Wartime for the District Nurses

by Annie Groves

  Billy and Edith looked sharply at her. Everyone knew that it was best to say as little in public as possible when it came to such matters, as you never knew who might be listening. There was even a new poster out from the government, warning that ‘Careless Talk Costs Lives’. Belinda registered their disapproval and hastily explained. ‘I mean, my brother is in the RAF and I know it’s a long shot but maybe you know him. He was meant to be in London this weekend and I was looking forward to seeing him, but he wasn’t able to make it in the end.’

  Edith noted with relief that she hadn’t said why. A call had come through to say his leave had been cancelled. Gwen had been cross that the home’s single telephone had been used for a personal message, but their superintendent, Fiona, ruled that it was allowable in such circumstances as long as the message was kept brief.

  ‘Suppose we might. What’s his name?’ asked Laurence.

  ‘David. David Adams,’ Belinda replied, but both men shook their heads.

  ‘But if we bump into him in the future we’ll say we met you,’ offered Alfie, picking up on her disappointment.

  She shrugged, and her tight black curls caught the evening sun. ‘I know it was a bit unlikely,’ she said. Rallying again, she turned to Laurence. ‘So, where have you visited so far?’

  He smiled easily and even Edith admitted to herself he was very good-looking. ‘Well, my mother’s from Scotland and so when I first got here I went to see my long-lost relatives up near Edinburgh. But for the rest of the time I’ve been down south. Alfie here took me to Brighton yesterday but it wasn’t how we imagined it.’

  ‘No,’ said Alfie. ‘For a start you aren’t allowed on the beach now. Even the streets near the sea have a curfew, so you can’t go down the seaside pubs after nine thirty. Put a bit of a kybosh on our plans.’

  Peggy patted her hair. ‘All the more reason to enjoy tonight then,’ she suggested.

  Billy met Edith’s gaze behind their friend’s back, and gave her a quizzical look. Edith gave him a little shrug. She didn’t know what Peggy’s game was either, but this wasn’t turning out to be the quiet night out she’d foreseen.

  Laurence and Alfie offered to get in a round of drinks. Edith didn’t mind that; she only wanted half a shandy, and it was well known that the RAF men generally weren’t short of a bob or two. Peggy ordered a port and lemon, while Mary and Belinda chose lemonade.

  ‘They seem nice,’ Peggy said, coming over to her. ‘Makes a change, seeing new faces in here. Usually it’s full of people I’ve been to school with, or at least their brothers and sisters.’

  ‘Yes, but that’s why I like it,’ said Edith. ‘Not that I was at school with them all but … well, you know, Harry was, and so I felt like I had this new group of friends to count on. It was never like that where I came from.’

  Peggy bit her lip. ‘I know. I’m only having a bit of fun. You don’t mind, do you? It feels as if I’ve been sitting in Pete’s mum’s front room for ever. It was driving me nuts. It’s a real breath of fresh air coming here again.’

  Edith recognised that Peggy was dealing with her grief in a very different way, but didn’t want to blame her. ‘Of course not. I’m just not feeling very chatty yet. It’s nice to be out, so don’t mind me if I’m a bit quiet.’

  Peggy’s face broke into a big smile. Then the RAF men returned and she hurried over to help hand round the glasses. She took her own and raised it. ‘Cheers!’ she said, beaming at Alfie and Laurence, then knocked back half of the gleaming purple drink in one go. ‘To having fun.’

  ‘Blimey,’ said Billy under his breath, yet loud enough that Edith heard, while Laurence raised his own pint and said, ‘To a fine evening, in the best city in England!’

  ‘To the best bit of the best city in England!’ said Peggy, and knocked back the rest of the port and lemon.

  After a couple of hours, Edith was more than ready to go home. She’d tried her best, keeping up her end of the conversation when one of the others spoke to her, but it was an effort and her heart wasn’t in it. After a while she drifted to the edge of the group and watched them rather than joining in. Billy’s friends seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t remotely interested in getting to know them any better. What would be the point? She’d probably never see them again anyway.

