The Street of Broken Dreams Read online

  Mildred contemplated her younger brother as he went back to swallowing his tea while it was still hot. As he’d matured, he’d become more and more like their elder brother, Kit. He might not have gained a scholarship like Kit, but he was very intelligent and seemed able to understand things beyond Mildred’s comprehension. And like Kit, he’d naturally developed a more grammatical manner of speech, possibly because he, too, loved to read. The similarity didn’t end there. A lanky youth, Jake had recently started growing broader of shoulder, and his hair had lost its reddish tinge and turned a rich dark brown. Although, unlike Kit’s which had always been dark like his father’s, Jake’s hair had retained a coppery glow in certain lights. Kit would always be the strikingly handsome one, but Jake wasn’t far behind. He’d make someone a good catch, Mildred considered with concealed pride.

  ‘War’s got to end first,’ she grimaced, bringing her thoughts back to their conversation. ‘It’s a bit like being in limbo, ain’t it? We know we’ve won, but they still ain’t given in yet.’

  ‘Yes, odd feeling, isn’t it?’ Jake pulled a wry face. ‘But I reckon we’re on the brink. In Europe, anyway. Hitler’s beaten. Churchill must reckon so, or they wouldn’t be about to turn the street lighting back on. And there’s been no more doodlebugs lately. Don’t suppose there will be any more now. But I reckon things’ll drag on in the Far East for a while yet. The Japs don’t seem ready to surrender just yet.’

  ‘Well, at least they’ve never dropped any bombs on us here,’ Eva observed as she started bringing in the dinner, and father and son had a friendly race to get out to the outside lav in the back yard.

  By the time they came back in and washed their hands at the scullery sink, Eva had already served out.

  ‘Get your chops round that, then,’ she instructed.

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘Well, tell us more about this family,’ Stan said, sawing his knife through the thick skin of the trotter. ‘He’s Ron and she’s Bridie, but what did you say the kids’ names are?’

  ‘Zac and Cissie,’ Eva informed him through a mouthful of kidney. ‘And the baby’s Jane. Quite a looker, the girl, Cissie,’ she went on, catching Jake’s eye and winking at him. ‘But she’s a bit – now what word would our Kit use? Oh, yeah, I know, taciturn.’

  ‘Oh, she’s OK once you get talking to her,’ Mildred voiced her own opinion. ‘I think it’s just ’cos of what they’ve been through. Get her talking about her passion, dancing and music, and she seems happy enough to chat. That’s what she does for a living, you see. A dancer. Only she’s hurt her ankle so she ain’t been able to work for a bit.’

  ‘What sort of dancer?’ Jake asked, his sapphire eyes lighting with interest.

  ‘Variety,’ Mildred told him, eagerly anticipating his response. ‘She likes ballet best, but she does all sorts.’

  ‘Wonder if she’s any good.’

  ‘I’d’ve thought so. She’s built like a fairy, very pretty and, well, she just moves like a dancer. I thought you’d be interested,’ Mildred nodded knowingly. But then she went on with a cheeky grin, ‘Not that me little brother’s interested in girls. Never even walked out with a member of the fairer sex, have we?’ she teased.

  ‘Oh, shut up. I’m not even eighteen yet.’

  ‘I was engaged to Gary when I was seventeen.’

  ‘That was different. He was going off to war. You probably wouldn’t have got engaged otherwise,’ Jake retorted. ‘Anyway, I’ve never found a girl I was interested in.’

  Eva raised an eyebrow and was just about to break in and stop the light-hearted argument when Mildred went on, ‘Well, you might be interested in Cissie, what with you liking music and your playing and singing and everything. It’d be something you’d have in common. Sort of.’

  But Jake had already calmed down and shrugged mildly as he cut into the cube of liver on his plate. ‘Well, if she’s as pretty as you say, she’s probably got a fellow already.’

  ‘Afraid I dunno. Didn’t ask. But with most of the fellas away fighting, maybe she don’t. So this could be your chance. Your destiny!’ Mildred grinned. ‘Anyway, ain’t you curious to meet her? Might be sooner than you think, ’cos Mum offered your and Dad’s help this evening. She told them to call round if they needed it. To move furniture or whatever. Not that they’ve got much. It was lucky dear old Abraham had some decent stuff what was left. And then there was the kitchen table and beds what came with it before.’

