The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow

by Maureen Reynolds

  Lily was almost crying when we stepped on to the pavement.

  ‘It’s all right, Lily – I’m not hurt,’ I told her.

  Reassured, she set off towards the flat with me following her. I was shaking a bit with the fright and my legs felt numb with the shock of the incident.

  Ma had been right about her warning. I should have watched my step. Surely this was what she meant, wasn’t it?

  7

  Grandad was ill and Granny was worried sick about him. It was also clear to the rest of the family that his bronchitis, which was a yearly winter affliction for him, was getting worse. But he wouldn’t listen to anyone when we told him to stop smoking his pipe with its dark, foul-smelling slivers of Bogey Roll tobacco stuffed into its bowl.

  ‘I’ve been smoking since I was sixteen and it’s never done me any harm,’ was the usual statement when Granny or I chastised him.

  Granny sighed. ‘He’ll not listen to anybody, Ann, and I’m really worried about his breathlessness – he could hardly climb the stairs the other night.’

  This was true and, to make matters worse, the weather was now cold and foggy which made me cough, never mind Grandad with his bad chest.

  It would soon be New Year and the war was still as savage as ever but there had been good news with the glorious victory at El Alamein. Then there was the Battle of Midway where the Americans had pushed the Japanese into retreat plus the Russian Army had broken through the German line at Stalingrad.

  Joe was full of this news. ‘What a great victory over the Afrika Korps, isn’t it Connie? Monty fair sent Rommel scuttling back to Berlin. And the Americans are finally getting the upper hand with the Japs and the Russians will soon send the German Army packing. Aye, it’ll soon be victory, Connie.’

  Connie, who was usually tired of listening to Joe’s ramblings on the war front, was enthusiastic at the latest news from Stalingrad. ‘Aye, it certainly is good news, Joe. Maybe the war will be over soon.’

  I mentally echoed this sentiment. Then Greg, Danny and Peter could all be home once more with their families.

  Joe was still chatting. ‘Another bit of good news is the British Army have pushed the Japs from the Malay peninsula and shoved them back to Burma. Aye, they’ll find it’s not so easy to beat us – even with their Emperor Hirohito.’

  Meanwhile I was becoming more worried by the day about Grandad and I hoped he would see sense and give up the smoking. I had made up my mind to enlist Hattie’s help on this.

  That evening, when I went to her house in the Westport, Graham was there and he was dressed in a smart suit.

  ‘Hattie is getting dressed,’ he said, nodding towards the closed bedroom door.

  I was puzzled.

  He explained. ‘We’re going to the Christmas dance in the Queen’s Hotel.’

  Then Hattie appeared and she looked surprised to see me sitting by the fire. She looked beautiful in a long satin dress in a lovely shade of bronze. She wore long brown evening gloves and her shoes matched her handbag. She looked like the Queen. It was easy to see that the clothes rationing wasn’t a big issue in her house. But then I realised I had seen that dress before – a good few years ago.

  Her face went white when she saw me. ‘It’s not Grandad, is it?’

  I mentally kicked myself for arriving on her doorstep unannounced but I said, ‘He’s not any worse, Hattie, but can you make him give up his pipe? He’ll not listen to Granny.’

  Hattie made a little snorting sound. ‘And you think he’ll listen to me, Ann?’

  Before I could answer, she went on. ‘I’ve told him time and time again to give up that pipe. In fact, you’ve heard me yourself and will he listen? No he won’t.’

  I noticed Graham had taken a cigarette from an elegant silver case but he now put it back. Very diplomatic, I thought.

  ‘Look, Hattie, I’ve come at a bad time. You’re on your way to a dance but will you think about having a talk with Grandad. I’ll also have a word with Dad and maybe, between the two of you, Grandad will listen and see sense.’

  Hattie nodded. ‘All right, Ann, I’ll speak to him tomorrow but don’t raise your hopes too high. I’ve been going on about that smelly pipe for years and you know it. As for your father … what do you think he’ll manage to do? He smokes as well and many a word I’ve had with him about this.’

