by Tania Crosse
‘Yup. But there’s nothing we can do about it. We’ve just got to make the most of it, kiddo,’ Mildred ended, forcing brightness into her wistful tone. ‘Anyway, I’d better get in to see me brother before visiting ends. Bit of a dragon, Mum said, the ward sister.’
‘Yes. See you soon, then. I’m popping up to the children’s ward to see Jane.’
‘Glad she’s OK. TTFN, then,’ Mildred replied and went in through the doors to the men’s ward.
Cissie turned and walked the opposite way down the corridor. She was going to see her beautiful, darling little daughter.
Epilogue
Six years later – Summer 1951
Cissie was tying on her pointe shoes, tucking in the loose ends of the pink ribbons. It might only be a rehearsal, but you always had to be properly presented. It was all part of the dance ethos.
She was still passionate about her art and still preferred to stay with the same company. She enjoyed the variety it offered, Monsieur Clément developing fresh material all the time, and life had been so much pleasanter since Deidre had left out of the blue all those years ago.
Cissie went over to the barre. They’d done the usual class in soft shoes, so that their muscles were nicely warmed up and stretched. But the blocks were new – an unusual occurrence – and she wanted to mould them to her feet a little before the rehearsal began. She’d darned the toes to make them last longer. Supplies were far better now than during the war, but old habits died hard.
‘Right, are we ready?’ Monsieur Clément bustled into the studio. ‘Ah, Cissie, ma chérie, I have something for you. The office have just given it to me.’
The dance master held out an envelope to her. Cissie frowned as she took it. Why should she receive a letter at the studio? That was very odd. And the stamp was unfamiliar. Her hands began to shake as some sort of realisation filtered through to her brain. Miss Cecily Cresswell, c/o The Romaine Theatre Company, Wimbledon Theatre, London, England, the scrawled, childlike writing said. The envelope was creased and worn, as if it had passed through many hands before it got to her. Which it probably had. Someone had obviously made quite an effort to trace the company to where it was now. It was all really strange, but her heart began to thump as she looked at the postmark. Alabama, USA.
The paper stung into her fingers, burning them, and she dropped the envelope onto the floor with a little cry. Monsieur Clément’s head jerked back. Then he stooped to pick up the letter and handed it back into Cissie’s trembling grasp.
‘C-can I have a moment, please?’ she stammered as crucifying horror circled her heart. She’d struggled for so long to try and put it all behind her. But… Could it be that Jane’s father had somehow managed to trace her? Somehow forced the connection out of Saul Williams after all these years? What if – oh, heaven forbid – he’d found out he had a child and wanted to take her? Jane was still being brought up as her sister, but the idea of her being taken away was unbearable.
‘Of course, my little one,’ she heard Monsieur Clément agree at once, his voice low and understanding. ‘I hope it is not bad news.’
Cissie stumbled on unsteady legs back to the bench and lowered herself onto it. The envelope juddered in her hands as she tore it open. A thin sheet of paper was folded inside. Something smaller fell out and fluttered to the floor as her eyes scanned the untidy writing of the letter, the same as on the envelope. Slowly, the words began to take shape and form themselves into some sort of meaning.
Dear Miss Cresswell,
I hope this letter will reach you. I don’t know who you are, but my son has asked me to send the enclosed to you. He says you are very clever and will understand. When he gets out of prison, he says it will be over and he can start his life anew. Because he is a black man, he was given a longer sentence. At least, that is what we believe. But he says it doesn’t matter. Justice will have been done. I don’t know what he means, but I hope you will.
Verity Williams
Cissie stared at the letter, her mind locked in confusion. No, she didn’t understand. Was this Saul Williams’s mother? It must be. But what…?
She bent to pick up the scrap of flimsy paper from the floor. It was a newspaper cutting, small, just two inches square, perhaps, and dated three months earlier. The print was tiny and difficult to see. But she must decipher it. Manslaughter Conviction, the headline read in slightly larger letters. Cissie squinted to make out the rest.
