The Runaway (23 page)

‘Very well, Dana McBride; it’s clear you know what you’re talking about.’ Ralph got to his feet and held out a hand. ‘Goodbye for now; I’ll be in touch some time in the next few weeks.’

Dana bit back a squeal of dismay; the next few weeks! She had thought she would leave the cinema as either a disappointed applicant or the future manageress of a thriving cinema cafeteria! But she hid her feelings, thanked Ralph politely for his time and made her way back to Temperance Court.

‘Post, Dee!’ Polly thumped a small bundle of mail down on the table, a smile on her face. She had seen that the envelope her friend was waiting for had arrived, and whilst she knew Dana had been in agonies of apprehension in case the letter was a polite one telling her that she had not got the job, she herself was pretty sure that the letter would appoint her friend as manageress of the new café. Both Ralph and Jake had made no secret of the fact that Ralph had been impressed by her interview, but Ralph had said that however slowly the mills of God might grind, their own mills ground even slower. ‘In fact it might be a month before the bank gives me the go-ahead to start setting the place up,’ he had said. ‘I’m
sure they’ll agree in the end, but not until they’ve dotted all the i’s and crossed all the t’s, by which time I’ll be half mad with impatience and beginning to think it wasn’t such a bright idea after all.’

‘Post!’ Dana said now, stirring porridge over the Primus. She nearly overturned the pan, but managed to right it before a disaster could occur. ‘Oh, you read it; I bet it’s bad news.’

Polly glanced critically at her companion, then shook her head. ‘I couldn’t possibly read your letter,’ she said righteously. ‘Besides, I’ve always thought you a brave sort o’ person, one to look wharrever comes in the eye, but now …’

‘All right, all right,’ Dana said. She carried the porridge pan over to the table, snatched up a tablespoon and served the contents into two bowls. Then she took the letter from Polly, handling it with the tips of her fingers as though she believed it to have been soaked in some noxious fluid. She glanced across at Polly, scowled, then ripped the envelope open. ‘Oh, I suppose you’re right. Only a coward would … oh, Polly me darlin’, me little princess, you knew it, didn’t you? You knew it was good news so you did, I can tell by your smirk! Oh, Poll, I’ve got the perishin’ job and start on Monday next!’

Chapter Eight

Spring 1938

‘YOU HAD ANOTHER
of them dreams last night.’ Polly spoke abstractedly, as though her words meant nothing, but she shot a keen glance at Dana from under her lashes. Her friend seemed happy enough, though once the cafeteria was up and running she had confessed to Polly that much as she enjoyed the job and the challenge of creating something out of nothing, so to speak, it was not the same as it had been when she and Caitlin had started Cathy’s Place.

‘We were working for ourselves, truly believing that we were building a little empire, and would go on to greater things: a proper restaurant, perhaps management so we could start up other businesses,’ she had said rather shyly, when she and Polly had discussed how she felt about her new job. ‘Both Caitlin and I wanted to go home as successful business people … it sounds daft now, when I say it aloud, and I wouldn’t say it to anyone but you, Poll, but we both wanted to prove ourselves and set our – our people back on their heels. Working for a wage, even quite a good one, isn’t the same, somehow. Oh, I’m not grumbling. I’ll be eternally grateful to you, Poll, for getting me that first crucial interview, and to Ralph for listening to me and then either adopting my
ideas or saying that they wouldn’t do, only saying it so nicely that only a fool would have taken offence.’

At the time, Polly had smiled to herself. Ralph had very soon got on the best of terms with his new employee and had asked her out at the end of her first month in order, he said, that they might discuss certain matters. Dana had agreed at once, and when other invitations followed had accepted them with pleasure; she liked her employer more and more, but did not have the slightest intention of allowing their relationship to go beyond a warm friendship.

Polly had said, straight-faced, that she had guessed as much, but this was not strictly true. She thought Dana and Ralph were already more than friends, and in fact believed that it was only this fellow she dreamed about so much, this Con, who stood between them. And dreams, no matter how realistic at the time, were only dreams. Once they get to the kissing stage everything will change, Polly thought, and metaphorically smacked her hand. She and Ernie were now at ’the kissing stage’, and very nice she found it, but she knew she and Dana were very different. She admired her friend very much and worked hard to copy her unaccented voice and to read books Dana recommended. Because they were together so much she listened to the programmes Dana liked on the wireless and joined in discussions when the subject was one she understood.