  Eva had been eyeing cautiously the banter between her offspring, and now her gaze snagged on Stan’s. Mildred had been teasing her brother, and Eva had been wondering if she should say something to stop her doing it again? But it seemed the conversation was already taking a different tack so she didn’t need to.

  ‘Yeah,’ she joined in instead. ‘And Bridie was relieved when I told her nobody’ll be coming back for any of the stuff left in the kitchen. She could really do with it. Abraham would’ve been pleased it’s gonna be put to good use. Oh, Gawd,’ Eva suddenly gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. ‘I forgot to give her Abraham’s spare key. Be a dear and take it round after dinner, Milly, would you, if they ain’t come to ask for any help before then. And you can go with her, Jake, and offer your assistance,’ she finished triumphantly.

  Jake said nothing but turned his attention to spearing some overcooked spring greens onto his fork as casually as he could. But curiosity was frothing inside him. He rather liked the sound of this Cissie despite some of the things his mum and sister had said about her. She must enjoy music and take it seriously just as he did. Secretly, although he felt nervous about it, he couldn’t wait to meet her.

  Six

  Mildred knocked gently on the front door of Number Twelve and threw Jake a cheeky smile. Her brother had shown some reluctance to accompany her, but she knew that, deep down, he was curious about their new neighbours, especially Cissie. It always seemed odd to her that Jake was happy to play his guitar and sing for anyone – he performed once a month at the Duke of Cambridge on the corner – and yet he was actually quite reserved. But sometimes she wondered if he didn’t hide behind his not inconsiderable talent and that it gave him some small amount of confidence when he was performing.

  Her train of thought was interrupted as the door opened and Cissie herself stood there, looking as if she was ready to challenge the world. But her face softened and her mouth curved into a cautious smile as she saw her new friend.

  ‘Oh, hello, Mildred,’ she said politely, but made no move to invite them in.

  Mildred hesitated slightly. She knew the house so well, both when the Goldsteins had lived there, and before that as a child when it had been the family home of Kit’s wife, Hillie, and Eva had been best friends with Hillie’s late mum, Nell. It felt strange to Mildred not to be going inside as it was almost like an extension of her own home.

  Cissie’s just standing there made Mildred feel awkward and she was grateful that she had an excuse to have called. ‘Me mum forgot to give you this. It’s a spare key,’ she said, holding out the said item in her palm. ‘She used to look after the old couple what used to live here. But obviously she don’t need it no more.’

  ‘Oh, thanks.’ Cissie took the key from Mildred’s hand with a quick glance beyond her visitor to the youth standing behind. But she said nothing and Mildred felt she needed to prompt the conversation forward.

  ‘This is me brother, Jake,’ she introduced him, standing to one side.

  She watched the expression on Jake’s face and smiled to herself. He nodded at Cissie, his lips set in a line but his eyes bright and shining. Oh, yes. She could tell he found Cissie interesting at the very least, and he held out his hand.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said steadily. ‘You must be Cissie. Mildred’s told me all about you. Well, that is, obviously she’s just met you, too, and doesn’t really know a lot about you, either. But, anyway, welcome to Banbury Street,’ he concluded, and Mildred had to suppress a groan. Got his knickers in a twist there, d
idn’t he? Not helped by Cissie scarcely touching his proffered hand before snatching her own behind her back as if his fingers had been red-hot coals.

  Mildred felt she had to come to Jake’s rescue. ‘We was wondering if you needed any help? You know, moving furniture or something. Jake’d be happy to lend a hand, and our dad, too, if you need it.’

  She waited while Cissie’s eyes shifted indoors along the hallway behind her before turning back to the two young people on the doorstep. ‘That’s very kind of you,’ she declined politely and yet somehow evasively, in Mildred’s opinion at least. ‘But there’s heaps of other stuff to do, so if you don’t mind…’

  ‘No. Course. We understand, don’t we, Jake? We’ll let you get on. But if you need anything, you know where we are.’

  ‘Yes, thank you. And thanks for bringing round the key. It’ll save us getting another one cut.’ And so saying, Cissie all but shut the door in their faces.

  ‘So, what d’you think of her, then?’ Mildred probed as she and Jake covered the few yards back to their own home.

