The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow

by Maureen Reynolds

  I tried to tell him I had been freezing all the time but my tongue didn’t seem to work and my mouth was dry. Dave stopped and gave me a sip of water. I felt like grabbing the bottle from his hand and draining every drop but I resisted this urge because I was so stunned and embarrassed. Imagine putting all these men to so much bother. They wouldn’t be very pleased with me. Had I heard them wrong when they mentioned being out all night?

  I must have become a burden to the young man who initially carried me from the stone because he put me down. His place was taken by another heftily built man who picked me up as if I was a feather.

  We seemed to be ages on the hill before the mist disappeared and the sun came out.

  I was confused. ‘What time is it, please?’

  ‘Just after seven o’clock,’ said Dave.

  ‘I’ve been gone five hours,’ I said, thinking I must have been wrong when I heard something about being out all night.

  The man who was carrying me said, ‘No, it’s seven o’clock in the morning, lass.’

  I was shattered. All night on the hill – I hadn’t misheard.

  Then the farmhouse came into view and Babs and Lily ran out.

  Lily had been crying but she smiled when she saw me. ‘Oh, Ann, are you all right?’

  I gave her a weak smile which was all I could muster. ‘I’m fine, Lily – just a bit cold and wet.’

  Babs filled the tin bath by the fire and left me to soak in its warm depths while the men gathered in the yard. Dave produced a bottle of whisky and they all had a dram before setting off back to where they came from.

  Where had all these men come from? I wondered. Probably from the neighbouring farms, I decided.

  When I was dried and dressed in warm clean clothes, Babs cooked me a huge breakfast and poured me a large cup of tea. I tried to eat something but my throat felt sore from the cold air and the calling out. The cup of tea, however, was very welcome and I felt it warming me through and through.

  ‘I’m sorry for all the fuss I’ve caused, Babs. I didn’t realise how far I’d walked and, by the time I tried to return, the mist had come down.’

  Babs said, ‘Everything’s fine. The mist can come down on these hills even during a lovely day like yesterday. It wasn’t your fault, Ann. You weren’t to know how dangerous the hills can be.’

  The mention of danger brought back Ma Ryan’s warning but, sitting in the warmth of the kitchen, I felt foolish for thinking I was in any danger. Perhaps, if I’d had the sense to get myself off the hill, then I would have been spared all this humiliation of having half the glen searching for me.

  ‘I should have got myself down, Babs.’ I didn’t want to mention Ma. I didn’t know if Babs believed in or knew of Ma’s sixth sense – and, anyway, you had to know Ma to believe in her.

  Dave came in at that moment. ‘It’s just as well you didn’t try and walk any further, Ann. Just a few yards in the wrong direction from that stone is a two-hundred-foot drop. One moment, you’re on terra firma and the next, there’s nothing but space.’

  Babs nodded. ‘It’s a right dangerous spot up there – especially if you don’t know the area.’

  My mouth went dry and I suddenly felt faint. I recalled the dark shadow that loomed out of the mist. Thank goodness I had stopped when I had, otherwise I could be lying at the foot of the gully, dead or injured. If it hadn’t been for Ma’s warning … I shivered.

  To shake off this image, I asked, ‘Who were all the men who were on the hill?’

  ‘Some are neighbours from the farms near us but the two big Irish men are workers from the hydroelectric scheme. They came off the train last night and were walking back to the camp when they saw us heading off on the search. They insisted on helping out and thank goodness they did because we were looking in a different spot for you when they went off in the direction of the stone. You certainly wandered far off the track, Ann.’

  I remembered walking for ages and how I had backtracked, back and forth – no wonder I was totally lost.

  Then I remembered the engagement ring and I cried out.

  Babs saw my face. ‘What’s the matter, Ann?’

  Tears had started to roll down my cheeks. ‘I lost my engagement ring, Babs – the one Greg gave me years ago. I brought it here to leave for him but it’s lost. It was in my pocket.’

  She said, ‘Don’t worry about it – Dave will find it.’

  She didn’t sound too sure and I knew that looking for a tiny box amongst all that undergrowth would be an impossible task.

