Now the War Is Over (18 page)

Rachel was at the school with Tommy all the next day. Once the sickness in the morning eased off she did not feel too bad and was glad to get out. After that she kept
forgetting she was expecting and the memory of it would come back with a jolt.

When the day ended, she and Tommy went out to wait for the taxi to take them home. It was another cold but dry afternoon. Tommy struggled along, using the chair as a support. The school liked to
encourage him to walk as much as he could, not just sit all day. He had been to the Woodlands hospital for his first operation to straighten his left leg and he was due to go in again. Tommy knew
it was good to move as much as he could, but when they reached the gate he sat down again with relief.

Rachel saw him wince.

‘Hurts you, doesn’t it, babby?’ she said.

Tommy gave a faint nod. He didn’t like fuss, especially in front of the other children who were coming out. Some of them were much worse off and could not even stand.

Again, fury filled Rachel. This was another reason why Danny was being so stupid and thoughtless. Think of all the attention Tommy was getting here in Birmingham! She had hoped Gladys might say
something last night, but Danny went out to the Salutation with Mo – and she could hardly begrudge Mo. By the time he got back it was too late.

As they were waving off some of the others, Rachel heard a voice say, ‘Hello again.’

She saw the man who she had spoken to a few days ago, walking past, hand in hand with a girl with straight, white-blonde hair and a pale, sweet face.

‘Oh – hello,’ Rachel said. There was a moment’s awkwardness, so she said, ‘This is Tommy – my son. Say hello, Tommy.’

Tommy squinted up at the man. ‘Hel – lo,’ he said.

‘Hello, Tommy.’ The man smiled and Rachel noticed that his lips were full, his top teeth square and widely spaced. His expression was very appealing, lighting up his face. He looked
neat and trim, in fawn-coloured trousers and brown tweed coat, well worn, like an old friend. He nodded at the girl, affection in his eyes. ‘This is Ellen, my daughter.’

Ellen smiled in their general direction and said, ‘Hello,’ shyly. She looked about fifteen, Rachel thought. She wondered about the man’s age. Older than her, certainly. She
guessed that he was in his late thirties.

‘We’re just having a little walk now school’s over, as it’s dry today,’ the man said. ‘Ellen goes to the blind school. You’re all just finished as
well?’

‘Yes,’ Rachel said. ‘I’m waiting for our taxi – we live the other side of town.’

‘Oh,’ he paused, seeming shy, hesitant. ‘That’s a way to come.’

She explained briefly, about the school, how Tommy had come to attend there, how it was the only school like it, about the taxis from the Electric Light Garage.

‘That sounds very good,’ the man said.

‘Yes – we’re very lucky,’ Rachel said. She looked into his eyes, grey, crinkled at the corners, sympathetic. She looked away again, down at Tommy.

‘Us too.’ He looked at his daughter. ‘They’ve helped us so much.’

They didn’t know what to say then.

‘I’m Michael, by the way,’ he said, holding his hand out. ‘Michael Livingstone.’ He was well spoken, not posh exactly, but a gentleman. Rachel sensed something in
him which drew her. It was as if beneath his diffident manner lay a strong need to talk to someone. And he treated her with respect. She told him her name.

‘I don’t know if . . .’ He hesitated. ‘Sorry, this must seem rather forward. But Ellen and I are on our own. We don’t see much company. I wondered if . .
.’

Just then the taxi pulled up at the kerb, the driver waving to them.

‘Not today, obviously,’ he said. ‘But perhaps you and Tommy could come to our house for a cup of tea? We only live round the corner.’

‘Oh, all right then – thanks!’ Rachel said. Flustered, she hardly knew what she was saying. She needed to get Tommy into the car. ‘That’d be nice – but I
don’t know. The taxi always comes at the same time, you see.’

‘Well –’ Afterwards she wondered if he would have said this had they not been so hurried by the taxi arriving. ‘Just you, if you like. A morning?’

‘We’ll have to see.’ She wasn’t here any other morning, only when she came with Tommy. She helped him into the car. ‘Bye for now.’

It was only as they drove home and she let it sink in, that it struck her this was all a bit startling. She thought about telling Danny when she got home, the way before she would always have
told him things that happened in the day. He was her friend as well as her husband.

