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Authors: Anne Doughty
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fortunate at the beginning of 1945.
It was with peace already in sight that Jimmy had his accident, as he worked on a plane that might never be needed. No one ever worked out exactly what happened. Jimmy remembered only that his feet went from under him and the next thing he knew he was in hospital. It was likely that engine grease had been the cause of his fall. There shouldn’t have been engine grease on that scaffolding, but if it was there and Jimmy was concentrating on the job as he moved slowly along the fuselage, he certainly wouldn’t have seen it. There was a long argument about compensation which was never resolved. Jimmy was on his back for two months at Musgrave Park Hospital and in too much pain to join in the Victory celebrations.The doctors admitted that he would seldom be without pain for the rest of his life.
That, Polly decided later, was the beginning of her own bad time. After Jimmy’s accident, life had been understandably harder and Polly felt it more than all the other hard times she had endured. But when Ellie died, it seemed as if this was the final blow. She felt that the loss of the one bright star that had always shone in her sky, even if she seldom had the opportunity to go out and look at it, was the one thing too many. The rest she could bear. She could struggle with dirt and poverty, hard times and fractious children, sudden grief, illness and the misery of pain and weariness, but for Ellie to be taken away was for the light to be shut off. She had no wish whatever to live in the darkness that followed.
Ellie had been the pretty one in the family and she had a sweetness of nature that matched her soft looks. Polly had loved her younger sister more than either of her other sisters or her two brothers. From the moment the news of her death came, it never occurred to her to do anything other than to make a home for Clare, for Clare was dear Ellie’s child and had something about her of her mother, though she was a far more robust and lively child than Ellie had ever been.
She was anxious about separating the two children, but she had guessed that the Hamilton’swould feel it their duty to care for their grandson and she was grateful when her brother-in-law had told her of their decision. She had always found William a difficult child to love, and while she could imagine being able to treat Clare as her own child, she was honest enough to admit that she was unlikely to manage it with William.
The death of her favourite sister would have been disaster enough for Polly, but that heartbreak came at the end of a long series of other sad and unhappy events in her life. In May of that year, 1946, Jimmy, who had held down the job at the Bakery since the Christmas of 1945, had been listed for an early morning shift. He had protested that there were no buses on his route at that hour, but when his protests were ignored, he’d got out his ancient bicycle and cycled to work. It was only a couple of days before his back played up. The doctor had given him a sick note and the Bakery had given him his cards.
Polly’s relief when Davy got a new and better-paid job only a week later was short-lived. When he brought home his first pay packet, he said he could only afford two pounds a week for his keep because he was now saving up to get married. When Eddie heard that Davy was paying only two pounds a week he wanted to know why he should pay more. He was saving up for a bicycle so that he could look for the better jobs out onthe new industrial estate where there were no buses at all yet.
Only Ronnie, who seemed to take after the more kindly-natured Scotts and not the generally hard-headed McGillvray’s, came to her with his five shillings a week from his paper round and asked if he could give her a hand with anything.
She refused to take his money, knowing full well he needed it to buy the books the school couldn’t afford to provide, but his generous act made it even harder to bear the selfishness
It was with peace already in sight that Jimmy had his accident, as he worked on a plane that might never be needed. No one ever worked out exactly what happened. Jimmy remembered only that his feet went from under him and the next thing he knew he was in hospital. It was likely that engine grease had been the cause of his fall. There shouldn’t have been engine grease on that scaffolding, but if it was there and Jimmy was concentrating on the job as he moved slowly along the fuselage, he certainly wouldn’t have seen it. There was a long argument about compensation which was never resolved. Jimmy was on his back for two months at Musgrave Park Hospital and in too much pain to join in the Victory celebrations.The doctors admitted that he would seldom be without pain for the rest of his life.
That, Polly decided later, was the beginning of her own bad time. After Jimmy’s accident, life had been understandably harder and Polly felt it more than all the other hard times she had endured. But when Ellie died, it seemed as if this was the final blow. She felt that the loss of the one bright star that had always shone in her sky, even if she seldom had the opportunity to go out and look at it, was the one thing too many. The rest she could bear. She could struggle with dirt and poverty, hard times and fractious children, sudden grief, illness and the misery of pain and weariness, but for Ellie to be taken away was for the light to be shut off. She had no wish whatever to live in the darkness that followed.
Ellie had been the pretty one in the family and she had a sweetness of nature that matched her soft looks. Polly had loved her younger sister more than either of her other sisters or her two brothers. From the moment the news of her death came, it never occurred to her to do anything other than to make a home for Clare, for Clare was dear Ellie’s child and had something about her of her mother, though she was a far more robust and lively child than Ellie had ever been.
She was anxious about separating the two children, but she had guessed that the Hamilton’swould feel it their duty to care for their grandson and she was grateful when her brother-in-law had told her of their decision. She had always found William a difficult child to love, and while she could imagine being able to treat Clare as her own child, she was honest enough to admit that she was unlikely to manage it with William.
The death of her favourite sister would have been disaster enough for Polly, but that heartbreak came at the end of a long series of other sad and unhappy events in her life. In May of that year, 1946, Jimmy, who had held down the job at the Bakery since the Christmas of 1945, had been listed for an early morning shift. He had protested that there were no buses on his route at that hour, but when his protests were ignored, he’d got out his ancient bicycle and cycled to work. It was only a couple of days before his back played up. The doctor had given him a sick note and the Bakery had given him his cards.
Polly’s relief when Davy got a new and better-paid job only a week later was short-lived. When he brought home his first pay packet, he said he could only afford two pounds a week for his keep because he was now saving up to get married. When Eddie heard that Davy was paying only two pounds a week he wanted to know why he should pay more. He was saving up for a bicycle so that he could look for the better jobs out onthe new industrial estate where there were no buses at all yet.
Only Ronnie, who seemed to take after the more kindly-natured Scotts and not the generally hard-headed McGillvray’s, came to her with his five shillings a week from his paper round and asked if he could give her a hand with anything.
She refused to take his money, knowing full well he needed it to buy the books the school couldn’t afford to provide, but his generous act made it even harder to bear the selfishness
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