The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow

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The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow Page 3

by Maureen Reynolds


  I put my arms around her. ‘It’s not your fault, Lily. It’s just something that happens to some women when they’re expecting. Anyway, I’ve got good news for you.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Joy wants you to go over to her house on Saturday and do some painting with her.’ I told her of the uncle’s gift. ‘I’m going as well and we are staying over till Sunday.’

  Lily was so delighted that even the sight of poor Rosie coming out of the bedroom couldn’t dampen her spirits.

  ‘Rosie, we’re going to the Perth Road on Saturday to paint with Joy, and Ann’s going to have a good gossip with Maddie. We’re staying till Sunday.’

  Rosie tried to look pleased for her but she merely looked ghastly.

  I went over and made her sit down. ‘I’ll not go if you need me here, Rosie,’ I said.

  She shook her head. ‘No, no, Ann, just you go and enjoy yourself – I’ll be fine.’

  ‘You’ll have Dad for company so at least you’ll not be on your own, Rosie.’

  She wiped her eyes and looked over to where Lily was standing. She shook her head and I knew she didn’t want to speak in front of her.

  ‘Lily, will you run down to Connie’s shop for the evening paper please?’

  After she left I asked Rosie, ‘Now what’s all this about? Is it Dad?’

  As if a dam had burst, the words came tumbling out of her mouth. ‘Och, it’s not his fault, Ann. He’s really worried about me. After what happened to your mum, he thinks the same thing is going to happen to me.’

  ‘Well, it’s natural for him to be worried about you, Rosie.’ I didn’t tell her that the entire family was worried about the same thing.

  Her hands were on her lap and she kept twisting them, unsure whether to go on. Then she said, ‘It’s just like this, Ann. I hardly ever see him. He goes for his pint after work on a Saturday. He comes in for his tea and then he goes out for another three hours. Then on Sunday he goes to see Joe for another four hours.’ She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. ‘I think he’s seeing another woman and who can blame him when I’m aye feeling lousy and looking like a washed-out rag?’

  I was so angry with my father that I had a strong impulse to charge down the road and meet him coming from his work. Then I saw Rosie was looking for reassurance. ‘Listen to me, Rosie. I don’t think there is another woman – it’s just your mind playing tricks because of the baby. But, as for him going out, well, that’s just Dad all over. He could never face anything distressing and the thought of you going the same way as Mum is enough to send him daft. Still, you have to be firm with him and not let him off with it. I mean it’s not as if this baby is all your own doing, is it?’

  She nodded weakly. ‘Oh, Ann, I wish I could be firm but at the moment I feel about as firm as a half-set jelly.’

  I laughed at this thought and she joined in. By the time Lily arrived back, we were both laughing and I was grateful to see Lily’s little face beam with joy. Whatever was bothering Rosie was now gone, she thought. If only …

  I made up my mind to stay with Rosie and let Lily go on her own to see Joy but on the Saturday I was surprised when Rosie said she would come as far as the Overgate with us.

  ‘Will you be all right?’ I asked her.

  She looked grim. ‘Let’s just say I’m as well being sick in my mother’s house as here.’

  I left her in the capable hands of Alice and Granny and set off for the Perth Road. The weather had turned slightly cooler but it was still bright and sunny.

  As always, when visiting Maddie’s house, I was struck with how lovely it was. Because of the ‘Dig for Victory’ campaign, the garden seemed to be full of vegetables instead of flowers. The lawn was still in place and it swept down towards the river which sparkled in the sunlight and was capped by white-tipped waves.

  Joy and Maddie came to meet us and Lily was soon whisked away to look at the wonderful painting gift.

  ‘Wait till you see it, Lily,’ said Joy. ‘We can paint hundreds of pictures with it.’

  Lily’s face was a delight as she tagged behind Joy.

  Mrs Pringle appeared and watched them go. ‘Heavens, I hadn’t noticed how little Joy has grown. Lily is such a lovely tall girl while Joy is quite tiny.’

  It was true. Joy, who had always been so much tinier and more fragile-looking than Lily, was still small and doll-like with her very fair hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a lovely floral summer dress and she made poor Lily look positively gargantuan. Still, I was glad now that I had managed to get her a new dress and sandals.

