Patricia Burns - Follow Your Dream

‘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.

A small part of his mind registered Lillian’s presence, but his attention was still on her sister.

‘Oh, yeah, the happy couple,’ Wendy said.

For the first time, he realised that they thought the same about something. Wendy was no more delighted with the occasion than he was but, with both their families within earshot, they could say nothing more. One thing was for sure, though—he was determined not to be outmanoeuvred at the tea table this time. He pulled a chair out and invited Wendy to sit down. To his delight, she accepted. Swiftly, he sat on the chair next to hers. Mission accomplished. His knee was just inches from hers.

The rest of the family were sorting themselves out. The older ones hadn’t changed in the time since he had last seen them. Wendy’s mum was still faded and anxious-looking, her dad still carried his dark cloud of resentment against the world, her grandmother still ruled them all. But the young people had changed. Bob looked practically middle-aged; he was even going a bit thin on top, though he was only twenty-five. Frank was sporting a DA and sideburns to go with his full Teddy boy rig of draped jacket, drainpipe trousers and brothel-creeper shoes. And Lillian—Lillian was sitting at the corner of the table furthest from him, in between her mother and grandmother. Her schoolgirl plaits were gone and in their place was a fashionable ponytail. She was wearing a white blouse and bright red cardigan with a full blue and grey checked skirt, and around her waist was one of those wide elastic belts that Wendy favoured. She would have looked surprisingly grown-up, had she not been in a huge sulk. James caught her eye and was given a glowering look. He couldn’t imagine what he had done to upset her. Why, he’d hardly spoken to her, so what could he have said wrong? He gave her a grin and a wink across the table. She went red and looked away. James gave up on her. He had more important things to do than worry about a sulky kid.

As the conversation limped along at the table, James gradually let his leg sag sideways, until his knee touched Wendy’s. He expected her to twitch her leg away in a huff but she didn’t, so James moved his foot as well, so that it was resting alongside Wendy’s. He could feel the warmth of her shapely calf against his as she talked to the others, natural as anything, not giving anything away.

When most of the food was eaten, Susan stood up to cut the celebration cake. Flushed and happy, his sister sliced into her white-iced masterpiece and handed it round the table to polite noises of admiration from everyone. James did not want to move from his delicious closeness to Wendy, but he had been planning a surprise for this moment and he didn’t want to let it pass. The Parkers might have the big house to hold this party, but the Kershaws were not going to sit there playing the poor relations, not while he could do something about it. He reached behind him for the brown paper bag he had set down by the wall.