Patricia Burns - Follow Your Dream

‘That’s good,’ she said.

‘Seems people have got money to waste,’ Gran commented with a sniff of disapproval.

Lillian did not hang around to point out that surely it was not wasted if it came into Gran’s pocket.

It was one of the PGs who gave her away. She was bringing the toast into the guests’ breakfast room when a middle-aged man recognised her.

‘Well, if it isn’t Miss Lindy-Lou Parker!’

Lillian went cold. Gran was right behind her, making sure that the guests didn’t pocket the cruets or fill their flasks from the teapot.

‘Oh!’ the man’s wife exclaimed. ‘So it is. Oh, we did enjoy the show, dear. You was ever so good.’

‘Lovely little dancer,’ her husband agreed.

‘Lovely. Ain’t she a lovely little dancer?’ the woman asked Gran. ‘You must be very proud of her.’

Lillian could feel her grandmother’s piercing eyes on her, shrivelling her up inside.

‘Yes,’ Gran said.

Lillian knew she was only saying that to keep face in front of the guests. Sure enough, as soon as they were all safely out of the house, she was summoned to Gran’s room.

‘What’s all this about dancing?’

Lillian glared back at her, her heart beating hard.

‘I was in the Carnival Talent Contest,’ she said, her voice loud with defiance. ‘I got a prize.’

‘You went up on a stage and made an exhibition of yourself in public?’

The way Gran said it, performing on a stage was something disgraceful. Anger overcame Lillian’s fear of her grandmother.

‘I wasn’t making an exhibition of myself, I was dancing. What’s so wrong with that? And I was good; I came second out of lots of people.’

This made Gran even angrier. If there was one thing she didn’t like, it was people arguing with her.

‘Don’t you defy me, my girl. If I say you’re not to go up on a stage, then you’re not, and no questions asked. Understand?’

‘No, I don’t!’ Tears of anger and frustration were gathering in Lillian’s eyes now. ‘Just tell me what’s so wrong about it!’

‘You lied to me. Lied by sneaking out and doing it behind my back. And I won’t stand for liars. You’re a disgrace to the family—’

Gran was off on one of her tirades. Lillian stared at a point above her shoulder and tried not to listen.

‘—and you’re not too big to be punished.’

Lillian came back from the place where she had been mentally sheltering to see that Gran had the stick in her hand. With a wicked swish, it came down hard on her calves, sharp and stinging, five times. She couldn’t contain a squeal of pain.

‘There—’ Gran was looking at her with satisfaction now, breathing hard. ‘Now say you’re sorry.’

‘Sorry,’ Lillian mumbled, with huge reluctance.

‘Let this be a lesson to you. No going out for two weeks.’

‘But, Gran—’

This was a real blow. Lillian had been looking forward to going to the funfair with Janette and her other friends.

‘No buts. Go and see if your mother needs some help.’

Sore, angry and resentful, Lillian did as she was told.

To her surprise, Wendy was completely on her side. In bed that night, she wanted to know all about the contest.

‘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.

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.’