  Babs wanted us to stay for another day but I said I felt fine for the travelling. Lily also looked grateful to be leaving and I was mentally kicking myself for ruining her holiday.

  We said our goodbyes to Babs and once more we clambered into Dave’s van. Before leaving, I left notes for all my helpers, thanking them for looking for me. I also said to give my best wishes to Greg and his future wife and I really meant it. After having faced death the night before, I realised what a great life I had and the least I could do was to be gracious to the Borlands.

  In the train going home, Lily began to cry. ‘I thought you were dead, Ann. The men came off the hill last night and said there was no trace of you. Everybody was wondering where you could have got to.’

  I was mortified by all the fuss I had caused. ‘Don’t cry, Lily. I’m fine now and everything is going to be just right. You’ll be away in a few weeks and you’ve got all your life in front of you. You’ll be a famous artist – you mark my words.’

  She wiped her tears and gave me a watery-looking grin. ‘Do you think so?’

  I nodded. My head felt heavy and I was dying to reach home and go straight to bed but I had to keep smiling till then. ‘One thing, Lily – I don’t think we should worry Granny about this incident. So we’ll just keep it quiet.’

  Lily agreed.

  At the end of the week and totally out of the blue I got a letter from Greg. I was so surprised that I opened it without thinking. Babs had told him about my accident and he was worried – or so he said.

  That night, still full of shame about the whole unfortunate incident, I wrote back. It was only courtesy, after all. I told him how stupid I had been but everything had turned out well. I mentioned all the family news. The twins, Hattie and Graham, and Lily’s imminent departure for art college – everything except how I had lost his ring but I didn’t think he would worry too much about that. He had said, at the time, that I should keep it and, now that it was lost, it would make little difference to him during the run-up to his marriage. At the end, I wished them both the best of good wishes on their forthcoming marriage.

  Afterwards, in spite of my brave words, I collapsed into bed in a flood of tears. Thankfully Lily was staying with Dad and Rosie that night so I was the sole witness to my misery and grief.

  21

  It was the beginning of September and Lily and Joy were getting ready to go to art college. It was a heartbreaking time for me as I finally realised I was losing her.

  I recalled my first sight of her away back in 1931 on that searing hot July day when she was born – that awful day when Mum died – and I remembered how it had been love at first sight for me when I saw her lovely face and tiny rosebud mouth. All the years that had passed were filled with memories of us both together but, from now on, I would be without her and I was desolate. Not that I allowed these feelings to show.

  Mrs Pringle had organised a get-together on the Sunday before the girls left and we all turned up. Granny, Bella, Hattie and Graham came along. Dad, Rosie and Jay were also there, as were Danny, Maddie and the children.

  It was a bitter-sweet day and I realised Mrs Pringle was feeling the same emotions I was experiencing. The two girls were full of excitement at their initial step into the world of study and art and this excitement was infectious. We felt as if this step was being taken by us all but of course it wasn’t. We were all staying in the same place while the great big world awaited them.

  In a coupl
e of days’ time, after their departure, I would find myself back at the shop then home to a lonely house. Danny sensed my desolation as he stood beside me. Jay and Daniel were swooping around in the garden, making loud noises.

  ‘You’ll miss her, won’t you, Ann?’ he asked.

  Not trusting myself to answer, I nodded.

  ‘Do you mind when you were working at the Ferry and you bought her that pushchair? Mrs Peters lent you the money for it.’

  It all seemed like a lifetime ago. I managed to laugh. ‘I mind the day Grandad brought the pram home from Jumping Jeemy’s Emporium!’

  Danny laughed as well but Hattie, overhearing our conversation, said in a whisper, ‘Don’t mention that flea-ridden thing here, Ann.’

  We laughed again. Danny said, ‘Mum certainly didn’t like it, did she?’

  Hattie glared at us but I smiled at the memory.

  Danny put his arm around my shoulder. ‘We mustn’t dwell on the past, Ann. Let’s look forward to the future.’

  I promised I would. However, it was a promise I didn’t think I could keep but saying so out loud wouldn’t help so I remained silent.

