The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow (7 page)

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Authors: Maureen Reynolds

BOOK: The Sun Will Shine Tomorrow
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‘No, I mean it – you look radiant.’

We had planned a welcome-home meal for Dad. I’d made a huge pot of soup and we had saved up our meat ration that week so that Dad could have a whole pork chop to himself.

Later, he told us about his accident. ‘We were climbing up this cliff when the rope broke and I fell on to a ledge – which was lucky for me because I would have fallen another hundred feet or so and probably been killed.’

Rosie went white. ‘Don’t speak like that, Johnny – don’t tempt fate.’

He laughed. ‘Well, I’m back home now and that’s all that matters. I expect I’ll be off work for some time but Mr Pringle has asked me back to the fruit warehouse a couple of days a week and he says it’s nothing strenuous.’

Rosie was unsure of this arrangement. ‘Should you not be resting, Johnny?’

‘Och, I’ve been resting since July, Rosie. I want to get back to work but I’ll have to leave the Caledon Shipyard. Still, John Pringle’s offer is great because I can do some paperwork for him and also give him a hand.’

Although Rosie was still unsure of this arrangement, she readily agreed. Anything to keep him happy and she also knew he would get restless being in the house all day.

John Pringle, who was Maddie’s uncle, was well known for being a good employer and Dad was glad to be going back there. Because of the war, fruit coming from all parts of the world had virtually stopped and John Pringle had had to let some of his staff go. He had promised to reinstate them when the war was over. Because of this, Dad had got a labouring job at the Caledon Shipyard. As for the Home Guard … well, it looked doubtful if he would ever be able to return there.

The following week, Lily and I moved to the flat at Roseangle. Maddie was quite happy for us to move in earlier than planned. It was a cold autumn evening when we moved in but we soon had a lovely fire in the grate and had put the kettle on for our tea.

Lily lay back on the hearthrug. ‘I love this house, Ann. When I grow up, I’m going to buy a house like this for you and me.’

I laughed. ‘What happens if you get married?’

She made a face. ‘I’m never going to get married. I’ll just stay with you forever and ever.’

I smiled and wondered what Greg would say to that arrangement. As soon as the war was over, I hoped we would get married – it was just a question of waiting.

We had our tea by the light of the fire, sitting by the window and gazing at the ever-darkening sky and the river which was tinged a grey gunmetal colour in the gathering dusk. Once again, I was struck by the peacefulness. Miles away people were being killed or captured and we were gazing at a river with its changing moods.

‘There’s one thing,’ I told Lily, ‘we’re not using Maddie and Danny’s room. I think we’ll keep that door shut as it’s their private room.’

Lily was puzzled. ‘Where are we going to sleep, Ann?’

I pointed to the sofa. ‘This is a bed settee. We can sleep on it.’

This pleased Lily. ‘Can I pull it out?’

‘Aye, you can and you can also put it away in the morning.’

Another thing I was going to do was put all the wedding presents away. Things like their crystal glasses and vases and their wedding china. I was so afraid these things would get broken, no matter how careful we were.

So I saved up all the newspapers that week and Lily and I carefully wrapped all the lovely ornaments and other wedding gifts. We placed them in a large trunk that we’d found in the lobby cupboard.

Another bonus was Hamish the stag. Lily had grown quite fond of him and she regularly hung her coat and schoolbag on his ample antlers.

I was beginning to worry about Greg who normally wrote faithfully every week but I hadn’t received my usual letter. I was beginning to think that he was ill or, even worse, that he was no longer interested in me. Still, life had to go on and I put it firmly from my mind. I was still writing to him and I gave him the new address plus all the news on the home front.

One day, we had a visit from Minnie and Peter. She was suitably impressed by the house – especially the view from the window. ‘Oh, I could gaze at that scene forever,’ she said.

Meanwhile Peter was more interested in Lily’s crayons and comics.

Minnie and I sat looking at the view and sipping tea. It was very soothing.

I asked her if she had any news of her husband but she shook her head. ‘What’s worrying me is that, if he does get some leave, he’ll not be able to find the house in Clydebank.’

‘Speaking of houses, Minnie, did you get that house next door to Bella?’

