by Annie Groves
The cogs started whirring. Alfie. The hospital. The young man in the corner bed. Almost the same profile as Joe Banham’s, and similar hair – or what the poor patient had of it. Surely a coincidence. Lots of people had thick brown hair. But with a face so alike? It had to be the beer, affecting his brain. And yet …
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
‘I’m here to help and that’s all there is to it,’ said Kathleen the next morning, turning up at the Banhams’ doorstep as usual even though she was no longer staying there. ‘Don’t talk daft, Mattie. You can pass me the pegs if you like, but you aren’t going to lift anything heavier.’ She ushered Brian through to the kitchen, carrying her own bundle of washing to add to the family basket.
Mattie didn’t bother to argue. She was grateful that Kathleen had come round, as she didn’t want Joe to see how much she struggled to do everyday tasks. He didn’t need to be worrying about her when he went away – he would have enough on his plate as it was.
Now he leapt up from the remains of his breakfast on the big wooden table and greeted their friend. ‘And who’s this? Brian, how you’ve grown,’ he said to the toddler, who gave him a nod before making a beeline for Gillian.
‘He has, hasn’t he?’ Kathleen gazed proudly at the back of her little boy as he climbed up beside Gillian on her heap of cushions in the corner. ‘They play by themselves for hours on end, good as gold.’
‘And how are you keeping, Kath? You’re looking well,’ Joe said. ‘Ma told me you’d been helping out. I’m very grateful to you.’
‘Well, it’s only right,’ Kath said, shaking out her hair. ‘It’s good to see you, Joe. Can I just squeeze by to the back kitchen? I’ll get the copper on for hot water to get this lot started.’
‘Here, let me help.’ Joe got up. ‘No, honestly, let me. I’ve got to keep in shape, after all. A bit of exercise – after all that cake, followed by more pints than I’m used to – wouldn’t hurt me.’ He swung the big laundry tub off its hook.
‘Oh, what did you do last night?’ asked Kathleen, taking out the Reckitt’s Blue and Oxydol. She quickly sorted the whites from the rest of the laundry.
‘He’s got a sore head,’ said Mattie. ‘Let himself be dragged down the Duke’s Arms, of course. Even Pa went, though he’s made of stronger stuff and was up bright and early this morning, which is more than can be said for some of us around here.’ Her eyes gleamed at the now-rare opportunity to tease her big brother.
‘I might have known it.’ Kathleen pretended to be stern. ‘And who else was there?’
‘The usual gang. Clarrie, Peggy, Billy, and some of his mates I didn’t know. Alice and Edith, and their friend Belinda.’
Kathleen took this in. ‘Which one is she?’ she asked lightly. Mattie caught her eye but Joe didn’t pick up on it.
‘I think Alice said she’d joined them since I was last down – I didn’t recognise her anyway. Very tall. She spent most of her time chatting to Billy and so I hardly spoke to her. I was glad to see Edith out and about, as I understand she’s been keeping herself to herself since … since Harry died.’
‘She came round here a few times though,’ Mattie said, leaving Kathleen to think about what the tall nurse might have been talking to Billy about all evening. Surely, if this Belinda and Billy were anything other than occasional acquaintances, Joe would have noticed and said something? Or didn’t men spot these things unless it was so blindingly obvious that it was impossible to miss? Perhaps her fears were groundless and there was nothing in it. She hoped that was true. She had to hang on to that.
‘Alice said there’s a Tommy Trinder film on,’ Joe continued. ‘It looks as if we’re all going to go. Almost like old times.’
‘You like Tommy Trinder, don’t you, Kath?’ asked Mattie.
Kathleen looked up from her assortment of whites. ‘Of course. Everyone does.’
‘Well, why don’t you go?’
Kathleen’s busy hands came to an abrupt halt. ‘What, me? Go to the pictures? How would I do that? Now you’re having me on, Mattie.’ She racked her brains for the last time she had gone to the cinema. It must have been before Ray left to join his ship, which would have meant before he had met Elsie, when he still loved her. She wrestled her thoughts away from that painful image.