  In two days’ time, Mrs Pringle was going to Glasgow on the train with the two girls. Mr Pringle had got them accommodation in a nice flat in Sauchiehall Street which had come with good recommendations.

  I had opened a post office account for Lily for everyday expenses and I would pay Mrs Barber, who owned the flat, Lily’s board and lodging money every week. Mr Pringle had also arranged this and the money would come from my legacy which he still managed.

  I had also saved up my clothing coupons and I used them to buy her some extra clothes. I didn’t want her to look dowdy and old-fashioned amongst the students at the college. Granny had knitted her two jumpers and Hattie had given her a lovely woollen skirt to match. Dad and Rosie had also given her some money to spend in Glasgow and a lovely winter dress which was a present from Alice.

  Danny was still speaking about Lily. ‘She’s a credit to you, Ann. Maddie’s parents have always said so and it’s true. You’ve brought her up well.’ He gave me a sharp glance. ‘Have you had any more word from Greg?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, just that one letter, after the accident on the hill.’ I felt my face go red and realised I still felt ashamed about the incident – even after two months had passed.

  Danny said, ‘You were lucky. I heard there was a two-hundred-foot drop just yards from where you were found.’

  I looked around, frightened Granny might overhear what I was about to say, but she was busy chatting to Rosie. I shivered in spite of the warmth of the day. ‘It was Ma Ryan’s warning that alerted me to the danger, Danny. Remember I told you she sent for me one day and told me I was in great danger? Well, that night on the hill, I heard her voice as clear as if she was standing next to me. It was her sixth sense that saved me – just like the last time.’

  Danny looked sad. ‘Miss Hood?’

  I didn’t answer. Miss Hood was part of the past – just as the incident on the hill had to be. From now on, I would settle down to become a dowdy spinster and spend my evenings knitting or doing whatever all lonely spinsters did in their spare time.

  Then Jay and Daniel came running into the room. I was suddenly taken with their different looks and natures and couldn’t help but be amazed how like Lily and Joy they were at that age. Daniel was smaller than Jay and he had Maddie’s fair colouring while Jay was taller and had dark hair and brown eyes. Daniel was the quieter of the two while Jay had also inherited Lily’s appetite. He was holding a huge sandwich in his hand and obviously relishing it while Daniel was more interested in playing with his car.

  Meanwhile, the twins lay asleep in their pram – a twin pram that Maddie’s mum had managed to get hold of. I peeped in to see them and I thought I saw faint red fuzz on their heads.

  Danny laughed. ‘I think James and Patrick are going to be red-haired, like me.’

  I thought that was wonderful and I said so. ‘I’ve always liked your auburn hair, Danny.’

  Then it was time to go home. Lily and I didn’t sleep that night. She was too excited and I was too depressed.

  As we lay awake in the bed settee, she suddenly burst out laughing. ‘Sauchiehall Street, Ann.’

  ‘What about it, Lily?’

  ‘I think I’ll saunter down Sauchiehall Street for a sausage roll or maybe some sugarelly.’

  I laughed as well. ‘Or maybe you can stagger down Sauchiehall Street for a Spam sandwich or a sherbet dip.’

  She became quiet. ‘I will miss you, Ann. I wish you were coming with me.’

  ‘Och, don’t be daft, Lily. You’ll be mixing with young people of your own age – you and Joy. You’ll soon forget all about me.’

  She sounded shocked. ‘Oh, no, Ann! I’ll never, never forget you.’

  On that note we tried to sleep. The next two days would be very busy. We had planned to visit Jean Peters at the Ferry and Nellie and Rita before she left for Glasgow.

  On the way to the Ferry, Lily said, ‘I’m glad I’m getting the chance to say cheerio to Jean.’

  When we reached Long Lane, Jean was already waiting at the door. ‘Come in, come in, Lily. I’ve got your dinner ready.’

  Lily’s face lit up and we were soon sitting down to hot Scotch broth and cheese scones. I didn’t realise how hungry I was and it was great to taste Jean’s lovely cooking again. I remembered how much I had enjoyed it at Whitegate Lodge many years ago.

