Dreams to Sell (29 page)

Read Dreams to Sell Online

Authors: Anne Douglas

‘No need for you to do it, Ma. We'll clear up – you've done enough. I'll just put the kettle on.'

‘I think it did go well,' Flo said thoughtfully. ‘And it's done me good to have a few folk in for Hogmanay. Had such grand times in the old days, when your dad was alive.'

‘I know, Ma.'

‘That's what the war took away from us, eh? Just ordinary family do's.' Flo turned her gaze on Roz. ‘But that Evan MacGarry, just like I said, he's got an eye for you, Roz. Oh, it was that obvious tonight, seeing the way he was looking at you.'

‘Oh, Ma! The things you see!'

‘Ah, now, I shouldn't be surprised if he asks you out pretty soon, and you should go. Forget that Mr Carmichael for good.'

‘Evan won't ask me out. Even if he wants to, he'll know that I'm not ready for it. I don't want to get involved.'

As a door banged and Chrissie came in, rosy and smiling, Flo shook her head. ‘Always so stubborn, Roz. You're your own worst enemy.'

‘Are you making tea?' asked Chrissie. ‘I could do with it. Alcohol always makes me thirsty.'

She flung herself into a chair. ‘Grand little party, Ma. Thanks very much.'

‘You enjoyed it, pet?'

‘Apart from entertaining Todd.'

‘Don't worry. I shan't make that mistake again.' Flo lit a cigarette and gratefully blew smoke. ‘Oh, thank the Lord – the kettle's boiling!'

Fifty-Six

Roz was proved right – Evan did not ask her out. In fact, she rarely saw him, only occasionally meeting him on the stairs when they both came back from work, and then he was usually with Bob. Not that Roz wanted to be asked out. As she'd told her mother, she wasn't ready for another relationship, or even making a close new friend.

‘Once bitten, twice shy,' went the old saying, but she, you might say, had been twice bitten, which probably meant that she'd be more than twice shy. Content enough, in that dismal month of January, to go to work and once a week attend the art class where she and Norma would battle on with their landscapes while Tim went his own way, shovelling paint on his canvas with a palette knife.

‘We think September would be nice for our wedding,' Norma told Roz one evening. ‘Can be lovely weather then, and it'll give us time to save up. My folks are going to pay for it, of course, but Tim and me want to get our own flat. Isn't that right, Tim?'

‘Absolutely,' he agreed, screwing up his eyes and standing back to view his work, as Norma added a brush stroke or two to hers.

‘I'll do what I can, though I don't earn much,' she went on, ‘but Tim's a teacher, as you know, and he's pretty sure we can find something we can afford. Maybe you'll help us to look, Roz, you being the expert?'

‘Glad to, though I don't know about being an expert. My sister's keen to get a flat too, but she'll probably have to rent at first.'

‘It's exciting, eh, that she'll be planning her wedding, just like me?' Exciting she might have found it, but Norma's eyes were full of sympathy for Roz, poor girl, who had no wedding of her own to look forward to. But had Chrissie fixed a date yet? Norma wondered, and asked Roz.

‘Not yet. Might be the end of the year.'

‘As long as it doesn't clash with mine, because she's sure to want you as a bridesmaid, and I want you, too. You will say yes, eh?'

‘Norma, of course I will!' Roz laid down her paint brush to give Norma a quick hug while the other students looked on, smiling. ‘I'll be honoured. Thanks for asking me.'

Chrissie, in fact, was only just beginning on her wedding plans, but it went without saying that Roz would be her bridesmaid and Evan Bob's best man.

‘And maybe by the time you fix a date, Dougal will be back,' said Flo. ‘He'd like to see you wed, Chrissie.'

‘I know, Ma, but we're a long way off it yet. I'm sure he'll be back.'

Of course she wasn't sure. How could she be sure? She'd only said it to cheer Flo up, but there was no hope of Flo's staying cheered up when, only a few days later, on February the sixth, the news broke that the king had died in his sleep. Ill though he'd looked at the airport when he'd seen his daughter, Princess Elizabeth, depart with Prince Philip for a visit to Africa that should have been his, his death was still a tremendous shock to the nation, which immediately went into mourning.