  Jake pulled a face as he shrugged. ‘Well, she’s really pretty, just like you said. And I can imagine her as a dancer. But she’s not that friendly, is she? Unless…’ Jake faltered, shaking his head. ‘You don’t think she’s hiding something, do you? She seemed almost, I don’t know, nervous. As if she didn’t want to let us in in case we saw something they don’t want us to see.’

  Mildred blinked at him in astonishment. Had Jake observed something that she hadn’t? Well, come to think of it, he could be right. But it proved he was interested in Cissie, and Mildred jabbed her head at him with a half-teasing, half-encouraging smile.

  ‘Well, little brother, you’ll have to work your charms on her to find out, won’t you?’ she grinned. And opening the front door to Number Eight, she skipped jauntily inside.

  *

  Cissie shut the door as quietly as she could and then, turning round, leant back against it for a moment with her eyes closed, waiting for her rattling pulse to slow. She knew they meant well, but their new neighbours couldn’t have chosen a worse time to call. She’d barely given them a glance, and of course… She’d maybe have to be a bit more careful on the next occasion she met Jake Parker. It wasn’t his fault he was a young man, after all.

  Taking a deep breath, she put the key on the hallstand that had been one of the items left in the house and scurried along the passageway to the back room and the crisis that was going on there. The day had already been too much for her father, and when Zac had dropped the tin opener on the floor with a loud clatter, the memories had come streaming back.

  Shells were exploding all around him, splattering mud in filthy, blinding showers, and his friends were falling as gunfire mowed them down, their bodies juddering as every bullet burst into their flesh and they screamed and writhed in the stinking morass. Cissie had seen photographs of the first war when she’d been at school. It must have been hell on earth to have been there. Worse. Unimaginable. Just like being trapped on the beaches of Dunkirk, or being part of the invading forces on D-Day as wave after wave of fine men were slain like sitting ducks, even if it was successful in the end. Or fighting in the desert or the jungle, on land or sea or in the air, or anywhere else involved in this second terrible conflict that looked at last, thank the dear Lord, as if it would be ending soon. But her poor dad’s own personal hell had been at Passchendaele and it would dog him for the rest of his life.

  When she opened the door, her dad was still cowering in his armchair, trembling so violently that the chair legs were clacking on the uneven quarry-tiled floor. Ron was curled up as well as he could with his false leg, his one arm and the hook folded defensively over his head. Zac was backed against the far wall, lips caught between his finger and thumb in remorse at having triggered his father’s terrors but still not really understanding although he’d witnessed it so many times before. Bridie was attempting to pacify her husband, but every time she lightly touched him, he ducked away further as if it was making things worse.

  ‘I can’t do anything with him,’ she despaired as their daughter came back into the room. ‘Can you try, Cissie, dear?’

  Cissie nodded, biting on her lip. It appeared a particularly bad episode, and sometimes when her dad was like this, they just had to wait until it passed. But it broke their hearts to watch him suffering and they always tried to coax him out of it if they could.

  As Bridie went to comfort Zac, who was mumbling tearfully that it was all his fault, Cissie dropped on her knees beside Ron’s chair, being careful not to touch him and instead uttering soothing words. ‘It’s all right, Dad,’ she crooned, her voice light and tender. ‘It was all over a long time ago. You’re home now and safe.’

  She watched and waited while his shaking eased slightly and he appeared to be paying attention. She started singing then, very softly. She knew her voice was nothing compared to the singers they had in her repertory company, but it wasn’t bad. As she began almost to whisper ‘The Teddy Bears’ Picnic’, a favourite song he’d liked to sing with her when she was younger, Ron slowly turned his head to look at his beloved daughter. She nodded and smiled at him encouragingly between breaths, and his lips twitched as he gradually joined in, and both their voices increased in volume until they reached the end of the song.

  Ron blinked his faded, watering eyes at her as they lost that faraway look. ‘Oh, dear,’ he mumbled. ‘Have I been away again?’

  ‘Yes, Dad. But you’re back with us now,’ Cissie confirmed, sympathy smouldering in her eyes.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Silly old fool. I didn’t mean—’

  ‘It’s all right, love. We’re all here, safe and sound, so we are.’

  Leaving Zac, who was also calmer now, Bridie opened her arms wide, and this time, Ron was happy to sink into her embrace. Bridie gazed over his shoulder at Cissie and mouthed a thank you at her.

