A Girl Can Dream (20 page)

‘Hire purchase?

‘Yeah, you pay so much down as a deposit and then so much a week,’ Terry said. ‘I was too young to do it on my own so Neil’s uncle stood surety for me.’

‘Don’t ever let Dad know that, because it might upset him.’

‘Don’t know why it should, or why you’re so protective of him, Meg, ’cos he ain’t worth your concern,’ Terry said. ‘He seemed to cease being our dad when he met Doris. Tell you the truth,
I nearly didn’t come at all, and then I thought if I didn’t I would be letting you down. It was Neil’s uncle said I had to wear a suit for my own father’s wedding. He’s been good to me, and his wife has. She never usually works in the shop, but she is taking my place today because Saturday is our busiest day.’

‘That’s kind of her,’ Meg said. ‘But I’m so glad that you made the effort to come. It would not have been the same without you and I need all the support I can get.’

There was a shout that the bride was on her way and Meg gave a sigh as she said to Terry, ‘See you later.’

Despite herself, Meg had to agree that Doris looked gorgeous. She had spent hours in the beauty parlour that morning and her face was carefully made up so it accentuated all her good points. Her eyes looked smokier and more mysterious than ever and her lashes were the longest Meg had ever seen. Her eyebrows were perfect crescents above her eyes. Her face was so smooth, and rouge and lipstick had been delicately applied. Her hair wasn’t caught up totally as it usually was, but held in soft waves that framed her face. Doris looked the picture of loveliness, and in the beautiful dress that showed off her fabulous figure to perfection she looked much younger than thirty-five, the age she had admitted to.

For the first time Meg saw what had attracted her father. Charlie was looking at her walk down the aisle towards him with such obvious love that Meg felt quite hurt. Even in her wedding dress Doris was a sexual and sensual woman and Meg knew that Rose had been right: her father was enthralled by Doris in a way he had never been with her mother, for he needed and wanted her in a purely sexual way. As long as she continued to satisfy, his life with Maeve would recede into the background more and more and, because Doris would want it that way, eventually so would the children. That realisation depressed her totally.

And yet, despite her father’s so obvious devotion, the wedding service lacked that vital spark, the feeling that this was love to last a lifetime. There was a sort of stiffness about the whole thing that was uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that when the priest asked if anyone knew of any reason why these two people should not enter into holy matrimony they should
speak now or forever hold their peace
. Meg found herself holding her breath. She wouldn’t have been that surprised if someone had spoken out to stop this fiasco. She wanted to speak out herself, but what could she say apart from that she felt the marriage wasn’t right? She just wanted the whole Nuptial Mass to be over as quickly as possible.

Later, in the back room of the Swan pub, the children behaved impeccably, even Terry, and Meg was gladdened that Doris seemed fine with them, even pleasant. Meg felt the worry that she had at leaving them ease a little. She thought Doris, maybe because of circumstances, was a rather cold woman, but as long as she was kind, the children could cope with all that and she did seem to be making an effort with them.

Still, Meg found the whole thing a strain and she saw her Aunt Rosie’s and even her Aunt Susan’s eyes on her often and full of sympathy. She wondered what they would feel when she told them about joining the Land Army, which she would do today if the opportunity arose. And so a little later, when Meg saw her aunts stepping outside for a breath of air, she joined them and without any lead in told them what she intended to do.

‘Oh, my dear,’ Aunt Rosie said, ‘I don’t blame you in the slightest. You will be sorely needed when war is declared and farm labourers are called up. But what will the children do without you?’

‘Well, Doris and Dad will look after them, and they are down to be evacuated anyway so won’t have time to miss me.’ Meg said.

‘Don’t you think that it’s harsh to send children off like that?’ Rosie said.

Meg nodded. ‘It’s a really difficult choice,’ she said. ‘But if war comes – and that seems inevitable now – and is fought in the air, as everyone says with bombs raining down on us, however painful a decision it is, it may be better to send the children away from the cities to places where it’s safer for them.’

‘I suppose so,’ Rosie said doubtfully.

‘I think it will still be an incredibly difficult for all the mothers and fathers,’ Meg acknowledged. ‘I will miss all the children like crazy if they go before I do.’

‘Yes,’ said Susan. ‘Thinking you’re doing the best for them is the only way to handle evacuation, I think.’