People could talk of nothing else, for so much seemed to have been affected, and while deep sympathy was extended to the king's mother, Queen Mary, and his widow, Queen Elizabeth, everyone wanted to see the new queen arrive back from Africa. She was such a forlorn, sad young figure descending from the aeroplane all dressed in black, and formally greeting her ministers lined up in the cold to meet her.

What would happen now? What would it be like to have a woman for a monarch? One so young, too – only twenty-five – and completely untried. It would be like Queen Victoria's coming to the throne all over again, but look how long she had reigned! Folk could hardly get used to singing ‘God Save the King' when she'd died, but now, in 1952, the nation would have to get used to singing ‘God Save the Queen'.

Flo took the king's death very badly, seeing it as the triumph of the dark and melancholy over the light and hope of life. Just as it had been for her Arthur, so it was for the grandest in the land, and the poor Queen Mother, as the king's widow had become, must suffer as she, Flo, had done, her whole life changed.

Roz thought her mother was wrong to take such a pessimistic view of death, for if it came as the end and could cause great change to the living, it still didn't mean that life itself must be meaningless and without hope. It was all folk had, after all, and one day she knew she would be taking all she could from it again.

Her own sympathies after the death of the king went of course to his widow and mother, but she also felt for the daughters he'd left, for she'd lost a father, too, and knew what they must be going through. Both would be feeling bereft, though after the funeral the older sister would have to concentrate on her new role, which some parts of the press were already seeing as the beginning of a second Elizabethan age. Not, of course, in the eyes of Scots, who'd never had a first!

As Gerda put it to Flo on the stairs, ‘Aye, just as long as nobody tries to call the young lassie Queen Elizabeth the Second when she's in Scotland, seeing as we've never had a Queen Elizabeth the First, you ken!'

‘We'll just make her welcome, anyway,' Flo answered with a sigh. ‘She's got a lot on her plate, eh?'

‘Aye. First, there'll be the funeral to face. They say the Duke of Windsor might be there, the one that gave us all the push, and poor Queen Mary. Who'd have thought his mother would outlive the king then?'

Flo only said she must get on, that she didn't feel too well, but Gerda grasped her arm and asked her to come with her to the cinema when they were showing a newsreel of the funeral.

‘You'll no' want to miss it, Flo, and neither do I, but Todd's no' one for funerals – or royalty, come to that – so he won't come. We can go together, eh?'

‘Oh, I don't know,' said Flo, but in the end agreed to accompany Gerda, along with Roz and Chrissie. All were much impressed by the solemnity of it all – the silent crowds, the funeral music, the late king's marching brothers, including the Duke of Windsor, who'd been king himself until his abdication, as well as the three royal ladies in their mourning clothes and veils. Such pomp and ceremony, yet underneath the real grief and sense of loss they'd never seen anything quite like it.

‘But all so sad,' sighed Chrissie as they came out of the cinema and into the February darkness. ‘Whenever will things get cheerful again?'

‘Why, dear, you've got your wedding to look forward to!' cried Gerda. ‘Should think that'd be cheerful enough!'

‘And one o' these days, we'll see Dougal again,' Flo remarked. ‘I mean, I hope we will.'

‘'Course you'll see him, Ma,' said Roz. ‘That war can't last for ever.'

They were not to know that Dougal was arriving back in Scotland as they spoke, never to see Korea again.

Fifty-Seven

As soon as she picked up the letter lying on the mat at the main front door some days later, Roz knew there was something wrong. It was addressed to her mother and from Dougal – she recognized his handwriting – but it wasn't in a Forces envelope, as was usual with his letters. It hadn't come from Korea. No, this letter was in a cheap little white envelope and postmarked Glasgow. Glasgow? How could that be? Dougal in Glasgow? Impossible!

Yet, there it was, his letter postmarked Glasgow in her hand. Somehow, he must have returned. But why? Her heart beating fast, Roz went slowly up the stairs to give the letter to her mother, who would be in a state as soon as she saw it, that was for sure. And they were all due to leave for work any minute, but how could they leave for work if there was bad news in Dougal's letter? For though she had no idea what it could be and why he should be back in Glasgow without them being told, Roz was certain that this little envelope contained nothing good.

Bracing herself, she went into the flat and called her mother, who was adjusting her hat at the kitchen mirror. ‘Ma, there's a letter from Dougal!'