Mattie sat up in the chair where she had collapsed, suddenly animated at the idea. ‘Yes, why not? We can have Brian to stay; he can fit in with Gillian or something. You haven’t had a night out since he was born, have you? Don’t bother thinking about it, I know you haven’t. You of all people deserve it, don’t she, Joe?’
Joe nodded, wondering why he hadn’t thought of the idea himself. ‘It’ll be on me, Kath,’ he said hastily, concerned she would back out because she had no spare money for the treat. ‘By way of a thank you for the help you’ve given Ma and Mattie.’
‘I can’t let you do that. If anyone’s grateful then it should be me …’ Kathleen began, but Joe stopped her.
‘I won’t listen to any arguments, you’re coming with us,’ he insisted. ‘Just think how glad everybody will be to see you.’
‘Yes, you won’t have seen most of them for ages.’ Mattie pressed home her advantage, pleased that Joe had seen the merits of her idea so readily.
‘Well …’ Kathleen was tempted. An evening out – and with Billy there. It was too good to turn down. She hoped the tall nurse wasn’t included in the party, but it wouldn’t stop her going. Besides, she didn’t have to worry about Brian; he was as at home here as in their own little flat. ‘If you’re sure …’
‘Then it’s settled.’ Joe beamed, happy to be able to do something to help. ‘You pop back to your place, pick up a change of clothes for the boy, and come round here in time for tea.’
‘There’s a bit of that cake left,’ added Mattie, in case Kathleen needed more persuading. ‘Brian will come to no harm, you know I’ll see to that.’
Kathleen’s cheeks grew rosy with anticipation at the unexpected treat. ‘I … I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I’d love to.’ Then she turned to the business in hand. ‘So I’d better get cracking with these.’ She poured the Reckitt’s Blue into the tin bucket.
Gwen pursed her lips as she waited patiently for Fiona to finish adding up the column of figures. Somehow they had to work out how to provide more nursing with less money, and yet even with the two new Irish nurses, they were uncomfortably stretched as it was.
It felt like ages since her shopping trip with Miriam, which was the last time she had left Dalston. With Gwen’s commitments to her work and all the extra classes she was teaching, there simply had not been time. Miriam, meanwhile, had thrown herself into WVS activities, alongside welcoming into her home more Jewish families fleeing the Nazi clampdowns, before finding them more permanent places to stay. The latest ones were a couple in their seventies, who had had to drop everything to leave at a moment’s notice, and now faced settling in a country where they could not speak the language. Yet at least they were alive.
The shafts of late summer sunlight from the office window caught Fiona’s copper head as it bent over the columns. She pencilled in some totals, stared at them and then struck them through.
‘Still no good?’ Gwen asked.
Fiona looked up, her face showing pure frustration. ‘Not yet. I’ll find a way. We can’t let anyone down.’
Gwen drew up a chair on the other side of the superintendent’s desk. ‘Absolutely. And you always come up with something.’
‘Just as well.’ Fiona glanced at her friend wryly. ‘So, distract me from these blessed sums and tell me what else has been going on. It feels as if the only conversations we’ve had recently are about shortages, extra demands and requests for even more first-aid classes. I’ve lost track of what our nurses are up to when they aren’t actually working.’
Gwen folded her hands over her knees. Even though it was strictly her day off, she was still in uniform. ‘Well, young Edith seems to be perking up at last. She’s taking a pride in
her appearance when off duty and has been out several times, which is a big improvement.’
Fiona beamed. ‘That is certainly good news. The loss of her young man was such a blow. She has been faultless in her work, but still, you can’t help but worry.’
‘True. And the Irish girls are settling in. Alice has been a great help. Mary is as silly as ever but I admit it was a good idea to make her teach more classes. She may be daft as a brush but she is an excellent communicator, I have to hand it to her.’ Gwen pursed her mouth, as if admitting that Mary was useful gave her actual pain.
Fiona nodded. ‘I hate to say I told you so, but I did tell you so. You always underestimate that young lady. She has calmed down since she met her army captain. Not broken curfew for ages, has she?’
