Sunshine Spirit

by Barbara Willis

  Beginnings and Decisions

  The kind lady showed Jane to her room. She was gentle and softly spoken, but she wasn't Mrs Cavendish. No-one could live up to Mrs Cavendish. Mrs Foster explained the running of the house and left Jane to settle in. Jane thanked her new landlady then sat on the bed as she left and closed the door behind her.

  Jane looked around again at the room she'd seen the day before. It was a nice room; basic, but clean and light. Bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers, dressing table, chair. She hung her three donated outfits in the wardrobe and placed her underclothes and nightdress in the top drawer of the chest. She had no need of the other two drawers at present, her own clothes being in a drawer underneath 20 Alderney Street. Slipping off her shoes she lay back on the bed. Monday tomorrow. So much for Sunday being a day of rest. There had been lots to organise, in addition to saying a sad farewell to Mrs Cavendish at the station. Dear Mrs C, and Florence, Aggie and Dorothy; Jane's cherished ex-housemates were now scattered. At the school hall rushed plans had been made to meet on the Sunday, the girls all keen to see each other soon to find out where each would be living.

  Jane was still relieved to see her friends again, even though she knew they were all safe. The meeting place had been decided as Hampney Park. Jane arrived to find Dorothy and they were soon joined by Aggie. Florence, flustered, windswept and arms waving at them dramatically had appeared a good twenty minutes after the agreed time. She wafted into their midst like multi coloured silk ribbons in the wind; in beautifully compelling disarray. Even windswept she turned heads. The four young women hugged and kissed with each new arrival. Once all were assembled arms were linked and they marched to Hampney Teas, a small restaurant at night and tea shop by day that sat just outside the park gates.

  Nestled at a table, the girls' news tumbled out; there was much to talk about and update each other on. Their first topic naturally fell into the rubble of Alderney Street, somewhere that for the moment they still called home. The excited chatter of reunited friends that had fallen from their lips moments before was replaced with the subdued acceptance of fate. Words slowed and emotions stirred. Hesitance and sadness replaced the jumble of girly chatter. Dorothy, pretty, delicate and intellectual, dabbed unashamedly at her eyes as they reminisced about the happy times they'd spent under the protective and matronly wing of Mrs Cavendish. Thanks was once more voiced that Jane was safe and the mood lifted with recognition that life was the most precious possession one could have; all of them had escaped with this priceless commodity despite the collapse of their home. They all voiced promises to write to Mrs Cavendish very soon.

  The girls' new addresses were shared and notebooks updated. Telephone numbers, where available, were jotted down.

  Dorothy, a secretary at a firm of solicitors, had found sanctuary with a work colleague. Another secretary at the practice had come to her aid and offered a spare room for as long as she should need.

  'I'll be alright there, but it won't be the same. I'm going to miss you all so much.' Dorothy smiled sadly and all three of her friends leaned towards her at the same time to pat her hand, touch her arm or rub her shoulder.

  Florence, pale and blue eyed and with ribbons of glorious red hair, had thrown herself on the mercy of a distant relative who had come up trumps and opened her home to her. Florence worked 'front of house' in two different theatres. Now that shows were no longer daily and her working hours reduced, she had pieced together two jobs to make one, working mainly in the ticket office and cloakroom but filling in with whatever else was required.

  Aggie, unable to find anywhere within a reasonable distance of her own workplace, had called upon Florence in anguish. Florence's great aunt twice removed, or so Florence had detailed, accepted Aggie in the same spirit that she'd opened her arms to her young relative. Her home was surprisingly Bohemian and Aggie had been left in no doubt as to where Florence's genes had lain before descending to her.

  Aggie decided to lift the mood with a description of her new home. 'Well, I've been accepted into a home that frightens and excites me all at once. Honestly. It's…it's floaty and…inventive? Like living in a technicolor tent that's faded.' She smiled conspiratorially at Florence, who decided to join in.

