A Distant Dream by Pamela Evans Read Free Book Online Page B

herself to be a bit tearful as the nurse wheeled her out of the ward.
    The day of the coronation of King George VI was a public holiday, so George and Henry and some other mates went to the West End to join the crowds and get into the spirit, no one in the least deterred by the cool, cloudy weather. The lads managed to catch a glimpse of the royals on the balcony at Buckingham Palace and joined in the cheering and singing. After a day in this celebratory mood, Henry wanted to finish off with a party of their own.
    ‘We need girls, music and booze,’ he declared.
    ‘And how are we going to get any of those things?’ asked George. ‘Let alone a place to have a party.’
    ‘Let’s head home and have a look at the local street parties. There might be some spare girls at one of them,’ said Henry. ‘I reckon I look old enough to get served in the bottle and jug if we go somewhere they don’t know me, and we can make do with the music in the street even if it is only someone on the piano.’
    ‘Let’s give it a try,’ said one of the group.
    ‘Yeah, all right,’ agreed George, and full of youthful exuberance, they headed through the crowds to the tube station en route for home ground.
    Betty was sitting on the front wall outside her house, bored stiff and miserable after an afternoon of entertainment aimed at the under tens: races, games and other tedious activities. What was the use of a day off work and a national celebration if you had no one to share it with? This gathering was made up of kids and old codgers; apart from the little ones, there wasn’t a soul under about thirty-five. Anyone of her age had gone to the celebrations in the West End or at least somewhere more exciting than a London back street full of children and an old man on a piano playing ‘Nellie Dean’; and now to make things even worse, it was starting to rain.
    It was at times like this that she missed May more than ever. If she hadn’t been carted off to the wilderness the two of them could have gone to a dance to find some boys and excitement. There were lots of special coronation dances on tonight. This street party was the last word in dullness. Some of the small children were getting tired and fretful. Why couldn’t their mothers take the little brats indoors to bed, for goodness’ sake, instead of inflicting their wretched whining on everyone else?
    Finding new friends after you’d left school wasn’t easy because there weren’t many meeting places, unless you liked churchy types. There were a few girls of her age working at the department store, but she didn’t seem to have anything in common with them; there wasn’t anyone she wanted to spend time with as she had with May. She and May had been friends for so long she’d never bothered with anyone else. She’d relied on her for company and now there was no one. Why did May have to get ill and leave her all alone? she thought, full of self-pity. It really wasn’t fair. Even her plan to go after George Bailey hadn’t materialised because she hadn’t been able to summon up the courage to go round to his house a second time and she hadn’t seen him around anywhere.
    ‘Betty,’ called her mother. ‘Come and make yourself useful instead of sitting there with a long face. We need some help washing the dishes, and there are sandwiches to be made for people to have with their drinks.’
    She sighed irritably. ‘All right, Mum. Just coming,’ she said, getting up and heading indoors.
    George and his pals were decidedly merry as they walked the streets of Ealing, having managed to obtain several bottles of cider from the bottle and jug in a pub in Ealing Broadway where the person serving had turned a blind eye to their youth in the interests of the pub’s turnover.
    There were several parties in progress in the area, though some seemed to be in the final stages. They had to steer clear of their own particular streets because of family disapproval of their underage drinking,