‘Dougal?' Flo's face lit up. ‘Give it here, then. Haven't heard from him for a while, eh?'

‘Thing is – don't get upset – it's not from Korea. The postmark's Glasgow.'

‘What?' Flo's face immediately became a mask of concern. ‘Glasgow? What are you talking about?'

‘There must be some mistake,' said Chrissie, who was already in her coat. ‘Dougal can't have sent a letter from Glasgow.'

‘Want me to open it, Ma?' asked Roz.

‘No, no, give it here, I say. I'll open it, of course I will!'

Flo was tearing open the little envelope, snatching out the one sheet of paper it contained and fearfully running her eyes over the contents. Then she looked from Roz to Chrissie and, putting out a hand, steadied herself against the table before sinking into a chair.

‘He's in hospital,' she whispered. ‘He's been sent home.'

‘He's wounded?' cried Chrissie.

‘No, he says he isn't. But – oh, God – there's something wrong.' Holding out the letter, Flo put her hand to her eyes. ‘Read it, read it! See for yourselves!'

‘Dear Ma,' the letter began. ‘Don't get upset when you see I'm in hospital. I've not been hurt – I'm fine. It's just that they think I need to come home. I can't fight any more. Please ring here and ask when you can come over. They'll tell you all about it. I'm looking forward to seeing you, and the girls. Try not to worry. With love, Dougal.'

Roz and Chrissie raised their eyes from their brother's letter and looked at their mother.

‘What does he mean?' Chrissie whispered. ‘He can't fight any more, but he's not been hurt? What's wrong?'

‘I think – I think it must be to do with the mind,' Roz said hesitantly. ‘Must be, if it's not physical …'

‘There's nothing wrong with Dougal's mind!' Flo cried. ‘There couldn't be! He's the most sane and sensible lad you could possibly find. That's a piece o' nonsense, Roz, to say that about your brother.'

‘They wouldn't have sent him home for nothing, Ma,' Chrissie said gently. ‘I mean, battle can affect soldiers, isn't that right? Didn't they used to call it shell shock?'

‘There's never been a hint of it,' Flo retorted. ‘All his letters have been cheerful – I'm his mother, I'd have known if there was anything wrong.'

‘He hasn't written lately,' Roz murmured. ‘Something must've made him stop. What we've got to do now is ring the hospital and find out when we can go.'

‘Oh, Roz, will you do that? I canna face it. Will you ring and fix it up so we can go as soon as possible? You'll come with me, eh? Both o' you?'

‘Maybe you and Roz should go for the first time,' said Chrissie. ‘The doctors will want to talk to you – they won't want three of us. I'll see him soon as you find out what's going on.'

‘As long as I don't have to go on my own,' Flo murmured. ‘Oh, I feel so bad – I don't think I can go into work today. Will you ring them and say I won't be in, Roz?'

‘Might be better if you did go in, Ma. Might help you to keep going till we find out what's wrong.'

‘No, no, I'll stay here. I'll have a cup o' tea and a cigarette and wait for you to come back from the phone. That's all I can do.'

‘I thought I'd ring up from work – they'll let me use the phone there – and it'll be easier than from the phone box. I'll come back in my lunch hour and tell you what's happening.'

‘Can we see him this afternoon, do you think? I'll not sleep a wink if I don't see him.'

‘I think we'll have to try for tomorrow, Ma. There won't be time to go today. Now, I'd better go.'

‘Me, too,' said Chrissie. ‘Oh, Ma, will you be all right?'

‘Try for this afternoon, Roz,' was all Flo would say, and with sinking hearts at the dark look on her face, the sisters left her.

‘This doesn't look good,' Roz said before they parted for their different trams. ‘Sounds to me as though Dougal has got some mental problems, whatever Ma says, and how's she going to be if he has?'

‘She might be better once she knows what the problem is,' Chrissie replied. ‘It's always worse not knowing what you've got to face.'

‘True. Let's hope we find out soon, then. See you tonight, eh?'

‘You don't think you'll be going to Glasgow today?'

Roz shook her head. ‘More likely tomorrow, when they can give us an appointment with the doctors.'

‘And then you'll see Dougal?' Chrissie's lip suddenly trembled. ‘Oh, Roz, how d'you think he'll be?'

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