‘I suppose that’s the way to look at it,’ Rosie said. ‘I think this war will be like no other, with civilians in the front line as much as the soldiers.’

‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘And after it, the world will never be the same again.’

On Sunday afternoon Charlie and Doris left for Blackpool on a brief honeymoon and when Monday morning dawned bright and clear Meg, wanting a lasting memory to leave with the children, decided to take a big picnic to Cannon Hill Park. It was a fair hike, but they were in no hurry. They set off in high spirits, Billy carrying Terry’s ball, which he’d left for Billy when he’d moved out, and the two girls cavorting beside her like the children they still were.

Meg’s high spirits fell a little when she saw the men digging big trenches around the park, though she’d read in the newspaper what they were going to do. But to see it made it more real somehow.

‘What are they doing?’ Billy asked.

‘What’s it look like?’ Sally snapped. ‘Stupid.’

Jenny said nothing, but her troubled eyes met Meg’s over the heads of the squabbling children as Billy cried, ‘I ain’t stupid.’

‘You must be if you don’t know a man digging when you see one.’

Meg knew that Jenny, at eleven, probably had a pretty good idea what those trenches might be used for, and she read the trepidation in her eyes.

‘Well, what are they digging for then?’ Billy asked Sally.

‘How should I know?’

‘Thought you knew everything,’ Billy sneered. ‘Little Miss Know-All.’

‘Meg, tell our Billy,’ Sally cried, bringing Meg’s attention back to her, and she chided, ‘I don’t know, I take you for a nice day out and you two start arguing before we’ve even got there.’

‘It’s him,’ said Sally.

‘No it ain’t,’ Billy maintained.

‘I don’t want to hear whose fault it is,’ Meg snapped. ‘Personally I think it’s both of you, and for two pins I will turn round this minute and take you home, depriving Jenny of a day out too. Is that what you want?’

Dolefully both children shook their head. ‘Sorry, Meg,’ said Sally.

‘Yeah, sorry,’ Billy said.

‘But why
are
the men digging those holes?’

‘Well, now,’ Meg said, choosing her words carefully. ‘There’s pipes for all sorts of things underground, so maybe they’re doing repairs on them.’

‘Maybe,’ Sally conceded.

But Billy said, ‘Don’t think it’s that. They just seem to be digging.’

Meg decided diversionary tactics had to be brought into play. ‘Whatever the men are doing, it’s nothing to do with us, so it’s better if we let them get on with it. And the question I want to ask you, young Billy, is, have you brought that ball to the park to cuddle it all day, or are you going to kick it, since there’s two lads watching that I’d say would love a game?’

The distraction worked and Billy tore across the grass with Sally pounding after him. As Jenny watched them disappear, she said, ‘Good move, and now let’s go across to the playground. When more boys come to join Billy, as they surely will, Sally will be surplus to requirements and she’ll come to find us.’

Jenny was right and soon Sally had left the male-dominated game, her pique immediately forgotten in the delights of the playground swings, roundabout and slide. When they were played out, Meg spread the blanket slightly away from the playground on an incline overlooking the lake, sparkling and glittering in the sun, watching the ducks weaving their way between the rowing boats.

Some children were paddling on the edge and Meg couldn’t blame them, for her clothes were sticking to her and she’d not been running about like they had, so she wasn’t a bit surprised when Billy and Sally started clamouring to paddle as well.

‘Eat first,’ Meg said firmly. ‘Then we’ll see.’

The children polished off the jam and the cheese sandwiches and the bottles of cold tea in double-quick time, and then, Sally’s dress tucked into her knickers, the two were off. Eventually even Jenny went to cool her feet and Meg lay back on the blanket, feeling suddenly drowsy herself, and closed her eyes. When she awoke she was disorientated for a moment or two and she knew they would have to set off for home soon.

But not yet, she thought as she sat up and surveyed the scene before her. It all seemed so happy and peaceful, the buzzing of the bees in the nearby flowers and the laughter and sometimes squeals of the children splashing in the water the only sounds. It seemed inconceivable that this country would soon be at war. That German planes might fly in that cloudless sky and drop bombs to kill and maim and destroy like they had done in Guernica. A sudden shudder ran all through her body.

‘What’s up?’ Jenny asked, approaching at that moment. ‘Someone walk over your grave?’

