Follow Your Dream

‘Good for you, kid,’ she commented. ‘Don’t you take any notice of what Gran says. Blooming killjoy! It’s Eileen, you know. She thinks if she’s hard enough on us we won’t turn out like her.’

Light dawned in Lillian’s mind. So that was it.

‘But how could going in for a talent contest mean I’m going to run away with a married man?’

‘Search me, kid. That’s Gran, isn’t it? Grumpy old bag. I always wanted to go in for the Carnival Princess, but I never dared. I bet I would of won, too. Maybe next year I’ll go in for the Carnival Queen. That’d show them!’

Warmed by the thrill of sisterly solidarity, Lillian agreed. ‘I think you should, if that’s what you really want. Aunty Eileen said you should always follow your dream. That’s what she did.’

‘Bully for Eileen. I hope she’s enjoying herself. She was right to escape from this family,’ Wendy said.

Despite the gating, Lillian didn’t regret her actions for a minute. It was more than worth it when she relived her short spot on stage, the heady thrill of performing, and the dizzy moment when her name had been called out.

Ten days or so after the event, support came from an unexpected quarter. As the family sat round the tea table, Bob made a pronouncement. ‘I think we may have been a little hard on Lillian. After all, she did win a prize in that contest.’

Lillian gazed at him in astonishment. Her brother was sticking up for her! It was unheard of. Only Bob, with his status as the brains of the family with a respectable job, could have got away with saying such a thing. Even so, Gran did not look best pleased.

‘What, for kicking her legs up in front of a lot of strangers?’

‘But it was for the Carnival Fund. That’s a very good cause, you know. They’re building bungalows for deserving old folk. Mr Caraway supports the Carnival Fund. He said that our Lillian was a credit to us, giving her time and her talent.’

Mr Caraway was the manager at Bob’s bank, and second only to God as far as Gran was concerned.

‘Huh, well, that’s as may be. I’m sure it is a good cause, though no one ever offered me a bungalow, but it still doesn’t mean I want to hear of my granddaughter making an exhibition of herself in public,’ Gran said, unwilling to concede the point, even to her favourite.

It was only later that Lillian found out how Bob came to be championing her. Susan had written to James about it, and James had written back in her defence. Susan had then used her influence with Bob. Lillian was overjoyed. Even far away in Catterick, James had thought to come to her aid. It was practically another prize.

Chapter Seven

THERE were far better reasons for a forty-eight-hour pass than attending your sister’s engagement party, James thought as he watched the lighted windows of the eastern suburbs of London trundle by. Especially when that sister was set on marrying Boring Bob Parker. The party itself didn’t promise to be a bundle of laughs, either. His army pals had envied him his trip home, assuming that the celebration would be a big booze-up at the pub. James hadn’t told them that it was going to be Saturday tea at the Parkers’ place. Even with a cake made and iced by Susan, it was not his idea of fun. Still, family was family and Susan had insisted that the celebration be postponed until he could get leave, so here he was on the train to Southend, ready to be happy for his sister and his mother, both of whom appeared to be delighted with this turn of events. And, of course, there was the bonus of seeing Wendy again. Maybe she was an unattainable star, but he wasn’t going to give up trying.

Homecoming was always special, engagement or no engagement, and as the train passed through Leigh-on-Sea James put away his book and stared out into the darkness, trying to see the estuary. Moonlight spilled through a gap in the clouds as he gazed, making a silver path across the Thames and emphasizing the dark shapes of the boats moored in the shallows, while across on the other side the flames from the oil refineries flared like beacons. It was good to be back.

Susan and Bob were waiting for him at Southend Central. An irrational disappointment dragged at James when he saw it was just the two of them. He hadn’t expected Wendy to be with them to greet him. He hadn’t even hoped. It was Friday night and she was sure to be out with some flash bloke enjoying herself. But, all the same…He pulled himself together and strode along the platform to meet them.

‘Hello, you two! Congratulations—’ He kissed Susan’s cheek, shook Bob’s hand. ‘I hope you appreciate what a treasure you’ve got in my sister.’

‘Oh, James—!’ Susan exclaimed, embarrassed but pleased.

