by Annie Groves
Closing her eyes, she briefly recalled the all-too-short visit that she had managed to the coastal city. Ronald had suggested, via Billy, a most unexpected way of him going to see his brother and her seeing Harry. He’d borrowed a motorbike and learnt to ride it, not telling anyone what he had done until he was good enough to go public. He would pull some strings around the docks to get enough petrol for the trip, and Edith could ride on the back. At first she had thought it a hare-brained idea, and then when it became apparent that he was serious, she was terrified – but not so terrified as to refuse. Blocking her ears to everyone’s entreaties not to go because it wasn’t safe, she risked life and limb and accepted.
It had all been worth it for a few hours at Harry’s side. His damaged arm had been released from its hoist, and he was slowly learning how to use his hand again. She held it while he practised clenching and unclenching his fingers, awakening all those muscles he had once honed to perfection. Better still, he could speak. It wasn’t the deep, confident voice she was used to, but it was still full of the essence of Harry, and when he managed to say her name she almost cried.
She would not cry in front of him though. He had been through enough, and she would not cause him any further pain. Instead she told him all about his new nephew, glossing over the worst parts of his arrival into the world, and how the rest of the family were adapting to the newest member. He had mostly listened, as every word he spoke clearly cost him a major effort. His eyes were sharp with interest, however, and Edith was sure that he was absorbing all she said. She was full of relief that her worst fear had been unfounded: that the brain injury would affect his understanding and change him irrevocably. He was still her Harry.
Finally she could tell he was tiring, and gently released his hand. ‘I’d better go,’ she had whispered. ‘You’re falling asleep.’
‘Never.’ His eyes had widened. ‘Edie. Never tired of you.’
She had laughed and bent forward, giving his scarred mouth a soft kiss. ‘This is just to be going on with,’ she promised. ‘I can’t wait for you to be well enough to kiss properly. That won’t be long, will it?’
His eyes brightened despite their evident tiredness. ‘For you, Edie,’ he managed to say, ‘for you, anything.’
Flo had risen before dawn to ensure that everything was ready, spreading butter very thinly on bread for sandwiches, baking savoury tarts using the margarine where its taste wouldn’t be noticed as much, putting out as many plates and cups as she could find. She covered the food with damp tea towels to keep it fresh as the rest of the family emerged. ‘Right, you can help yourselves to breakfast and then clear up,’ she announced. ‘I’m going upstairs to put on my Sunday best.’
Stan carried his grandson around the kitchen to keep him quiet while Mattie tackled the problem of feeding Gillian without the little girl covering herself in marmalade or ruining her new dress. Flo had made it from a bolt-end of material from Ridley Road, cleverly cutting it out in panels so it didn’t look mismatched, and decorating the bodice with smocking. Mattie was determined her eldest child would look smart for the christening service but Gillian had other ideas.
‘He might sleep all the way through if we’re lucky,’ Stan said, rocking the baby gently.
‘I bet he wakes up when he feels that cold water on his head,’ Mattie said. ‘No, Gillian, wipe your hands on your bib. Don’t make Granny’s table all sticky.’ She was nervous about the forthcoming day but didn’t want to say so. What she wanted more than anything was Lennie here beside her to share it, the first public outing of their beloved little boy. She missed her husband all the time, but on occasions such as these it was particularly painful. He was always so calm and cheerful. Maybe their son would take after him in temperament as well as looks. Gillian certainly didn’t. ‘Right, over to the sink, now!’ Mattie ordered as her daughter gleefully rubbed her hands together, successfully covering them in marmalade.
Stan sat down with the sleeping Alan, watching the scene play out. He could tell what was on his daughter’s mind. It was hard to hold a family gathering with no Lennie, no Harry and no Joe. He was proud of each of the young men, and of his daughter too for being so stoic. She got that from her mother, he thought.
Flo reappeared, in a neat cream twinset with a silver chain around her neck.
‘Haven’t seen that in a while,’ he said.