  'Ah, but the parties we shall experience Aggie; just wait and see. And the stories my aunt can tell of the lovers she's had. She was the paramour of some famous painter once, apparently. She still moves in arty circles; wait 'til she introduces us girls to everyone. It's another world. We'll not have time to miss each other, we'll just be too busy recovering from night long parties and dances and raucous revelry.'

  'Oh good Lord, Florence, your aunt's a concubine!' Jane gasped.

  Florence pretended to be affronted and replied haughtily, 'I prefer the term avant-garde.'

  All four girls laughed at the pictures that had been drawn and which had dried and warmed their damp spirits.

  When afternoon threatened to turn its attention towards evening, the friends knew it was time to part company and make their way towards their new homes. They all gave more hugs and kisses as parting gifts before they left.

  In the blacked out room that night, Jane found it hard to sleep. Every noise startled or unsettled her. Several times she thought she heard the screaming whistle, but an explosion didn't follow. The bumps, pops and bangs were further away. The two nights in the school hall, despite their discomfort, noise and activity, had been strangely more restful and somehow felt safer. The people there seemed competent, in charge and protecting. Now Jane was exposed and alone, away from the people who helped and organised and saved. She supposed mental peace would come when the freshness of her situation dulled, the edges smoothed; they'd still be there but less harsh, less likely to bruise her confidence with fear.

  The morning came and Jane rose for work. Normality, at least in its current form, was restored. Jane had lain in the bath the night before, at last washing the dust and the remnants of Alderney Street from her body.

  She rose, washed and dressed, delighting in the simple pleasures of brushing clean hair and putting on clean, if strange, clothes.

  At work, she'd forget about home for a while as another world took her. Her colleagues would fuss about her for a while, as word of her temporary burial would have spread round the hotel like ink on wet blotting paper. The hotel was a pleasant place to work with a comfortable camaraderie and despite the strict codes of conduct to be followed, as long as everyone did their job as they should, the hotel was a friendly place. Those who worked there generally considered themselves fortunate to be in the employ of such a prestigious hotel and took pride in what they did; the worst employee transgressions were the occasional sloping off ten minutes early by one or two of the chambermaids, once their work was done, or the lightening of the day with a spot of harmless gossip.

  An early start for Jane used to mean that she walked the streets when they were quiet and most of the city just waking. For weeks now, it also meant that she walked the streets not knowing what to expect at each corner. A turn of the pavement could offer the relative quiet of a street just stirring, shops awakening, front doors opening, a man whistling, a working day beckoning inhabitants and businesses. Now a bend in the journey could bring a closed road, a lost street, dust or recovery.

  Jane's early shift on the front reception desk began at seven and she was, as always, at her post and ready for the day by quarter to. As she foretold, there was much bustling about her and asking after her welfare and her experience. A few of the girls gave her clothes and other necessities which Jane accepted with grace and thanks, moved by their kindness. Not one for the limelight, she played down her ordeal. She was the only one who knew that it would never leave her; that she heard the sounds in her head many times a day; that she jumped at sudden noises and checked the location of her gas mask repeatedly throughout each day; that her handbag had new additions and left her side as rarely as was possible, now harbouring ration book, matches, bandage, whistle…

  Jane saw
all the usual faces. A few of the guests who had heard about her recent encounter with Hitler had asked after her; Mrs Cartlyn, Mrs Henderson, Mr Callaghan, the Franklins, Dr Bishop. With each enquiry, she smiled and said she was as fit as a fiddle. She made no mention of the loss of her home or the nervous fear, the involuntary jumpiness, which was left behind in the bomb's exploding wake.

  Mrs Cartlyn was the first to ask after Jane, in an indirect way; not one for small talk with the staff, she had seen Jane and called out to her across the foyer as she made her way grandly to her car.