‘No I didn’t. Seemingly it was already taken when Bella mentioned it although she didn’t know that. But I have a chance of another house in the Hawkhill next month. The old woman has had to go into hospital and the rumour is she won’t be coming back to live in her house. Mum’s had a word with the factor and he says if it becomes vacant, I can have it.’ She sighed. ‘It’s not before time I can tell you, Ann. My mother is driving us up the wall with her constant nagging at wee Peter. He can’t pick up a pencil but she’s wiping the floor with a wet cloth. I spilt a cup of tea the other night and to hear her moan you would think I’d committed a murder. Mind you,’ she said darkly, ‘I might just murder her.’

Lily looked at her with alarm but, when we laughed, she looked relieved.

Meanwhile, back in the shop, Joe was still harping on about the Russian front and I think that Connie was becoming tired by all the talk of war.

‘Have you nothing cheerful to tell us, Joe?’ she asked. ‘It’ll soon be Hogmanay and we can say cheerio to another dismal year.’

Joe looked sceptical. ‘Hogmanay? That’s another five weeks away.’

Connie was unrepentant. ‘Well, I’m looking forward to it.’

Then Greg’s letter arrived and its contents filled me with delight.

I told Lily, ‘Listen to this. Greg’s managed to get a forty-eight-hour pass for the sixth and seventh of December. He’ll get the train and I’ve to meet him at the station on Saturday evening. We’ll not have very long together but it’s better than nothing. Isn’t that wonderful?’

Lily’s eyes were glowing. ‘Oh, that’s great, Ann. Will you be getting married then?’

I laughed. ‘I don’t think so, Lily – there won’t be enough time.’

I spent the following week in a frenzy of excitement. I went through my meagre wardrobe, wondering what to wear at the station. I was determined to look my best as I wanted to knock Greg over with my beauty. On the other hand, while studying my reflection in the mirror, I decided that a smart outfit would have to do the trick as beauty was out of the question.

Connie noticed the spring in my step and she was pleased for me. I knew I was fortunate to have Greg coming home, even if it was for such a short time – unlike the thousands of men in the army, navy and air force.

Connie said one morning, ‘If you don’t mind wearing something of mine, Ann, I’ve got this lovely suit I bought before the war and you’re about the same size I was then. You can borrow it if you want.’

I didn’t think I would want to do that – it was probably something frumpy. However, I also didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I said I would go to see her that evening.

Connie’s flat was in Stirling Street. The close was clean and well maintained and Connie lived on the top floor. In spite of all the wartime shortages, she had a good going fire and she made a pot of tea and a plate of toast. A small pot of marmalade stood beside this plate and I was impressed.

‘Marmalade, Connie? You must have saved up lots of coupons for that.’

She smiled and shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t buy it. I used to make lots of jam and marmalade before the war and as a result I had a cupboard full of jars. Mind you, I’m down to my last couple of jars now.’

While I was savouring the tangy taste of the marmalade, Connie disappeared into her bedroom to get the suit. I tried to compose my face so it didn’t register deep disappointment at what I thought must be a musty old costume. That’s what made my delight all the more noticeable. The suit was lovely. The deep-blue jacket and dress had a quality that wartime clothes lacked. The ‘Utility’ label was on everything now and this meant the garment was cut to the bare minimum and there were no trimmings or nice buttons – just the bare bones of the garment.

‘Go into the room and try it on – I think it’ll fit you a treat.’

It did. I fastened the large chunky buttons of the jacket and I felt so comfortable in it. And the colour was marvellous. I stood in front of the large mirror on the front of the wardrobe and surveyed myself. I was suddenly transported back to Mrs Barrie’s bedroom in the Ferry, to the day she gave me a gorgeous russet cashmere coat with the fox-trimmed cuffs and collar – the lovely coat that Hattie coveted and Miss Hood so callously burned.

I said to Connie, ‘What can I say? If you don’t mind me borrowing it for the weekend, I’d love to have it.’

Connie beamed. ‘It looks lovely on you, Ann. Greg will be bowled over when he sees you – you mark my words!’

I lived the next few days in a frenzy of anticipation, barely able to sleep at night for the thought of seeing Greg again – it had been so long.

Saturday, 6 December duly dawned and I took Lily to the Overgate as I wanted to meet Greg on my own. His train was due in at five o’clock and it would be a very short reunion because he had to catch the three o’clock train the next day. Still, it was better than no meeting at all.

I was dressed early so I decided to pay a quick visit to the Hilltown to show Rosie my new suit. I had barely reached the stairs when Dad appeared. His face was red and he was agitated.