  Peggy, however, continued to accept the port and lemons, which the RAF men obligingly bought her, and to drink them down as if there was no tomorrow. Her voice grew louder and she laughed at everything they said, playing with her hair or shaking it loose around her shoulders. Edith was slightly shocked. She was no prude, but it was no time at all since Pete had died, and here was Peggy behaving as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  Mary detached herself from the conversation she’d been having with Ronald and Kenny and came over. ‘You all right, Edie? You’ve gone quiet.’

  Edith grinned awkwardly. ‘Just tired.’

  Mary nodded. ‘Me too. Shall we go?’

  Edith nodded, grateful that Mary had made the suggestion. As a point of pride she hadn’t wanted to say anything, but the light was beginning to fade and she wasn’t keen to stumble back in the blackout. Besides, she simply didn’t have any energy left to socialise. She longed for her bed in her little attic room, where she wouldn’t have to speak to anyone.

  ‘Would you mind?’ she said.

  ‘Not a bit. I’ll see what Belinda wants to do.’

  After a brief chat with Belinda, and a word or two with Billy, Mary came back and told Edith: ‘Belinda wants to stay longer, but Billy said he’d make sure she gets back all right. I’ve said goodbye on your behalf, so we can leave whenever you like.’

  Edith sighed with relief. ‘Let’s go right now. No point in hanging around. Thanks, Mary.’ She shrugged into her bolero and drew it around her. ‘Come on, we can go out the back way.’ She linked her arm through her friend’s and they quietly made their way through the gate into the little lane behind the beer garden – where once Harry had led her, the night she’d realised he was the only man for her.

  At breakfast the next morning, Belinda was last down, almost missing the porridge. Edith, who had been chatting to Alice, waved her over. ‘How was the rest of last night?’ she asked. ‘Did Billy walk you home like he said he would?’

  Belinda looked guilty. ‘Yes, but I lost track of time and I missed the curfew. I didn’t realise it was after ten o’clock until he looked at his watch. I had to sneak past the front door and hope nobody was watching. I remembered what you used to do, though, and found the loose fence panel. I almost ripped my skirt getting through the gap – I’d hate to think what would have happened if I’d been any bigger. Mary said she’d leave a window open just in case and so I climbed in that way.’

  Edith grinned. ‘Good job you’re so tall. I always needed help to reach the windowsill. I’d have been completely stuck on my own.’

  ‘I scraped my knee as it was,’ Belinda said ruefully. ‘Still, it was worth it. I really enjoyed myself and it took my mind off David. I’m trying not to think about what he’s doing, you see.’

  Edith and Alice nodded in sympathy, although Alice had no brothers and sisters, and Edith wasn’t close to any of her brothers in the way Belinda evidently was.

  ‘Billy’s ever so nice, isn’t he?’ Belinda went on. ‘He had to come out of his way to bring me back. I assumed he must live near here when he offered but, no, his house is in the opposite direction, yet he swore he didn’t mind.’

  Edith agreed. ‘He’s one of the kindest people I know. That’s typical of him.’ She watched Belinda with curiosity. Was there something more than friendly appreciation behind what she’d said? Had Billy taken her fancy? Belinda had never talked about a boyfriend so perhaps it was possible. Edith decided not to mention the complication of Kathleen.

  ‘Anyway, Peggy certainly seemed to enjoy herself,’ Belinda continued. ‘She and that Canadian airman got on like a house on fire. I think she’s going to see him again.’

  Alice raised her
eyebrows in surprise. ‘Really? Isn’t that a bit soon?’

  Edith pulled a face. ‘Well, I’d have thought so, but if that’s her way of getting over Pete then I don’t suppose we can blame her. Perhaps it’s just a bit of fun.’

  ‘What’s he like?’ Alice asked.

  ‘Very good-looking,’ Belinda said at once. ‘Dark hair, dark eyes, easy to talk to. Generous as well – he bought everyone drinks all night.’

  ‘Yes, you couldn’t fault him for that,’ Edith agreed, remembering all the port and lemons Peggy had had.

  Alice picked up on the tone of her friend’s voice. ‘But what? Didn’t you like him, Edie?’

