Now the War Is Over (37 page)

Tommy never complained but she could feel an air of permanent misery coming from him. She had managed to get a conversation with him last Saturday when they were alone – a rare thing in
the house.

‘What is it, Tommy? Is it the money, or what?’

‘No – money’s – all right.’

She had thought so – he was earning nearly six bob a week which did not seem too bad.

‘What is it, then? I’ve never seen you look so browned off in your life. Come on – I’ll make us a cuppa and you can tell me.’ She wanted to be his big sis again,
for him to need her as he always had.

He seemed reluctant at first, but he didn’t push her away this time. Once she had filled the pot and sat with him, with a packet of Bourbons, really showing she wanted to listen, he began
to open up.

Tommy was employed in the Suppliers’ Accounts department. He had been handling invoices – Melly remembered this and asked him about it.

‘They – took me – off that,’ he said.

That was when he was supposed to staple invoices together – goods in and goods out – and put them in alphabetical order, to get through three hundred a day. But Tommy was working
more-or-less one-armed and he couldn’t keep up. Anyway, the others often fibbed about what they’d done.

‘I never – thought to – tell him a – lie,’ Tommy said. ‘So I was – the – one – always in – trouble.’

Now, he said, they had taken him off that and put him on filing. ‘Dead filing,’ he said, all the non-urgent stuff.

As the story emerged, Melly’s heart ached for him. Tommy could see himself spending his whole life in the same place, despite his O-levels, with everyone thinking him simple because of the
way he talked. Around him, other people with no qualifications like he had would be getting promotions and pay rises.

‘They think – I’m – stupid. But if – they want to – know – something – they – ask me,’ he finished bitterly.

Melly felt sad and angry for him. It was a relief to think about someone else and their troubles. Every bit of her wanted to reach out and protect him.

‘Oh, Tommy,’ she said. ‘Could you get another job somewhere?’

‘It’d be – the same,’ he said, staring down at the table-top. ‘And – Dad – has to – keep – driving – me.’

‘What about . . . ? Aren’t they getting you a car – a three-wheeler?’

‘Soon – I’ve – been to – the – doctor. He said – I – could.’

‘That’ll be nice. You’ll be able to get about, won’t you?’

Tommy nodded bleakly.

Melly left him, wishing there was something she could do.

Now, approaching the house where she had to pick up Alan, she was filled with dread at the thought of having to talk to anyone. But it had to be done. She knocked on the door and was able to go
through the motions of thanking the lady.

‘Come on, Alan,’ she said to her sturdy little brother. He had seemed pleased to see her which made her happy. In some ways it was nice to be at home. ‘We’ll go out to
the park later, shall we?’

Alan took her hand and trotted along beside her.

As she drew close to the house, she saw a bus pull up at the stop along the road. When it had moved on, from among the few people who got off, two figures emerged. Seconds later she recognized
them with a shock. It was as if two worlds were colliding.

It was Berni and Margaret, both in summery outfits. Margaret’s top was bright yellow and made Melly think of a sunflower. For a second she felt like running away. And then she was
overjoyed to see them. She raised her hand and waved. She saw them look at each other, then wave back.

‘What’re you two doing here?’ she asked, trying to cover up the fact that she felt suddenly like crying. She swallowed hard and forced a smile.

‘Come to see you – what d’you think?’ Berni replied. She wore a navy blue dress, a rather austere-looking thing, and flat brown shoes. ‘We got days off at the same
time for once.’

They both looked relieved by the sight of her. They had sent a card in the early days, signed by a few of the girls in their year group. Melly wondered what they had expected to find. It was a
good thing they had not come earlier, though, she thought – she would not have managed to hold herself together.

They did not stay too long – a couple of hours – both seeming to understand that she would not be able to cope with more. But they had a drink and took Alan out to
the park. The three girls sat on the grass which still had a breath of damp about it.

‘So are you getting better?’ Margaret said. ‘When we asked Sister what was wrong, she said you were sick. You had some sort of breakdown that morning, by the look of
it.’

Margaret was more able to talk seriously than Berni, whose usual way was to tease and joke.