Last week, garage mechanic, Saul Williams, was convicted of the involuntary manslaughter of general store owner, Charles Masters. It appears that when Mr Masters brought his automobile in for servicing at the garage where the convicted man is in employment, Williams failed to adjust the brakes properly. The vehicle later went off the road at a notorious bend while traveling at high speed, it is concluded due to brake failure. Masters was killed instantly in the crash. The automobile was said to be his pride and joy and he never permitted anyone else to drive it. Masters left no family. Williams was sentenced to…
The corner of the cutting had obviously been fingered so much before it was posted that Cissie couldn’t read how many years. Maybe it was three or eight, or something different altogether. She could imagine Saul’s mother agonising over the cutting, mourning the temporary loss of her son. Maybe rocking herself back and forth, a big, black, handsome woman, with a colourful scarf wrapped around her head and tears rolling down her cheeks.
Cissie realised that she, too, was crying as it dawned on her what the truth must be behind the newspaper report. Dear Saul. He was sending her a secret message, wasn’t he? He’d waited all those years to find a way to deal with – what was his name? Cissie didn’t want to remember. But Saul had found a way in the end, to carry out justice himself but without losing his own life in return.
Yes, now she understood. Nobody else in the entire world did. Just her and Saul. That was obviously how he wanted it to be. And she would keep it that way.
Jane’s father was dead. And she’d had nothing to do with it. Nothing to feel guilty about. But he’d got what he deserved, had been punished in the same way the law would have done.
Cissie sat on the bench in the studio that was the centre of her life, letting the shock flow out of her. What had been done to her could not be undone, but knowing the perpetrator was no longer around to do the same to anyone else was a supreme relief. That justice had been carried out without her having to relive it all, face him in court. She’d so often wondered if she’d made the right decision, but it no longer mattered, thanks to Saul.
She checked the envelope and the letter again. No address for her to write back and thank him. Perhaps he knew that was the best way and had guessed that she’d either lost or destroyed the piece of paper he’d given her all those years ago, since she’d never been in touch. And he was right. It was the best way. But they both knew. And that was enough.
Slowly, as Cissie watched Monsieur Clément walking round to speak with each of his dancers in his own inimitable way, making sure all his little flowers were content, a peace she hadn’t felt for seven long years began to trickle into her spirit. She’d wanted for so long to put all the sorry business behind her, but the doubt that she’d made the wrong choice had always persisted at the back of her mind. But now it was over, and she could start to live again.
Thank you, Saul. You have set me free.
‘Is everything all right, Cissie?’ The caring voice of the dear dance master brought her back to the present. To a world that suddenly seemed flooded with light and hope.
‘Yes,’ she said as a wondrous sense of release began to unfold inside her. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. What are we going to rehearse first?’
Monsieur Clément clapped his hands and everyone sprang to their feet. ‘Today we begin something new!’ he announced with a twinkle in his eye.
Something new. Yes. A new future.
Cissie crunched the letter and the newspaper cutting into a ball and went over to deposit them in the waste bin. As she tu
rned back to begin this new adventure, someone else dropped an apple core and a banana skin on top. There. It was history.
*
‘Oh, I love coming here!’ Jane cried, bouncing up and down with excitement. ‘Can I go on the Big Dipper?’
It was a Sunday afternoon in July, and the happy group were sauntering along The Parade in Battersea Park’s Pleasure Gardens. Some of the park was still given over to allotments. Not exactly part of the Dig for Victory campaign since the war had been over for six years, but the idea was the same, to help feed the local population while food supplies were still struggling. Thirty-seven acres of the park, though, had been given over to the Festival of Britain, not the cultural side of the celebration of all good things British – that was on the South Bank area – but the side where people could simply relax and enjoy themselves.
Stan and Ron had gone off to one of the many tearooms and snack bars for a cup of tea, while Eva and Bridie, Mildred and Jake, Cissie, Zac and Jane were continuing to wander around the new attraction. They’d already stopped to watch the Guinness Clock as it chimed each quarter of an hour and the doors would open to reveal the dancing toucans, the Mad Hatter would catch a line of fish, the zookeeper would rise up under his umbrella to ring his bell and the sun’s rays would whirl dizzily over all the proceedings. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen it. While the adults found it amusing, Jane was still enthralled by all the moving components.
