The Street of Broken Dreams

by Tania Crosse

  ‘That’s Mrs Hayes and her little daughter, Lily,’ Eva pointed out to the newcomers once the initial hullabaloo had died down enough for her to make herself heard. ‘They live at Number Three.’

  ‘Yes, sure, didn’t they pop over to say hello the other day,’ Bridie told her with a smile. ‘Nice lady, and what a lovely little girl.’

  ‘Did she tell you poor Mr Hayes was killed on ARP duty last year?’ Eva asked, lowering her voice respectfully. ‘And have you met Miss Chalfont? She lives at Number Three, as well, in the basement. School mistress she is. And then, at Number Five, you’ve got the Smiths and their little girl, Jeannie, what’s Lily’s best friend. And loads of relatives what got bombed out, too. Oh, but if you’ll excuse us, I need to talk to people about the street party what we’ve been planning. Come on, Bridie, you need to come with us. Good opportunity for you to get to know people.’

  Cissie’s face stretched, quite overwhelmed, as Eva whisked Bridie away. But, a second later, both Jake and Mildred were at her side again.

  ‘Mum roping your mum in, too, I see,’ Jake chuckled, half embarrassed.

  ‘Well, of course Bridie’ll wanna be involved, won’t she, Cissie?’ Mildred chided him. ‘That’s the whole point, ain’t it? Everyone mucking in together. And I can’t think of nothing better to bring us all together than peace after all this blooming time! Tell you what. I bet it’s gonna be like nothing what you’ve ever seen up the West End! We gotta go!’

  Mildred’s face was gleaming, stars dancing in her eyes as they moved expectantly from Cissie to Jake and back again. But Cissie was looking hesitant and unsure. Jake noticed her expression, too, and leapt to her rescue.

  ‘Why don’t we celebrate with our families tonight, and then go up the West End tomorrow?’ he suggested. ‘Best of both? We can go up The Mall and that. I bet you the King’ll come out on the balcony of Buck Palace. Wouldn’t it be great to see that?’ he asked, his cheeks glowing with excitement.

  ‘Thank Gawd I’ve got tomorrow off,’ Mildred declared with a sharp sigh. ‘It might be a flipping public holiday, but they’ll need the buses and what have you running just like normal.’

  ‘Yes, it’ll be heaving!’ Jake agreed delightedly. He could see Cissie still seemed reluctant, but he couldn’t let her miss out on this historic moment. She’d done something to him he couldn’t quite explain, and he wanted to share the experience with her. ‘We’ll look after you, I promise. But maybe not bring Zac this time. Remember how he was when we went up to see Big Ben.’

  He was gazing down at Cissie, his brow rucked into an expectant frown as if he would burst if she refused. Bless him, Cissie thought, he didn’t realise how he was trying to drag her from the empty world she had retreated into, and she felt as if she was being rent in two. Half of her wanted to go, but the other half wanted to keep quiet and safe. Last week when they’d gone up to see Big Ben reilluminated, the crowds had frightened her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. What if he was there? What if by some vile coincidence she saw him again? She must take a grip on herself. What were the chances of that? And if Zac didn’t come with them, Jake really could look after her. And she did trust him in that way. So, losing herself in his kind, handsome face, she slowly nodded.

  ‘Fantastic!’ he grinned back.

  An instant later, Mildred had enveloped her in a bear hug and was rocking her from side to side as she asked, ‘Right, what we gonna do for the rest of this evening, then?’

  As her embrace slackened, Cissie managed to extricate herself and stood for a moment, bewildered and astonished at her own decision. It felt as if some kernel of peace was unfurling inside her. It would take time to open up and blossom, but perhaps these good, down-to-earth people would help her find a way out of the darkness. Perhaps the move had been worthwhile in more ways than one!

  Twelve

  ‘What you doing with that, love?’ Stan enquired the following morning as Eva was carefully measuring a little of their margarine and cooking fat ration into a bowl.

  ‘Arranged it last night,’ Eva explained. ‘Everyone in the street’s gonna give what they can spare of everything. And then some of us are going over to Ellen’s to make whatever we can, jam tarts, sausage rolls – well, made with minced-up spam, anyway. She’s a bloody good cook is Ellen, and she’s got one of the biggest kitchens in the street. Bridie’s coming, too, so it’ll be a nice way for her to get to know some of the other women better.’