‘Something like that,’ Meg said. ‘Better start tidying away. We’ll have to set off for home soon because it’s a tidy step back.’

‘Been a brilliant day, though, hasn’t it?’ Jenny said

‘It has, Jenny,’ Meg said. ‘A truly brilliant day.’

Meg was even more glad of the great day she had enjoyed with her brother and sisters when she saw the official letter waiting for her on the mat when she got up the following morning. She slipped it into her pocket to read later when she went out to use the lavatory. She had looked forward to the letter coming, but holding it in her hand made it suddenly very real and her mind churned with differing emotions. When she read that she had been accepted for the Land Army she felt exhilaration flow through her, though it was threaded through with slight trepidation and sadness, for getting away from Doris meant that she would hardly see her siblings, and that was very hard because she had been a little mother to them all since Maeve died.

She expected her father and Doris back that evening and decided that she would tell the rest of the family her news after dinner. So after breakfast she set off for the Bull Ring to see if she could buy maybe a bit of rabbit to make a nice meal for them all. She also wanted to buy a case or something to put her clothes in; although uniform would be supplied, she didn’t know if it would be given straight away.

She wished she could tell Kate Carmichael that she had done as she’d suggested, but now that the holidays had started she wouldn’t know where to find her. She had let slip one day that she didn’t live at home but in a small flat in Edgbaston. That in itself was fast enough for girls and young women of Kate Carmichael’s class, who usually stayed at home until they married, but then Meg reminded herself that Miss Carmichael didn’t seem to have a lot of time for marriage.

Then, as she passed Bow Street, the small road off Bristol Street where the school was, she was hailed, and there, coming down the road away from the school, was Kate Carmichael.

‘Oh, I am pleased to see you,’ Meg burst out. ‘I have done what you said and joined the Land Army. I wanted to tell you before I left but I don’t know where you live.’

‘No point telling you now,’ Kate Carmichael said. ‘I am leaving my flat in the next few days. Where are you heading for?’

‘The Bull Ring,’ said Meg.

‘And so am I,’ Kate said. ‘So we’ll go together.’ As they walked a little way down the road, Kate said, ‘Are you looking for anything special?’

‘Mmm, sort of,’ Meg said. ‘See, Dad and Doris are coming back from their honeymoon today.’

‘Where did they go?’

‘Blackpool.’

‘Well,’ said Kate, glancing up at the cloudless, cornflower-blue sky and the warm golden sun lighting all before it, ‘they’ve probably had good weather and that’s not something that can usually be said of Blackpool.’

Meg agreed. ‘I want to see if I can get a bit of rabbit or something to make them a nice meal, sort of buttering Dad and the kids up because they don’t yet know that I’ll be leaving.’

‘You said your dad and the children—’

‘Doris already knows.’

‘And your father doesn’t?’

‘No.’ Meg saw the arch of Kate’s eyebrows and she said, ‘It wasn’t that I was being mean. I was thinking of Dad. He won’t like the thought of me leaving home, so I didn’t want to broach the subject before his wedding and honeymoon. But however he behaves when I tell him, upset or angry, Doris will soon convince him it’s for the best. She’s very good at that, and when I also assure him it’s what I want to do, he’ll be fine. He’ll have to be fine. I’m in now and can’t change my mind because my father doesn’t like the sound of it.’

‘I still don’t see why you told Doris.’

‘I’m underage,’ Meg said. ‘Doris wasn’t exactly Mrs Hallett when she signed, but they’ll hardly check that. Everyone says this blessed war will be declared any day and then everyone really will have to play their part, whatever it is. That is, if we have any chance of winning.’

‘Well, losing is not on the cards,’ Kate said.

‘No indeed,’ Meg said. ‘Now it’s your turn. You know all my news, now tell me yours – like, why are you giving up your flat? Where are you off to?’

‘Goodness knows,’ said Kate. And then at Meg’s bewildered look, she went on, ‘Like I told you before, I am going with the children being evacuated, so I’m going down to the area they have been allocated to check that there are enough homes for the children and to arrange how the school there is going to cope with so many extra.’

‘So you do know where they are going?’

Kate shook her head. ‘Not yet. I suppose I’ll be told eventually. The important thing is that everything is in place for them. Richard Flatterly is coming with me.’