‘Oh?’ Dana’s voice brought Polly abruptly back to the present. Right now they were preparing a meal, Dana mashing potatoes and Polly making gravy with the juices from the small joint they had just roasted.

‘Yes, you were dreaming again,’ Polly said, heating
the fat from the joint in the pan and sprinkling in flour in tiny amounts as she stirred. ‘But it were – was, I mean – quite a nice sort of dream. I think you were at the seaside, you, your mam and dad, that feller Con … it sounded fun, to tell the truth.’

‘Oh, yes, you’re probably right,’ Dana said casually. ‘But it’s too bad of me to keep you awake when you need your sleep. I keep meaning to suggest that now we’re both in regular employment perhaps I ought to sleep in here, in the living room. Then you wouldn’t be disturbed even if I had the most horrible dreams … you’ve had to wake me more than once when I’ve had a nightmare.’

‘Snap,’ Polly said, grinning. ‘Remember when I had the nightmare that there was a crocodile trying to knock down our door to get at me? Only it were just Ernie, come calling early, and fair frightening the life out o’ the pair of us.’

Dana grinned too. ‘And when I dreamed I was left in charge of the whole cinema and I was trying and trying to get the new spool into the projector, and couldn’t, and Mr Chamberlain was shouting at me to get a move on or the Nazis would just march up the stairs and take over.’

Polly chuckled. ‘And when I thought I was back at the children’s home and old Miss Mona Jones was chasing me round and round the dining room because I’d dared to ask for a second helping,’ she said. ‘So go on, tell me about the seaside. I’ve never been, remember, but I’ve read books …’

‘Right,’ Dana said. ‘Not that I can remember what I dreamed last night. I know; why don’t I tell you about
the first time I went to the seaside … the first time I can remember, at any rate. Will that do?’

‘Sure,’ Polly said. She stirred her mixture with a large wooden spoon, then began to add the vegetable water little by little. ‘Fire ahead. Start with leavin’ Castletara …’

‘And go on until you stop,’ Dana said. ‘Well, it was a fine day, the sort of day you don’t always get when you want it! The sky was brilliant blue and Mammy had packed a picnic lunch in a big basket. Mr Devlin and Con came too, all of us squashed into the pony cart except Daddy; he rode his chesnut mare, and got to the beach first, of course.’

‘Of course,’ echoed Polly. She was already aware that Dana’s daddy meant more to her than anyone else on earth. ‘Go on.’

‘Mammy, Mammy, where’s me little spade an’ bucket? Con’s got a much better one than me, so he says he’ll dig out the sand whiles I find shells, then we’ll make the most bootiful, most perfick castle in the whole world so we will!’

Feena McBride leaned across the breakfast table and pushed a lock of the child’s bright hair back from her forehead. ‘How do you know we’re going to the seaside?’ she asked teasingly. ‘’Tis a fine day sure enough and Mr Devlin says the weather’s broke at last but that doesn’t mean we can leave Castletara to its own devices while we go a-pleasuring.’

Across the table the small Dana frowned thoughtfully. How
did
she know? But of course though she was only five and had not even started school, could not read and had only recently learned to tell the clock, she had her
own means of identifying the seasons. When the rambling, crumbling wall which surrounded the castle was suddenly covered in the pink, dark red and white of valerian blossom she knew it was summer. When the golden rod blazed forth in the wild garden it was autumn. Spring was primroses clustered thickly on the banks of the lane which led to the village, their faint scent even lovelier to Dana’s mind than the little purple violets which bloomed at the same time. And winter of course spoke for itself: bare trees, icicles on the wall, snow biting one’s face if one ventured outside during a storm.

‘Well, alanna? Sure and I’m still waiting for an answer! What makes you think we’re off to the seaside?’

Dana giggled. ‘I know ’tis summer ’cos the village children has their holidays now, and I know ’tis summer as well when the valerian blooms; spring means primroses and that,’ she explained. ‘And I know we’re going to the seaside because Con told me to dig out my old spade and bucket.’

Feena McBride laughed and got up from her chair. ‘Sure and aren’t you the clever one!’ she said, pausing to help her daughter get down. ‘Very well, run along and do as Con says. We’re going in the pony trap …’ she ticked the passengers off on her fingers, ‘me, you, Con and Deirdre; Mr Devlin will drive. And Daddy will ride, of course.’

