The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow (36 page)

Oh, my God, I thought, what could I do?

Then the answer came in a small voice in my head. The answer was nothing. I would have to grit my teeth, swallow my pride and listen with feigned interest to the married lives of Greg and his wife.

Lily was darting around the flat like a little bird, packing last-minute things for our journey. She saw me standing by the window.

‘Have you packed everything, Ann?’

Without turning, I nodded.

She stopped in the middle of the floor. ‘If you don’t want to go, then that’s fine by me, Ann.’ She sounded concerned.

I turned round and smiled at her. ‘Of course I want to go. What gave you that idea? I was just admiring the view from the window – as always.’

She came and stood beside me. ‘It is lovely, isn’t it? And it’s all ours.’

Lily had been so excited when the sale of the flat was finalised. I had one small niggling worry. I couldn’t help thinking about Dad, Rosie and Jay in their small stuffy flat on the Hilltown with its view of pavements and shops. It was not at all like our airy corner with its river views. Still, putting these thoughts aside, I went into the bedroom and carried out my small suitcase and put it on the rug beside the fireplace.

Lily got up from the chair. ‘Well, are we ready to go, Ann?’

I nodded again. ‘Yes.’

Lily gave me a look as if she was puzzled by this monosyllabic response from me so I gave her a smile and made a huge show of picking up my suitcase and handbag – an effort that seemed to reassure her.

The train station was busy but it was really no wonder – after all, it was July and people were either going off on their summer holidays or just for a day out. The platform was thronged with people and Lily kept looking down the railway tracks as if, by constantly surveying them, the train would somehow magically appear. I recalled with a smile that this was something she had always done. Personally I hoped that the train had maybe broken down between its last station and here but my mental prayer wasn’t answered because it appeared soon after our arrival. It steamed into view like one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Within the next few hours, we would be at Trinafour and the Borlands’ house, making small talk about the various members of both families.

Lily, however, was full of excitement. She had managed to squeeze in beside a large woman and an equally portly man while I got a seat across from them. Lily winked at me and I had to stifle a laugh as she looked so comical between the two plump people. Then, fortunately for us, two passengers got off at one of the small stations on the line. After that, we were each able to get a window seat and we gazed at the passing scenery on that hot July day.

‘I hope the weather stays like this,’ said Lily, fanning her face with a copy of a newspaper. ‘It’ll be great to be in the country if it’s this warm.’

To be honest, I couldn’t have cared less about the weather. I would just be glad when this ordeal of a weekend was over but I just smiled at her and nodded.

The train puffed its way past green fields. As it left the industrial landscape behind, much to my amazement, I began to relax. There was something soothing about trees and greenery.

We had to change trains at Perth and we sat on the platform for thirty minutes until our connection arrived. Then, with a great deal of pushing and shoving of luggage into the overhead compartments and getting a seat again, we were on our way on the final stage of the journey.

Mr Borland was meeting us at Struan station and he would take us the few miles to the farmhouse. Knowing this, it was still a surprise when we reached our destination to see him standing beside a smart grey van.

Lily ran up to him. ‘You’ve got a new van, Mr Borland. When did you get it?’

He gave her a smug-looking smile. ‘Just a few weeks ago, Lily, but it’s come in handy for your visit.’

He took our suitcases. ‘It’s nice to see you again, Ann. You’re looking well.’

I was surprised. Was I looking well? He wouldn’t have said it if it hadn’t been true.

He then turned to Lily who had always been a great favourite of his. ‘My, what a big lassie you are now, Lily! And you’re away to art college soon?’

She nodded happily and, at that moment, I envied her. She was starting out on her life and everything was always such a joy to her. If only I could say the same – that everything was joyous.

This new van had seats in the rear and Lily scrambled into one of them while I climbed in beside Dave.

‘I like your new van, Mr Borland,’ said Lily. ‘But I miss sitting on the cushion in the back.’

She was referring to his previous van which only had two seats and a cushion in the back for a third passenger or maybe the dogs.

‘I had to get another van, Lily, as the last one almost disintegrated with rust. Still, I had some good years out of it so I’m not complaining.’