  ‘No, it’s not that.’ Edith stopped to think about her impressions of Laurence. Everything Belinda said was true, and yet there was something about him she hadn’t warmed to. Was it the way he had eyed up Mary when they’d arrived? Then again, she was hardly in the mood to start taking an interest in men. ‘I’m just being silly, pay me no notice. I didn’t really speak to him enough to say either way.’

  Alice glanced at her sceptically but Belinda didn’t see. ‘Well, I thought he was a bit of a catch. I don’t suppose he’ll be around for long, though. They’re based down on the south coast somewhere, so they’re bound to go back there soon and that’ll be that.’

  Edith got up, clearing her plate and cup. ‘I expect you’re right.’ But she couldn’t shake that faint feeling of unease.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘You’re getting too big for this!’ Kathleen exclaimed, lifting her son into his pram, which had seemed so huge when she’d first got it. Brian beamed up at her, his face now almost chubby. He still fitted in but gone were the days when she could easily sit him at one end and a bag of shopping at the other. It was finally being able to give him proper food that had made the difference.

  Kathleen had struggled when he had been a small baby, with scarcely any money to feed the pair of them and make ends meet. If it hadn’t been for her best friend Mattie insisting that she came round to the Banhams’ house so often, they would have been in deep trouble. Then Ray had joined the merchant navy and some of his wages found their way back home, which had helped. Kathleen automatically rubbed her wrist and arm at the mere thought of him. She was never going to forget the way he’d hurt her, throwing her to the floor and all because she’d needed to feed Brian before paying attention to him. She had loved Ray with all her heart, even more so because her family had been so against the match. It had taken that day when he’d come home and she’d feared he would attack his own son to make her fully realise the sort of man he was.

  Now he was dead, lost at Dunkirk along with so many others. Plenty would say he was a hero, and she supposed he was. At least she could tell Brian that his father had died for a noble cause. She would try to hold on to that, rather than the cold truth of Ray the wife-beater, jealous of his own son. While one part of her still longed for the passion they had shared, a greater part felt nothing but relief. He could never hurt either of them again.

  Yet she blamed herself for not mourning him more deeply. He had been her husband, after all. Shouldn’t she feel terrible, as if life had no meaning, that she’d never be the same again? Like poor Edith did. The guilt was eating away inside her. She knew she was avoiding her friends, those who wanted to help her, like the Banhams and Billy. Especially Billy.

  He’d always been so kind to her and come to her rescue more than once, very discreetly lending her money when he correctly suspected she had no other way of paying the rent. She’d been too proud to tell anyone just how bad her financial problems were, but somehow he had known. That was before he had saved her from the speeding car with its drunk driver. She and Brian would have been badly hurt, even killed, and he hadn’t thought twice. So really she should show him just how grateful she was.

  However, the more she acknowledged how she felt, the worse the guilt became. She’d failed to see what a good man Billy was and had been taken in by Ray’s shallow charm. More fool her. Now she was too confused to know what to do.

  ‘Off we go,’ she said, forcing herself to sound bright and encouraging, not wanting Brian to glimpse the darkness inside her. She manoeuvred the heavy pram down the narrow pavement of Jeeves Place, waving to her old neighbour Mrs Bishop who sometimes babysat, dodging the broken slabs on the corner, and headed for Ridley Road market.

  No matter how miserable she was, Kathleen usually enjoyed the bustle of the market, where many of the stallholders knew her, and some even saved little treats for Brian. He would sit up straighter in his pram when they drew near to the best fruit and vegetable stall and start to wave his arms when he caught sight of the man who ran it. Sure enough, today the man came around to the front of his stall, still piled high with colourful produce despite all the difficulties of the war. At least fruit and veg weren’t rationed. ‘How’s my favourite customer today?’ he asked, bending down to Brian’s level, and Brian squealed in delight.

  ‘He’s giving me no end of trouble, growing so fast,’ Kathleen laughed, pleased to see that Brian didn’t mind relative strangers. He was becoming a sociable little boy. That was exactly what she wanted. He hadn’t been around his aggressive father enough to taste real fear.

  The stallholder reached into his pocket and drew out a shiny apple. ‘This will put colour in your cheeks,’ he said solemnly to the child. Brian immediately reached for it and beamed as he held it, fascinated by the bright colour and delicious smell.