Flo smiled, pleased that he had noticed. ‘I haven’t worn it since Gillian’s christening,’ she said, touching the slender chain from which hung a small diamond shape decorated with four tiny pearls. ‘You gave it to me for Christmas just before she was born. Then she almost broke it by pulling on it, so I’ll be careful with it today.’ She regarded her husband in his brick-coloured dressing gown. ‘You aren’t going to church in that, are you? Do you want to get changed now? And you, Mattie?’
Mattie nodded but looked dubious. ‘That means you’ll have to take charge of these two, and you’re already dressed up,’ she pointed out.
Flo reached for her old housecoat which hung on the back of the kitchen door. ‘You leave them to me,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I’d rather take care of these two than anything else in the world.’
As she stood at the front of the church in a berry-coloured jacket that Bridget had spotted on one of her rounds and tipped her off about, Edith stated her vows to take care of Alan Leonard Askew. She reflected this would have been the one way to provoke a reaction from her mother, who would have been horrified at any of her children setting foot in a Protestant place of worship. Edith didn’t mind in the least; she would be a better mother to Alan, heaven forbid the need should ever arise, than her own mother had been to her. That was more important than a difference of denomination.
She glanced sideways at Billy, standing stiffly in his rarely worn good suit. Edith was sure he had been looking extra warmly at Kathleen, who sat behind them in a pew with Flo and Stan, and wondered what that was about. Then she realised the vicar was speaking again and hurriedly brought her attention back to the service.
Alan scarcely cried when he was anointed with water from the font, proving yet again he had inherited his father’s calm nature, not his mother’s and sister’s. Members of the congregation nodded to one another in approval. Here was another generation of fine Banham men to serve their community. Alan simply snuffled once more and fell back to sleep in his mother’s arms. He was wrapped in a fine white wool shawl that Flo had carefully unpacked from the attic, shaking off the lavender flowers which had deterred the moths since its last airing.
The service finished with a final hymn and the Banhams prepared to walk back the short distance to Jeeves Street. ‘Were you nervous?’ Alice asked Edith as they stepped through the church door. She had noticed that her friend seemed a little on edge. ‘You’re used to speaking in front of a crowd at the first-aid lessons, after all.’
Edith shook her head. ‘No, not nervous. A bit excited, maybe. I’ve never been asked to be a godmother before.’ She fiddled with her jacket collar to make it lie flatter. ‘Shall we catch up with Mattie?’ She strode forward, and Alice frowned. She wasn’t completely convinced.
As they rounded the corner to Jeeves Street, Flo gave a gasp. ‘What’s that ambulance doing outside our house?’
Stan put his hand on her arm. ‘Don’t worry, it can’t be for us. There’s nobody inside, we’re all here. It must be a mistake.’
‘I hope none of our neighbours have been taken bad.’ Flo didn’t want anything to happen to spoil her grandson’s special day. ‘Stan, you go and speak to them, direct them to the right house.’
Stan stepped forward, but could see nobody inside the vehicle. ‘They must have gone into one of the other houses,’ he told his wife. ‘We’ll find out later, I’m sure.’
Flo was not satisfied but put the concern from her mind. ‘Yes, you’re right. Now let me go inside first and put the kettle on. Stan, you take everyone’s coats and make sure people know where to go.’ In addition to the immediate fam
ily, various friends and colleagues had been invited to the buffet, and not all were familiar with the house. Stan nodded to Lennie’s uncle, who was the only one from the Askew side of the family living near enough to come. They didn’t know him well but both Stan and Flo thought it important to have somebody representing Alan’s father. Then he started at a cry from the kitchen. ‘Flo, what …’
Flo burst out of the kitchen and back to the front door. ‘It’s Harry! Harry’s sitting in the kitchen waiting for us! They let him come home in an ambulance especially!’
As a chatter went up among the guests, Alice turned to Edith. ‘You knew, didn’t you. That’s what you were so keyed up about.’
Edith considered denying it but realised there was no point. Alice could read her like a book. She shuffled her feet a little then met her friend’s gaze.