‘No, you can’t be going on the Big Dipper,’ Bridie told her. ‘You’re too young. But, sure, isn’t the Peter Pan Railway more the right size for you. Cissie, will you be taking your sister?’
‘Yes, of course. Come on, Jane,’ Cissie beamed, holding out her hand. The child skipped to her side and a warm sense of serenity rippled up Cissie’s arm as their fingers met. She’d felt a calm joy gradually building inside her these last few weeks, ever since she’d received the letter. Jane was all hers now. Half of her didn’t belong to some vile monster across the ocean. And as luck would have it, she was the image of herself and bore no trace of her father. The child was something good and wholesome. To be loved.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Jake offered, and Jane grinned up at him, her free hand grasping one of his. She hopped along between the two adults like a jack-in-the-box as they crossed over to the little railway.
They sat with the child between them as the train trundled along the track. Out of the corner of her eye, Cissie watched Jake with her daughter. He was so good with her. He’d been caught up in the first wave of the new National Service Act and had served abroad for eighteen months. But he’d been back since the previous autumn, returning to further his career at the bank and had built up a strong relationship with young Jane. He was like a big brother to her, and it was something else that Cissie admired in him.
In the six years since Cissie had confessed the truth to Jake, he’d kept his promise. He’d always been there for her, but had never tried to push her into a relationship. Now, as she secretly observed him, Cissie couldn’t help notice his generous mouth stretched in a wide and yet caring grin as he looked down on Jane, his kind eyes dancing, his hair faintly tinted with copper in the summer sunshine. Gone was the lanky lad who despite his youth, had risked his own life to save Jane’s. Instead, here was a grown man with broadened shoulders and strong arms poised to grab hold of Jane if the train jolted too hard. Arms Cissie suddenly yearned to feel around her.
Such a sparkle of pleasure had begun to twinkle in her heart, growing steadily day by day. She’d tried to deny it. Even now she was holding it back. But watching Jake, she could feel it burning into the core of her being. It really was time to let go of the past.
When they came back to where Eva and Bridie were waiting, they found that Zac and Mildred had gone off to enjoy the thrill of the Rotor. They’d been on it before a few weeks ago, and Zac had been so fascinated at being pinned to the rubber wall of the drum with nothing but centrifugal force to hold him there that he’d been going on and on ever since to have another go.
‘What d’you fancy next, Jane?’ Jake asked the little girl. ‘The boating lake, maybe the merry-go-round in the funfair—’
‘What about the Grotto?’ Jane squealed with delight. ‘Some of my friends from school have done that and they say it’s great!’
‘The Grotto it is, then,’ Jake chuckled at her enthusiasm. ‘Coming, Cissie?’
‘Thanks, Jake!’ Jane shouted, running on ahead.
‘We told Milly and Zac we’d go along to the Grand Vista and find somewhere to sit,’ Eva informed Jake as he and Cissie hurried after the child. ‘We’ll wait for you there.’
‘OK, Mum. See you later on,’ Jake called over his shoulder.
The Grotto wasn’t far away, and they soon found themselves passing through the rocky entrance. On the far side, more boulders rose up, with a silvery cascade of gushing water rushing down over them. Off of it led dark caves, each representing one of the four elements.
Inside all was gloomy and mysterious. Jane squeaked with mock fear, but Cissie shuddered involuntarily. There was still that dark place in her heart, and she was glad Jake was beside her. She scarcely realised, but the next moment, she was clinging onto his arm, her body pressed closely against his. She felt him stop still for an instant. He turned, and in the shadows, she could see him smile at her. And then they moved on.
But Cissie didn’t let go. Something she couldn’t explain wrapped itself around her. It was good holding onto Jake. It was as if a tiny, flickering flame inside her was starting to flare out. Something she no longer felt afraid of.
‘Can we go on the Tree Walk next, please?’ Jane begged when they’d emerged back out into the sunlight. ‘Oh, please. Just one last thing?’
