by Ellie Dean
He tramped homeward, at peace with the beauty and tranquillity of these hills, glad that he could come here and be at one with them, for they soothed away the cares of this troubled world and made him feel whole again.
Julie was a keen letter-writer and looked forward to the replies from Lily and the other girls back in London, although they did make her homesick for the happy days they’d all spent working and living together, and the familiar sights, scents and sounds of the city she loved. Yet it was fun to catch up on the gossip, to read all about Lily’s latest boyfriend and Alison’s continued rebelliousness, which still got her into scrapes with Matron. They seemed to be coping cheerfully with the continued raids, even though most of the hostel’s windows were boarded up now, and there was a crater where the neighbouring house used to be.
She folded the letter she’d received from her oldest brother and put it away in the box she kept in her wardrobe. All three brothers wrote regularly, even though there was often a delay in their letters getting to her, but despite her having written several times to Bill, there had still been no reply.
She sat in the early sunlight streaming through her bedroom window, and lovingly watched William as he lay on a blanket on the floor and floundered in his attempts to get his arms and legs co-ordinated enough for him to crawl. Bill’s lack of response had worried her before, but now she’d come to think it might be for the best. William was, to all intents and purposes, her baby now and she loved him deeply. He was still less energetic than Rose and slept a great deal, but he was beginning to thrive, and although the day might come when he’d have to have an operation, he was safe and well and contented with her – and she couldn’t imagine life without him.
Her starched apron crackled as she bent to lift him from the blanket. Holding him close, she kissed his soft cheek and ran her fingers softly through the golden curls that glinted in the sun. She hated leaving him, but she had no choice.
‘Mummy’s got to go to work,’ she murmured as he gurgled at her and made a grab for her flowing cap. She kissed him again and carried him downstairs, aware that she was in danger of being late at the surgery.
Anne was in the kitchen, her plastered leg resting on a footstool, her crutches leaning against her chair as she fed Rose. She looked up at Julie and smiled. ‘This will be the last morning I’ll be tied to the house,’ she said cheerfully, ‘and I can’t wait to get this plaster off. It itches like mad.’
Julie chuckled as she put William in the playpen and handed him his favourite soft toy. ‘That’s where Mrs Finch’s knitting needles come in handy.’ She quickly poured a cup of tea from the pot on the table and sat down. The kitchen was unusually deserted. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘Mrs Finch is getting dressed, Grandpa’s been out all night with Harvey and isn’t home yet, and Dad’s gone fishing with Frank. The girls are all on early shift, so they left ages ago.’ Anne looked down at Rose, who had almost finished her bottle. ‘Mum was up with the lark as usual, but she’s looking really tired, so I ordered her to go back to bed.’ She grinned at Julie. ‘She won’t stay there for long, of course, and is probably worrying about a thousand and one things and not resting at all.’
Julie had noticed Peggy had been unusually out of sorts lately and had put it down to the trauma of the past few weeks. However, it was very unlike her to go back to bed, and that was worrying. ‘I hope she’s not going down with something,’ she murmured as she watched William playing with his soft blue and white rabbit.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Anne as she finished winding Rose. ‘She’s just exhausted after everything that’s happened, and as long as we all help around the house, she’ll soon bounce back.’
Anne handed Rose to Julie so she could put her in the playpen next to William. The two babies started gurgling and waving their arms and legs about. ‘They seem very happy with each other,’ Anne said fondly. ‘It’ll be a shame to separate them when I have to leave.’
‘But it won’t be for a while yet, will it?’
Anne dipped her chin, the colour rising in her face. ‘I haven’t told Mum yet, but Martin and I have decided that once I’m able to get about, it would be best for me to take Rose to Somerset until things quieten down. I’ll probably go next month.’
‘Oh, Anne, I can see that makes a lot of sense, but it’ll break Peggy’s heart to lose you both.’
Anne took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘I know, but I have to think of Rose now, and Martin agrees with me that we’re just too vulnerable here so close to the Channel.’ She looked back at Julie, her lovely face shadowed with sadness. ‘I’ll be staying on the farm where my little brothers are living, so at least I won’t be entirely without my family. You will keep an eye on Mum while I’m gone, won’t you?’