‘Things just got on top of me,’ Melly said. She had been thinking about it. There had been one thing after another – Mr Stafford’s haemorrhage, then Mr Alexander. Deaths
were a shock. Mr Palmer dying was a shock too. Nurses acted as if death was normal – which it was, of course – but not when you weren’t used to it. It had all built up in her.

‘I never felt I could say,’ she added.

Berni was staring down at the grass.

‘We’ve been back in class,’ she said, seeming to want to change the subject. The two of them talked about the classes and their new wards and the gossip of the other girls,
laughing together. As the conversation turned back to their day-to-day concerns they seemed more comfortable.

Melly felt herself shrinking inside. All of it was so familiar, yet it seemed so far away now, a world she could not be part of. It was desolate, like watching a train steam out of the station
and knowing that the doors were closed and you could not get on.

Berni got up and started to run about with Alan. They had brought a ball and she kicked it about with him. Berni had younger brothers, Melly knew. How she must miss her family, she thought. But
Berni never showed her emotions.

Margaret sat back, resting on her hands behind her, her brown, shapely legs crossed in front of her. She looked neat, as usual. Her skirt was lime green, her tan leather shoes flat.

‘You coming back, Melly?’ she asked. ‘What you going to do?’ Her face was serious, but she asked as if this was quite possible and Melly had not missed the train after
all.

Melly looked at her, grateful for her directness, but feeling suddenly full of anguish and close to tears. Her emotions confused her these days. She would be numb for ages, feeling nothing, only
to be ambushed by a rush of overpowering feeling – anger or frustration or grief.

‘I don’t know. Mom and Dad keep telling me that all this shows it wasn’t for me and I should go and get another job. I’ll have to soon – I can’t just sit
around not earning my keep.’

‘Matron – she said you could come back?’

She inclined her head. ‘Maybe.’

Margaret was silent for a few moments, her eyes following Alan’s movements. Melly thought the conversation was over, but then Margaret said:

‘My mom had a breakdown – back home. I suppose that’s what it was.’

Melly waited.

‘After she had my brother. There are five of us. My sister and me – we looked after the house and the others, the baby.’

‘Did she go to hospital?’

Margaret looked incredulously at her. She burst out laughing. ‘Hospital? There’s no hospital – not for that. No – she got a strong faith and she recovered from it in her
way.’ She leaned back and altered the position of her legs. ‘It’s just the way of things sometimes.’

‘That’s it – squeeze, hard as you can. Good – now the other hand – ah, yes, that’s your good hand all right! Good lad!’

The technical officer who was dealing with Tommy, a bird-like, black-haired man, kept up a breezy patter throughout the tests – eyesight, hearing, his reaction times and now the strength
of his grip. They were in the Artificial Limb and Appliance Centre at Selly Oak, finding out if Tommy could have his disability three-wheeler and seeing what kind of controls he would need.

‘You’re going to have to do all the work with your right hand, but then you’re used to that. We’ll see what we can do. That’s all we need for now.’

Tommy sat still, staring at the floor.

‘It’s all right – you can go now,’ the man said. ‘Don’t worry – we’ll be able to fix something up for you.’

‘Oh.’ Tommy stirred himself, reaching for his stick. ‘Thanks.’

‘Using the wheelchair most of the time, are you?’

‘Mostly,’ Tommy said. Never at work though. However slowly he walked, lurching on the stick, however tiring it was, he was not going in there in a cripple’s chair.

‘Are you all right, Tommy?’

All right – was he? The putty-coloured pall covering his life, his feelings, had become normal to him so that now he no longer knew.

He struggled to his feet. ‘Yes. Thanks.’

‘Buck up, lad! This is going to give you a new lease of life – freedom. The open road. So long as you’re careful.’ He patted Tommy on the back as he crossed the bare,
clinical room. ‘Someone waiting for you, is there?’

‘Yes,’ Tommy said. ‘My – father.’ At the door, again, he said, ‘Thank you . . . sir.’

‘Cheerio, lad. Good luck.’

‘It’s here, Tommy – they brought it this morning!’

Rachel ran to the front door the moment Danny brought Tommy back after work that day.

‘I know. Dad said.’

‘It’s along at Mr and Mrs Turner’s for the moment. The man’s coming on Saturday, to train you.’

