The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow (21 page)

‘Do you fancy a wee stroll, Ann?’ Kathleen asked, an innocent look in her eyes. ‘You don’t mind if we go for a walk, do you, Mum?’

Kit shook her head and joined in with the conversation with Granny and Ma.

Outside in the street, Kathleen took my arm and fairly propelled me along the street, casting glances behind her as we went.

By now I was really alarmed. ‘What’s the matter Kathleen? What’s happened?’

‘I’ll tell you if you’ll keep it a secret,’ she whispered.

‘Oh, Kathleen, it all depends what it is,’ I said – I didn’t want to make a promise I maybe couldn’t keep.

‘Och, it doesn’t matter about secrecy. I’m so happy I don’t care who knows it. Chris is leaving after his leave and he met me in the park. We just chatted while Kitty played on the swings but he wants to take me for a drive in the country tomorrow. We can’t go far because of the petrol shortage but he thought we could have a meal somewhere. He keeps the car in his dad’s garage and gets the train back. That way he keeps some petrol in it. He says it’s for taking me out. It’s so romantic.’

My worries for her well-being returned with a vengeance. I tried to choose my words carefully and tried to think what Danny would say to her if he was here instead of me. ‘Does Chris knows you’re still married?’

She nodded. ‘Obviously his dad told him about my situation when he gave me the job but I told him about Sammy right from the beginning and I also told him I’m not going back to him when this war’s over.’

‘What if you’ve no choice Kathleen? What does the Catholic Church say about divorce?’

She gave me a direct look again. ‘I don’t care. I only know I’m never going back to Sammy. And I tell you something else, Ann. In one way, I wish this war was over for Danny’s sake but, in another way, I just wish Sammy would stay out of my life forever.’

I was shocked but tried not to show it. ‘Why on earth did you marry him, Kathleen, if you feel like this?’

‘I didn’t want Kitty growing up without a father and I didn’t feel like this at the time. I really thought I loved him and that we would be happy for the rest of our days. I’ll tell you something, Ann. Do you mind before he went away to the war and he gave me that beating?’

I nodded, remembering all too clearly the day it happened – the day Danny and I found her and the baby in the little dark one-roomed house that had been their home. I recalled also how furious Danny had been and how, if he had found Sammy, he would have tackled him and given him some of his own medicine.

‘Well, that wasn’t the first time he’d hit me. He used to punch me every day but he made sure he didn’t hit my face. He told me nobody would believe me. Then, to make matters worse, on the day you and Danny found me, he made it crystal clear that this was going to be my life from now on.’ She turned her anguished face to me. ‘That’s what’s waiting for me when he comes back. That and the fact he’s planning a half dozen kids to knock the spirit out of me – his words, not mine.’

I put my arms around her. ‘Oh, Kathleen, that’s terrible. I’ve always thought you should make a new life for yourself and now you’ve just reinforced that idea in my mind. And I think Danny would say the same thing.’

She gave me a grateful look and we walked back towards the house. But, before reaching the door, I took her arm and said, ‘Just be careful, Kathleen. Please.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll try to be but I’m so happy that I don’t care one way or the other. I’m enjoying my life.’

As answers went, it didn’t do a lot to calm my fears for her safety but I knew there was nothing I could do or say that hadn’t been said or done before.

Granny was putting her coat on when we arrived back and Kit was chatting to her. Ma Ryan was sitting alone by the fireplace and I went over to say goodbye to her.

Her dark eyes seemed to bore into mine. ‘Mind what I told you, Ann. Watch your step. You’re in great danger.’

I was speechless. Surely my near accident on tramcar stairs was what her warning was about but it now seemed as if I still had to watch my step.

She took my hand. ‘Mind, now, mind what I said.’

There was one thing I couldn’t understand. There was Kathleen with all her problems and Ma was busy warning me.

‘What about Kathleen, Ma? I’m worried about her. Will she be all right?’

She seemed to give this some thought but, when she spoke, her eyes didn’t meet mine. ‘Ah, Kathleen …’

I waited for the rest of the statement but that was all she said. Her face resumed the inscrutable look that I recognised and I realised I would get nothing more from her.

Granny was full of the gossip as we made our way back home. ‘That was a great afternoon, Ann. I fair enjoyed myself with Ma and Kit. Did you enjoy yourself Lily?’

Lily nodded. ‘I just wish I could hear all the grown-up talk though. I aye seem to end up with Kitty.’ She pulled herself up to her full five foot two inches. ‘I am grown-up now, Ann.’

