make sure Evelyn has everything she needs. But I do think it would be best if I had my name put on the deeds. Only as a precaution, in case you came home and found you didn’t like the house. You would have no ties to the property then and could look for another you think you would be happy in, and where you would like to raise your children.’

  Charles lowered his head to hide the flush of guilt. ‘Thank you, Father.’

  So the following day, while Charles and Evelyn strolled down Church Street towards the jeweller’s, their arms linked and their eyes gazing lovingly at each other, Cyril Lister-Sinclair was trying to arrange their wedding. After many phone calls, and taking advantage of his standing in the city, he managed to extract promises that the papers needed would be ready at five-thirty on Wednesday. Then, making a telephone call to the registry office, he was told they were booked solid for the whole week. However, when he mentioned his name and used a little persuasion they agreed to fit his son and fiancée in at half-past-eleven on the Thursday morning. No amount of coaxing would make the registrar’s secretary change her mind about this. There were so many servicemen wanting to be married, she had to be fair to them all. Mr Lister-Sinclair was lucky she’d managed to fit his son in at all.

  Charles didn’t let his disappointment show, for he knew he was lucky being able to marry before going back to camp. But it would give them only an hour and a half in which to get married and then head for the train station where he would catch the one o’clock train. There was no time to invite friends or even let them know, and both sets of parents declined to attend on the grounds that the whole affair was too rushed. Charles’ mother said wild horses wouldn’t drag her there because it was so degrading that a son of hers was being married in a registry office – oh, the shame of it! And when the Wilkinsons heard the Lister-Sinclairs were not attending, they made the same excuse. If Charles’ parents had been going, they would have jumped at the chance of meeting the man who would soon be almost like family to them, and who they were hoping would help them up the ladder to social acceptance and wealth.

  So the young couple were married with Evelyn’s friend Gwen, and Oscar, a friend of Charles, acting as witnesses. They made a handsome bridal pair, with Charles looking handsome in his Captain’s uniform and Evelyn in a fashionable short beige coat, a lighter beige cloche hat, and carrying a posy of flowers. It was a quarter-past twelve when they came out of the registry office, leaving them tight for time. Charles hailed a taxi and they reached the station with just enough time for last embraces, tearful kisses and vows to love each other for ever. Then Evelyn, accompanied by Gwen and Oscar, was waving goodbye to Charles thro
ugh the steam and noise of the train taking him away.

  Charles’ father kept his promise to his son, and two weeks after the wedding Evelyn received a telephone call from her father-in-law asking her to meet him at the house in Princes Avenue which he felt sure she would like. And he was right, because she loved the wide avenue, with its three-storey red brick houses. The one he’d bought was handsome with an imposing entrance hall and a wide, curved staircase. Magnificent furniture graced the rooms on the first two floors of the house. What excited Evelyn the most, was that this was her means of getting away from her grasping parents. Cyril said he would give her a very generous monthly allowance and would also pay for the services of a live-in maid as the house was far too big for her to live in alone. In the days that followed, Evelyn had never been so happy in her life with her newfound freedom and very comfortable life style. The allowance from her father-in-law was three times what she’d earned at the office, and as he paid all the bills, too, she saw no point in working and gave in her notice.

  Gwen was the only visitor to the house, for Evelyn discouraged her parents from visiting. But she didn’t feel lonely, she revelled in the unaccustomed luxury and in being waited on by the maid, Eliza. Charles had been gone eight weeks, and although he had written to her from the camp before his unit was shipped out, she hadn’t heard from him since. She wasn’t particularly worried because Gwen had told her letters were taking months to get through, and because Evelyn was so content with her life of luxury, she gave little thought to anyone but herself and how lucky she was. Until the morning she experienced a feeling of nausea, followed by vomiting. It was only then she thought back and realised she’d missed the last two periods.