‘All right, yes, I did know. I wrote to that nice nurse we met and told her about the christening, asking if there was any way for Harry to come to it. I understood it would be impossible for him to go to the church as he can’t stand, but if he only had to lie in the ambulance and then sit still in a comfortable chair, I thought there was a chance. Fortunately his doctors agreed with me. They think he’s ready for a taste of the outside world. I know he’ll have to go back for more treatment afterwards, but with no Joe and no Lennie … well, it seemed right that he should be here.’
Alice was dumbstruck for a moment. ‘You kept all that to yourself?’ she gasped. ‘You sly thing, Edie. There was I thinking you’d come over all shy at standing in front of everybody, for the first time in your life.’
‘No,’ said Edith happily. ‘Never been shy and never will be. Wouldn’t have done me any good when I was younger, that’s for sure. Let’s go on in. I’m dying to see him again but I dare say there’ll be a bit of a queue.’
Edging through to the main kitchen, Alice could see Edith was right. There were Peggy and Clarrie, dressed up to the nines, fussing over their old school friend, not at all put off by his scarred face and head shaved down one side. He was propped on the sofa with plenty of cushions, and one arm was still heavily bandaged, but the nurse had managed to find him a smart jacket and drape it around his shoulders. As he caught sight of Edie, his face transformed. If she had ever had any fears that he had been so badly injured he might forget who she was or what they had shared, that look told her all she needed to know. ‘Edie,’ he croaked. ‘Come here.’
She flew across the room to him, thrilled to hear him speak, even if his voice was still far weaker than it used to be. Her eyes welled up as she reached him and took his uninjured hand. ‘Harry.’ Then she was half laughing, half crying with joy, as he used all his strength to pull her down with his one good arm to sit beside him.
‘Are you sure this won’t hurt?’ she checked anxiously, not knowing how sensitive his skin was or how many wounds remained, now hidden under his baggy street clothes.
‘It would hurt more if you didn’t sit beside me,’ he said, his eyes bright, and she snuggled against him, buoyed up by his old humour and feeling safer than she had done for many months.
Flo was handing round cups of tea but Stan had brought out the Scotch, which he reserved for the most special of occasions. He poured out several tots and passed them around. Billy took one eagerly. Harry demurred. ‘Better not, Pa,’ he said. ‘Too many pills inside me already. Isn’t that right, Edie?’
Edith nodded. ‘Yes, best not to mix them. I’ll have yours,’ she said daringly, and Stan laughed as she took a sip and pulled a face. ‘Delicious!’ she said with determination.
Kathleen was smiling at Billy. ‘Scotch at this time of the day, and on a Sunday too!’ she remonstrated gently. She dug him in the ribs.
He glanced sideways at her. ‘Dutch courage,’ he muttered.
She raised her head to his. ‘Really? Are we going to tell them?’
Billy hesitated and then nodded. ‘I reckon we should. I don’t want to steal young Alan’s limelight, but what with Harry being here an’ all, it seems right. We’ll pick our moment.’
They allowed the other guests to eddy around them, loading plates with food, setting down their drinks, chatting to one another, sitting down to rest their feet. Billy answered everybody who came over to ask if he was a proud godfather and how he was going to help look after the boy, but half his mind was on Kathleen. In fact, his mind had been on Kathleen every waking minute from that day when he had finally told her that he loved her and she had made his life complete by admitting she loved him too. Through all the difficult days of trying to keep the docks operating despite the damage, the nightly ARP shifts, the everyday ups and downs, his heart was singing. Nothing could touch him; her love had made him invincible. He sailed through his work, despite the perpetual threat of danger from the skies, happier than he had ever been, knowing she was his at last.
