Book Read Free

The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow

Page 5

by Maureen Reynolds


  So it was arranged that I would collect Lily at the church which was the same church that Maddie was married in, St Andrews at the foot of the Wellgate.

  As I walked home, I thought Mrs Pringle would think we were heathens. We didn’t belong to a church so I made a mental note to take Lily to Bonnethill Church which was a mere hundred yards from our house. She could join the Sunday School and, quite honestly, I knew of a lot of people in my life who could use a few prayers. As I walked towards the house, I was glad I had made that mental commitment. I would ask Lily and, if she agreed, we would go next Sunday.

  Rosie was crying when I got in and a letter was hanging from her white fingers.

  My heart sank. ‘Rosie, what is it?’ My voice sounded harsh with worry.

  She looked at me, her face puffy, her eyes red-rimmed with crying. ‘I got this letter today. It’s your dad – he’s had a bad accident and he’s in hospital in Kirkwall.’

  I thought I was going to be sick but Rosie beat me to it. I took the letter from her lifeless fingers. Written by one of Dad’s friends, it was quite short and read:

  Dear Rosie,

  Johnny fell down a cliff on Thursday and has a suspected fractured skull which means he’ll be in hospital for a while. He won’t be coming home with the rest of us but the doctor is keeping an eye on him. Ann will look after you till he gets home.

  Love J

  (Written for Johnny by Bill)

  Rosie was back at my side. ‘What does a while mean, Ann? Is that weeks or months?’

  I gave her a hug. ‘Och, he’ll be back soon so don’t worry, Rosie.’

  She looked relieved and I felt guilty. ‘It’s not like we can go and visit him, Ann – he’s hundreds of miles away.’

  I agreed. ‘You’ll just have to keep in touch by letter, Rosie – at least for the next few weeks.’

  The lovely day I had spent with Maddie and the Pringles was now just a memory. And why was I reassuring Rosie when I hadn’t a clue how long Dad would be lying in hospital? Crystal Ball Annie again – when would I ever learn?

  4

  It was mid August when Rosie woke up one morning and she wasn’t sick. We thought it was a fluke but, when a week went by without the terrible feelings of nausea, she began to look forward to the future.

  ‘I can’t believe it, Ann – I feel super.’

  I had to admit she looked it. Her skin had a youthful bloom and her hair, which had been so limp and lifeless, was now thick and shiny.

  Even Lily noticed the difference. ‘Rosie’s looking beautiful, isn’t she, Ann?’

  Indeed she was. She also regained some of her old energy which manifested itself in a burst of house cleaning which both surprised and delighted me.

  Still, there was one blot on her new horizon – Dad. He was still incarcerated in a hospital in Orkney and, although the skull fracture had been diagnosed as a hairline fracture, he was still recuperating. Rosie was beside herself with worry. As the days passed, she became more fretful and I began to worry about her. I couldn’t believe we had finally got rid of one worry only to be confronted with another one.

  She said, ‘I wish he could get home to recuperate. He’s miles away with no visitors.’

  Maddie came to tea on the Sunday and, while I was setting the table, Rosie was telling her all the worry over her husband. ‘What a pity he couldn’t get transferred back here, Maddie. It would make such a difference to us all.’

  Maddie nodded sympathetically and Rosie seemed to cheer up. ‘Still, I’m not as badly off as you, Maddie. At least Johnny isn’t in a prisoner of war camp in some foreign country. Mind you, as far as I’m concerned, with all the restrictions on travel, he might as well be in a foreign country – after all, Orkney is practically in Norway.’

  That wasn’t true but Maddie hid her smile. She knew Rosie was unhappy about her husband’s health.

  Later on, as Maddie and I walked back along the road, she said, ‘I think I’ll ask the Red Cross if they can help to get your dad home. Maybe if there’s another training group coming up then your dad could get a lift in their transport.’

  I was overcome with gratitude. ‘That would be great, Maddie – especially for Rosie. She’s just got over one hurdle and now she’s faced with another one.’

  Maddie said she would help all she could and she hurried towards the house to see to Daniel. Her mother was looking after him to give her a couple of hours off.

