The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow (6 page)

The table was set with sandwiches and some homemade little fairy cakes plus a small birthday cake with both Joy’s and Lily’s names piped on the top with watery-looking icing.

Lily was entranced by this and, although the cake was too small to hold ten candles, Mrs Pringle had put one candle at either end for the girls to blow out. Joy didn’t want to blow hers out so Lily got the pleasure of blowing both candles.

I overheard Joy telling her mother, ‘I’m not a baby any more – I’m ten.’

Mrs Pringle caught my eye and we both smiled while we watched the still babyish Lily, her eyes aglow and her cheeks puffed out with the effort of blowing two candles out.

Later, Maddie, Daniel and I went for a walk along the Esplanade. It was turning into another lovely evening and the river was calm and streaked with gold. Across the river we saw the houses nestling amongst the trees. A few of the windows caught the western sun which turned them into sparkling jewels.

Maddie sighed. ‘It’s hard to believe we are at war on such a lovely day as this.’

I agreed.

‘How are Granny and Rosie, Ann? It’s such a shame they couldn’t come to the party.’

‘Granny’s fine although Grandad has a bad cough. It’s his pipe smoking, Granny says, but he’ll not give it up. She didn’t want to leave him but she would have come if he had been feeling better. As for Rosie … well, what can I say? She’s still the same and we’re counting the days till Dad gets back.’

Maddie stopped and gazed at Daniel who was fast asleep in his pram. ‘She’s been very unlucky to still have this sickness. I was well over it by three months, thankfully.’

‘Rosie is four months now and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop. Poor soul.’

We walked back to the house. Hattie had gone and Mrs Pringle asked if Lily could stay the night with Joy. They both wanted to paint.

‘I haven’t brought a nightdress, Mrs Pringle,’ I said.

Maddie’s mum said that wasn’t a problem. ‘We’ll find something for her to wear, Ann. We’ll bring her home tomorrow morning before we go to the church.’

I wouldn’t hear of them putting themselves out. ‘Oh, no, Mrs Pringle, I’ll come and fetch her.’

So it was arranged that I would collect Lily at the church which was the same church that Maddie was married in, St Andrews at the foot of the Wellgate.

As I walked home, I thought Mrs Pringle would think we were heathens. We didn’t belong to a church so I made a mental note to take Lily to Bonnethill Church which was a mere hundred yards from our house. She could join the Sunday School and, quite honestly, I knew of a lot of people in my life who could use a few prayers. As I walked towards the house, I was glad I had made that mental commitment. I would ask Lily and, if she agreed, we would go next Sunday.

Rosie was crying when I got in and a letter was hanging from her white fingers.

My heart sank. ‘Rosie, what is it?’ My voice sounded harsh with worry.

She looked at me, her face puffy, her eyes red-rimmed with crying. ‘I got this letter today. It’s your dad – he’s had a bad accident and he’s in hospital in Kirkwall.’

I thought I was going to be sick but Rosie beat me to it. I took the letter from her lifeless fingers. Written by one of Dad’s friends, it was quite short and read:

Dear Rosie,

Johnny fell down a cliff on Thursday and has a suspected fractured skull which means he’ll be in hospital for a while. He won’t be coming home with the rest of us but the doctor is keeping an eye on him. Ann will look after you till he gets home.

Love J

(Written for Johnny by Bill)

Rosie was back at my side. ‘What does a while mean, Ann? Is that weeks or months?’

I gave her a hug. ‘Och, he’ll be back soon so don’t worry, Rosie.’

She looked relieved and I felt guilty. ‘It’s not like we can go and visit him, Ann – he’s hundreds of miles away.’

I agreed. ‘You’ll just have to keep in touch by letter, Rosie – at least for the next few weeks.’

The lovely day I had spent with Maddie and the Pringles was now just a memory. And why was I reassuring Rosie when I hadn’t a clue how long Dad would be lying in hospital? Crystal Ball Annie again – when would I ever learn?

It was mid August when Rosie woke up one morning and she wasn’t sick. We thought it was a fluke but, when a week went by without the terrible feelings of nausea, she began to look forward to the future.

‘I can’t believe it, Ann – I feel super.’