  'Jane. I'm delighted to see that you are at your desk.' She waved her hand through the air with a flourish and a flick of dismissal. 'One must not let this ghastly business get in the way of life.' And with that she was gone. Clearly Jane wasn't either invisible or faceless to Mrs Cartlyn, something the rest of the staff felt they were. Mrs Cartlyn had given Jane a warm feeling of affection as she, and all who heard, knew that the words the old lady had tossed across the foyer were as close to kindness and friendship as anyone in the hotel had ever received from the formidable old woman.

  Mrs Henderson had gently touched Jane's hand and said she'd heard the awful news, Mr Callaghan had tipped his hat and enquired after her health and home, Dr Bishop was kind, the Franklins showed concern. Jane was touched that so many people had asked her how she was, but was also glad when the enquiries from colleagues and guests ceased and she could continue with her day anonymously, as if nothing had happened last week that was different to any other.

  The only hesitation on Jane's part that day was as Mr Hugh Callaghan walked away after his enquiry. She'd paused to watch him. It was now his turn to remind her of someone; he reminded her of the man who'd called her sunshine, rather than the other way around.

  The hours hurried by; lunch came and went and soon the end of her shift pulled Jane from the front desk and towards the staff locker room. For a few moments she forgot that Alderney Street didn't wait for her return. It was only as she looked in the mirror to push a hatpin through her donated hat that recollection came. She stared at her reflection for a while. Sighing, she picked up her handbag and made a mental note not to forget that it was a different route to walk or a different bus that would take her home, a word which didn't yet summon up images of her new abode.

  As Jane walked away from the hotel, her mind tiptoed back to the school hall and the well meaning invite that she'd received there from William Batten. Without realising it her brisk steps slowed a little with her wandering thoughts and, without a doubt or second thought, she realised that she was going to go to his matinee the next day.

  Jane found that the thought lifted her spirits into optimism and her lips into a smile.

  A trip to the theatre would be fun.

  Life was short.

  Warmth

  Jane's Tuesday shift passed as it always did, in waves of activity and gentle lulls. There were all the usual tasks to undertake; guests to look after, post to sort, bookings to make or change and telephone calls to answer with a smile in her voice. Through all this, though, somewhere Jane felt anticipation. It hovered discreetly, there all day from the moment she rose. It tried to hide in the shadow of the day's activity but was still luminous, a glow-worm wrapped in cotton.

  No-one knew of Jane's tentative plan for the afternoon. It hadn't yet been spoken and given life. It was still caged within Jane's mind, which meant that it could be changed or cancelled with no query or reproach from anyone but her. Not that anyone would be interested, thought Jane, except obviously the girls. Jane gave in to a little smile; Florence and Aggie would be excited and smothering, asking and waiting and wanting to know all, Dorothy would suggest sense and caution. Jane would feel a mixture of all of these things.

  At the end of her shift, Jane smiled her goodbyes to her colleagues and found her feet taking her quickly to her locker. She was keen not to linger in conversation or on extended duties, as she so often did. As she checked her reflection, tidied her hair and added her hat she paused to question herself and could hear a Dorothy caution. Before she had time to deal with her own probing questions, one of the restaurant girls came in.

  'Hello Jane, all done for the day then?'

  'Yes, just about.'

  'Off home? Getting cold out there isn't it? Still, at least it's not raining.'

  'Too true,' said Jane, keen to leave and not to encourage a long conversation. 'See you tomorrow Sally.'

  'Yes, see you Jane.'

  Jane picked up her handbag and gas mask and left. She stepped out onto the street to head not for home, but to the Majesty. She wasn't really sure what had prompted her decision to act on the invitation offered in the school hall. She'd initially had no plans to go to the theatre, as flattering as the invitation had been from the handsome young actor. But, for some reason, as Monday drew to a close, her thoughts crept towards the apparent suitor. Something had brought him to mind earlier during the day, and he'd hovered in her head patiently until she was in her room that evening. Then he'd managed to entice her thoughts back to him and force a change of heart. What harm could it do? Jane loved the theatre, a very rare treat despite the proximity of all the sparkling theatres of the West End.