‘Of course I will,’ said Julie. ‘But you’d better tell her soon, Anne. She needs time to get used to the idea of you leaving.’
Anne chewed her lip. ‘I know,’ she admitted softly, ‘and I’m dreading it.’
Peggy’s bare feet made no noise as she tiptoed back upstairs to her bedroom and closed the door. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on the conversation, but now she knew Anne’s plans, at least she could prepare herself and try not to make it difficult for the girl to leave.
She sank back onto the unmade bed, her thoughts in a terrible jumble as she tried to come to terms with losing yet more of her family. It would be lovely for Bob and Charlie to have their sister and niece living with them, and Violet would take the same loving care of them as she did with the boys. But it seemed to Peggy that Violet was getting the best deal out of this blasted war, for she’d been handed a ready-made family to love and cherish – which left Peggy adrift and wanting.
She felt her throat thicken and the rise of a desperate need to cry, but she refused to let her emotions get the better of her. There had been enough sadness these past weeks, and she was determined to remain strong. Impatient with her inability to do anything much these days without either flying off the handle or bursting into tears, Peggy clambered off the bed and began to tug furiously at the sheets and blankets. This bloody, bloody war was turning her into someone she hardly recognised any more. She couldn’t be selfish, not when their safety was at risk, but she would miss Rose Margaret, for that little girl had stolen her heart.
‘Pull yourself together, woman,’ she muttered as she pummelled the pillows with unnecessary force and blinked back the ready tears. ‘If you carry on like this you’ll be fit for nothing – and then where would we all be?’
Julie set out on that warm May morning, her bicycle tyres humming nicely on the road as she headed for Cliffe surgery. She enjoyed these few minutes of solitude first thing: they set her up for the day, and when the sun was shining and the sea glittered so prettily, she felt as if she was on holiday.
Walking in through the back door she encountered Michael in the kitchen. ‘Good morning,’ she said with determined cheerfulness.
‘Good morning, Sister Harris,’ he replied, his dark eyes sweeping over her almost with indifference before he turned his attention back to the teapot. ‘There’s tea if you want it.’
Julie didn’t want tea – she wanted him to talk to her like he used to. ‘Dr Sayers, about the rugby match,’ she began. ‘I won’t be able to go, so you’d better give me ticket to someone else.’
‘I see,’ he murmured, still not looking at her. ‘Probably for the best, in the circumstances.’
She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how his casual words had stung. ‘Yeah, I’m being kept very busy at the moment and two of me expectant mothers are due that day.’ She left him standing in the kitchen and had to go to the cloakroom to steady herself. She was angry and hurt, and it wouldn’t do to let Eunice see how badly her hands were shaking. When she’d mastered her emotions enough to face Eunice, she went to fetch her casebook and daily list of patients.
Eunice was looking very pleased with herself, her make-up flawless, her freshly washed hair neatly cur
led back from her face in what the fashion magazines called ‘Victory Rolls’. It was clear she was pulling out all the stops in her quest to get Michael’s attention, and Julie suspected she’d been angling for that ticket to the rugby.
‘You’ll have Jessica with you this morning,’ Eunice said as she handed over the list. ‘She needs to learn how to take out stitches and dress ulcers, and I want you to supervise her.’
‘I see there’s a new patient on me list,’ murmured Julie. ‘Do you have his notes?’
Eunice handed them over. ‘Mr Hopkins is diabetic and has leg ulcers. He telephoned and asked if you could call in and change the dressings.’ Her blue eyes regarded Julie with an unspoken challenge – and perhaps a little glint of victory. ‘I will need a full written assessment of Jessica’s work by tomorrow morning,’ she added coolly.
Jess came bustling into the hall, fair curls bouncing under her cap, face alive with youthful exuberance as she greeted Julie. ‘Has Sister Beecham told you about me applying to train as a proper nurse?’ she asked breathlessly as they headed for the bicycle shed.