With a shock, I realised she was.

My mind was full of thoughts of Kathleen and Chris. I knew they would only have a short time together while Kitty was at school but that didn’t settle my mind.

Still, I had my own problems with working, shopping and doing Granny’s chores. I also did her shopping and washing which took up quite a lot of time but most women had this problem. The queues at the shops seemed to grow longer with each passing day and we all lived in hope of the war ending soon.

Then, in December, Joe arrived at the shop full of woe. ‘I see the Jerries have surrounded the Allies at Ardennes. Their armies have taken the same route that they used in 1940 and I only hope they don’t cause another Dunkirk.’

Connie and I were worried. She said, ‘Surely the war will be over soon, Joe. I mean the Allies are in Europe and the German Army will be defeated.’

Joe seemed unsure. ‘Well, Connie, we were in Europe in 1940 and look what happened there. The Jerries are sly buggers. They have this pincer movement and they come round and behind the Allies’ front lines.’

I suddenly thought of Kathleen. Would this setback please her? The fact that Sammy would still be a prisoner of war? No, I thought, it wouldn’t please her – not with Danny being in the same boat.

Then, one day, she appeared out of the blue at the shop.

Connie hadn’t seen a lot of her but she was also enchanted by her loveliness. ‘That’s a braw-looking lassie,’ she said later.

Kathleen hoped I was nearly finished at work and I was – just finishing off a few small last-minute jobs. Afterwards, we walked down the Hilltown, her arm through mine.

‘Oh, I’ve got to tell someone about my day out with Chris. I’m almost bursting at the memory of it!’ she said, her red hair streaming out behind her as she turned her head and her eyes glowing.

It seemed I was to be her confidante. ‘How did it go Kathleen?’

She squeezed my arm. ‘Oh, Ann, it was wonderful. We went for a wee run up the coast road – not too far because of the petrol. Because we weren’t sure about getting a meal somewhere, we took a picnic and ate it in a lovely sandy cove overlooking the sea. It was so romantic.’

I was pleased for her and she seemed to glow with health and beauty. She was like the sun beside my pale and dismal moon.

‘Is he away back to London?’

‘Aye, he is. He’s got a small flat on the outskirts of London but he was saying that the city has been terribly damaged by bombs dropped during the Blitz and also the buzz bombs. And it’s not just London but lots of other cities as well. He was saying we’re lucky in Dundee not to have been bombed as well.’

‘Is he employed by Pathé News, Kathleen?’

She shook her head. ‘He works for them but he’s a freelance photographer. He takes loads of pictures and sells them. And he’s had photos in the
Picture Post
. He was saying, when the war is over, he’s going to take a picture of me for the
Picture Post
.’

I was impressed. The
Picture Post
was one of my favourite papers and I had no doubt in my mind that Kathleen would make a stunning model. I told her so.

‘Of course,’ she said wistfully, ‘it’ll be after this war is over – whenever that’ll be.’

I left her at the tram stop. ‘I must get back and pick Kitty up from the school. I’m just working part-time for Mr Portland at the moment but hopefully I’ll get back to full-time soon – when the war is over.’

But, by Christmas, the Battle of the Bulge, as it was called, was still raging on and we all wondered what lay in store. The optimism that had sprung up on D-Day was still evident but it was slowly eroding as time went by. With the never-ending queues for food and other essential things, the euphoric mood was beginning to evaporate like an ice field on the equator.

Meanwhile, Rosie, Maddie and Minnie all tried to put on a brave face for their children’s sake at Christmas.

Joy, who was at the High School, invited Lily over during the school holidays. They sat for ages discussing their futures. ‘We can go to art school in Glasgow, Lily, and be famous artists,’ said Joy matter-of-factly.

Lily, her eyes bright with enthusiasm, agreed. ‘Oh, aye. We’ll be the best artists that there’s been for years and years.’

One dark spot during this time was Hattie’s relationship with Graham. I couldn’t help but compare this Christmas to the one last year – the one when Hattie, her face flushed and with a bright-eyed look, had confided in me her hopes of a proposal from Graham. What had gone wrong? I wondered. But Hattie had made it quite clear that nothing else was to be said on the subject. Then it turned out that Graham was to be absent this Christmas.