  I didn’t mention Maddie’s suggestion when I got home. After all, it was only a thought and Maddie’s plan might not succeed. There was no sense in upsetting Rosie. I didn’t want her getting her hopes up only to be dashed at the last moment.

  Rosie decided to buy a maternity smock. ‘Just something bright for when Johnny comes back,’ she said.

  I went with her to Hunter’s department store in the Wellgate. It was a lovely hot summer afternoon at the end of August. We were glad to be out of the heat and inside the cool, dim interior of the store. Long wooden counters ran the full length of the walls and everything was hushed. It was like being in a cathedral.

  I spotted Kathleen at the far end of the hosiery counter. She didn’t see us but I decided to try to see her before leaving.

  There wasn’t a huge selection of smocks due to the wartime shortages but Rosie didn’t seem to mind. She had spotted the one she wanted right away. It was a lovely deep-blue cotton one, very plain but it suited her complexion and also made her seem slimmer.

  The assistant put the money in a small tin canister and pulled a wire. The container then shot across the store to the cash desk before returning with Rosie’s change.

  We made our way towards the front door but I still wanted to see Kathleen. I stopped. She was deep in conversation with an elderly man who looked very aristocratic with his well-cut and expensive clothes. He had a small, well-trimmed white beard and he looked like the late George V.

  Rosie stood waiting for me but I didn’t want to interrupt Kathleen’s conversation so we left.

  ‘Who was that man talking to Kathleen?’ asked Rosie. ‘He’s really handsome in an old kind of way, if you know what I mean.’

  I was thinking the same but at the back of my mind I felt I knew him. I just couldn’t think where or how I knew him.

  We stopped at the grocer’s shop to get the weekly rations and were dismayed to see a large queue.

  Rosie gave a huge sigh. ‘I wish we were back in the days before the war when there wasn’t all these queues. And this smock cost me some of my coupons which I’m trying to save up for when the baby comes. He or she will need baby things and I’ll have to start again from scratch. Quite a lot of the families in the street have other children which means they’ve lots of cast-offs but we don’t have anything like that.’

  That was true. Lily was born in 1931, ten years ago, and all her baby clothes had long since vanished, cannibalised to make something else from the wool and material.

  I kept thinking about Kathleen and the man. They had looked very intense in their conversation. The man’s identity still eluded me although the more I thought about it, the more I realised I knew him. It was just before falling asleep that night that I remembered where I had met him – Maddie and Danny’s wedding.

  He had been the photographer and a high-class one at that. He had his studio in a posh-looking, stone building at the foot of the Perth Road. He didn’t have a window full of photographs extolling his wares. No, all he had was a well-polished plaque with his name and occupation. He didn’t quite say he was a photographer to the rich but he was very high-class and, whatever it was that he wanted with Kathleen, she was seemingly considering it – at least I thought so judging from the look of concentration on her face.

  Now that Rosie was blooming with health, Lily and I were eager to get into our new abode – Maddie and Danny’s flat. Lily was forever speaking about it and I had to warn her, ‘You’re not to keep speaking about it, Lily – especially in front of Rosie as we can’t leave her till Dad gets back
.’

  The next morning in the shop, Joe was doing his usual commentary on the German Army’s trek into Russia. His face would beam every morning when he read the headlines. ‘Aye, they’ll have to retreat when the winter comes in,’ he said. ‘The Jerries will find it’s no picnic in Moscow.’

  Personally, I was growing weary of the war and all the queuing for food and the never-ending problem of making meals with fewer and fewer ingredients. In fact, there had almost been another war at the butcher’s shop that afternoon when one customer had discovered her whole meat ration was used up for that week.

  ‘How am I supposed to feed my man and three hungry bairns if I’ve no meat coupons left?’ she hollered in front of a dozen women who all agreed with her.

  The butcher looked embarrassed but said there was nothing he could do. ‘You’ll just have to make a big vegetable pie with loads of tatties,’ he said. His unhelpful suggestion was met with a dozen scornful remarks.

  ‘A vegetable pie with no carrots or onions – just neeps and tatties? What kind of a meal is that for a growing family?’