Stan stood up and called for everyone’s attention. ‘I’d like us all to raise a toast to the newest member of the family,’ he said. ‘We all wish his father was here with us, and his uncle Joe who’s dying to meet him, but I’m more pleased than I can say to have our Harry here, when we never thought we’d see him here again.’ He paused so that his voice did not betray his strong emotion at having his own son there with them, where he belonged. Then he steadied himself and continued. ‘To his lovely mother, and to the two marvellous nurses who helped with the birth, and to our very good friend Kathleen, who raised the alarm, with the help of the new godfather, Billy. But most of all, to Alan.’ He lifted his drink and everyone followed suit, whether it was a teacup, bottle of beer, glass of whisky or simply water.
‘To Alan.’
Then, as the noise died down, Billy stepped forward.
‘I’d like to add something, if that’s all right with you, Stan.’
Stan nodded immediately.
‘I’m very proud to be this baby’s godfather,’ Billy began, running his hand through his dark curls, trying not to feel too awkward in his formal suit and tie. ‘None of us who were there that night will forget his birth in a hurry.’ A ripple of laughter went around the room, as everybody had heard the story by now. ‘But, and don’t take this the wrong way, Alan, I’m even prouder … even prouder …’ For a moment he could not continue. ‘Prouder to announce that Kathleen here has agreed to be my wife.’ A gasp went up and then murmurs of congratulation. ‘Now that Ray’s been dead for some time’ – he quickly glanced at Kathleen and then away again – ‘we thought it would be all right to go ahead. So perhaps the next party invitation will be to our wedding.’
‘Hear, hear!’ shouted Peggy, as she knocked back the rest of her whisky and accepted another from Stan, who was doing the rounds.
Mattie hurried over to congratulate her friends and hug Kathleen, followed by Alice and Flo.
Edith looked up at Harry and squeezed his hand very carefully. He gazed back at her, amusement in his eyes, a smile on his face despite his scars. ‘Well, Miss Gillespie?’ he murmured. ‘What do you say?’
She tutted. ‘What do you think? I say yes, just like I did the first time you asked.’
‘Even though I’m an old crock now? I’m not the man you first knew, so you got to be sure.’
Edith glared at him in a mixture of exasperation and love. ‘Harry Banham, you are exactly the man I knew before, the man I fell in love with. You’ll have to do better than that to shake me off, I warn you now. I’m not going anywhere but by your side. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’
Harry nodded. ‘Good. Just checking.’ Then he slowly leant forward and, ignoring all the people around them, kissed her softly on the mouth, as if she was the most precious thing in the world.
Read on for a Q&A with Jenny Shaw, the author behind Annie Groves
Wartime for the District Nurses is part of series which started with The District Nurses of Victory Walk. Where did you get the inspiration for the books?
I liked the idea of writing about a group of women – mostly young women – wh
o were brought together from different backgrounds to work for a common cause. They’ve all gone into nursing for their own reasons but none of them could have known the sort of challenges they’d have to face once the war began. The community relies on them and that means they have to rely on each other. I thought there would be plenty of room for drama in that situation and I myself like reading books where there’s a strong theme of female friendship. After all, you can’t get far in life without your friends.
The setting of Hackney and Dalston in the east of London is very vivid, did you know the area before you started?
Yes, I lived in Hackney for many years and loved it. It’s been through many changes and I’m not sure the characters in the book would recognise it these days, but for me it’s always been a place where people looked out for one another. The house where the Banhams live is very much based on one I regularly used to walk past, even though the street is made up. So is Victory Walk, but again it’s loosely based on one that friends lived on. I wanted it to be within walking distance of Hackney Downs and within easy reach of Victoria Park, as so many people through the ages have used those two open spaces to get away from the cares of everyday life – even if during the war they were edged with trenches.
How much research did it involve?
I always knew that area had been badly affected by the war. In my old street there was a big gap between the terraced houses where a bomb had landed, in which the council then built a block of flats that looked very different. It was still a shock to read the records of exactly how many bombs had landed in a relatively small area, and to try to imagine what it must have been like. It was fascinating to be able to read the wartime editions of the magazine produced for the Queen’s Nurses (one of the main organisations for district nurses), which not only gave details of what was then the most up to date way of treating common diseases but advertised the latest fashions in nurses’ uniforms.