A Distant Dream (24 page)

‘Here we go again,’ said May, putting on her coat and collecting her gas mask and all the other essentials that went with them to the shelter.

When the siren was heard in the pub, some people left in a hurry; others stayed and carried on talking and drinking as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Dick and Doug were in the latter category, deciding to go to the shelter later if the bombing got too close.

‘I admit that I couldn’t decide what to make of you when May first brought you home,’ Dick was saying, the two of them standing at the bar with their beer. ‘But now that I’ve got to know you better, I’m as pleased as Punch to be having you as a son-in-law. With a bit of luck, you and I will have a good few nights out in the pub like this. It will be nice for me to have some male company in the family.’

‘I’m glad you’re pleased,’ said Doug, on his second pint and feeling nicely relaxed.

‘I’m outnumbered by two to one at the moment,’ said Dick with mock disapproval.

‘Glad to be making things a bit more equal for you,’ Doug responded.

‘Of course if we hadn’t lost Geoffrey,’ said Dick, becoming melancholy as the beer took effect, ‘he’d have been grown up by now, so we would have been mates.’

‘Yeah, that was very sad,’ said Doug sympathetically.

‘That’s probably why the missus and I dote on May so much,’ Dick went on chattily. ‘Not that we didn’t before, you understand, but when you’ve lost a child . . .’

‘Of course. I understand.’

‘Anyway, here we are, you and I, out having a drink together, as matey as can be,’ Dick went on. ‘But if you step out of line with my daughter, then you’ll soon find out that I’m not such a nice bloke after all.’

‘You won’t have any cause for complaint with me,’ said Doug, just about making himself heard above the noise outside; bangs, crashes and the reassuring rattle of anti-aircraft guns. ‘I won’t do anything to hurt May, I promise. But right now I think we should head for the shelter. It’s getting a bit naughty out there.’

‘Yeah, you’re right,’ the other man agreed, emptying his glass with a few swift swallows.

On their way to the door there was an almighty crash and the building crumbled around them. Ears ringing from the blast, Doug watched in horror as his future father-in-law disappeared beneath the rubble.

There was dust and smoke everywhere and people screaming and crying. The smoke made it impossible for Doug to see more than a few feet around him but he knew roughly the spot where Dick had been buried.

‘It’s all right, Dick,’ he shouted. ‘I’ll get you out of there. Hang on, I’m coming.’

But as he tried to move, he was rooted to the spot. Fear had him in its grip and he was paralysed. This was the most shameful moment of his life. A man he was about to be related to was in terrible danger and he was powerless to do a thing to help him. Now Doug really knew what cowardice felt like.

‘Where has your father got to, I wonder?’ said Flo later that evening. There’d been a lull in the bombing and she and May were back in the house. ‘Even if they had stayed until closing time he should be back by now.’

‘They’ve probably taken shelter somewhere and are waiting until things quieten down before they head for home,’ suggested May, hoping to ease her mother’s fears.

‘But things quietened down a while ago,’ her mother pointed out.

‘Mm, well they probably got talking, the way people do when they’ve had a few drinks.’

‘Your father has no business doing that and having me worried half to death.’

‘He’ll be here in a minute,’ said May hopefully.

Just then they heard the key turn in the lock. ‘Thank Gawd for that,’ said Flo with relief.

When the living room door opened, both women gasped as Dick came in, ashen faced, his head swathed in bandages, one arm in a sling.

‘Oh my Lord,’ said Flo, half crying as she went over to him. ‘Come and sit down. Are you badly hurt?’

Together, Flo and May helped the quivering man into an armchair. It took a while before he was able to speak. ‘The pub took a hit and I got buried underneath the rubble. I thought my end had come,’ he told them shakily, ‘But Doug got me out; he crawled in and rescued me. The emergency services took a while to get there because they’d had so many calls in the area. What a hero! I owe my life to him.’

‘Is he all right, Dad?’ asked May.

Her father stared at the floor.

‘Dick,’ put in Flo quickly. ‘What’s happened to Doug? Is he hurt?’

Panic stricken, May said in a fast staccato tone, ‘Dad, what’s happened to him? For God’s sake, tell me.’

‘Sorry, love . . .’ Dick bowed his head, his shoulders trembling, tears streaming down his face.