I had to admit she looked it. Her skin had a youthful bloom and her hair, which had been so limp and lifeless, was now thick and shiny.

Even Lily noticed the difference. ‘Rosie’s looking beautiful, isn’t she, Ann?’

Indeed she was. She also regained some of her old energy which manifested itself in a burst of house cleaning which both surprised and delighted me.

Still, there was one blot on her new horizon – Dad. He was still incarcerated in a hospital in Orkney and, although the skull fracture had been diagnosed as a hairline fracture, he was still recuperating. Rosie was beside herself with worry. As the days passed, she became more fretful and I began to worry about her. I couldn’t believe we had finally got rid of one worry only to be confronted with another one.

She said, ‘I wish he could get home to recuperate. He’s miles away with no visitors.’

Maddie came to tea on the Sunday and, while I was setting the table, Rosie was telling her all the worry over her husband. ‘What a pity he couldn’t get transferred back here, Maddie. It would make such a difference to us all.’

Maddie nodded sympathetically and Rosie seemed to cheer up. ‘Still, I’m not as badly off as you, Maddie. At least Johnny isn’t in a prisoner of war camp in some foreign country. Mind you, as far as I’m concerned, with all the restrictions on travel, he might as well be in a foreign country – after all, Orkney is practically in Norway.’

That wasn’t true but Maddie hid her smile. She knew Rosie was unhappy about her husband’s health.

Later on, as Maddie and I walked back along the road, she said, ‘I think I’ll ask the Red Cross if they can help to get your dad home. Maybe if there’s another training group coming up then your dad could get a lift in their transport.’

I was overcome with gratitude. ‘That would be great, Maddie – especially for Rosie. She’s just got over one hurdle and now she’s faced with another one.’

Maddie said she would help all she could and she hurried towards the house to see to Daniel. Her mother was looking after him to give her a couple of hours off.

I didn’t mention Maddie’s suggestion when I got home. After all, it was only a thought and Maddie’s plan might not succeed. There was no sense in upsetting Rosie. I didn’t want her getting her hopes up only to be dashed at the last moment.

Rosie decided to buy a maternity smock. ‘Just something bright for when Johnny comes back,’ she said.

I went with her to Hunter’s department store in the Wellgate. It was a lovely hot summer afternoon at the end of August. We were glad to be out of the heat and inside the cool, dim interior of the store. Long wooden counters ran the full length of the walls and everything was hushed. It was like being in a cathedral.

I spotted Kathleen at the far end of the hosiery counter. She didn’t see us but I decided to try to see her before leaving.

There wasn’t a huge selection of smocks due to the wartime shortages but Rosie didn’t seem to mind. She had spotted the one she wanted right away. It was a lovely deep-blue cotton one, very plain but it suited her complexion and also made her seem slimmer.

The assistant put the money in a small tin canister and pulled a wire. The container then shot across the store to the cash desk before returning with Rosie’s change.

We made our way towards the front door but I still wanted to see Kathleen. I stopped. She was deep in conversation with an elderly man who looked very aristocratic with his well-cut and expensive clothes. He had a small, well-trimmed white beard and he looked like the late George V.

Rosie stood waiting for me but I didn’t want to interrupt Kathleen’s conversation so we left.

‘Who was that man talking to Kathleen?’ asked Rosie. ‘He’s really handsome in an old kind of way, if you know what I mean.’

I was thinking the same but at the back of my mind I felt I knew him. I just couldn’t think where or how I knew him.

We stopped at the grocer’s shop to get the weekly rations and were dismayed to see a large queue.

Rosie gave a huge sigh. ‘I wish we were back in the days before the war when there wasn’t all these queues. And this smock cost me some of my coupons which I’m trying to save up for when the baby comes. He or she will need baby things and I’ll have to start again from scratch. Quite a lot of the families in the street have other children which means they’ve lots of cast-offs but we don’t have anything like that.’

That was true. Lily was born in 1931, ten years ago, and all her baby clothes had long since vanished, cannibalised to make something else from the wool and material.

I kept thinking about Kathleen and the man. They had looked very intense in their conversation. The man’s identity still eluded me although the more I thought about it, the more I realised I knew him. It was just before falling asleep that night that I remembered where I had met him – Maddie and Danny’s wedding.

