The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow (18 page)

I was glad when the morning came. At least I was back in the normal everyday world full of war talk and shortages and not in some surreal dreamworld with its sad images materialising from the subconscious. No, in this normal world, I could block out the image of Greg and another woman.

Hattie appeared later that day and I saw by her face that the proposal hadn’t happened. I opened my mouth to speak but she stopped me.

‘Not one word, Ann – I don’t want to speak about it again,’ she whispered furiously.

I recalled her incandescent look last night and was suddenly saddened. What a world we all lived in – Maddie and Minnie’s children growing up without their fathers; me growing older and heading for a life alone when Lily grew up; and then there was Hattie and Graham but no wedding ring in the near future.

Even Joe seemed subdued when he called at the shop. He had been full of the Italian armistice which had been signed in September but this euphoria had seemingly worn off. ‘I see Eisenhower’s to be the chief bummer in this war,’ he said sourly. ‘The Americans come in at the last minute and then they take over.’

Connie said crisply, ‘Does it matter who’s in charge, Joe? As long as this war is over, I don’t care who’s the chief bummer. The Archangel Gabriel or Lucifer – it doesn’t matter a fig.’

Joe was shocked. ‘You don’t mean that, Connie. Surely it’s got to be the good guys that win. We don’t want the devil taking over.’

Connie laughed. ‘Just kidding, Joe. Let’s hope it’s Gabriel.’

And so the year ended with long queues at shops and everyone making do and mending and Granny trying hard to keep a cheerful look on her grieving face.

The only two bright spots were Lily’s success at Rockwell and the happy family that was Dad, Rosie and Jay. Somehow they made up for all the rotten bits.

The papers were calling it D-Day, 6 June 1944. The Allies had landed on the beaches of France and were now poised to overrun Europe. Surely it would only be a matter of a few weeks before the war was finally over?

Joe was almost speechless with joy and, to be honest, Connie and I were also ecstatic with this news.

‘Did I not tell you that the end was in sight, Connie?’ Joe said, looking smug that his continuous optimism had finally been proved right.

‘Aye, you did, Joe, and it now looks as if we’re going to win this awful war. Mind you, I think Eisenhower might take all the credit for it.’

Joe’s face went a deep puce colour. He said darkly, ‘He’d better not. We were fighting this war all on our own and it’s only because we held Hitler and his hordes at bay to let the Americans come into the picture – carrying on like a platoon of Errol Flynns and John Waynes.’

‘Och, I’m sure the ordinary American soldier is just as frightened of the war as our lads are,’ I said.

Joe snorted and muttered something as he left the shop.

But the good news was everywhere. The women standing in the queue at the grocer’s shop were full of it. One tall gaunt-looking woman was telling the assistant as she put her rations in her bag, ‘Och, aye, it’ll be jam and butter and roasts of meat at Hogmanay this year now that it looks like the war will soon be over.’

The thought of plentiful food again and no more queuing, coupons or rationing cheered us all up. What bliss! I felt so much more optimistic, as was Maddie. She could now envisage a future with Danny and Daniel.

Minnie, however, was less sure. ‘Quite honestly, Ann, it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen Peter that I’m worried about our reunion. He’s bound to have changed after all these years and what if we don’t get on?’ She gave me a worried look. ‘To tell you the truth, I can’t even picture his face. I try hard to visualise him but the harder I try, the more his face becomes vague and I have to look at his photo to remember him. Do you think that’s right? Am I the only woman that can’t remember what her husband looks like?’

I tried to reassure her. ‘You’ll be all right, Minnie. You’re bound to have these worries after all these years and I don’t think you’re alone with having these feelings but, once Peter comes home, you and wee Peter will be so glad to see him that your worries will disappear.’

She nodded but didn’t look convinced.

Then all this euphoria evaporated when the papers started to report the latest weapon from Germany – the V-1 flying bomb, nicknamed the buzz bomb or the doodlebug. These terrible weapons, which crashed when they ran out of fuel, were being unleashed all over the south of England and London, bringing terror to cities and the countryside alike. Everything that lay under the flight path of these pilot-less planes was at risk of destruction and this corridor was called ‘Bomb Alley’.