  Graham now slipped the cigarette case back in his pocket with a rueful look at me. Thankfully, Hattie was gathering up her bag and she didn’t notice it.

  Hattie was right when she said Dad would be no help. He never listened to anyone either – just like Grandad.

  When Hattie reached the door, she said, ‘And another thing. Has your father gone back to the doctor for a check-up on his head wound?’

  I shook my head. ‘He says he’s going next week but he says he’s feeling fine.’

  Graham smiled. ‘How are Rosie and little Jay?’

  ‘They’re fine, Graham. Jay is getting bigger every day and, although he’s not walking yet, he’s crawling all over the floor and getting under everyone’s feet.’

  I could see that Hattie was impatient to be off to her dance so I made my escape.

  Lily was sitting with Granny and they both looked subdued. Grandad was lying asleep in the big bed by the fireside and his breath was coming out in sharp gasps.

  I went over to him and looked at him. ‘Tomorrow, I’m getting the doctor to have a look at his chest, Granny,’ I said to her.

  She looked as if she was about to resist but she said, ‘I think that would be for the best, Ann. He’s not getting any better.’

  Lily looked unhappy. ‘Grandad will be all right, won’t he, Ann?’

  I tried to look cheerful. ‘Of course he will, Lily. It’s just a matter of getting him to realise he can’t keep smoking – especially in this cold, murky weather.’

  Lily looked at Granny. ‘He was smoking his pipe before he went to bed and he’ll not listen to Granny.’

  Granny got up and put the kettle on. ‘Never you mind, Lily. He’ll listen to the doctor – that’s for sure.’

  But I saw her face as she turned towards the stove and her look belied her convincing words. I also knew she was worried about the outcome of Dad’s medical. He hadn’t been going to the Home Guard meetings since his accident although he had taken his share of fire-watching on a few nights during the past few months.

  To take our minds off Grandad, I mentioned the Christmas dance and Hattie’s lovely outfit.

  ‘Aye,’ said Granny, ‘she’s had that frock since 1936 but then she’s aye kept her trim figure so she can still wear all the clothes she had before the war – lucky her.’

  Lily was busy getting the cups from the cupboard. ‘Will she get married to Graham?’

  Granny almost choked. ‘Och, I’ve no idea, Lily. Maybe she will. I suppose it all matters on how long this war is going to last. After it’s over, he’ll probably go back to Clydebank and his business there.’

  I looked at Lily. ‘Would you like to see them married?’

  Her face lit up. ‘Oh, I would and I could be a flower girl at their wedding – just like I’m going to be at your wedding, Ann – when Greg comes home, that is.’

  For some reason her statement left me feeling sick. Would there ever be a wedding? I thought. I was certainly not getting any younger and at this rate I would qualify as one of the oldest brides in the city.

  Granny brought us both back to earth. ‘Well, I’d better have a word with Hattie and Graham – just so they don’t get married on the same day as Ann and Greg. We can’t have you missing out on being a bridesmaid twice, can we, Lily?’

  Lily was munching a huge slice of toast and she nodded.

  As I looked at her, I marvelled at her talent for coming out with an important statement, only to totally forget it when faced with food.

  We could still hear Grandad’s noisy wheezing as we left. I said, ‘I’ll call the doctor from Connie’s flat tomorrow, Granny, and I’ll pay his bill.�
�

  I was a bit late in arriving at the shop the following morning. Even although we were staying at Roseangle, Lily was still a pupil at Rosebank School. This time next year she would be in the secondary school but, till then, our routine never varied. She normally arrived at the shop with me and stayed until it was time to go to school. This particular morning, we’d overslept and we were hurrying up the Hilltown. It was another grey, dank and foggy morning and the air felt cold and wet. It was like a thousand wet drops against our faces.

  Connie’s shop was blacked out because of the regulations but it was cosy inside. The gas mantle was a golden glow against the stack of newspapers and the paper girl was just beginning her paper round.

  I explained my mission to her and she said to use the telephone when Lily went to school. I had become quite fond of her doctor and had got to know him well over the year or two since I first called him out.