‘I guessed when she asked me to do a full assessment at the end of the day,’ Julie replied with a smile. ‘Well done you. I’m sure you’ll make a first-class nurse.’ She liked Jess, for she was young, keen and bright, and had so far proved to be an excellent nursing aide. ‘Come on, we’ve got a long list today. Mr Hopkins is first on our list – he lives in Havelock Gardens and I’m looking forward to seeing the inside of his house.’
‘They’re ever so smart, aren’t they?’ said Jess as they cycled down the tree-lined street where the houses stood back from the road behind high brick walls.
They certainly were, and Julie was reminded of the leafy upper-class suburbs of London as they rode through the imposing gateway and along the sweeping gravel drive to the front door, where the porch was sagging beneath the heavy branches of an ancient wisteria.
‘Mr Hopkins is obviously not a gardener,’ muttered Julie as she leaned her bike against one of the wooden pillars holding up the porch and noted the weeds pushing through the gravel and the overgrown flowerbeds. ‘But then he is in his fifties, and the diabetes will have slowed him down.’
‘He’s certainly let the place go,’ said Jess disappointedly as she eyed the peeling paintwork and rotting window frames. ‘No wonder he keeps all his curtains closed. I dread to think what it’s like indoors.’
Julie’s rap on the knocker was answered by a man’s voice coming from the depths of the house. ‘Who is it?’
‘It’s the district nurse, Mr Hopkins.’ She and Jess exchanged amused glances as they heard him turn a key and draw back two bolts.
The door opened just enough for them to see a man in baggy trousers, scruffy cardigan and tartan slippers standing in the shadows of his hallway. He’d yet to shave, his greying hair was untidy, and his hazel eyes regarded them suspiciously.
‘Hello, Mr Hopkins,’ said Julie with a smile. ‘I’m Sister Harris, and this is Jess Miller, my assistant. May we come in?’
He stood back and quickly closed the door behind them. ‘They’re a nosy lot round here,’ he muttered as he led the way down the dim hallway. ‘I expect they’ve already seen you arrive and will no doubt make something out of it.’
Julie and Jess made no comment as they followed him. The wallpaper was peeling where patches of damp had seeped through, and there was a thick layer of dust coating the hall table and mirror. The rug was almost threadbare, and it had been a long time since the floor had been swept and polished. It was all very dreary and most disappointing.
Then he opened a door, and the hallway was flooded in sunlight. Stepping into the book-lined room, Julie’s breath caught as her gaze went immediately to the wide bay windows which looked directly out to sea. She could imagine she was on the bridge of a ship.
‘What a lovely view,’ breathed Jess. ‘You are lucky, Mr Hopkins.’
‘You get used to it,’ he muttered. ‘I hardly notice it any more.’
Julie saw he was looking decidedly uneasy, and thought he was probably dreading the dressings coming off. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ she soothed. ‘I know it’s unpleasant and painful having your dressings changed, but Miss Miller will be very gentle.’
His gaze went from Julie to Jess and back again. ‘I don’t actually need the dressings changed,’ he admitted, his hands twisting nervously in the pockets of his sagging cardigan. ‘I’ve got you here for something else.’
Julie frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
His face was etched with lines of some terrible worry as he looked back at her. ‘It’s my daughter who needs you, not me.’
‘Your daughter should have made the appointment then,’ she replied. ‘This is all very irregular, Mr Hopkins.’
‘Melanie only came home yesterday, and isn’t registered at the surgery yet. But I need you to look at her with some urgency, Sister. She’s not right, but she’s refusing to go to the hospital, and I’m really very worried.’
With rising alarm, Julie looked back at him. ‘How old is your daughter, Mr Hopkins?’
‘She’s sixteen, and has been living with her mother in Guildford. Look, Sister,’ he said, his concern making his voice rise, ‘I know this isn’t how you usually work, but I would be very grateful if you could give her the once-over.’
Julie pulled her casebook out of her bag. ‘I’m going to need her details, Mr Hopkins, so she can be registered as one of our patients, and I’m not only going to have to report on this visit to the doctors, but charge you for it too.’