‘What . . . You don’t mean . . . He can’t be . . .’

‘He got me out and the whole lot crashed down on him; he didn’t stand a chance. The rescue people did what they could but he was killed instantly. They reckon he wouldn’t have suffered,’ said Dick, his voice breaking. ‘If it wasn’t for me he’d be alive now. It should have been me. Not him. At least I’ve had a good few more years.’

‘That sort of talk won’t help,’ said Flo.

‘I’m very sorry, May,’ said her father thickly. ‘I shall regret what happened for the rest of my life.’

‘Don’t be silly, Dick,’ said his wife. ‘That isn’t the way to look at it at all.’

‘No, it isn’t.’ May was so numb with shock, the awful news hadn’t registered properly, but she could vaguely comprehend that her father was suffering. ‘Doug would have loved the idea that he died a hero,’ she said through parched lips. ‘He hated the fact that he couldn’t join the services and do his bit.’

‘He’s done his bit good and proper now all right; did more than his bit for us,’ said Flo.

The wail of the siren filled the room. ‘I’ll take my chances in the house for this one, if you don’t mind,’ said May as her parents prepared to leave. ‘I can’t face the shelter, not now. I’ll come down later if it gets too bad.’

Her parents looked worried but she saw them exchange glances and knew they wouldn’t insist. Flo came over and put her arms around her. ‘I’m so sorry, love,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘I know it won’t be much comfort for you, but me and your dad will do what we can to help.’

‘I know you will, Mum,’ she said. ‘I know you will.’

Breaking all the rules of safety and common sense, May went upstairs and got into bed, fully dressed, pulling the covers over her head while planes roared overhead and bombs fell. So instead of getting married tomorrow she would have a funeral to attend instead. She would need to let Doug’s parents know; they were his next of kin. She never did get to reach that status.

It seemed unreal. Then she thought of Doug, that poor troubled man, dying in that bombed building without her by his side, and she wept, oblivious to the noise or the danger all around her.

Doug’s mother was a pleasant, softly spoken woman with a nervous smile and a look of defeat about her, his father was tall and white haired with a booming voice which he used unrestrainedly. They had arranged for the funeral to take place in Richmond because that was where Doug had lived.

At the wake after the burial, which was held in a private room in a local pub, Mrs Sands told May how sorry she was that they had met in such sad circumstances, but that she was very glad Doug had found someone to love him.

‘Unfortunately our son was not an easy person to get along with,’ interrupted her husband loudly.

‘He must have got along with May, dear,’ his wife pointed out bravely. ‘Or she wouldn’t have agreed to marry him.’

‘Moodiness makes you bad company,’ put in Mr Sands as though his wife hadn’t spoken. ‘I was always telling him about it when he was growing up.’

‘You do know that your son died saving my father’s life, don’t you?’ said May, fiercely defensive of Doug because Mr Sands seemed to be so critical.

‘Yes, I am well aware of that, and very courageous it was too,’ he confirmed. ‘I was not suggesting that my son wasn’t a good man; just not an easy one.’

‘So you must be very proud of him for his bravery,’ said May pointedly.

‘Yes, yes, of course. I was always proud of him. He didn’t have to get himself killed to prove what a decent chap he was.’

‘You could have tried showing your pride in him when he was alive,’ said Mrs Sands, close to tears. ‘Maybe we might have seen more of him if you had.’

Now May understood why Doug had gone to see his parents so rarely and hadn’t seemed keen for her to meet them. No one in their right mind would want to spend time with his father.

‘The train service has been all over the place because of the war, and you know how time flies by,’ she said. She felt rather sorry for Mrs Sands and wanted to give her some sort of comfort. ‘Doug probably meant to come to see you more often but just didn’t get around to it.’

‘Yes, I expect that was it,’ said Mrs Sands unconvincingly, probably finding it easier to agree because she didn’t want a full-blown quarrel with her husband at her son’s funeral. She sighed. ‘Anyway, it makes no difference now, does it?’

Seeing how desperately sad the other woman was, May instinctively gave her a hug.

‘Thank you for that little show of affection, my dear,’ said Mrs Sands as May drew back. ‘I’m sure I would have very much enjoyed having you as my daughter-in-law.’