Mr Turner, round the corner, had a shed which he said Tommy could keep the three-wheeler in. They had been dismayed at first, when they found out that one of the conditions of having an invalid
car was being able to keep it under cover. The house had no garage and they couldn’t get it round the back, but the Turners had come to their rescue.

‘Just think, Tommy,’ Rachel chattered to him, as she stirred a pot of steak-and-kidney on the stove. ‘You’ll be able to go out by yourself. That’s nice, isn’t
it?’

He nodded. She handed him a cup of tea.

Melly appeared downstairs. Tommy exchanged looks with her. There was a silent understanding between them. They didn’t talk much but each knew the other was sad and suffering. It was no
good talking to Mom and Dad. All they ever said was that you just had to buck up and not mope.

Tommy sipped his tea, still dragged down by his day. He did talk to people at work sometimes, but his speech was just too slow for them. It felt as if they were putting up with him rather than
ever being friends or treating him seriously. And they didn’t always bear with him all that patiently. ‘All right – never mind, I’ll ask someone else,’ he often heard
when he’d been asked a question.

And that girl, Con, gave him such pitying, scornful looks.

In the dinner break, when the others went off in chattering groups, Tommy stayed at the desk, alone with his sandwiches.

Though he was glad to be issued with the three-wheeler, or Invacar as it was called, all it meant was that he could get to work by himself. It didn’t change anything else. Looking ahead at
his life, all he could see was this lonely toil, nothing interesting or demanding. Just a grey nothing-muchness, forever.

When could he ever get a better job or have any of the normal life the others looked forward to? To friends and marriage – even a family? These were things he never really dared to hope
for.

When he did see the trike – in fact it was more like a little car – he felt more excited. This little blue, almost triangular vehicle was made especially for him!
The controls were arranged so that he could do everything with his right hand.

When the technical officer arrived on Saturday morning to train him, Tommy was afraid that all the family would come out and watch. That was the last thing he wanted. He was grateful that Mom
made them all go back inside.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Kids – get in. Tommy doesn’t need you gawping at him.’

The man was jolly and gingery, with freckles. He slid the door open.

‘Here’s your carriage, sir – all the way from Benfleet in Essex. You get in and try it.’

He showed Tommy the controls, and walked alongside him as he learned to use the little machine. As Tommy sat in the seat and the three-wheeler crawled noisily along the street and round the
corner, he felt his spirits lift. It was true – it felt good to be on the road. And there was only room for him inside. It was all his and no one else could muscle in or beg rides off
him!

‘You’ll soon get the hang of it,’ the man said, smiling at him. ‘The examiner’ll be along next week to put you through your paces and then – off you go! And
you know they have rallies and outings, don’t you? I went down to Hendon to one last year – a mate of mine drove all the way down in his car like this. It’s a nice day out. All
very jolly. You could go this year – it’s somewhere in Manchester. And there’ll be things going on close to home.’

Tommy felt his face crease into a grin. It was an unusual feeling for him.

‘Sounds – nice,’ he said. He felt something lighten, like the clouds thinning, letting rays of light into his life. Suddenly something felt possible. New places – maybe
even new friends!

The next week he did everything he had to do for the test: reversing, an emergency stop – he noticed the examiner got well out of his way when they were doing that one
– three-point turn, indicators . . . After that he was on his own, though the man said he could leave his L-plates on for as long as he wanted to.

‘Are you pleased?’ Melly asked him that evening. She had been helping Dad and Gladys on the Rag Market that day. The rest of the family were all milling about. Tommy was at the table
in his wheelchair.

‘Yeah,’ he said. He could feel that smile sneaking out again. Pleased? Oh, he was pleased all right!

‘Go on, you lot,’ Rachel shouted to the younger children. ‘Out from under my feet or you won’t get your tea.’ There was a delicious smell of frying bacon in the
room.

Tommy could feel his sister’s eyes on him. Her pale, strained face was beginning to look a little bit better now as well, though her hair was long and straggly. She looked exhausted.
She’d helped out at the market a couple of times now, but a day there really seemed to take it out of her. He wished he could help her but he did not know how to.