He regarded her intently as he shuffled impatiently from one foot to the other. ‘I’d rather you didn’t tell anyone,’ he said nervously. ‘Is it really necessary? I don’t mind paying, but . . .’
Julie suddenly didn’t like the feel of this at all. ‘What happens here will go no further than Dr Sayers unless it’s illegal,’ she said rather sharply. ‘Where is your daughter?’
‘Upstairs in the front room.’ He opened the door into the hall. ‘Turn left at the top, it’s the second door,’ he muttered. He ran his fingers through his hair as he edged towards the bottom of the stairs. ‘I’ll . . . I’ll leave you to it then.’
All of Julie’s instincts told her that something was very wrong here and, as she and Jess reached the bedroom door, she could see the other girl was just as uneasy. ‘Just follow my lead, Jess. This could be tricky.’
The room was in darkness, and she could barely make out anything. ‘Draw the blackouts, Jess,’ she said quietly.
‘Who’s that?’ The voice was young and high with fear.
As light flooded the room, Julie saw the huddled outline of a figure beneath a pile of blankets. ‘I’m Sister Harris, the district nurse,’ she said quietly as she approached the bed. ‘Your father tells me you aren’t feeling very well, Melanie. What seems to be the matter?’
The girl gave a deep groan and shifted beneath the mound of covers. ‘You’ve got to help me,’ she whimpered. She groaned again, giving a sharp cry of pain. ‘Make it stop, please make it stop,’ she whimpered.
Julie swiftly drew back the covers and caught her breath as she saw the blood-soaked sheets and what lay between Melanie’s thighs. She understood everything now.
She glanced at Jess, who was standing wide-eyed by her side. ‘There’s a telephone on the hall table,’ she said quietly. ‘Call an ambulance, and then ring the surgery. There’s a protocol for situations like this, and the police will have to be informed.’
As Jess raced back downstairs, Julie stacked books from a nearby shelf under the end of the bed in the faint hope it might help stop the bleeding. She then shrugged off her cloak, opened her medical bag, and pulled on thin rubber gloves. ‘Melanie,’ she said softly. ‘I need you to try and stay calm while I examine you.’
‘I’m frightened,’ the girl moaned.
Julie did a swift internal examination, which revealed that Melanie was right to be frightened. Whoever had performed this pi
ece of butchery had seen to it that the girl not only lost this baby, but probably any hope of having another.
She dealt with things as best she could in the circumstances, and then reached for the hypodermic and the small phial of analgesic she always carried in her bag. ‘You’ll feel a bit of a scratch on your leg, and then in a few minutes the pain will start to fade.’
Jess came back with towels and a jug of hot water. ‘Dr Michael’s on his way and so is the ambulance,’ she said. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Help me strip the bed and clean her up,’ Julie replied. ‘There’s nothing much else we can do but try to keep her warm and comfortable until the doctor gets here.’
It had been a long, distressing day for both of them, and Julie and Jess returned very late from their round to find Dr Michael waiting for them in the kitchen. ‘You’re both to be commended for your handling of the situation with dignity and calm this morning,’ he said solemnly.
‘Did Melanie pull through?’ asked Julie.
He shook his head. ‘It has been a sad day all round, and unfortunately this won’t be the end of it. There’s bound to be a police inquiry, and you will both be expected to give a clear and concise account of the events of today.’ He took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. ‘But, with Melanie dead and her father denying all knowledge of the abortion, it thankfully won’t go to court. I’ve had a word with the coroner, and he’s promised to hold his inquiry in camera. The last thing we need is for our practice to be linked to such things.’
Julie felt a stab of fury. God forbid his precious practice should be tainted by a girl desperate to risk her life and that of her baby to go to some old crone in a back street. If fewer people kept silent, that particular trade would disappear altogether. But she knew better than to say anything. She was tired and saddened by the day and just wanted to write up her notes and get home to William and the comfort of Peggy’s kitchen.
Julie let herself in and headed straight for the pram where both babies were sleeping. She wanted to pick William up and hold him for the comforting feeling of his warm little body after her awful day, but she knew that if she did it would disturb them both, so she resisted and went into the kitchen.