Cissie was about to reprimand her, but Jake replied with a chuckle. ‘All right, young lady. But then that’s enough for one day.’
He grinned across at Cissie and winked. Cissie felt a sudden rush of elation. Oh, yes. The Tree Walk. She’d been up there before, among the fluttering leaves. It was a bit like being a bird. There were other things up there to amuse children – a miniature village, a dragon and other beasties – and lots of other people, too, of course, but for Cissie it was the sense of being above the world, away from all troubles and cares, that intrigued and delighted her.
She took Jake’s arm again as they strolled along the elevated walkway. He turned to her with a look of pleasant surprise, a translucent smile glowing in his eyes. It reached down inside her, and she felt her cheeks blush an excited peach.
Suddenly, an all-encompassing euphoria took hold of her. She was free, at last. She could be who she was meant to be. Not just a dancer, but a young woman who was free to do all the things she wanted to. Free to love.
A delicious, astounding wonderment made her turn Jake to her. She put her hands on those strong shoulders and lifted herself on tiptoe so that her lips could reach his. They were warm and moist, sending a glorious shiver down her spine. She felt Jake’s arms come tentatively around her, holding her gently against him as his mouth responded to hers. Just for a few seconds. And Cissie knew her body had been awakened.
‘What have I done to deserve that?’ Jake gulped as they pulled apart.
Cissie looked up at him, entranced, intoxicated. ‘Nothing,’ she smiled. ‘You’ve just been you. All these years. You’ve waited long enough.’
Jake’s sapphire eyes opened wide. And then narrowed. ‘D-d’you mean… there could be some future for us?’
Cissie smiled back at him, almost breathless. This was Jake, who she’d loved for so long. Who she’d missed terribly when he’d been away on his National Service. And now, at last, that black cloud that had hung over her for so long like an executioner’s axe had drifted away. Taking its place was an intense harmony, an overwhelming need. It was a new, utterly wonderful sensation, and her heart soared on invisible wings.
‘Yes, I think so,’ she whispered.
‘We’ll… take it slowly.’
‘Yes.’ And then she suddenly felt she could burst. ‘Oh, Jake, I do love you. I always have. But I’m ready now. And I’m so happy.’
‘Oi, you love birds, move along now. You’re holding us all up,’ a voice interrupted from behind.
Cissie stifled a giggle, and as Jake threw his head back in a joyful laugh, he grabbed her hand.
‘We’d better catch Jane up, anyway,’ he told her as they hurried forward.
‘Yes, I think we better had,’ Cissie agreed. And they had a future to go in search of now, too. A future of peace and happiness, and a love that could be fulfilled.
For now, at last, she was free.
*
‘Oo, that was great, Milly! Can we do it again?’
Mildred rolled her eyes. He was OK, was Zac. Childlike and easy-going, bouncing around her like a blooming overgrown puppy. But she seemed to be getting lumbered with him more and more since… well, since. It was OK sometimes, but she wanted to build up a life of her own and she couldn’t get on with it with him in tow, even if he was so soft. It really could get a bit wearing at times. Just like now.
‘Well, I’m not queuing for another flaming half hour,’ she told Zac firmly. ‘And our mums’ll be waiting for us and wondering where we’ve got to. Let’s go and find them, and then maybe we can get an ice cream.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Zac grinned, instantly pacified. ‘I like ice cream.’
‘Come on, then. Oh, look. There’s the others coming.’
‘D’you think Jane will want an ice cream, too?’
‘I expect so. I don’t see why we can’t all have one. Oh—’
Mildred pulled herself up short. Jane was skipping alongside Jake and Cissie in a little world of her own, head rolling from side to side in time to each bound. It wasn’t that which made Mildred’s mouth drop open. Jake and Cissie were holding hands, dancing along in a flurry of laughter of their own. Then they paused, and blimey O’Reilly, they kissed! Not lengthily, but a bit more than just a peck on the cheek. A few seconds later, they stopped again, and this time – flipping heck – they was really at it, arms round each other, lips clinging like blooming lovers on the big screen!