  A wee woman at the back came up with a suggestion. ‘I always flavour my chunks of turnip with Bisto and it looks like chunks of steak.’

  The butcher looked relieved. ‘There you go, then. What a great tip.’

  The customer gave him a withering look and he retreated to the back shop before coming back a moment later with three slices of corned beef.

  ‘There you are, missus. I’ll let you have this from next week’s coupons and don’t say I’m not good to you.’

  Of course everyone in the queue wanted some corned beef as well and, when I left the shop, the butcher looked shell-shocked.

  I knew life was difficult for everyone – shopkeepers and customers alike. I was used to hearing snippets of conversation from the women who came into the shop.

  ‘It’s all right for some folk who get more than their fair share. It’s not coupons that counts but who you know.’

  Well, we all knew that was true. A thriving black market existed but, like all illegal things, I often wondered if it suffered from myths and exaggeration. After all, we were always hearing about someone who got an extra bag of sugar or butter or sweeties but it was never anyone we knew. It was always this mythical person – the person who knew all the sources and had the money to buy these illegal items.

  Then, at the end of the month, Maddie arrived at the house with great news. ‘Mum was asking at the Red Cross about your dad and the wonderful news is that a training group is going to Orkney next week. If your dad is allowed out of hospital, they’ll bring him back.’

  Rosie was visiting her mother but, when she heard the news, she was overcome with excitement. So much so that I had to make her lie down to recover.

  Maddie warned her, ‘Of course, it’s not fully settled yet, Rosie, but Mum thinks the group will go. Then you have to consider that the hospital may not let Mr Neill out. It all depends on how well his injury has healed.’

  I was immediately brought back to earth. There were so many ifs and buts but Rosie refused to be deflated. In her mind, Dad was already home.

  As it turned out, the training group was held up for another week but they eventually set off. Dad then told Rosie the hospital was reluctant to let him go but they would if the transport was suitable.

  I confided in Connie. ‘I just hope Rosie’s not disappointed. Army convoys are usually bone-rattling trucks and the hospital won’t let Dad out in one of those.’

  Connie said I should look on the bright side. ‘Och, well, even if he doesn’t get home straight away, at least Rosie is keeping fine now and her time is going in.’

  It certainly was and I couldn’t believe how fast the year was flying by.

  Dad arrived home on a misty Sunday in September. Much to his disgust, he was carried upstairs on a stretcher. As soon as the two stretcher-bearers left, he got up and walked through to the kitchen.

  He looked at his wife in disbelief. ‘Rosie,’ he said, ‘you’re looking beautiful.’

  Rosie blushed like some love-struck sixteen-year-old. ‘Och, away you go, Johnny!’

  ‘No, I mean it – you look radiant.’

  We had planned a welcome-home meal for Dad. I’d made a huge pot of soup and we had saved up our meat ration that week so that Dad could have a whole pork chop to himself.

  Later, he told us about his accident. ‘We were climbing up this cliff when the rope broke and I fell on to a ledge – which was lucky for me because I would have fallen another hundred feet or so and probably been killed.’

  Rosie went white. ‘Don’t speak like that, Johnny – don’t tempt fate.’

  He laughed. ‘Well, I’m back home now and that’s all that matters. I expect I’ll be off work for some time but Mr Pringle has asked me back to the fruit warehouse a couple of days a week and he says it’s nothing strenuous.’

  Rosie was unsure of this arrangement. ‘Should you not be resting, Johnny?’

  ‘Och, I’ve been resting since July, Rosie. I want to get back to work but I’ll have to leave the Caledon Shipyard. Still, John Pringle’s offer is great because I can do some paperwork for him and also give him a hand.’

  Although Rosie was still unsure of this arrangement, she readily agreed. Anything to keep him happy and she also knew he would get restless being in the house all day.

  John Pringle, who was Maddie’s uncle, was well known for being a good employer and Dad was glad to be going back there. Because of the war, fruit coming from all parts of the world had virtually stopped and John Pringle had had to let some of his staff go. He had promised to reinstate them when the war was over. Because of this, Dad had got a labouring job at the Caledon Shipyard. As for the Home Guard … well, it looked doubtful if he would ever be able to return there.

