Olga - A Daughter's Tale (12 page)

She passes Port Royal and what remains of the buccaneer city that an earthquake sank beneath the ocean hundreds of years ago. Overhead, in a cloudless blue sky, three long-tailed humming birds, so vivid in colour, sweep across the sky in unison and the sight of them takes my breath away.

An omen, perhaps, a sign of good luck, Olga?

******

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Olga’s Diary

“
How did you get here?” Aunt Martha asked me incredulously.

She was still in bed even though it was the middle of the afternoon. If it had been Birdie standing at the bottom of her bed instead of me, the reply would have said something smart like “I just flew in on a broomstick” but I just said lamely,

“
I thought you were expecting me”.

“
Jesus Christ, what day is it”?

“
April 1st” I said, shocked by her blaspheming.

And then she started laughing “Trust you to arrive on April Fool’s Day, Olga”.

I didn’t answer not understanding what she meant but I knew she wasn’t paying me a compliment. I was hungry, cold, tired and this was not the welcome I had been expecting.

For a start Aunt Martha should have met me when the S.S. Jamaica Progress docked this morning in London. The Progress is a cargo boat carrying fruit, mainly bananas, and the Royal Mail, but also has room for a few passengers. On this trip there were 12 of us including me and, of course, my chaperone, Mrs Brodie, a friend of the family, who was going to England for a holiday and whom Sydney had asked to keep an eye on me during the trip.

Did he think I might fall overboard?

Anyway, it never occurred to me that Aunt Martha wouldn’t be there and I was very grateful that Mrs Brodie waited with me a for a while, but eventually she said she had to leave. With a confidence I certainly wasn’t feeling I assured her I would be fine on my own. Just in case Aunt Martha didn’t arrive Mrs. Brodie showed me where there was a taxi rank and, checking I had enough money to pay for it, kissed me goodbye and went on her way. Sitting in the waiting room I felt very homesick.

After waiting for her for nearly three hours I decided to take a taxi to Aunt Martha’s home, 23 Chilworth Street, Paddington. I knew she lived on the third floor of a block of flats because last time she was in Kingston she told us at dinner one evening how Londoners were not very friendly. Aunt Martha likes a drink and one day she was in a pub when a lady sitting a few feet away from her became ill. Aunt Martha offered to take her back to her home and discovered that the woman lived in the flat beneath her in Chilworth Street.

As I struggled up the three flights of concrete steps to Aunt Martha’s flat with two heavy suitcases I thought, Londoners are not only unfriendly, they’re unreliable too.

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Letter to Mammie, Mission House, Kingston

from

Olga, 23 Chilworth Street, London

Dearest Mammie

I couldn’t sleep last night. When I closed my eyes I saw us all on Kingston docks crying. It was hard saying goodbye, wasn’t it, and Mammie you looked so worried. Fancy Pops coming down as well. It was nice you were both there. I don’t remember ever seeing you together before. And wasn’t Sydney thoughtful and kind making sure I had everything I needed. He told me to be sure to ask Aunt Martha if I need anything and he said he’d be coming to London in two or three months, so I would see him them.

Including me and Mrs Brodie, there were only twelve passengers on the boat, two widow ladies, myself and another single young lady and two married couples, three single men, two were students and the third single man was an engineer. We all got on very well together and made up our own entertainment in the evening with little concerts which we all took part in. I was persuaded to sing a few times and got a very nice round of applause each time. The engineer performed some magic tricks, which sometimes went wrong, but we pretended we hadn’t noticed or else we played card games like gin rummy or canasta while the older people played bridge.

As a matter of fact Mammie, I was invited to sit at the Captain’s table four times during the journey; it’s a great honour, you know and I felt very important. The crossing seemed to go quickly and it was very good until we got close to England and then it rained a lot and the sea was a bit rough.

Aunt Martha has a nice little two bedroom flat and, guess what, I have my own bedroom but you probably know that.

On my first morning here, Aunt Martha brought me breakfast in bed and later on took me to Lyons Corner House which is huge and there are restaurants on four levels. On the ground floor level is the food hall where you can buy different things like ham and cheese, pastries and specially made chocolates, wines, tea and, guess what, coffee and fruit from, guess where? ……Jamaica!

And on the floors above are more restaurants with an orchestra playing in each one. Aunt Martha and I went to the tearoom and she ordered afternoon tea which arrived on delicate china plates with some scones, dainty sandwiches and little cakes. I only had a little bit to eat because I thought it was good manners not to eat all the food in front of us. But I was wrong, I should have eaten more, because Aunt Martha finished the whole lot.

All the waitresses wore black and white uniforms and Aunt Martha says their called Nippies, when I asked her why ,she said “because they nip in and out of the tables quickly”. Isn’t that funny? I thought they looked so smart in their uniforms and said to Aunt Martha that I might change my mind about going to Madame Verschaka’s School of Dance and become a Nippie for a few months.

“I don’t think so dear,” she said. “To come all this way from Jamaica and end up as a waitress doesn’t seem such a good idea to me”

Well, at least it’s work, I thought to myself but didn’t say anything. With so many out of work back home I bet lots of people would love a job like that. When the bill came, Aunt Martha said,

“Oh, that’s a bit expensive, but never mind Olga, you’re worth it”. Wasn’t that nice?

The weather has been horrible, cold and wet. One day smog covered the whole of London all day and you could barely see in front of your hand and bus conductors were walking in front of their buses to guide them. I missed Jamaica a lot that day. Aunt Martha says its smoke that comes from factory chimneys and buses. There are signs that Londoners are preparing for war. There are air raid shelters being built and sticky tape is stuck across windows to prevent people being cut by flying glass and splinters when the bombs come. Aunt Martha says it’s difficult to know what to think because one minute the war’s on and the next it’s off.