  ‘What about the baby, if Cissie’s coming with us?’ Mildred demanded, hoping it wouldn’t mean her new friend couldn’t come with them after all.

  ‘Oh, Ron and Zac are looking after her, and Bridie’ll only be across the street if she’s needed.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll call into them later on, then. Take a jug up to the off-licence at the Cambridge when it opens and get some beer to take with me,’ Stan winked wickedly. ‘Best way to get to know someone is over a pint.’

  ‘Typical man!’ Mildred groaned. ‘Here, you nearly ready, bruv? I just need to put on me lipstick. Been saving me last stub of Caribbean Sunset just for this, I have.’

  ‘No need to tart yourself up,’ Jake teased. ‘What would Gary say?’

  ‘Gary ain’t here, is he?’ Mildred reminded him playfully, dismissing all thought of Gary from her head. ‘There,’ she announced, stepping back from the old mottled mirror over the fireplace as she rolled her now crimson lips together. ‘How do I look with me Union Jack scarf on me head?’ she continued to preen, patting her springing curls that poked out beneath their patriotic halo. And then she chivvied good-naturedly, ‘Come on, hurry up. Let’s hope Cissie’s ready on time.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter if she’s not. Haven’t got one of your buses to catch, have we?’ Jake laughed as he trotted out of the room in his sister’s wake. ‘See you all later. And don’t forget Mr Churchill at three o’clock!’

  ‘Won’t miss that for the blooming world!’ Eva called after them.

  A minute later, Jake had to stifle a gasp when Cissie opened the front door to Number Twelve. She was wearing a dress he hadn’t seen before, short, puffed sleeves with a Peter Pan collar around her slender throat, a tight bodice with a white belt accentuating her tiny waist, and a skirt that caressed her slim hips. But, most of all, his admiration was caught by her glossy hair, part of which was caught up on her head with red, white and blue ribbons, while the rest hung down her back in a smooth curtain of silk. So many women either had their hair twisted into a victory roll or cut short and permed, but you didn’t see long locks flowing freely like that too often. She looked so stunning that it took Jake’s breath away. And so vulnerable that he wanted to protect her there and then.

  ‘You look… lovely,’ he gulped. And noticed her eyes dart at him warily.

  ‘I’ll just get my coat,’ she murmured.

  ‘Nah, you won’t need it,’ Mildred interrupted. ‘It’s turned really warm this morning. Just bring a cardi.’

  ‘Oh, if you’re sure,’ Cissie answered and, a second or so later, reappeared with a pretty Fair Isle cardigan Jake had glimpsed beneath her coat on the night they’d gone to watch Big Ben return to life. She looked a proper picture, Jake thought to himself and felt proud that he’d be spending this momentous day with such a beautiful girl – almost as if she was his sweetheart.

  He and Mildred waited patiently while Cissie called her goodbyes to her family, and then a few steps brought them to the end of the street and Battersea Bridge Road, which, not surprisingly, was busier than ever. But instead of pedestrians beetling along, heads down as they went about their weary business, the atmosphere was jovial, everyone smiling and nodding at each other and calling out, ‘Wonderful, isn’t it?’ to total strangers.

  ‘Right, where shall we go, d’you think?’ Mildred asked, though from the looks of her, she’d go anywhere, Jake mused happily to himself.

  ‘Let’s head up to Piccadilly,’ he suggested. ‘We can go through the park, then over Chelsea Bridge and cut up through Victoria a
nd round the back of Buckingham Palace. And then we can walk inside Green Park on our way. Hopefully it won’t be quite so crowded if we go that way,’ he explained thoughtfully, remembering how Cissie had resembled a frightened rabbit when he’d first suggested their outing the night before. It seemed odd after the way she’d stood up to those two bullies who’d been taking the mickey out of Zac when they’d gone up to Westminster. But maybe she had actually been so scared that she’d reacted like a demon herself? ‘What d’you think?’ he asked the two girls by his side. ‘We’ve got all day, so we can take our time. Stop in the parks for a rest. ’Specially if your ankle starts hurting, Cissie. And, Milly, you know all the bus and tram routes if we need them. So, good idea?’