He had been the photographer and a high-class one at that. He had his studio in a posh-looking, stone building at the foot of the Perth Road. He didn’t have a window full of photographs extolling his wares. No, all he had was a well-polished plaque with his name and occupation. He didn’t quite say he was a photographer to the rich but he was very high-class and, whatever it was that he wanted with Kathleen, she was seemingly considering it – at least I thought so judging from the look of concentration on her face.

Now that Rosie was blooming with health, Lily and I were eager to get into our new abode – Maddie and Danny’s flat. Lily was forever speaking about it and I had to warn her, ‘You’re not to keep speaking about it, Lily – especially in front of Rosie as we can’t leave her till Dad gets back.’

The next morning in the shop, Joe was doing his usual commentary on the German Army’s trek into Russia. His face would beam every morning when he read the headlines. ‘Aye, they’ll have to retreat when the winter comes in,’ he said. ‘The Jerries will find it’s no picnic in Moscow.’

Personally, I was growing weary of the war and all the queuing for food and the never-ending problem of making meals with fewer and fewer ingredients. In fact, there had almost been another war at the butcher’s shop that afternoon when one customer had discovered her whole meat ration was used up for that week.

‘How am I supposed to feed my man and three hungry bairns if I’ve no meat coupons left?’ she hollered in front of a dozen women who all agreed with her.

The butcher looked embarrassed but said there was nothing he could do. ‘You’ll just have to make a big vegetable pie with loads of tatties,’ he said. His unhelpful suggestion was met with a dozen scornful remarks.

‘A vegetable pie with no carrots or onions – just neeps and tatties? What kind of a meal is that for a growing family?’

A wee woman at the back came up with a suggestion. ‘I always flavour my chunks of turnip with Bisto and it looks like chunks of steak.’

The butcher looked relieved. ‘There you go, then. What a great tip.’

The customer gave him a withering look and he retreated to the back shop before coming back a moment later with three slices of corned beef.

‘There you are, missus. I’ll let you have this from next week’s coupons and don’t say I’m not good to you.’

Of course everyone in the queue wanted some corned beef as well and, when I left the shop, the butcher looked shell-shocked.

I knew life was difficult for everyone – shopkeepers and customers alike. I was used to hearing snippets of conversation from the women who came into the shop.

‘It’s all right for some folk who get more than their fair share. It’s not coupons that counts but who you know.’

Well, we all knew that was true. A thriving black market existed but, like all illegal things, I often wondered if it suffered from myths and exaggeration. After all, we were always hearing about someone who got an extra bag of sugar or butter or sweeties but it was never anyone we knew. It was always this mythical person – the person who knew all the sources and had the money to buy these illegal items.

Then, at the end of the month, Maddie arrived at the house with great news. ‘Mum was asking at the Red Cross about your dad and the wonderful news is that a training group is going to Orkney next week. If your dad is allowed out of hospital, they’ll bring him back.’

Rosie was visiting her mother but, when she heard the news, she was overcome with excitement. So much so that I had to make her lie down to recover.

Maddie warned her, ‘Of course, it’s not fully settled yet, Rosie, but Mum thinks the group will go. Then you have to consider that the hospital may not let Mr Neill out. It all depends on how well his injury has healed.’

I was immediately brought back to earth. There were so many ifs and buts but Rosie refused to be deflated. In her mind, Dad was already home.

As it turned out, the training group was held up for another week but they eventually set off. Dad then told Rosie the hospital was reluctant to let him go but they would if the transport was suitable.

I confided in Connie. ‘I just hope Rosie’s not disappointed. Army convoys are usually bone-rattling trucks and the hospital won’t let Dad out in one of those.’

Connie said I should look on the bright side. ‘Och, well, even if he doesn’t get home straight away, at least Rosie is keeping fine now and her time is going in.’

It certainly was and I couldn’t believe how fast the year was flying by.

Dad arrived home on a misty Sunday in September. Much to his disgust, he was carried upstairs on a stretcher. As soon as the two stretcher-bearers left, he got up and walked through to the kitchen.

He looked at his wife in disbelief. ‘Rosie,’ he said, ‘you’re looking beautiful.’

Rosie blushed like some love-struck sixteen-year-old. ‘Och, away you go, Johnny!’