  ‘Good boy,’ said Kathleen, reaching around. ‘Now you give it to Mummy to keep safe and you can have it when we get home.’ She didn’t want him taking big bites out of it when she couldn’t see him or he might choke.

  Brian didn’t object and she turned her attention to the business in hand, buying ingredients for the next couple of days. It was a sad truth that receiving a pension as Ray’s widow meant she had money coming in more regularly than ever before. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was so much better than hoping for handouts from him, never knowing when they would come – or if at all. She and Brian had never eaten so well. Kathleen was clever at making something out of nearly nothing, having had to do so out of sheer necessity for so long, and now she found they could eat like kings if she budgeted carefully. Thanking the stallholder for his help, she loaded her bulging bag on to the wire basket beneath the pram, and made her way down the crowded thoroughfare to the stall which sold grains.

  ‘Shall we get some oats for your porridge?’ she asked Brian. ‘And pearl barley too,’ she said to the new stallholder. Barley stew was something she made a lot of; it was filling, and nourishing, and safe for Brian with his new teeth. She propped the big paper bag of it at the bottom of the pram. ‘Now you keep your feet away from it,’ she instructed her son, mock sternly.

  The stallholder laughed. ‘He’ll be big enough to kick that soon,’ he observed.

  ‘It’s all your good food,’ Kathleen replied, thankful as she’d seen he had added a little extra to the bag before fastening it. That left only the fish stall. As meat was rationed, she had taken to buying fish when she could, but that meant coming more often as she had nowhere to keep it fresh.

  Turning back into the fray of busy shoppers, some with small children tugging on their mothers’ coats, she became aware of a strange sensation, almost like a prickling at the back of her neck. She rubbed her scarf, hastily flung on earlier that morning. She must be imagining things. Frowning, she drew up at the fish stall and joined the small queue. Clarrie’s sister, who she knew slightly, was just ahead of her, and they passed the time while they waited.

  ‘And how are you getting on?’ asked the young woman, who had hair the exact same shade of red as Clarrie. ‘I heard about your husband. I know Peggy’s proper cut up about Pete, and I’m sorry you are on your own now.’

  ‘Oh, not too bad, thank you for asking,’ Kathleen said hurriedly. ‘This little one keeps me going. You have to carry on, don’t you?’

  The woman nodded. ‘Well, I think you’re ve
ry brave,’ she said. ‘Oh, two fillets please.’ She turned to pay the fishmonger and Kathleen sighed with relief. She could not say what she really meant: she was glad Ray was dead.

  She waved goodbye to Clarrie’s sister as she reached the head of the queue. The fishmonger recognised her and chatted easily as he took her order, making sure she got a good fillet and wrapping it carefully. Kathleen was pleased. That would be enough for her to eat simply grilled, with a little left over to break up and mash into potato for Brian. He wasn’t keen on fish on its own yet. She began to daydream about when he might be old enough to enjoy fish and chips as she pushed the pram back down between the stalls towards the main road.

  There it was again, that strange prickling at the back of her neck. Kathleen turned round in puzzlement. A movement several stalls away caught her eye and she squinted in the bright sunshine to make out what it was. A figure had gone behind a striped awning but now appeared to be standing still. From what she could see of the person’s clothes, it was a man. He moved a little but did not step into the pathway between the stalls. It was almost as if he was teasing her.

  He swayed towards the edge of the stall and then back again. This was silly, she told herself. What grown man would play games like this? She was seeing trouble where there was none. She moved to the next stall and examined the bolts of fabric, more for the pleasure of enjoying their contrasting patterns than with the intention of buying anything.

  Just as she was about to turn around and resume her journey home, the man reappeared, but backlit by the sunshine she could not make out any definite details. He seemed to take a step towards her and then moved back into the shadow of the awning. It was very peculiar, to say the least.

  Kathleen stood still as the crowds milled around her. What was all that about? Was he having a stupid bit of fun, or was he following her for some more sinister reason? Shaking her head, she told herself not to be fanciful. She had to get back to her dingy rooms on Jeeves Place and cook the fish before the heat of the day spoiled it. She didn’t have time to worry about men behaving oddly. She would put his strange behaviour straight out of her mind.