But the memory thudded back to her. Australia. He was still going on about it. It seemed to be all he could think about. Whatever she said she couldn’t get through to him. No – damn
Danny and his plans which seemed to leave all of the rest of them out. Danny didn’t feel like her friend at the moment. This was something she wouldn’t tell him. It wasn’t as if
she had time to go and have tea with Michael Livingstone anyway.

‘I want a word with you, Danny.’

Gladys waited until all the children were in bed. Rachel had just come back downstairs, feeling queasy, her head swimming with tiredness. When she heard Gladys start on this conversation, she
woke up again immediately, for once happy that Gladys was taking charge.

Danny was hunched over the table with a pencil and paper, his cigarette burning on an ashy saucer beside him. He looked up from his drawing, irritated at being interrupted.

Gladys’s tone left no doubt she was serious. She was still standing, one hand on her hip, forbidding.

‘What’s all this nonsense about going to Australia?’

Danny gave Rachel an accusing look. Her eyes shot back the reply – you never said don’t talk to Auntie about it. Why shouldn’t I?

‘Stop looking daggers and say summat,’ Gladys ordered. ‘Did you think you were just going to take off without saying a word, lad?’ She lowered her voice, more hurt than
angry. ‘Just like that? After all these years – after . . .’ She gestured with her free hand. ‘Everything?’

Danny stared down at the tabletop under the assault of these shaming words. It was Gladys who had taken him in when he came out of the orphanage, who had brought him up in Alma Street, who had
given him work on the Rag Market, who had taken Rachel in when they were expecting their first child, when still hardly more than children themselves. Gladys helped them get married and helped
Rachel to look after Melly and Tommy when Danny was still in the army. And she had been staunch to Rachel over keeping Tommy at home. Gladys Poulter was tough as a pair of old leather boots, but
she had always been there for them. They owed her everything.

‘I . . .’ Danny shrugged and looked up at her. ‘I was thinking about it, that’s all.’ He looked at Rachel again. She knew her eyes were full of hostility.

‘Well, when did you think you were going to mention it to me – eh?’ Gladys said. ‘From what Rach says, you’re thinking of taking off, leaving your wife and all your
family – in my house, don’t forget. And what did you think Rach was going to live on while you was gallivanting about round the world? Did you think of that, Danny?’

‘I’d send money home!’ Danny erupted, full of indignation. He got up from the table, furious now at being ganged up against. ‘I wasn’t going over there to lie on
the beach, you know. I was going to work and make a place for us to live – a house, a new start. You as well, Auntie, if you wanted – all of us.’

‘Not for “us”,’ Rachel reminded him acidly. ‘Cos as I said, I’m not coming, Danny, and nor are the kids.’

‘She won’t even think of it, Auntie!’ Danny burst out in frustration. ‘Why won’t she even think of it when we’re all stuck here in this filthy bloody warren?
You wouldn’t have to work. And it wouldn’t matter how many kids we had! Think of it, Auntie – it’s hot over there, not rain and fog day after day. We’d all be together
over there instead, that’s all. There’s a whole new life to be had.’

‘A new life?’ Gladys’s voice dropped. ‘Why d’you think I need a new life, Danny? Don’t you think I have a life? I earn all my own money, I’ve got a roof
over my head, I’ve got family and friends just a stone’s throw away who I wouldn’t change for gold. I couldn’t leave Dolly, especially now. Not after Wally . . . What other
life d’you think I need at my age?’

‘Well, all right – not you then,’ he said. ‘But us – we’re young. We’ve got things we want to do—’

‘Stop talking about me as if I want what you want!’ Rachel burst out, seething with frustration. ‘I’ve told you, Danny, I’m not—’

‘
Some
wives,’ he interrupted, leaning towards her so aggressively that she thought he might hit her, ‘do as they’re flaming well told. Dain’t you promise
to obey me when we were standing there in that church? If I say we’re going to Australia, then you should be saying, yes, Danny, all right. If you think, as my husband, that we should go and
live in another country, then my job is to come with you and make the best of it. That’s what a proper wife should do.’

He stood back, glaring at her. Rachel met his eyes, stunned by this. She had never heard Danny talk this way before. All these years they had muddled on through life like the two young pals they
were when they first married. Then the war came and he was away for four years, leaving her first with Melly, then Tommy and all that went with his difficult little life.