  Cissie and Mildred exchanged glances and nodded. So they made their way across to Battersea Park, which, Cissie noted, was so much more appealing in the warm sunshine than it had been the previous overcast afternoon. The brightness was spangling like diamonds on the raindrops that had collected overnight on the thick leaves of the tulips everywhere, so that the flower beds resembled glittering carpets of gold and yellow, orange and scarlet.

  ‘Did you hear that awful thunderstorm in the night?’ Cissie was prompted to ask, remembering how it had woken the baby, who was only just starting to sleep through until six o’clock in the morning.

  ‘Couldn’t flaming not,’ Mildred scoffed, since catching up on sleep was paramount on her days off. ‘It was like another bloody air raid. Only it was fantastic to know it wasn’t.’

  ‘And it’s cleared the air so we’ve got this glorious day today,’ Jake put in, a smile fixed on his face, he was so enthralled to be out with Cissie again – as well as the obvious. ‘Glorious in more ways than one!’ he crowed.

  ‘I bet it put the dampers on the revellers; it came down so heavy,’ Cissie went on, feeling more relaxed as she joined in the conversation. ‘They say the crowds went mad in the West End last night.’

  ‘Some of them were probably too drunk to notice the rain,’ Jake laughed. ‘But I promise you I will remain utterly sober. Who needs to get drunk on beer when you can get drunk on happiness?’

  And on having such a good-looking girl by your side, he thought to himself, his eyes swivelling to gaze down on Cissie. She looked up at him, smiling shyly, it seemed. And his heart took wing. Both his mum and his sister might want to do a bit of matchmaking, teasing or otherwise. But now that he was getting to know Cissie better, perhaps he didn’t mind so much!

  ‘I wonder if they’ll start on the second phase of the power station soon, now the war’s over,’ he thought aloud as they reached the far side of the park. The skyline in the direction of central London was dominated by the cathedral-like edifice whose two chimneys towered up behind the buildings in Queenstown Road. ‘Isn’t it great to be able to say that? The war’s over.’

  ‘Flipping is,’ Mildred agreed, ‘even if Japan’s still going on.’

  ‘So what’s the second phase of the power station supposed to be?’ Cissie asked.

  ‘Virtually doubling in size. With a second chimney at either end. It’ll make a huge difference to the electricity supply. And with no more bombs to disrupt it either, things’ll start feeling civilised again.’

  ‘Yes, it wouldn’t be the first time the lights went out in the middle of a performance,’ Cissie grimaced. ‘Somewhat ruins it if you’re suddenly plunged into darkness.’

  ‘Yeah, I can imagine. Had it happened at the flicks. Blooming annoying if you never get to see the end of the film.’

  ‘More important than that, it’ll make a difference to our light industry,’ Jake went on knowledgeably. ‘I’m not sure how wide it’ll spread from here, but it’d help the factories up the East End if they’ve got a more reliable power supply. Those that weren’t completely destroyed in the Blitz, of course. It’ll all help the country get back on its feet. I suppose armament factories will go back to making peace-time type products. After all, the government’ll want to provide jobs for all the men being demobbed.’

  ‘Oh, my Gawd.’ Mildred stopped in her tracks, utterly horrified. ‘You don’t think I’ll lose me job on the buses, do you? I’d hate to have to go back to working in a shop or something like what I did before!’

  ‘It’s possible, I’m afraid, sis. There was some talk last year about businesses being obliged to give men back their jobs if they wanted them.’

  ‘Oh.’ Jake watched as his sister’s face fell for just a moment before she perked up again. ‘Well, I’m not gonna let it spoil things. It ain’t every day you celebrate a flaming world war being over!’

  Despite her enthusiasm, Jake heard the catch in her voice near the end of her words. The world war wasn’t over yet. Only the war in Europe. Nobody knew that more than Mildred, and Jake had to admire his sister for forcing it to the back of her mind, just as she had the prospect of losing the occupation she loved so much.

  ‘I suppose I’m lucky having a job I’m passionate about,’ Cissie chipped in. ‘And you can’t replace female dancers with male ones.’

  ‘Well, they’d look a bit silly in them things, you know, with the fluffy skirts!’ Mildred chortled with mirth.

  ‘Tutus, you mean? Yes, I suppose they would,’ Cissie smiled back. ‘Although it’s the talent that counts, and the build. My partner, Sean, he’s really slight, but he’s incredibly strong. He mightn’t look so daft in a tutu. He’s Irish, like Mum. That’s why he wasn’t conscripted, of course.’