  The following week, Lily and I moved to the flat at Roseangle. Maddie was quite happy for us to move in earlier than planned. It was a cold autumn evening when we moved in but we soon had a lovely fire in the grate and had put the kettle on for our tea.

  Lily lay back on the hearthrug. ‘I love this house, Ann. When I grow up, I’m going to buy a house like this for you and me.’

  I laughed. ‘What happens if you get married?’

  She made a face. ‘I’m never going to get married. I’ll just stay with you forever and ever.’

  I smiled and wondered what Greg would say to that arrangement. As soon as the war was over, I hoped we would get married – it was just a question of waiting.

  We had our tea by the light of the fire, sitting by the window and gazing at the ever-darkening sky and the river which was tinged a grey gunmetal colour in the gathering dusk. Once again, I was struck by the peacefulness. Miles away people were being killed or captured and we were gazing at a river with its changing moods.

  ‘There’s one thing,’ I told Lily, ‘we’re not using Maddie and Danny’s room. I think we’ll keep that door shut as it’s their private room.’

  Lily was puzzled. ‘Where are we going to sleep, Ann?’

  I pointed to the sofa. ‘This is a bed settee. We can sleep on it.’

  This pleased Lily. ‘Can I pull it out?’

  ‘Aye, you can and you can also put it away in the morning.’

  Another thing I was going to do was put all the wedding presents away. Things like their crystal glasses and vases and their wedding china. I was so afraid these things would get broken, no matter how careful we were.

  So I saved up all the newspapers that week and Lily and I carefully wrapped all the lovely ornaments and other wedding gifts. We placed them in a large trunk that we’d found in the lobby cupboard.

  Another bonus was Hamish the stag. Lily had grown quite fond of him and she regularly hung her coat and schoolbag on his ample antlers.

  I was beginning to worry about Greg who normally wrote faithfully every week but I hadn’t received my usual letter. I was beginning to think that he was ill or, even worse, that he was no longer interested in
me. Still, life had to go on and I put it firmly from my mind. I was still writing to him and I gave him the new address plus all the news on the home front.

  One day, we had a visit from Minnie and Peter. She was suitably impressed by the house – especially the view from the window. ‘Oh, I could gaze at that scene forever,’ she said.

  Meanwhile Peter was more interested in Lily’s crayons and comics.

  Minnie and I sat looking at the view and sipping tea. It was very soothing.

  I asked her if she had any news of her husband but she shook her head. ‘What’s worrying me is that, if he does get some leave, he’ll not be able to find the house in Clydebank.’

  ‘Speaking of houses, Minnie, did you get that house next door to Bella?’

  ‘No I didn’t. Seemingly it was already taken when Bella mentioned it although she didn’t know that. But I have a chance of another house in the Hawkhill next month. The old woman has had to go into hospital and the rumour is she won’t be coming back to live in her house. Mum’s had a word with the factor and he says if it becomes vacant, I can have it.’ She sighed. ‘It’s not before time I can tell you, Ann. My mother is driving us up the wall with her constant nagging at wee Peter. He can’t pick up a pencil but she’s wiping the floor with a wet cloth. I spilt a cup of tea the other night and to hear her moan you would think I’d committed a murder. Mind you,’ she said darkly, ‘I might just murder her.’

  Lily looked at her with alarm but, when we laughed, she looked relieved.

  Meanwhile, back in the shop, Joe was still harping on about the Russian front and I think that Connie was becoming tired by all the talk of war.

  ‘Have you nothing cheerful to tell us, Joe?’ she asked. ‘It’ll soon be Hogmanay and we can say cheerio to another dismal year.’

  Joe looked sceptical. ‘Hogmanay? That’s another five weeks away.’

  Connie was unrepentant. ‘Well, I’m looking forward to it.’

  Then Greg’s letter arrived and its contents filled me with delight.

  I told Lily, ‘Listen to this. Greg’s managed to get a forty-eight-hour pass for the sixth and seventh of December. He’ll get the train and I’ve to meet him at the station on Saturday evening. We’ll not have very long together but it’s better than nothing. Isn’t that wonderful?’

 

‹ Prev