  Lily turned to me as we set off. ‘Grandad’s going to be all right, isn’t he, Ann? The doctor will give him some medicine to make him feel better.’

  I watched her as she set off down the road, calling out to her friends as they emerged from the dark entrances on to the cold street.

  Connie’s flat was still over-furnished and I smiled at her refusal to throw away her parents’ things. Still, it was hard to let go of the past but some people managed it better than others. I loved the large black telephone. There was a similar one at Roseangle which I never used – apart from the one time when Maddie went into labour with Daniel.

  Despite Connie’s protestations, I always paid for my calls – I would hate to think I was abusing her kindness.

  I slowly dialled the doctor’s number and very carefully gave the address in the Overgate and a brief account of Grandad’s symptoms. I knew Granny would be ready for him and I also knew she would be edgy about keeping Grandad in the house. He could be thrawn when it suited him, complaining that getting the doctor was women’s meddling.

  I also knew she would have stripped the bed and put on clean sheets and pillowcases and that would alarm him. He would know exactly what was being planned and he would try to make his escape.

  I could barely wait for the morning to go in, wondering what the doctor would say about Grandad.

  Connie noticed my agitation. ‘We’re not very busy this afternoon, Ann. If you want to go and see how your grandad is, then just go.’

  I threw her a grateful look and put my coat on. It was very cold outside and although it was still wet, the bitter wind promised snow before nightfall. Granny had a big fire on in the grate when I arrived and Grandad was asleep. She placed a finger against her lips and I tiptoed over to sit beside her.

  We spoke in whispers. Granny looked upset as she described the doctor’s visit. She glanced over, every now and again, towards the bed in the corner, making sure Grandad was still asleep.

  ‘The doctor says his lungs are not working right, Ann. He didn’t say they were knackered but that’s what he meant. When Grandad worked in the coal yard years ago, the coal dust irritated his lungs and that, combined with his heavy smoking over all these years, hasn’t helped him. The doctor wants him to go into hospital for a check-up but he almost went mental and said the hospital is the last place he’d end up in.’

  I didn’t know what to say. All morning, I had harboured the notion that a few days in bed and giving his pipe a rest would see him on the road to recovery but now, judging from Granny’s face, the news was bad.

  I recalled the years he had spent as a coalman and the awful black dust that forever hung in the air in the coal shed in Ann Street. But surely this wasn’t enough to cause an illness years later? I said so.

  Granny just shook her head gently. ‘It’s just a matter of time, Ann. His lungs are damaged and there’s no medicine that can help him now.’

  We listened to his laboured breathing and the tears rolled down my cheeks. Grandad was facing death and I just couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it.

  Granny, as strong as ever, said, ‘The doctor said someone should sit up with him through the night in case he chokes.’

  ‘I’ll do that, Granny – you have enough to do during the day.’

  She nodded. ‘I’ll also ask Hattie to help out.’

  ‘Lily and I will come to live here. We’ll manage in the wee room in the lobby. That way I’ll be here to look after her as well.’

  Granny gave me a sad look. ‘Poor Ann – you’re aye looking after somebody else and never yourself.’

  I had to get time off from he shop but I could still work the afternoons and early evenings.

  Connie was very understanding. ‘Och, just come in when you can, Ann. I’ll do the early morning shift and you can maybe do the later shift and I’ll get a rest then. Will that be fine?’

  Actually at that moment I didn’t know what would be fine or not. It was going to be a question of settling into a routine with me sitting up during the night to let Granny get a sleep.

  I tried to pass all this off lightly when I picked Lily up from the school. Her eyes widened in pain but I explained it was only for a short time until Grandad got better and she believed me – thank goodness. Although I hated telling her a lie, I knew I could never tell her that her beloved Grandad was dying.

  Rosie and Dad were very upset when they heard the news and Rosie immediately offered to help out with the nursing – an offer I knew she couldn’t possibly fulfil.

  ‘You have Jay to look after so you have enough on your plate as it is, Rosie.’