‘Oh, it’s not fair; if Daddy can ride why can’t I? Oh, I know I can’t go on me little pony, but couldn’t I sit in front of Daddy? I’d be ever so careful, ever so good.’

Feena McBride sighed and shook her head. ‘You know very well that having you aboard would spoil your daddy’s day, since he means to get to the bay before the
rest of us. He’ll not ride Thunderer – he’s taking Strawberry, because she won’t mind saddle bags full of towels and bathing suits – but even so he’ll enjoy a gallop, which he couldn’t do with two up.’

Dana sighed; it was fair enough and she knew it. Vaguely, through the mists of time – for each year before one’s five seems half a lifetime at least – she remembered other occasions, other pleas to be allowed to go with Daddy instead of sitting sedately in the pony trap. But what did it matter, after all? A day at the seaside with all the people she loved most would be wonderful enough.

They reached the bay, a tiny bite of golden sand between rugged rocks which ran down into the sea, making it a perfect spot for bathers who were not yet capable of withstanding the strong tidal surge on other parts of the coast. Here even Dana and Con could safely learn to swim and enjoy the water without fear. Mammy and Deirdre helped Daddy and Mr Devlin to carry all the paraphernalia of their day out down the steep little cliff path and on to the warm dry sand at the top of the beach. There was no breeze and the sun shone calmly from a blue sky on to blue water. Untroubled by wind or waves the little bay seemed to smile a welcome, and Dana thought that it really did welcome them, smiling at them to show it was glad of company after so long alone, for Daddy always said they were the only family to visit the tiny cove.

As soon as everything had been carried down on to the beach Dana and Con threw off their clothing to display the bathers they had put on at home and charged into the sea. Dana closed her eyes as Con began
kicking water over her and tried rather feebly to splash him back, screaming and gasping as the cold water struck her warm flesh. Mr Devlin, however, soon put a stop to such horseplay. He too wore his swimming costume and presently both Mammy and Daddy joined them. Deirdre always shuddered at the mention of sea bathing – she could not swim – but the McBrides and Johnny Devlin swam strongly out of the encircling arms of rock to where the sea ran deep and strong and the waves were white-topped. Con, older and bolder than Dana, would have liked to accompany them but knew he was not strong enough and would be walloped by his father if he made the attempt. So he and Dana swam and played in the shallows and came ashore when they grew tired, scorning Deirdre’s offer of a towel and beginning to explore the pools amongst the rocks on each side of the bay.

‘Mind your toes,’ Con said, giving her his wicked lopsided grin. ‘If you lift that curtain of weeds there’s bound to be crabs hiding away – they don’t like the hot sun, you know, and search out a cool place – and if you disturb them they’ll have your toes soon as look at you.’

‘You’re a liar you are, Con Devlin,’ Dana said stoutly, but she lifted the curtain of weed with a good deal of caution. She shrieked as something grabbed her toes, but it was only Con, laughing fit to bust and calling her a weedy little twerp who was scared of her own shadow.

‘I am
not
; you are trying to frighten me. If I tell your daddy you’ll be for it so you will and serve you right,’ Dana said indignantly.

She aimed a blow at her tormentor which he easily parried, but he rumpled her hair affectionately, saying
remorsefully as he did so, ‘Sorry I am to tease you and you the best and bravest kid I ever did meet. Tell you what, this small pool will be like our sea aquarium. We’ll put everything we catch into it and see how many critters we can collect. Or we could have a contest; you put your finds in that pool …’ he pointed, ‘and I’ll use this one.’

They agreed to do this though Dana pointed out that it could scarcely be fair since each pool would already contain a great many sea creatures, but Con said that didn’t matter. ‘’Tis only a bit of fun; no prizes for the winner,’ he pointed out. ‘Tell you what: the winner will be the one who gets the weirdest, rarest thing in their pool. Shall we use shrimping nets or just hands?’

‘Your hands are huge compared to mine; we’ll use our shrimping nets,’ Dana decided, and very soon she was finding crabs smaller than house spiders and stripy shells whose occupants clung firmly to their piece of weed and came out to peer indignantly at this interruption to their quiet lives. By the time Deirdre called them back for lunch they had found hermit crabs, translucent shrimps – difficult to see, let alone catch – little fishes and anemones: fat cushions of scarlet jelly with waving arms which they enticed you to touch and then withdrew indignantly into their bodies. The children decided that the most peculiar things they found were the small prickly porcupines which Mammy assured them were called sea urchins.