  ‘You going back to work soon, then?’ Mildred enquired.

  ‘Yes, I reckon the beginning of next month. I’m doing a few hours’ training every day to strengthen up my ankle.’

  ‘Talking of work, did you speak to Zac last night? D’you want Dad or me to ask at Price’s?’ Jake asked helpfully.

  ‘Oh, yes, please. But it must be something clean.’

  Cissie glanced up gratefully at Jake, although he noticed the tiny muscles in her forehead twitch with concern. The way she cared for her brother touched his heart, and he’d also noticed a couple of times how she kept an eye on her poor dad, too. The more he saw of her, the more he liked her. But though she was becoming more friendly, there was still something reserved about her, a barrier he had the feeling would never come down.

  ‘Well, I’m gonna burst if I don’t do something to let off me steam of happiness!’ Mildred declared theatrically as they left the park through Chelsea Bridge Gate and came out onto Queenstown Road. ‘Race you across the bridge!’ And, her eyes sparkling with challenge, she suddenly raced forward.

  Jake and Cissie exchanged amused glances and then as he saw Cissie’s eyes dart after his sister, Jake’s face broke into a grin. An instant later, they were off in pursuit, dodging the other pedestrians on the bridge’s pavement and laughing as they ran. Nobody minded seeing these young people larking about on such an important day. An old couple, hand in hand, smiled at them as they scooted past, for they could see the young lad was probably coming up to conscription age and yet now wouldn’t have to go and fight unless the conflict with Japan dragged on. Women with children, too, were only too glad the war was over and to witness youngsters playing the fool in their jubilation.

  ‘Mind your ankle,’ Jake warned as they weaved about in their headlong rush.

  ‘Yes, I’m being careful,’ Cissie assured him.

  They were only seconds behind Mildred and easily caught her up as she stopped at the far side of the long bridge, panting as she leant over to look down into the water that twinkled in the sunlight.

  ‘Not as fit as you thought, eh?’ Jake chided, though he was breathing heavily himself. To his amazement, Cissie was the least affected of them all. While tiny beads of sweat dotted his sister’s brow, Cissie appeared as cool as a cucumber and not in the least out of breath. Her few hours’ training a day, as she put it, must be far more strenuous than he imagined to build up her stamina like that. And, for some inexplicable reason, he felt his chest swell with pride.

  As they continued up
towards Buckingham Palace, the crowds became more dense and the triumphant atmosphere was electric. Jake felt he could smell celebration in the air, and he could almost have shouted out his delight at sharing it with Cissie. But he felt there was no point in allowing himself to become too smitten with her.

  They crossed along behind the palace gardens and into Green Park. A street vendor was selling little Union Jacks on sticks and Jake waited patiently in the queue to buy them one each, proud to make a gift of one to Cissie – although she protested that she’d pay him back as soon as she was working again.

  The sun was getting stronger and Jake insisted they had a rest, sitting on the grass beneath the shade of a tree. All around them, people were celebrating, singing and dancing, and children were playing games of tag, while a group of young boys were running about with arms outstretched pretending to be aeroplanes.

  Along the pavement, men were working with cables and loudspeakers, testing out a tannoy system that was apparently going to cover the entire city. The first tune that was playing as they got it to work was ‘Don’t Sit under the Apple Tree’, and Jake couldn’t resist joining in at once, raising his eyebrows at Cissie as he sang. Mildred also began belting out the words, but Cissie seemed content just to listen.

  ‘You’ve got a lovely voice,’ she told Jake to his utter embarrassment when the song came to an end. ‘And you said you play the guitar, as well.’

  ‘Blooming good at it, too,’ Mildred nodded, bringing a flush to Jake’s cheeks.

  ‘Not really,’ he insisted bashfully. ‘I just strum along. I learnt from a neighbour of Gert’s when we all went to live with her and her hubby when the war started. I don’t think it’s something I’d ever have thought about otherwise. Other than kicking a football around with a few mates from school, there wasn’t much else to do. And then I heard their neighbour playing at a little get-together and I just loved it. He was kind enough to give me lessons for free, and when I came back to London, he gave me one of his guitars.’