May’s pain was hardly bearable at this reminder of how much she had lost. ‘Likewise, Mrs Sands,’ she said thickly.

When May received a letter from a firm of solicitors in Richmond, a few days after the funeral, asking her to call at their office at her earliest opportunity, she was rather apprehensive. Solicitors didn’t normally feature in her life. But she did as they asked on her afternoon off.

‘
Sands Nest
?’ she said, astounded, when the bespectacled man sitting behind the leather-topped desk had finished telling her the reason why she had been summoned. ‘Are you saying that Doug has left me his boat?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘But that was his most treasured possession, and his biggest asset,’ she said.

‘He must have held you in very high regard.’

‘I can’t believe it.’

The man nodded but didn’t seem to want to engage in any further discussion. Instead he moved on briskly, explaining certain relevant legalities. ‘Here are all the necessary papers to prove your ownership, and the keys,’ he said eventually, pushing a large envelope across the desk along with a form. ‘If you could just sign as proof of receipt, please. Any queries, feel free to contact me. Otherwise I hope you enjoy your inheritance.’

‘Thank you,’ she said numbly, writing her signature. Then, clutching the envelope, she walked out of the office into the cold November day.

‘That will be worth a good few quid,’ announced her father over their evening meal . ‘A motor boat in good condition. Oh yes, that will fetch a pretty penny, though you’d do well to wait until after the war before you put it up for sale.’

May looked at him in astonishment. ‘How can you even suggest that I sell it, Dad?’ she asked emotionally.

‘Well I didn’t think you’d want to live on it or take up boating,’ he said drily.

‘I don’t, but that isn’t the point,’ she told him. ‘It was Doug’s most prized possession and he chose to leave it to me.’

‘Which shows how much he thought of you,’ Dick said. ‘He was looking after you, making sure you had a few quid. If he’d died a day later you would have got everything else as well, as his wife.’

‘That’s a terrible thing to say, Dad.’ She was shocked at what seemed such a callous attitude. ‘As if I would look at it in material terms.’

‘It is a bit insensitive, Dick,’ chided Flo.

‘I’m sorry to have upset you, May.’ Her father wasn’t an unfeeling man, just a bit tactless. Having experienced poverty at first hand, he couldn’t help thinking in financial terms when potential presented itself. ‘Just forget that I said anything and enjoy your inheritance.’

That didn’t go down well either. ‘Enjoy something that has come into my possession because the man I was about to marry has died?’ she said incredulously. ‘Of course I won’t enjoy it.’

Flo tutted, shaking her head and glaring at her husband. ‘Dick, honestly, you can be so thoughtless at times. Can’t you see how upset she is?’

‘I’m upset too, we’re all upset,’ he objected. ‘All I said was enjoy your—’

‘Well keep your trap shut in future.’ Flo turned her attention to her daughter, who seemed about to rush from the room in floods of tears without finishing her portion of shepherd’s pie. ‘And don’t you even think about leaving one morsel of that meal, my girl. It’s got a large part of this week’s meat ration in it. It’s a sin to waste food in these hard times, as you well know.’

‘All right, Mum,’ said May, forcing herself to eat. She knew that her mother was right.

May wasn’t quite sure why she was so uneasy about her inheritance, but she did know that she wasn’t going to sell the boat. The following Sunday afternoon she caught the bus to Richmond and went aboard and into the main cabin, which was achingly poignant without Doug. When she’d been here with him the stove had been glowing, the polished wood shining and the atmosphere warm and welcoming.

Now it was cold and uninviting. The air was stale and there were dishes in the sink, which she washed with cold water after she had let in some fresh air. There were various other items lying around too: newspapers, books, a few items of outer clothing. Doug had left here that fateful night to meet her father for a few drinks, not knowing that he would never return.

Leaving her this boat was the highest compliment anyone had ever paid her.
Sands Nest
had meant everything to Doug. Not in any material sense, but because it was full of memories of a time in his life when he’d been happy, and he had trusted her to be its guardian.

She sat on the upholstered leather bench for a long time, lost in thought, remembering Doug here where he had seemed so comfortable and right. He would have hated living with Mum and Dad after they were married, as they had planned. But he would have done it for her. She had a mental image of his crooked smile and the worried look that he had worn too often.