  Her footsteps fell a little more briskly than usual and she was at the theatre by half past three. Pausing for a moment to look at the posters that called its patrons to enter, Jane was taken in by the romance of the lights and the brass and the treats within. A woman bumped Jane's arm, saying sorry as she continued into the foyer of the grand venue. This disturbed Jane's daydream and she continued past the building to the alleyway at the side. Glancing along the alley before her feet took her there, she saw the sign which announced Stage Door and walked towards it bravely.

  Just as Will had said, Frank was there and greeted Jane warmly even before she explained that Will had invited her. Once she'd introduced herself, he said he'd been told she might be coming and guided her though the backstage maze to a spot next to some important looking ropes and pulleys to the right of the stage. There was an excited hush backstage as the show had already begun. Frank quietly explained that she'd be fine standing there and just to stand back out of the way when any actors or stage gang needed to pass. Jane nodded solemnly, but with an undeniable surge of excitement in her chest.

  She watched spellbound and without moving for the next hour as the show progressed and people dashed to and fro. The thrill of standing so close to the stage as the show unfolded was something Jane had not expected to feel. And her first glimpse of Will on the stage also brought a feeling that Jane hadn't anticipated. She gasped a little involuntary breath and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. It was so small an action that they couldn't possibly have seen, but Jane felt that the entire backstage fraternity must have seen her eyes widen and her cheeks flush.

  At the interval Jane stepped back to let the bustle continue around her. The curtain fell and people dashed onto the stage to adjust the scenes and prepare for the continuation of the show. A hand took Jane's arm and she turned quickly, surprised, scared for an instant that she'd accidentally touched a lever or leaned against a rope.

  'I'm so glad you came.' Will smiled down at her. 'Are you enjoying the show?'

  'Yes, very much. It's exciting to see everything going on.'

  'It's a different world isn't it?' The question needed no answer and Will continued. 'I've got to go but when it's over wait right here, in this spot.' He pointed to the floor unnecessarily. 'I'll come and get you.' With that he was gone, disappearing amongst the organised tangle of scenery, curtains, props and people.

  At the end of the performance, the curtain dropped and there was another surge of activity. This time, however, it wasn't the frenetic buzz of change and preparation but a happy throng of back slaps, handshakes and people rushing to change and leave. It was still a hot and busy place, but now it moved a little slower.

  A few minutes after the final curtain call Will was back at her side.

  'All done,'
he said. 'Let's get outside and away from this madness.' It was a madness he clearly loved. He smiled as he led her through the puzzle of backstage paraphernalia, saying goodbye to numerous people on the way through and hearing calls of see you tomorrow and good show Will.

  Leap of Faith

  'Did you enjoy the show?' Will asked, as he smiled and held the door open for her. Jane returned his smile as they stepped out into the cold early evening. After the heat and activity of backstage, the quiet of the street outside the stage door and the fresh air on Jane's face was a surprising but pleasant contrast.

  'Absolutely. I can't believe the activity that goes on backstage. I knew it'd be busy, but the show that people actually see really is just the tip of the iceberg. It was fascinating to watch the performance from behind the curtain. Thank you for inviting me.'

  'You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I'm glad you came. Would you like to go for a drink or maybe a stroll? Something to eat?' He looked at her for her choice, but added just in case, 'Or should I take you home?' He suddenly looked horrified. 'I'm so sorry. I can't believe I haven't asked you about your home.' He shook his head, disappointed with himself. 'How insensitive am I? God, Jane, I'm sorry.' He touched Jane's arm gently in apology, though she felt more touched by his shame than his hand.

  'Don't be sorry.'

  'Well, I am. Where are you staying now, is everything sorted out?'

  Jane smiled. 'Yes, all sorted. I'm staying with a friend of my landlady's. My landlady's gone to stay at her daughter's in Somerset somewhere. There were four of us girls and Mrs Cavendish at Alderney Street.' Will looked worried again.