  Daniel was asleep in his cot but Maddie said she would wake him soon. We moved into the lounge and it was as gorgeous as ever. My mind went back to the end of 1931 when I had first seen this room and fallen in love with it. Although it had been decorated since then, the curtains, carpet and lamps were all in matching and toning shades of apricot. It was similar to being in a warm and golden bubble.

  Thankfully, Hattie wasn’t working. It would have broken her heart to have us as guests. She was so snobby it was unbelievable.

  I went with Maddie to her room under the eaves. It at least hadn’t changed since my last visit – except for the blue cot which sat beside the open window.

  Wearing only a terry nappy and lying blissfully asleep was Daniel. Maddie and I sat down beside the open window and talked about past times and how happy we had all been before the war. In fact, that wasn’t quite true in my case. I had too many unhappy memories from under the gaze of Miss Hood, the housekeeper at Whitegate Lodge. She had been really evil towards me. Still, this was compensated by the kindness from my late employer, the lovely Mrs Barrie. I often thought about her. Alas she was now dead, as was Miss Hood. Another person who had been good to me was the cook, Jean Peters. I made a mental note to visit her soon.

  But I didn’t mention these thoughts to Maddie. I didn’t want to spoil this golden day so I sat and looked at the river while Maddie chatted on.

  ‘I see the government is calling up young women, Ann – between the ages of twenty and twenty-one. You’ll be hoping your age group doesn’t get sent to the munitions factories.’

  She made me sound like Methuselah and I had to smile. I was almost twenty-five but it was all very worrying.

  ‘I can’t go and leave Lily on her own. Granny could maybe look after her but she’s not so able these days. As for Rosie …’ I let the question hang in the air.

  Maddie nodded sympathetically. ‘I know what you mean, Ann, but maybe it won’t come to anything. Anyway, there’s maybe some job you can help out with as well as the paper shop.’

  ‘I’ve thought about that and maybe I can do something in the Home Guard in the evenings – fire watching or something like Dad does.’

  ‘Mum and I do a few days with the Red Cross, Ann, raising funds and generally helping out. If a lot of casualties come back from the battlefields, then I may have to go back to nursing.’ She stopped and wiped her hand over her eyes. ‘It’s a terrible world, isn’t it? Babies and children all growing up without their fathers and goodness knows when they’ll ever see them again.’

  I was saved from answering this thorny question by a loud wail from the cot. Young Daniel was back from the world of sleep.

  I was amazed. ‘Does he always make that racket, Maddie?’ I said with a laugh.

  She looked at her son with a rueful smile. ‘Of course you do, don’t you, Daniel?’

  We went downstairs to give him his tea. Joy and Lily were in the garden with the paints and Mr Pringle, who had just arrived back from the office, was admiring their work.

  ‘They’re very good paintings,’ he said, throwing himself down on a chair while making a face at his grandson. Daniel responded by blowing a big, wet kiss in his direction.

  Mrs Pringle was in the kitchen and a wonderful smell of cooking wafted through. I went to see her and asked if I could maybe help her but she told me to relax and enjoy my visit.

  ‘Maddie tells me that R
osie isn’t keeping very well, Ann. At least she’s got you and your Dad to look after her. Still, we think you do too much hard work so try and cut down, will you?’

  I promised but I didn’t believe myself.

  I had brought along some tea, sugar and butter. With everything on the ration, people could no longer afford to feed another two mouths from the meagre allowances. However, Mrs Pringle wouldn’t hear of taking them. ‘Not at all, Ann. It’s a pleasure to have you both here. We were lucky before the war in buying lots of things in bulk which means, except for fresh meat, fish and eggs, we still have some spare stores. Still, if the war goes on for much longer then even these will be used up.’

  We all sat round the table in the dining room. I had warned Lily not to eat too much but as it turned out, Mrs Pringle filled our plates with so much that it would have been a waste of food to leave anything behind. Not that this bothered Joy because, as usual, she merely picked at her food. She was eager to get back out in the garden with the paints.