Gwen stared at the stubborn columns on the paper in front of them. ‘No, that is true. The one who’s causing problems on that front is Belinda Adams. I caught her earlier this week. I dread to think how many times she’s done it; you know they get in through the downstairs window. She’s one of the few tall enough to do so without a problem or accomplice, and she might have evaded my notice on other occasions. It’s not good enough.’
Fiona frowned. ‘Has she a young man, do you know?’
Gwen shrugged. ‘Not as far as I’m aware. No, she told me she had lost track of time when meeting her brother. He had some unexpected leave from his squadron.’
‘Ah, her brother. A pilot, I understand?’ Fiona’s face relaxed.
Gwen nodded. ‘I believe so. He flies Spitfires.’
Fiona looked at her friend. ‘The poor girl must be worried sick, then. We know full well that the losses are being played down in the newspapers and on the wireless reports, but the chances for those brave young men … well, let’s just say that I’d be inclined to cut her some slack in this case. She must be trying to spend every extra minute with him, as who knows when and if she will have another opportunity?’
Gwen sighed and turned her head a little so that she could stare out of the first-floor window. The rooftops beyond were silhouetted against pale clouds. ‘I know, I know. It’s desperately sad, and I know exactly how it feels to lose a beloved brother.’
‘Of course you do.’ Fiona was acutely aware of the personal tragedies Gwen had endured in the previous war. ‘So, then …’
Gwen raised her hands and let them drop again to her lap. ‘But it’s standards, Fiona! Let one get away with it, they’ll all want to do it. And most of them won’t be doing anything as worthy as meeting up with a brother in the services. They’ll be out fraternising with unsuitable men given half a chance. Discipline must be maintained.’
Fiona cocked her head to one side. ‘Normally I would be the first to agree with you. But in this case I have some sympathy with the young woman. In fact, a lot.’ She paused. ‘Did you issue her a warning?’
Gwen looked at her feet. ‘As a matter of fact, no. I spoke to her sharply, of course, but …’
‘But actually you let her off. You did feel sympathy, Gwen, I can tell, although it would kill you to admit it.’ Fiona’s eyes danced with merriment. It was so rare to catch out her punctilious friend.
Gwen refused to concede for a moment, but then she relented. ‘Oh well. Yes, if you put it like that.’
‘I knew it!’ Fiona crowed. ‘You’re softer than you would have us believe, aren’t you?
‘Not a bit—’ Gwen began, but then Fiona leapt up.
‘I have it! Thinking about something else for a few minutes has worked. I can see where we can save something. Look here, if we just reallocate these payments …’ She was bent over the figures again, scribbling as fast as she could, and Gwen could only sit back and marvel at the superintendent’s ability to magic something out of nothing.
Ron was paying for his rash decision to have another pint at the end of the evening in the pub. What had come over him, he asked himself, as he dragged his hungover body around the warehouse. It hadn’t even been a Friday. He’d really let himself go. All right, he was upset about Alfie and worried about his mother, but it was no excuse. He’d go easy in the future, he vowed under his breath. He couldn’t face the idea of conversation, and somehow managed to avoid Billy and Kenny until the mid-morning tea break.
‘Something wrong, Ron?’ Kenny teased, knowing full well what the trouble was. ‘Been burning the candle at both ends, have yer?’ He grabbed a large mug. ‘So you won’t be going to the flicks tonight then?’
Ron groaned.
‘Look at him, he needs his bed,’ Kenny said to Billy.
‘Reckon he does.’
‘Can’t take the pace, not like some of us.’
‘Shut up, stop it,’ Ron begged. His head was ringing and the noisy docks weren’t helping. ‘So I had a couple of beers, what of it?’
Kenny was about to start up again when he was summoned by the boss for an urgent task. Billy looked at his woebegone friend with wry amusement.
‘Oh dear, Ron. We ought to leave you at home next time.’
Ron wiped his face with his hand. ‘Might be for the best an’ all.’ He dimly recalled that he’d wanted to ask Billy about something. He could feel the cogs in his brain creaking around, rusty as anything. ‘Bill … that bloke last night.’
Billy frowned. ‘Which bloke? There were a lot of them.’