  This was true because Jay, who was almost a year old, was now crawling and he seemed to get into everything and into all the corners. Rosie was forever picking him up. In desperation, she would place him in the playpen but he viewed these wooden bars like some criminal in prison and would pull himself up and shake them violently, crying so hard that Rosie relented and let him crawl around the room in freedom.

  The first week wasn’t too bad. Grandad seemed to rally and he got out of bed and sat on the chair by the fire, filling his pipe with tobacco and sucking on the stem like a man dying of thirst instead of a man dying by degrees.

  To begin with, I tried to persuade him not to smoke but Granny said that, at this late stage, smoking couldn’t do him any more harm. The damage had started years before and had slowly grown worse with time. So I sat and read while he smoked.

  One night he laughed out loud. I looked at him, puzzled. ‘What are you laughing at, Grandad?’

  ‘I’m just thinking what a big lassie Lily is now.’ He chuckled. ‘I’m thinking about the time I brought yon muckle pram home from Jumpin’ Jeemy’s Emporium and the look of horror on Hattie’s face when she saw it.’

  I smiled at him. ‘I remember how you threw the door open like some conquering hero, Grandad, and how Granny scrubbed it till it was shining.’

  Grandad laughed again. ‘Och, aye, I mind that. When I’m feeling better, I’ll have to take young Jay along the Esplanade. He’ll enjoy that.’

  I had to look away, my eyes full of unshed tears.

  It was time to get him back to his bed. I noticed how thin he had become and his striped pyjamas now hung from his body. His neck was so thin that I was sure I could encircle it with my two hands.

  Luckily, Granny was sleeping in the spare bed in Alice’s house. It was just to let him get a good night’s sleep, she told him – which sadly, as the days went on, became increasingly rare.

  Hattie arrived one night with Graham but, when she saw him coughing, his body racked with the effort of it, she ran from the house, crying. Graham gave me a pitying look as he went out after her. She never came back again at night although she did visit during the day.

  Much to Grandad’s delight, Dad would pop in every evening with Rosie and Jay. Lily would read the newspaper out loud for him as he didn’t have the energy to hold it and she would add her own comments which could be hilarious. This made Grandad laugh and Lily was so pleased because she thought this meant he was getting bette
r.

  One bit of good news was Dad’s medical. His skull fracture had healed completely. The doctor had said, ‘You’ve got good strong bones, Mr Neill’ and he’d praised Granny’s good food when he was growing up.

  Granny laughed when Dad told her this medical snippet. ‘Aye, you and Hattie were fed on good Scots fare when you were bairns.’

  Hogmanay was looming but there was little anticipation of a celebration. The war was still going on and there didn’t seem an end in sight – just like Grandad’s illness.

  We had all decided not to celebrate the end of 1942. Even Connie, who always kept so cheerful, seemed tired and drained of energy. She had been listening to Joe who went on and on about the Italians coming over to the side of Allies, forsaking Mussolini and the Germans.

  During the afternoon of a day that was particularly dark and wintry and very depressing, she said to me, ‘I suppose it’s good news – the Italian Army siding with the Allies. It must mean we’re winning although it certainly doesn’t seem like it. Queuing for this and queuing for that – it fair makes you mad.’

  She was right. The rations had been slashed still further and it was getting more difficult to keep a family fed. Thank goodness for potatoes and bread, I always thought.

  ‘Speaking about the Italian Army, Connie, they’re ordinary folk like us and I bet they’re as sick and tired of this war as we are. And the German people as well.’

  Connie nodded. ‘Aye, you’re right, Ann. It’s just the dictators and governments that want to see it go on and on – just for their own glory and a wee mention in the history books.’

  Greg’s letter arrived the next morning. Instead of being overjoyed by the sight of it, I was suddenly plunged into a panic.

  He wrote, ‘I’m getting another short leave and will be home for the New Year with a special licence in my pocket. It’s time to tie the knot, don’t you think, Ann?’

  I had spent a long hard night with Grandad as he didn’t sleep very well because of the cough and pain in his chest. I was feeling so tired and, afterwards, when the damage was done, I realised I wasn’t thinking straight. Of course, it would be great to see him but to get married? Not yet, I thought – especially with Grandad so ill.