Joe knew all about them. ‘You’re safe if you can hear its engine but, when the noise stops, it just crashes down on the streets full of folk or on houses, hospitals and schools. It’s terrible and I just hope this doesn’t turn the war in favour of the Germans again.’

Connie was distressed, as I was. ‘That’s barbaric, Joe. Imagine going to school or your work one day and one of these doodlebugs falls out of the sky. I can well imagine the terror it brings to folk living under its flight path.’

In spite of myself, I couldn’t stop shivering.

Joe said, ‘Well, it’s one blessing of living so far north – the buzz bombs will never reach us.’

I heard myself saying something and I realised it was a little prayer of thanks at this huge blessing.

Then, at the end of June, I got a letter from Greg – actually it was more of a note than a proper letter but its contents were distressing:

You remember the girl I wrote about last year Ann? Well we plan to get married soon. I wanted to tell you myself and not let you hear it from someone else. I had hoped to hear from you but as you never answered my last two letters I can only hope you are well, as are Lily and Granny and Rosie, Jay and your Dad and also Maddie and Daniel.

Regards, Greg

Well, that’s that, I thought. Greg was now a million miles away from me and soon to marry another woman. I hurriedly sent off an answer – one as terse as his letter had been.

Congratulations on your forthcoming marriage. Best wishes to you both for the future. Lily and Granny also send their good wishes.

Ann

Actually the last bit had been a white lie because I hadn’t told either Granny or Lily this news and, in fact, I was in two minds whether to tell anyone.

After posting the letter I sat by the window and looked at the river. A scene that always made me feel calm but, on this particular occasion, my mind was in a turmoil. Greg hadn’t mentioned a date for his wedding but it had to be soon, I thought. I couldn’t imagine him writing to tell me of this event if it was to take place in the far distant future. I reckoned the nuptials would take place within a month or maybe even earlier and I inwardly dreaded living through the next few weeks. It would be on my mind all the time – I just knew it.

Another problem was the looming school holidays and I would have to put on a brave face for Lily’s sake. She had been at the secondary school for almost a year and I often wondered where the time went. Days seemed to merge into one another. It was as if we were all holding our breath, waiting for something to happen. Then in July it did. Alice, Rosie’s mum, fell down the stairs and fractured her ankle. Granny had sent for the doctor and Alice was now lying on the couch with her ankle in a white stookie plaster. Rosie was spending her days between the Overgate and the Hilltown and Granny and I did what we could to help.

I was in the shop a week later when Rosie rushed in, her face flushed red and her hair uncombed.

We were taken aback but, before I could speak, Connie said, ‘What’s the matter, Rosie?’

‘Ann, can you come up and look at Jay? He’s not well and I’m really worried about him.’

Connie nodded to me to go and I followed Rosie up the hill.

‘What’s the matter with him, Rosie? Has he been sick?’

She was almost crying. ‘No, he’s lying on the floor and he looks terrible. My neighbour next door is looking after him until I got you.’

By now I was really worried. It didn’t sound like Jay. He was normally so full of life and mischief and running around with his wooden train. Thankfully, we soon reached the door and I saw the neighbour kneeling on the floor beside him. She was a small elderly woman with a thin face and sharp dark eyes.

When we entered, she stood up. ‘I think your bairn has the measles, Rosie.’

Rosie was upset. ‘But I don’t see any spots on him, Ina.’

Jay was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and short trousers. Ina lifted his arm and we saw the telltale spots on the inside of his arm. Ina left and I helped Rosie lift Jay’s floppy little body on to her lap while I went to fetch his pyjamas from the bedroom. By now, the red spots were all over his back and he opened his eyes and cried.

‘I’ll go and get the doctor, Rosie. I’ll use Connie’s phone.’

I hurried back to the shop and told Connie the news. Thankfully, she had a telephone in her flat and this had proved to be such a lifeline over the years.

Doctor Bryson appeared an hour later and confirmed Ina’s diagnosis – it was measles. By now, Jay was in his bed in the room I used to share with Lily. The sun was streaming in through the small window.

The doctor immediately pulled the curtains shut and, because they were blackout curtains, the room was almost plunged into darkness. ‘You must keep the light from coming in this room,’ he said. ‘Measles can sometimes cause complications and the eyes are one thing you must keep protected. Keep him in this dark room until he feels better. Also, if you take him into the kitchen, keep the gas lamp shaded.’