  ‘Lily and I are going to be painters when we grow up, aren’t we Lily?’

  Lily nodded cheerfully between mouthfuls of a delicious pie.

  ‘When we leave school we’re going to go to an art college and become famous painters, aren’t we, Lily?’

  Mrs Pringle said she should eat up her food in case she ended up starving in some garret. ‘Look at Lily – see what a great eater she is? You should be the same.’

  Lily looked at Joy and they both burst out laughing.

  Later, after Maddie, Lily and I bathed Daniel and put him to bed, we all sat in the lounge with the sun going down over the river. The entire room was bathed in this golden glow and once again I felt this strange affinity with this wonderful house.

  The two girls went outside to try and paint the lovely sunset while we sat with a glass of sherry and listened to the wireless. We sat and listened to the stark news that Germany had invaded Russia in spite of having a peace pact with them.

  ‘So much for siding with the Germans,’ said Mr Pringle. ‘I think Hitler and his cronies would go against their own mothers.’

  We all agreed. Hitler seemed to be invincible and where did that leave us? At war and alone against the Nazis.

  Later, Maddie and I got ready for bed in her room. She said, ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Ann. Do you think you and Lily could stay in the flat at Roseangle? I haven’t been back since the night Daniel was born and Dad says it needs someone in it during the winter months. To keep it aired and warm.’

  I was overcome. ‘Oh, Maddie, that would solve our problems when the baby comes. I feel we should let Rosie and Dad and the baby to have time to themselves so, yes, we’ll look after it.’

  I tried to make her accept rent for it but she said no – we were doing her the favour.

  ‘Of course we can’t go till Rosie has her baby. That will be in December, Maddie. Is that all right?’

  ‘Yes, that’s fine. It’ll be a relief during the worst of the winter months to know someone is looking after it.’

  We lay in bed for ages, giggling over past events but keeping pretty quiet in case Daniel wakened up.

  ‘He usually sleeps quite well but sometimes he can bawl the house down. Dad says he must have the Pringle lungs because Danny and Hattie and you all have soft voices.’

  But Daniel slept all night – even when the siren went off around four o’clock and when the all-clear sounded an hour later.

  Maddie said, ‘That will be some other poor people bombed out of their houses. Why is it such a relief when it isn’t our houses?’

  ‘That’s just human nature, Maddie. Somebody gets hit but thank the Lord it isn’t us.’

  On the Sunday, the weather was just as glorious so we had a lazy day out in the garden and watched the girls’ frenzied attempts to capture a colourful butterfly on paper. Then the lovely weekend was over.

  As we made our way back to the Hilltown, I was heading home with a heavy heart. I couldn’t speak for Lily but I was dreading it. I wished Dad would face his responsibilities and not bury his head in the sand. Rosie needed all the help she could get and was he helping? No, he was not.

  I knew Rosie worried about little things but she would have to be tough with him. I made up my mind, as we walked through the still-warm streets that Sunday evening, to have a good talk with my father.

  Lily was carrying her paintings home and I had promised to get some of them framed as they were very good. She must have picked up some of my tension because she blurted out, ‘I loved being at Joy’s house. I hope Rosie isn’t sick when we get back.’

  ‘She can’t help it, Lily, so we’ll just have to put up with it for a wee while longer.’

  I hadn’t wanted to mention the flat at Roseangle but I thought it might cheer her up. ‘Can you keep a secret, Lily?’

  She turned her dark, serious eyes to me. ‘Cross my heart.’

  ‘When Rosie has her baby in December, you and I are going to live in Maddie and Danny’s house – just for the winter but isn’t that wonderful?’

  Lily was over the moon but I warned her not to say anything. ‘I don’t want Rosie to think we’re abandoning her and Dad.’

  Full of high spirits at the thought of the future, we reached the house.

  Rosie was sitting with Dad and it looked as if they had had a row. My heart sank.

  Lily ran over to them with her paintings and, although they both tried to look cheerful and interested, I knew there was something wrong. After Lily went to bed, it all came out. Dad’s unit of the Home Guard were going on a training course.

  Rosie’s voice was strained. ‘And it’s in the Orkney Islands, Ann – the other end of the country.’