Ron shook his head. ‘Don’t take the mick. I know I’m in a bit of a state but I remember now. Whatshisname – Joe. The one everyone came to see.’
‘What about him?’
Ron wondered if his friend would think he was crazy, or put it down to the hangover. ‘Well, he looked familiar. But you said I didn’t know him.’
Billy shrugged. ‘Well, as far as I’m aware. Suppose you might have bumped into him around the place. He’s a bit older than us.’
Ron was gradually piecing together what he wanted to say. ‘That pretty nurse with the dark hair, the little one, Edith. Did you say her bloke got killed? At Dunkirk?’
‘That’s right,’ Billy answered shortly.
‘And he was Joe Banham’s brother.’
‘Right again. Harry. He’s more our age, we was at school together.’
Ron made the leap he’d been puzzling over. ‘When I went to see Alfie, there was a fellow in a really bad way in the same ward. So badly hurt he didn’t know his own name, could barely speak. Half his head was all cut up and that. But I spent ages looking at him and the rest of his face and hair … and don’t go mad, Bill. He looked just like Joe Banham. Gave me a proper fright, last night, when I saw him.’
Billy looked sceptical. ‘Yep, but you’d had a few, mate. You could have seen a unicorn for all I know.’
‘No, I mean it.’ Ron took a big gulp of tea. ‘All right, answer me this. Did they look alike, the two brothers?’
Billy didn’t have to think about that one. ‘Yes, everyone said so. Joe was the quieter one, Harry was life and soul of the party, but you couldn’t mistake the fact that they were brothers. It can’t be right, Ron. Harry’s dead. We got to accept it. He ain’t coming back no more.’
‘So you said. But I know what I saw. I was stone-cold sober when I visited our Alfie. I went twice, remember. There wasn’t much to do but stare around the ward. There’s someone there who’s the spitting image of Joe Banham. Nobody knows his name. I can’t say if it’s Harry back from the dead. But don’t you think it’s odd?’
Billy didn’t know what to think. Common sense told him Ron had been in no state last night to see anyone properly. Then again, his mate was usually reliable, not given to making things up. He didn’t want to let his hopes grow. Harry was dead and nothing would change it. But what if …
‘What do you say, Billy?’ Ron pressed. ‘Wouldn’t it be a miracle? Wouldn’t Edith want to know?’
Billy shuddered. ‘Don’t you go saying nothing to Edie. She’s been through enough. She’s hardly shown her face all summer; she’s only just started coming out again, so don’t go giving her ideas. We got to sort this out o
urselves. If there’s anything in it – and I mean if, it’s a very big if – I’ll find out. Don’t even whisper it otherwise. Got it?’ He was suddenly fierce, wanting to protect the young nurse, but also hoping against hope that there was something in this wild idea. ‘Do you promise, Ron?’
‘I promise,’ said Ron, wondering what he’d set in motion. There was no going back now.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Alice could hardly believe that she was going out for two evenings in a row. The last time she’d done that was when she’d been with Mark, back in Liverpool, in those heady days when they’d told themselves that love would conquer all. That had been before he’d joined the International Brigade and set off to fight in the Spanish Civil War. It had turned out that love had come a poor second.
Of course going to the pictures with a group of friends was nothing at all like that, even if one of them was Joe. If she was honest, she wouldn’t have gone if he hadn’t been there. She’d seen the film already and would happily have opted for a night in. But she had no way of knowing when his next leave would be. If she was even more honest, she would far rather have spent the evening with him alone, talking like they used to. Yet she could hardly expect him to prefer that to a night out with his many friends.
‘Come on, Al. Get your skates on.’ Edith tapped on Alice’s doorframe, where she was leaning, waiting impatiently. ‘I’ve been on my feet all day as well, you know. There’s no excuse.’
Edith’s day had started badly when one of the patients who had been on the verge of recovery from a chest infection had taken a turn for the worse, and then it turned out Dr Patcham had taken a few days’ holiday, and his locum was totally unprepared. ‘Made me wish that Dr McGillicuddy was back,’ she’d confessed to Mary over dinner. ‘He took to Dalston like a duck to water. This one looks as if he’s never seen a tram before.’