And when he came back, they were no longer children. They had both fought their battles separately and survived – she as well as he. To obey, in the way Danny meant her to obey, would be
like being a child, a little helpless thing with no mind of her own. And she was not that child any more.

‘Who’ve you been talking to?’ Gladys said. She pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Who’s put these ideas in your head?’

There was no answer. Danny and Rachel carried on staring each other out, their gazes locked ferociously together. Neither wanted to be the first to look away. Rachel could see the burning
feeling in Danny’s blue eyes, the desire and restless frustration. But she too was full of a strong, immovable feeling.

‘Obey?’ Her voice was icy. She felt steely and calm. ‘Danny – why the hell d’you think I should obey you? I’m not a child. I’m not a soldier, marching
to your orders. You’re not thinking of any of us and you’re wrong to ask me to go to Australia with you, however much you want to go.
You
go, if you want it that badly. But no
one’ll be coming after you. We live here. If you want to lose your family, you buy that ticket and off you go.’

She stood up and leaned across the table, her fist clenched.

‘And don’t
ever
talk to me about obeying you again. I don’t care what it says in those vows – I’ve known you since we were knee high and, if I know one
thing, it’s that I’m equal to you. I brought up your kids for years when you weren’t even here. I’m not having you pushing me around. And,
for the last time
,
I’m not going to sodding Australia neither.’

Danny got to his feet. At last he broke the look which had sizzled between them and lowered his head. With an abrupt movement he picked up his cigarettes and flung out of the house, slamming the
door so that the walls shook.

Rachel and Gladys sat in silence for a moment. Rachel stared down at the tablecloth, the crumbs on the blue-and-white checks.

‘Am I wrong, Auntie?’

Gladys sighed. ‘Danny’s father, Wilf – he was a restless so-and-so as well. All stuck in these little yards, no space to move – you can’t see further than across
the street. Even going to war to get shot at’s an adventure, I s’pose.’

‘If it wasn’t for Tommy, I might go,’ Rachel said. She looked up at Gladys. ‘I can’t do it to him.’

‘No,’ Gladys said. She started to stack the cups that were on the table. ‘I know.’ She stood up. ‘Danny’ll get over it. He’ll have to, won’t
he?’

‘Tommy?’ Melly said. ‘I’m just popping over to see Lil and Stanley. I won’t be long, all right?’

It was a Saturday and the others were all out. Dad and Gladys had taken Kev with them to the Rag Market and Mom had said after dinner, ‘I just need to go out for a while – pick up a
few things. You’ll stay with the boys, won’t you?’

Melly nodded. Not that Mom was even waiting for her reply. They’re always telling me
I’m
the dreamy one, she thought grumpily. Mom seemed to have her head in the clouds
these days. She and Dad were in a mood with each other. Nothing had been said but they just ignored each other most of the time. Yesterday while they were having tea Auntie had suddenly come out
with:

‘I’m sick of this, you two – for heaven’s sake!’

Melly saw Mom and Dad glare at each other. They each carried on, cross and stubborn, eating their tea. Melly and Tommy exchanged looks and Tommy rolled his eyes. But they didn’t know what
was going on. They’re silly, Melly thought crossly. If we did that they’d tell us to make it up and have done with it.

And Mom was getting more involved with Tommy’s school – another morning a week now. She always seemed miles away these days.

It wasn’t that Melly minded staying with Tommy. He was used to his school now so it didn’t make him quite so tired. He had established his independence from her and they were getting
used to things so that now Melly felt more as if he was her brother again. He didn’t want her to teach him, but they would play things together. They had already played noughts and crosses
and hangman and Ludo. But she had had enough now. The afternoon was hanging heavily.

The games had helped keep her emotional thoughts at bay, but now she was finding it hard to sit still. Dolly Morrison had come over last night. Usually Dolly came over and cried because she said
Mo couldn’t stand seeing her cry at home. Through her tears she’d say things like, ‘I haven’t got five children – that’s wrong. I’ve got
six.
My
family feels like a table someone’s sawn one of the legs off.’

But last night her face was lit up the way they hadn’t seen it since before the accident.

‘He’s coming home!’ she announced. She was just back from her long journey across town. Reggie was in Woodlands, the orthopaedic hospital in Selly Oak, where Tommy had had his
operation. ‘They’ve said he’s ready – at last!’