The road was just as twisty as I recalled it and it seemed more than six miles to the rough track that led to the farmhouse. Because of the dry weather, dust thrown up by the wheels flew in through the open windows.

‘I’ll be glad to see some rain,’ he said. ‘It’s been such a dry spell for a few weeks and everything will get parched if this keeps up.’

I looked out of the window and the hills looked green. The fields where flocks of sheep could be seen grazing looked quite lush to my eye but I wasn’t an expert on farming.

Then we were at the back door of the farmhouse and Babs was standing waiting for us. She had a white apron over her dark-coloured floral dress and she smiled when she saw us.

‘Come away inside. I’ve got the dinner ready for you as I know you’ll be hungry.’

Lily said she was starving and I apologised. ‘Lily hasn’t changed, Babs – she still loves her food.’

Babs gave her a quick look-over. Standing in front of her, she said, ‘You’re so much taller since we last saw you, Lily. You’re all grown-up and about to go into the big wide world.’ She turned to me and I noticed her eyes were wary. ‘Ann, you haven’t changed much I have to say but you’re looking really well.’

I smiled. That was two statements of how well I was looking so things must be improving, I thought. Was I getting over Greg?

Lily and I had the same attic bedroom as before and we carried our suitcases up the narrow wooden staircase.

Lily sat on the bed and sighed. ‘Oh, I love this room, Ann, with its sloping roof and window overlooking the hills.’

‘Don’t forget the owl!’ I warned and she laughed.

I had to admit, it was a lovely little bedroom but I couldn’t forget that, on previous visits years ago, Babs had said it had been Greg’s room. His belongings were no longer there, however, and it could have belonged to anyone. All the character and soul had been removed along with him.

The dinner was substantial as usual. Home-made soup, steak pie and apple crumble. I felt I would never be able to move again. We were lingering over a cup of tea, chatting about nothing in particular and I felt we were all skirting around any mention of Greg.

Dave said that the hydroelectric company had begun to build dams and power stations over at Tummelbridge and Pitlochry. ‘The days of the oil lamps will soon be over. Then we’ll all have electric light.’

I wasn’t quite sure if he was pleased about this new technology or sad.

Babs asked me about the flat. I had mentioned it in my last letter.

I was able to chat about this non-taboo subject. ‘We’ll need a bit more furniture and household items but we’re getting things slowly. I managed to get a sideboard and two fireside chairs. They’ve got the utility mark on them so they’re a bit plain although well made.’ Still, if Danny was to be believed, the day would soon come when everything was readily available and generously made.

‘And what about Maddie and Danny’s twins? How are they?’

Before I could answer, Lily said, ‘Oh, they’re bonny babies. They’ve got three boys now and Rosie and Dad have Jay so that makes four boys. When Joy and I were born we were called the Sunday girls by Mrs Pringle. Ann and Maddie and Joy and I were all born on a Sunday so that’s how we got our name.’

Babs smiled. ‘I know, I’ve heard that description before and now it’s four boys. Were they all born on a Sunday as well?’

Lily had to think about this. ‘No, I don’t think so. So we’re still the Sunday girls, aren’t we, Ann?’

I nodded and told Babs about Hattie and Graham and Chris and Kathleen and the sad saga of Sammy and Jean Martin. In fact, I felt I was babbling on and on like some gossipmonger but Babs didn’t seem to notice. She seemed glad to hear all our news.

It was almost teatime when I ran out of subjects to talk about and I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. Babs had asked about my family and I hadn’t even mentioned Greg.

My mouth was dry and when I spoke I thought my voice sounded squeaky. ‘Greg. How is he Babs?’

She looked a bit embarrassed but we both knew we couldn’t skirt around the subject of her son all night.

‘He’s fine, Ann. He’s working in a library in Oxford just now.’

I was so taken aback. ‘Oxford … that’s great.’

She nodded. ‘He went to London after Bletchley Park but, when this job came up, he applied for it and got it. He loves it.’

I took a deep breath and felt my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth. ‘And his wife … does she like it there?’

Babs looked surprised. ‘Oh, I thought you knew, Ann. He hasn’t got married yet – the wedding will take place in four months’ time.’