  ‘Can you not get compassionate leave, Dad?’ I asked. ‘Rosie needs you here with her.’

  ‘No, I can’t. There’s a war going on and we have to be fighting fit when Hitler decides to invade so I have to go.’

  Rosie looked dejected while I was appalled by the look of relief on his face. We might be at war with Germany but my father was grateful for the chance to escape from his pregnant wife. I was sure of that.

  3

  Dad left for Orkney in the middle of July. It was a damp misty day full of grey skies and grey emotions. His train was in the late afternoon and just before leaving with him, Rosie took another violent spate of sickness which left her weak and almost gasping for breath. When Lily and I arrived at the house from Granny’s, Dad looked stunned. He was holding her in his arms and his small suitcase was sitting at the door.

  Rosie had her coat on and I hurried over to take it off. It was the coat she had bought for her wedding and I knew she wouldn’t want to stain it.

  Dad stood up as I approached and he looked almost as ill as his wife. ‘I’m not going, Rosie. What kind of husband am I to even be thinking of leaving you?’ he said.

  Rosie looked relieved and, to be honest, I’m sure I did too. Then, to my utter amazement, she said, ‘You’ve got to go, Johnny. As you said, it’s wartime and thousands of women are struggling to survive while their men are away.’

  I didn’t look at Dad – I was too frightened of seeing even the smallest trace of relief on his face. If I had, then I think I would have lashed out at him. But, if Rosie wanted her husband to go away to his training camp while she bravely carried on, that was her decision.

  Dad said, ‘Is that what you want me to do, Rosie?’

  She nodded weakly then added, ‘Mind you, I don’t think I’ll make it to the station with you but Ann can go with you and maybe Lily will stay here with me.’

  Lily didn’t seem too pleased by this but she was too well mannered to contradict Rosie, especially when she was so ill. So Dad and I set off for the station. I couldn’t imagine his feelings but my head was spinning with a hundred questions and I could feel the unspoken words between us.

  The station was full of soldiers and their kitbags and they swarmed all over the platform. An air of tension hung over the place, like
a thunderstorm waiting to break. I could feel the air crackling with emotional goodbyes.

  I could see no passenger arrivals at the station, only departures. These men and a smattering of women were all going away. Some, like Dad, to a training camp for a month but most of the younger men were going away to goodness knows where or for how long. As for the young women, were they being sent to the farms or the factories? My heart sank when I saw them. Would I be the next one standing on this platform? Would I be saying my goodbyes to Lily and Rosie and my grandparents?

  Then Joe appeared. He had come to see Dad off but was surprised by the non-appearance of Rosie. His face was full of sympathy for he also remembered Mum but thankfully he said nothing. He handed Dad one of his homemade cigarettes and both men lit them up, the blue smoke spiralling in a foggy haze towards the cavern-like roof.

  Joe said, ‘We never thought we would see this all over again, did we, Johnny? Another bloody war with Germany.’ He drew deeply on his cigarette and scowled at no one in particular. ‘We were a lot younger than some of these laddies when we went to fight in the Great War.’

  Dad agreed. ‘You’re right, Joe, and now another generation of youngsters have to sacrifice their lives. What an awful world they’ve inherited and I’m glad to say I’m grateful I’ve got two lassies instead of laddies.’

  I was almost in tears. I know Dad and Joe and thousands like them had survived the chaos and carnage of the last war but millions hadn’t and it was all happening again.

  Joe said, ‘Aye, we thought the invasion would come last year but, now that Hitler has decided to break his pact with Russia, then maybe we’re a bit safer.’

  Dad shook his head. ‘The invasion can still happen, Joe. Hitler thinks he can reach Moscow pretty quickly and then it’ll be our turn. That’s why these training programmes are going ahead.’ He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Are you still doing your fire-watching, Joe?’

  Joe nodded. ‘I’m lucky that I’ve not been sent on any training courses but the fire-watching keeps me busy. Some nights it gets a bit boring but I expect the fire-watchers in Clydebank, Coventry and London would be glad to be bored. Heavens, they must be run off their feet with all the incendiary bombs.’

 

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