‘Ann, thank goodness you’re here. I was going to ask Connie to get you. Rosie’s pains have started and she thinks the bairn’s coming.’

‘But she isn’t due till the end of the month, Dad,’ I said. ‘Maybe it’s just a false alarm but you better take her to the hospital as a precaution.’

He looked as if he was going to burst into tears. He wiped his face with a huge red handkerchief. ‘I don’t think I can take her to the hospital, Ann. I can’t face the place after that unhappy time when your mum died there.’ He was referring to the awful time when Mum had been taken there after haemorrhaging after Lily’s birth – that terrible night of her death.

Dad was distressed. ‘I can’t go back there. What if the same thing happens to Rosie?’

‘Can Alice go with her?’

He shook his head. ‘Rosie wonders if you’ll go with her.’

‘But I’m on my way to meet Greg at the railway station, Dad. He’s got this weekend pass and I was looking forward to seeing him again so much.’

Although outwardly calm, I was a mass of conflicting emotions. Please don’t let me miss seeing Greg, I prayed to an unknown god. Of all the days to be born, I thought – on my big day, Master or Miss Neill had decided to enter this world. Perhaps this God was taking revenge on my earlier intention of taking Lily to the Sunday School – an intention that never materialised.

Then I felt contrite. Here was I being selfish while Rosie was sitting at home alone. What were her feelings? I wondered. A lot worse than mine no doubt – having her first baby at her age.

‘All right, Dad, I’ll go to the hospital with Rosie but what about Greg?’

Dad’s face was a picture of relief. ‘I’ll meet him off the train and I’ll tell him where you are.’

We hurried upstairs where Rosie was sitting on the edge of the chair, clutching her stomach. Her face was red and covered with perspiration in spite of the cold December day. She looked so pleased to see me that I felt I’d been really selfish.

‘The pains are coming every ten minutes, Ann,’ she said as a spasm of pain showed on her face.

Every ten minutes? Did we have time to get to the hospital? I wondered?

I helped her up from the chair and managed to get her coat and scarf on.

‘Better wrap up well, Rosie. It’s a nice day outside but it’s a cold wind.’

Dad had obviously talked about his reluctance to go to the infirmary with her because she merely said cheerio.

Dad came down the stairs with us. ‘You’ll be fine, Rosie – I just know it.’

He gave her a quick hug and we set off along the road to the infirmary while Dad would be heading for the railway station.

Before he left us, he asked me, ‘Can you stay with her, Ann? That is if you’re allowed to. I know she’ll appreciate it if she knows you’re near at hand.’

Oh, great, I thought. How long did a labour last? A few hours, a few days, a week?

Rosie gripped my hand tightly and I said I would stay with her as long as she needed me.

I said, ‘Tell Greg where I am and ask if he’ll come and see me at the infirmary.’

He promised he would.

It was a journey I will never forget. Rosie had to keep stopping every few minutes to let a spasm of pain pass and I was frightened out of my wits. What if the baby should arrive here on this cold and windy winter street? I was never so glad to see the entrance to the infirmary and we made our way inside. The nurse on duty took all her particulars and led her away.

Before she left to walk along the corridor, Rosie turned to me. ‘You will wait, won’t you, Ann?’

I nodded. ‘I’ll stay in the waiting room, Rosie. Now just you think about yourself and the baby and I’ll be here.’

The nurse looked quite nonplussed. ‘Is your husband not with you, Mrs Neill?’

‘No, Nurse, he wasn’t at home but my stepdaughter kindly agreed to bring me in.’

It was a lie but I understood the reason for it. Rosie wouldn’t want the infirmary or this cool-faced nurse to think her husband was some sort of moral coward. We all knew the reason for his phobia but maybe the nurses wouldn’t understand. After all, they must be quite used to dealing with death. Maybe not every day but they couldn’t use this excuse to stay away from their duties – even if they wanted too. No, I didn’t think they would understand Dad and his fears.

I sat in the waiting room. It was beginning to fill up with visitors and, in my smart blue suit, I felt like an alien. I looked as if I got lost on my way to a wedding. I got some curious looks but on the whole most people were so absorbed or worried about their loved ones who were patients in the wards that they hardly gave me a passing glance – this smart stranger who looked like she had lost a ten bob note and found a sixpence.

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