It was now my turn to be surprised. ‘Oh, I thought he got married just after the war.’

‘No. The girl, Daisy, came from London and she lost her mother in one of the buzz bomb raids. That happened while they were at Bletchley Park and the wedding was postponed. Still, it’ll be in Oxford in four months’ time. Dave and I are going down for it.’

I felt a blackness behind my eyes and I didn’t think I would be able to get through this weekend. Now that I’d heard Greg was still not married, I wondered if I would have been better prepared if he had indeed got married during the war or just after.

Fortunately we all went for a walk after our substantial tea and the evening was almost over. There was just the next day to get through and then we’d be going home the following day – back home to cry my eyes out and nurse my grief in private. Why, oh, why had I agreed to come here in the first place? Babs was as embarrassed as I was and I should have made up some excuse ages ago.

Later, in the glow of the lamplight, Dave and Lily played cards while I sat beside Babs as she knitted what looked like a huge brown jumper.

‘You managed to get away from the shop all right, Ann?’

‘Yes, I did.’ A happy thought appeared in spite of my glum feelings as I recalled Connie and Joe tackling the early-morning papers. I had helped out for a couple of hours in the morning but how had they coped with the evening papers? And what about tomorrow’s?

‘It’s nice to see you smile, Ann,’ said Babs.

I felt myself blush – I hadn’t realised I had smiled. ‘I’m just thinking about Connie and Joe. They were snapping at one another this morning when I left and I was wondering how they’ll cope tomorrow. Connie likes everything done her own way but so does Joe. It’s a case of two bosses and no workers.’

Babs laughed and I felt the tension disappear. Was I the only one feeling embarrassed? Dave and Lily were having a friendly argument over some of the cards and they didn’t look embarrassed. And Babs was bent over some intricate part of her knitting pattern. I was the only one who felt out of place. Almost as if I’d moved to outer space and found the natives so busy while I twiddled my thumbs and worried about events that were now past history.

Then it was bedtime. Thank goodness, I thought. Now I could stop pretending to be cheery and fancy-free.

Lily tucked herself up in the comfy bed and pulled the patchwork quilt up to her chin. ‘Dave’s taking me up the hill tomorrow. We’re bringing the sheep down to the pens.’ She was full of excitement at the thought of this hard work and outdoor air. ‘What will you do, Ann?’

I was taken aback by her concern. ‘Och, I’ll help Babs in the kitchen and maybe go for a walk later. I’ve no firm plans.’

Satisfied with this ambiguous answer, Lily fell asleep almost at once but I was far from sleep. I sat at the window and looked at the deeply-shadowed hill. Small white pockets of mist hugged the gullies and it promised to be another fine warm day tomorrow.

Lily had wanted to know what I would do the next day. I didn’t know that and I wasn’t sure about the next week or the years ahead. I felt so alone and down. What did life hold in store for me? Especially once Lily left home. I could only see years of emptiness ahead of me. I tried hard to snap out of this feeling of self-pity. I was a reasonably young and healthy woman with my own flat. Thousands of people would envy me so why was I moping?

I went over to my suitcase and rummaged down the side, finally bringing out the small leather box that held my engagement ring. I had kept it after Greg had broken off the engagement but I knew I had to return it. That was why I had brought it with me. I would give it to Babs before leaving and she could do what she liked with it. Either give it back to Greg or throw it away. Either way, I didn’t care, did I?

I didn’t sleep very well. My mind was full of jumbled up dreams that were disturbing. I was glad when the sun rose and I was able to get up.

The kitchen was very quiet and empty when I went downstairs. I looked around for a suitable place to leave the ring and had just made up my mind that the small space between the plates on the dresser was the best place. I had the box in my hand when suddenly I heard Babs coming down the stairs. In a panic I shoved the box in my skirt pocket.

She said, ‘You’re up early, Ann. Let me put the kettle on and we’ll have a quiet cup of tea before the other two come downstairs.’

I dreaded having a quiet tête-à-tête with her, much as I liked her. Then, to my relief, Dave came bounding into the kitchen, followed by Lily.

‘I thought I’d take Ann and Lily for a wee run before gathering the sheep, Babs – let them see the new hydro scheme.’