My favourite place, Mammie, is Regent’s Park Zoo. There are all sorts of animals there, lions, tigers, elephants, monkeys, snakes, beautiful big birds and sweet little birds. Even before I get to the zoo I can hear the lions roaring and the monkeys whooping. I feed the monkeys but you’re not allowed to feed the wilder animals, so I watch the zoo keepers feed the elephants, lions and bears.

And I’ve discovered a beautiful Catholic church called St James in Spanish Place, not far from Aunt Martha but, do you know what, I don’t think she goes to church quite so much in London as she does in Jamaica.

I say my prayers every night Mammie and go to mass on Sundays at St James. It doesn’t feel the same as the Holy Trinity Cathedral but I still like it a lot.

I miss you all. Please write soon.

Your loving daughter
Olga

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Dear Diary

Bad news
: I’m in despair. Madame Verschaka’s School of Dance have written to me.

“
We do not have a place available for six months, at which time we will be delighted to accept you as a pupil.”

That’s no good, I need a place now!

I told Aunt Martha and she said she couldn’t afford to keep me if I was going to remain in London. I don’t know what she means “she can’t afford to keep me” because I know Sydney gave her plenty of money to cover the cost of my stay, but she says there’s hardly any left because food is expensive and I eat a lot.

Well, honestly, I don’t think I do, but I didn’t dare argue with her. Thank goodness Sydney will be here soon, but I suppose I’ll have to go back to Jamaica with him. So far my visit has been disappointing and I haven’t enjoyed myself the way Birdie does when she comes to London.

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Dear Diary

Fed up
: Went to Trafalgar Square yesterday to feed the pigeons, but, I was in and out of that Square like a bullet.

I sat down and as soon as I pulled out my bag of breadcrumbs, pigeons surrounded me and started pecking at my paper bag trying to get the bread out and there were lots of them around my feet picking up the breadcrumbs – it felt like I was being attacked, so I dropped the breadcrumbs and ran.

Now I prefer to sit here on a bench in Regent’s Park and feed the little birds, they’re much gentler. Took my diary with me today so I could read again about my going away party in the Bournemouth Club, Kingston’s best night club.

It was a wonderful night with the club decorated with streamers and balloons and hanging from the ceiling, strung across the middle of the room was a whopping big sign.

“
Goodbye Olga. We’ll miss you”. Wasn’t that nice?

There was a band and lots of food and all my friends and family laughing, joking, hugging and kissing me and giving me going away presents.

But the biggest shock that night came from Michael Sales. Michael was in the same class as me at Alpha Academy and he was a holy terror. His favourite past time was putting a mirror under some of the girls’ skirts, including mine, so he could see what colour knickers we were wearing. He nearly got expelled once for doing it and it was only because his mother pleaded with the Headmistress to give him one more chance, that he wasn’t. Anyway, he must have learnt his lesson because he quietened down a lot and was much nicer because of it. As a matter of fact he went out with one of my best friends, Elise Ferguson, for a while.

But at my going away party he handed me a present with a card. Inside, was a pair of beautiful pearl ear-rings. No doubt about it, that is the nicest present I have ever received.

“
Olga, when you come back, I want you to be my proper girl friend. I promise I will wait for you and I won’t go out with anyone else while you’re away” he said.

I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t think he liked me that much. Boys, don’t really, you know. They like to talk to me about the problems they have with their girl friends because they say I’m a good listener, but they never like me in that special way.

My friend, Carmen Cadoza, has boys buzzing round her like bees in a honey pot and honestly, sometimes she treats the boys like they don’t exist. She says the secret of being successful with men is to play hard to get. Michael was going to be my first boyfriend. I wanted to cry I was so happy, but instead I gave him a little kiss on the cheek and said I would love to be his girlfriend and for a few minutes, I wondered, do I really want to go to England. But I dismissed the thought immediately because it would be something to look forward to when I come home.

On the same page is the holy picture of the Sacred Heart that Father Butler gave me when he came to say goodbye. He’d written on the back:

Dear Olga

Bon voyage and a happy stay in London.

Be a good girl and don’t forget to say your prayers.

God bless you

Reading about that evening and how happy I was then and how miserable I am feeling now made me sad and homesick. I felt lonely sitting on that bench in the park. I was hugging my diary with both hands, my head buried in my chest and gently rocking back and forth and I wasn’t aware someone had sat down beside me.

“
Are you alright”. I heard someone say.

When I looked up I saw a beautiful brown face smiling at me.

“
My name’s Joanne” she said, smiling at me.

My spirits lifted immediately and we started talking. And guess where she came from….Jamaica!! I couldn’t believe it because there aren’t too many Jamaicans in London, I can tell you.

Joanne comes from a big family, just like me, and they live in St Ann’s Bay. We talked about our families and home and even though she’s been in London for two years studying nursing at Paddington General Hospital, Joanne still misses her family a lot.

I said I missed my friends and was lonely and whenever someone sits next to me on the park bench, like the nannies who push the babies in the prams, I always smile and say hello and hope that they will talk to me, but they don’t, they either pretend they haven’t heard me or get up and walk away.

“
Thank goodness for the keepers in the zoo”.

“
They’re friendly and they tell me all about the animals like elephants or the tigers and the bears” I said

“
I like London a lot, but it can be the loneliest place in the world” Joanne told me.

Oh she’s really lovely. I’m so happy we met. Joanne says when she’s a fully qualified nurse then she’s going back to Jamaica to work. When I told her why I had come to London she was surprised and said didn’t my parents realise that England could go to war any day. I said that the Prime Minister had Hitler’s promise not to invade Europe any more, so Mammie and Sydney felt it was safe for me to come over, and, anyway, Sydney would be here soon and I’d be going back to Jamaica with him.