‘But of course I do. She’s going to be the perfect wife,’ Bob assured him.

James could believe that all right. Susan had been in training for it all her life. She was an excellent cook, even with the limited facilities they had in their tiny kitchen, an accomplished needlewoman and a fanatical housewife. And she was used to managing on a limited income. There would be no overspending in their household.

Susan threaded her arm through her fiancé’s and gazed up at him with pride.

‘And Bob will be the perfect husband.’

This James doubted. How could his sister be in love with such a dull stick? It was still a mystery to him.

‘How’s your family?’ he asked Bob, hoping for news of Wendy.

‘Oh—fine, fine, thank you. All very well. They’re looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Lillian wanted to come with us to meet you this evening! But of course it was out of the question.’

Little Lillian. James smiled to himself. That put him in his place. He hoped for Wendy and got her kid sister. Well, at least someone was pleased he was back.

All the way home, he was treated to an account of how Bob and Susan were saving up for the deposit on a house of their own. Before they had crossed the High Street, he was bored almost to tears with the minutiae of percentages and repayments and surveyors and solicitors. It all seemed so dry compared with the active challenges he had been tackling every day on his army training. It was only when they arrived at the flat that his own achievement was recognised.

‘My darling boy!’ His mother gave him a welcoming hug. She seemed smaller than when he had last seen her. He could feel the frail bones of her back.

She held his upper arms to take a good look at him, then realised what was under her fingers.

‘What’s this? A lance corporal’s stripe? You clever thing! Well done! Look, Susan, Bob—James has been made a lance corporal already!’

James gave a shrug. ‘It’s only one little step up the ladder, Mum.’

But he couldn’t help sneaking a look at Bob, who he knew had only got his stripe a month before leaving the army.

‘You’re spending your time yelling at your platoon, then?’ Bob said.

‘Oh, yes, I got my drills one and two, and my marksman’s. All helps put a bit extra in the pay,’ James said, deliberately playing it down. They both knew that not everyone got these qualifications. He had spiked Bob’s right to patronise him when it came to army service.

It wasn’t until Susan had gone off to the Parkers’ the next afternoon to help with the party food that James had a chance to speak to his mother about the engagement.

‘Do you really think Susan’s doing the right thing?’ he asked.

His mother looked at him in amazement. ‘But of course she is, darling. She’s so happy! And Bob’s such a steady chap, he’ll look after her well. They’re saving for a house of their own, you know. Bob has it all worked out—’

‘Yes, I do know.’ He had heard more than enough about it last night. ‘But is that enough? I mean, is that all you need to be happy with someone?’

‘Susan loves him, and he’ll be a good provider. Not like some young fellows these days. The things you hear about those Teddy boys! I’m afraid his brother is one of them. Now, if our Susan wanted to marry Frank, I’d be very worried, but Bob’s quite different. He’s solid, is Bob.’

So that was all that women wanted? A house and a good provider? He was sure that Wendy wanted more than that. Unbidden, into his mind came the memory of Lillian telling him of her dream of becoming a dancer. She certainly wanted something out of the ordinary. But then she was just a kid. It was different for his sister.

The celebration tea at the Parkers’ was slightly less gruesome than the one ten months ago when the two families had been introduced to each other.

After months of army food, just having a good tea was a treat for James. Now that rationing had at last ended, everyone was enjoying a more varied diet. Susan’s cake took pride of place in the centre of the table, a fluffy sponge covered with royal icing and fancy piping, with her name and Bob’s inside a sugar heart. It was resting on a green glass plate that James and Susan’s parents had received as a wedding present. Around it were jam tarts and scones, and four different sorts of sandwiches—banana, egg and cress, corned beef and ham and mustard.

‘What a feast!’ James said, and earned grateful smiles from all the womenfolk who had been involved in providing the spread.

All, that was, except Wendy. She was looking more opulent and desirable than ever in a baby-blue fluffy jumper and a grey pencil skirt.

‘Typical man, thinking about his stomach,’ she remarked. It sounded dismissive, but there was that challenge in her eyes.

‘I was thinking what a good party this is for Bob and Susan,’ James said.

His hands ached to run down her spine and over her beautiful backside.

‘We all helped,’ another voice piped up.