I had debated about telling the family about Greg, wondering when the right moment would come. Perhaps it was cowardice on my part that I hadn’t mentioned it earlier but, before Christmas, I decided to come clean on my engagement. Granny and Lily were together when I spoke. ‘I have to tell you both that Greg and I are no longer engaged. In fact, he’ll be married to someone else by now but he didn’t mention the date so I’m not sure what the situation is.’

Granny was shocked and Lily burst into tears.

‘It’s all right, Lily – these things happen when couples are apart and we’re all living in strange times,’ I said as I tried to comfort her, adding that I hoped we all had a merry Christmas.

I was kicking myself for choosing this moment to be the bad news messenger but I didn’t want another year to end with this hanging over me. It was just too difficult, what with the family asking me all the news from him and with me having to fob them off with vague platitudes.

Hattie spent Christmas Day with Granny, Lily and me, only leaving for home when Bella arrived in the evening. I didn’t tell Hattie my news as she seemed preoccupied with her own personal cloud and I also said nothing to Bella – I didn’t feel strong enough to share my abandonment with half the community. No doubt the news would leak out as all bad news eventually did but, until then, I wanted to keep it within the close family and Connie and Maddie. I planned to tell Connie the following day and Maddie the next time I saw her.

Granny had asked after Graham but Hattie had been terse, merely saying that he had business in Clydebank. They were, however, going to a dance at the Queen’s Hotel on Boxing Day, she said, fingering the gold brooch which had been a gift from him.

Why, I asked myself, was she so lacklustre? Her hand kept straying to her lovely brooch but I felt her mind wasn’t on this costly gift but somewhere far away. Still, if she didn’t want to confide in me, there was nothing I could do for her – except to say a silent prayer that all would turn out well for them both.

What a worrying world it was where fears for the future mingled with all the domestic problems. I thought about Kathleen and Kitty and then there was Maddie, Minnie and their boys plus Dad, Rosie and Jay and Granny and Lily. What would become of us all? I tried so hard to shift this jumble of emotions from my mind but it wasn’t easy. Then I remembered the sightings of Margot. Thankfully I hadn’t seen her again so maybe she had moved away again. I hoped for Rosie’s sake that she had.

For some reason Connie wasn’t taken aback by my announcement. This didn’t surprise me as she seemed to read everyone like a book. ‘I knew there was something up,’ she said. ‘But I’m still so very sorry about it all. You didn’t deserve this, Ann.’

When I asked her how she guessed, she said, ‘You stopped speaking about him. Before it was all “Greg said this” or “Greg did that”, then suddenly his name never passed your lips.’

How wise she was, I thought. Not much escaped her sharp eyes or keen ears.

Then, just before Hogmanay, Sylvia, Edith and Amy appeared in the shop for their cigarettes and sweeties. Edith got her sweeties but the other two girls were disappointed because Connie had no cigarettes in the shop.

Sylvia and Amy were desperate. ‘Will there be another shop on the Hilltown with cigarettes, Connie?’ Amy asked.

Connie shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, Amy, but you can aye ask.’

They turned to me. ‘We’re going to the Locarno Dance Hall tonight, Ann. Do you want to join us?’

Before I could say no, Connie butted in. ‘What a great idea, Ann! That’ll be a night out for you. I used to love the dancing in my young days.’

Sylvia said, ‘That’s fine then, Ann. We’ll pick you up at the Overgate, at your granny’s house, and we’ll head for a bit of fun in this awful cigarette-less world.’

All day, I thought of some excuse I could give them when they arrived but Granny didn’t help by echoing Connie’s sentiment. ‘It’ll do you a world of good to have a night out. I’ll look after Lily for you.’

So I had no choice but to get dressed in my best frock which was a flower-sprigged cotton summer creation. I was a bit cold for wearing this thin dress but I planned to wear my thick tweed coat and woollen scarf.

The girls arrived a few minutes later and they chatted to Granny. Amy said, ‘We sometimes go the Progie on a Saturday night but there’s no dancing there this week.’

I was thankful for small mercies. The Progress Hall on the Hilltown was actually a church hall I thought but dances were held there on a Saturday. I had never been inside so perhaps I shouldn’t act like some critic but, on one occasion, when I had been passing, a very drunk man, with a cap on his head and a
Sporting Post
newspaper in his back pocket, had staggered out in front of me. He tried to dance with me and, when I backed away, he proceeded to dance with himself, prancing up and down the pavement and swaying in between people who were out for a walk or heading to the chip shop. It had been very funny at the time but I didn’t relish the thought of being cooped up with a crowd of like-minded dancers.