A Girl Can Dream. Anne Bennett

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      It was reported that 274 synagogues had been burned and 7,500 businesses destroyed on the Night of Broken Glass and subsequent nights of violence. No details were given of the 300,000 people who had disappeared, the 91 who lay dead in the street or the 600 driven to take their own lives.

      The weeks slid one into another and Meg tried to shake off her despondent mood. None of the younger children could understand why she felt so low, and there was no need for her to frighten them with her unease about the war. Another crate arrived from America in time for Christmas, and Meg felt better about accepting the gifts now.

      After the first crate had arrived out of the blue, she’d felt she should get to know the relations that had sent them such fine and thoughtful things, and she now wrote to them regularly. She felt she had got to know them all so well: her mother’s eldest brother, Bobbie, the two younger ones, Martin and Jimmy, and her sister, Christie. She loved their replies, which were often humorous, and if she asked specific questions about her mother they never ignored them, or told her not to think about such thing like they all did in Birmingham – just as if Maeve had never existed – but would answer her questions honestly and she appreciated that.

      She even knew what they looked like now, because they had sent photographs, all of them standing with their families, looking happy and healthy, and Christie so like Maeve it gave Meg quite a jolt. She had borrowed May’s Brownie box camera to send pictures of them back and Bobbie wrote that they looked a fine bunch. Later Christie wrote asking all their sizes so Meg had guessed that they would be sending clothes. The crate contained good thick winter coats for them all, even Charlie, all beautifully made and with fleece linings. Ruth’s all-in-one this year was dark pink with lighter pink fur lining. There was also a selection of books, board games, boxes of chocolates, and a pair of silk stockings for Meg.

      By the end of January 1939 world events ceased to concern Meg as much as the foul weather, and she was immensely grateful for the new winter coats. A heavy snowfall had frozen, then further snow had fallen on top of the ice; then this had frozen, too and so on all week. It played havoc with the sports fixtures, with many events cancelled, and so, on the last Friday evening in January as they ate their dinner Charlie had said that Terry mustn’t even try to play football in the park the following morning.

      ‘Not worth it,’ he said. ‘You’d only have to fall on that frozen ground and you’d end up with a broken leg or something.’

      Instead, Terry had gone to get his hair cut, and their dad had given the younger ones money for the pictures, so Meg and Ruth had the house to themselves for once, but the children hadn’t long left the house when Meg was surprised to see Nicholas come in the door. ‘Terry’s not playing football today,’ she said, ‘because of the weather.’

      ‘I know,’ Nicholas said. ‘I spotted him going in to the barber’s and took a chance on getting you on your own.’

      ‘Oh?’

      ‘Yeah. I need to tell you something, but it’s sort of delicate.’

      ‘Can’t be that delicate,’ Meg declared, with a smile. ‘Come on, spit it out.’

      Nicholas’s expression didn’t alter, yet he didn’t answer and Meg felt the first stirrings of unease. But she was the sort of person to meet trouble head on so a little impatiently she said, ‘Come on, Nicholas, you can tell me and if you don’t do it soon Terry may well be in on top of us. Doesn’t take long to do a short back and sides.’

      Nicholas blurted out, ‘I – I … look, this is really awkward but look, I think your dad has a girlfriend.’

      Meg was flabbergasted, and extremely relieved that there was no one else there to hear words that surely couldn’t possibly be true. It was nonsense, it had to be nonsense, and that was what she told her cousin.

      He shrugged. ‘Thought it better to prepare you, like.’

      ‘Prepare me?’ Meg said. ‘Shock me, more like, coming here telling me things that are not true.’

      ‘If you say so.’

      ‘But it can’t be true.’

      ‘Look, Meg, I’ve told you something and you don’t want to believe it,’ Nicholas said. ‘There’s nothing I can do about that, so we’ll have to leave it there.’

      ‘Oh, all right then,’ Meg said impatiently. ‘What have you seen or heard that has made you think that my father is having some sort of affair?’

      ‘I overheard my parents talking about it,’ Nicholas said. ‘I was supposed to be doing my homework in the attic but I was coming down for a drink and I heard them.’

      ‘So what did they say?’

      ‘Dad said he hoped your dad knew what he was doing, messing about with the likes of Doris Caudwell. And Mom said there was no fool like an old fool, and Dad said he’s a bit of a laughing stock at the pub and that she’d set out to get her claws into him from the start.’

      Meg groaned. ‘I bet he’s a laughing stock,’ she said grimly. ‘But who is this Doris Caudwell?’

      ‘Search me,’ Nicholas said. ‘I think I’ve seen her, though.’

      ‘How have you done that?’

      ‘She met your dad from the tram the other evening,’ Nicholas said.

      ‘I thought all the men come home together?’

      ‘They do. I don’t know if she meets him regularly or how long it’s being going on or anything, because I’m not usually on the same tram, but a couple of nights ago I had a detention for not handing my homework in on time.’ And here he grinned at Meg ruefully and went on, ‘Not that I told Mom the real reason why I was late home. Said I volunteered for extra maths. As if?’

      ‘Get on with it,’ Meg said impatiently.

      ‘Yeah, anyway, Dad and Uncle Robert and your dad wouldn’t have known I was on the same tram because I was on the top deck and they were already inside when I got on but I didn’t know that and I was coming down the stairs as the tram pulled in to Bristol Street and saw this woman waiting by the stop. I didn’t take that much notice at first, but then I saw your dad seemed mighty pleased to see her, and my dad and Uncle Robert were talking to him on the pavement, sort of arguing, and didn’t see me sneak past. As I went up Bristol Passage, I looked back, and it was as if they were trying to reason with your dad, but he suddenly pulled free of my dad and went off down the road with the woman. I didn’t wait to see any more. I made for home and was in quite a bit before Dad. I reckon he and Uncle Robert were talking about it.’

      Meg was chewing her thumbnail. She knew Nicholas was right. Her father had been coming in late for a week or two now, always blaming the traffic and she had thought the traffic was going slower because of the snow and the ice.

      ‘Why didn’t they talk it over with me?’ she demanded. ‘Surely that would have been the thing to do.’

      ‘They probably didn’t want to upset you.’

      ‘It’s not them would upset me,’ Meg said. ‘It’s my dad with this sort of secret carry-on.’

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