  ‘Who was that at the door just then?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Oh,’ Cissie answered, since she had temporarily forgotten all about their visitors. ‘It was Mildred and her brother. Jake, I think his name is. Came to ask if we needed any help and to give us a spare key. Apparently Mrs Parker used to look after the old couple who used to live here.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. She told me, so she did.’

  ‘Well, anyway, I managed to send them away.’

  ‘And they didn’t ask—’

  But just then there was a wail from the adjoining room.

  ‘Oh, saints preserve us, there’s Jane woken up again and it’s not time for her feed yet. You’ll need to fetch her in,’ Bridie said, her arms still tightly about her husband.

  Cissie turned towards the door with an exasperated sigh, knotting her lips as she reached for the handle. They really could have done without a baby adding to their troubles. And Jane was more than half the problem, wasn’t she?

  Seven

  ‘Hey, love, have you heard?’ Stan asked excitedly, bursting into the kitchen as he and Jake arrived home from work the following Monday. ‘They say they’ve repaired the minor bomb damage to Big Ben and they’re gonna light it up tonight! First time in nearly six years.’

  ‘Yeah, I know!’ Eva beamed back, her round cheeks ruddy with joy. ‘It was on the radio. Wonderful, ain’t it?’

  Her smile broadened even further as her eyes scanned her husband’s and her son’s jubilant faces, and inside her ample bosom, her heart dared to take a little leap. Those six years had seemed an eternity: from watching her four younger children go off to live with their big sister in leafy Surrey and then the first items going on ration, through the Blitz that had raged through London as well as other cities throughout the land and the bomb that had fallen just yards from Banbury Street – making Eva believe the end had come as she and Stan huddled beneath the stairs – to the flying bombs that had once again terrorised the capital as Hitler had attempted to crush the British bulldog spirit – but without success.

  Eva knew her family
had been lucky – or maybe blessed. The nearest any of her loved ones had come to immediate danger was when Price’s had been hit. But in the end, all of her own had survived without a scratch.

  Eva had lived through two world wars, for that was what they were. Could it be that after all this time lasting peace was on its way? She scarcely dared think it and tried to quell the euphoria that was simmering inside her, just itching to erupt.

  But then Stan, her beloved Stan, stepped forward and took her hands. ‘Really looks like it could be over, don’t it?’ he said, his dear, wrinkled face serious, as if his thoughts were echoing hers. It was a time for joy, but it was also a momentous event and the solemnity of it weighed on both their souls. Eva could feel moisture collecting in her eyes as they both paused to remember. Eva had no other family, but Stan had lost a nephew early on, their son-in-law had been wounded but was now with the army in France, and Mildred’s fiancé was still fighting the Japanese.

  But just then, Jake’s voice interrupted their moment of reflection. ‘We thought we might go up to Westminster to see it,’ he announced, brimming with youthful exuberance. ‘I was just a kid last time I saw it lit up. Bound to be loads of people there. You want to come, Mum? It’ll be a moment of real history. Something to tell your grandchildren,’ he concluded with a teasing wink, since she already had five of them.

  Eva blinked at her son and the grin returned to her face. ‘Yeah, why not?’ she laughed, infected by Jake’s enthusiasm. ‘When we’ve had tea and cleared away. It’s baked spuds and a tin of baked beans. Mildred don’t finish her shift till late tonight but hers should stay hot enough in the oven even if it is turned off.’

  ‘Probably as well she can’t come,’ Jake commented wisely. ‘You know, with Gary. It’s going to be hard on everyone who’s got someone still out there, or who’s lost someone.’

  Eva and Stan exchanged knowing glances. Thoughtful was their Jake, despite his youth. An old head on young shoulders. But then he’d witnessed so much of what no man should ever have to see – let alone a young lad – when he’d been a runner for the fire brigade and ended up helping to tackle fires and rescue survivors – and the not so lucky – from collapsed buildings. Forbidden by law for someone so young, but it happened often enough, and now he was approaching the age when he could join the service officially. The fires he had dealt with hadn’t been as intense or widespread as during the Blitz, but individual flying bombs had wreaked a just as terrible destruction, only on a more confined scale. But apart from the obvious tragedies, Jake had relished the physical challenges of firefighting and the sense that he was doing good. He’d also said how he admired the knowledge and experience of senior fire officers and could see himself carving a proper career in the brigade. Whereas at Price’s, the prospects weren’t good, and he had doubts about the company’s future anyway.