  ‘We’ve got lodgings in Sauchiehall Street, Jean,’ said Lily. ‘The woman who owns the house is a widow and she knows the Pringle family so we’ll be fine there. I’m a bit worried about the college. I hope my art is good enough and Joy feels the same.’

  Jean soon put these fears to rest. ‘You’ll both be great, Lily. You have real talent and I think you’ll both go far – you mark my words.’

  Lily beamed. ‘Oh, do you think so, Jean?’ She turned and looked at me. ‘Ann thinks I’m good but she’s biased because she’s my sister and sisters are supposed to like everything their wee sisters do.’

  I laughed. ‘You’re using the letter S again, Lily.’

  We told Jean the joke from the night before. Afterwards, just before leaving, Jean asked me, ‘And how are you, Ann?’

  I felt my throat constrict and I wasn’t sure if I could answer without bursting into tears – something I didn’t want to do in front of Lily but Jean seemed to understand and merely squeezed my hand.

  ‘We’ve got something for you, Lily,’ she said instead.

  She disappeared into the bedroom and brought out two small folding art easels. ‘My man made these for you and Joy so we hope they help you with all your paintings.’

  They were beautifully made and we were speechless.

  Then Lily said, ‘Oh, Jean, they’re great! Thank you! I still have my pencil box that you gave me years ago and I’m taking that to Glasgow with me.’

  It was now Jean’s turn to almost cry and I said, ‘And Jay still has the wonderful train he got. Will you thank your man, Jean, for all the both of you have done for us?’

  After another cup of tea, we set off for the Hilltown. Jean stood at the door waving until we were out of sight. I promised to go and see her within the next few weeks. After all, I would have loads of spare time, wouldn’t I?

  The close at the foot of the Hilltown was still as I remembered it. Rita and Nellie, however, were now more prosperous-looking and not so emaciated. What a difference having a working man in the house again made. Rita’s son was also working and the two houses were better furnished and the cupboards, in spite of the rationing, had some tins and food on the shelves.

  However, the rationing was still the main topic. ‘I see Mr Attlee had ordered more austerity cuts,’ said Rita. ‘The meat ration has been cut by tuppence to one shilling and he warns there’s more cuts to come.’

  I knew this was true because the papers had been reporting the shortage of dollars and Britain’s inability to
pay for imports of food. Hadn’t Joe been spouting about this austerity crisis for ages?

  Still, they were so pleased to see Lily. She told them all about her imminent departure for Glasgow in her cheery manner and they were both duly impressed. ‘Imagine somebody from this close going to college!’ said Rita. ‘We’re all so proud of you.’

  I noticed, when she said it, she glanced sympathetically at me. ‘And what about you, Ann? Will you still work at Connie’s shop?’

  I said, ‘Yes, Rita. It’s a job I like and these days Connie is not so able to stand for hours but she’s given me three days off this week to see Lily settled.’

  I noticed the old clock with the merry tick had been replaced as had most of the old furniture. The women had obviously been to Henderson’s furniture shop in the Wellgate and a solid-looking dining room suite was now in residence in both houses. I felt so glad for them as they deserved a bit of comfort and the money now coming into the home had provided it.

  ‘The best news, Ann,’ said Nellie, ‘is that we’re maybe all going to be rehoused into a new house with a bathroom, kitchen and hot water. These old houses are going to be knocked down.’

  I was pleased for them and hoped Dad, Rosie and Jay would also get a new house with all the modern comforts.

  Rita, however, put Nellie’s statement down to wishful thinking. ‘That’s the rumour, Ann, but we’ll believe it when we see it.’

  As we were leaving, a heavily pregnant woman came up the stair. She was holding on to the banister like grim death.

  Rita and Nellie smiled at her. ‘Not long to go now, Mrs McGregor,’ said Rita.

  The woman grimaced in passing. ‘Thank the Lord! I’m getting more and more tired every day.’ She glanced at Lily and me and nodded.

  At the foot of the close, Rita said, ‘Mrs McGregor and her man are the new tenants of your old house, Ann.’

  A look passed between the women and myself and I knew we were all were remembering Mum. Thankfully Lily was ahead of me and she missed this silent communication.

  ‘Keep in touch, both of you,’ they said as we went on our way.