Rosie was beside herself with worry. ‘What complications, Doctor?’

He closed his bag with a loud snap. ‘Measles is part of growing up, Mrs Neill – a childhood complaint that the majority of children recover from but, now and again, a few children get eye and ear complications from the disease. Also don’t let other children in the house as it’s highly contagious.’

Rosie was appalled. ‘We were at the park this morning, Doctor, and there was lots of children playing on the swings.’

The doctor smiled. ‘That can’t be helped. It’s difficult to protect children from these infectious diseases. Your little boy caught it from someone.’ On that note he left.

Rosie sat down beside the little patient who looked so quiet and ill. His beloved toy train lay at the bottom of the bed but he had shown no inclination in playing with it.

‘What did the doctor mean by complications, Ann? I hope Jay doesn’t get any.’

I had to be optimistic for her sake. ‘Och, Jay will be fine, Rosie. He’s a healthy laddie and the doctor told you the measles happens to all bairns at some time during their childhood.’

I made Rosie a cup of tea while she pulled the cover around the little prone figure in the bed.

‘Honest to God, Ann, worries never come singly, do they? First my mum falling down the stairs and now Jay being ill like this.’ She sounded so weary.

‘Would you like me to stay the night, Rosie? I can sit up with Jay while you get some sleep. Although Lily has had the measles I think I’ll let her stay with Granny. What do you think?’

Rosie looked grateful. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘No, Rosie, I don’t mind. I’ll have to go to the Overgate and tell Lily to stay with Granny and maybe Connie will give me a couple of days off.’

As it was, Connie was once again decent about me taking time off but I offered to do the early morning shift for her if she was busy.

Back in the house, Jay had become fretful in his bed and Rosie had picked him up and carried him through to the kitchen. He was lying in her arms, almost asleep when I arrived back. The curtains were shut and the room was as dim as the bedroom.

Rosie whispered, ‘We’ll have to keep the gas lamp turned right down at night and also be very quiet going around the house. The doctor did say that.’

When Jay was finally asleep, Rosie carried him back to his bed. She looked really distressed when she came back. ‘He looks very ill, Ann. I hope the complications that the doctor mentioned don’t happen to my wee laddie.’ Tears were running down her cheeks.

I went over and made her sit down. ‘Jay’s a big healthy laddie, Rosie. I suppose the doctor mentioned the bad bits because some bairns are maybe not so strong so try not to worry.’

I recalled how worried I had been when Lily took this disease but fortunately she had recovered with no ill effects.

Rosie became flustered. ‘Och, I’ve just remembered I’ve not got my messages yet.’

I put on my jacket. ‘Give me the list and I’ll go.’

I was taken by surprise when I emerged into the street. The sun was warm and bright and I was amazed how quickly I had become used to the gloom in the house.

Rosie had very little left on her meat ration so I used some of mine and bought half a pound of mince at the butcher’s shop. I then filled the bag with potatoes and turnips from the fruit shop and bought two loaves from the baker. My heart sank when I saw the large queue at the grocer’s. I had no option but to join the end of it and be content to edge slowly forward.

The two women in front of me were discussing the D-Day landings. ‘Oh, Eh hope that means the war will be ower soon, Lizzie,’ said the first woman who was short and dumpy and dressed in a brown swagger coat with a floral headsquare covering her hair.

Lizzie was a bit taller with a white podgy face and prominent teeth. Her coat was tightly belted and looked as if it could repel a snowstorm. She was also a cynic. ‘Och, Eh dinnae think so, Dot. Thae Germans are no a pushover, you ken. The allies are maybe in Europe but they were there in 1940 and look what happened at Dunkirk.’

Dot gasped. ‘Oh, Eh hope that disnae happen again – just when it looks like it’ll soon be ower.’

Lizzie gave her friend a sharp glance. ‘All Eh’m saying is this – the war will last a while langer. You mark my words!’

Thankfully, they reached the counter together and all further talk of war ceased but to say I was depressed was an understatement. Like Dot, I had also assumed the end was in sight. Still, maybe Lizzie was wrong. After all, I hadn’t seen a crystal ball in her hand.