Survivor

by Lesley Pearse

  But gradually she slipped into the place where he put everything that was ‘before the accident’. He didn’t want to see anyone from that time, or even think about them, because to do so would only bring home to him what he’d lost.

  Books took the place of women in his life. They took him to places he’d never been, they taught him things, made him laugh and comforted him too. He told himself no woman could do that for him.

  But then, suddenly, there she was in the side ward, with that strawberry-blonde hair, the wide blue eyes, and that soft mouth that he’d so often woken from dreaming about. He’d heard rumours that a heroine of the French Resistance had been brought in with a bullet lodged in her knee. He’d taken that with a pinch of salt as rumours like that circulated around the hospital almost every day, and the truth was usually something quite dull.

  But then, when he saw who the supposed heroine was, he did believe Mariette was capable of it. She’d been daring – unique, even – and that vital spark she’d had was never destined for an ordinary life.

  The surgeon who had removed the bullet from Mariette’s knee was in London and couldn’t be contacted. When her temperature soared higher, and she became delirious, Morgan begged the ward sister to call for Mr Mercer.

  She agreed, but Mercer wasn’t able to come immediately as he was in the middle of a delicate operation. By the time he did arrive and examined Mariette, the expression on his face, and the rank smell coming from the wound, left no doubt in Morgan’s mind that Mercer knew amputation was the only course open to him. But he didn’t say so, he just told the ward sister he would have to open the wound again and take a look around.

  He asked Morgan to bring Mariette straight to the theatre.

  Once Morgan had delivered her, he took a seat in the corridor by the theatre to wait. He intended to stay, however long it took.

  But it wasn’t long, just half an hour, before Mr Mercer came out of the theatre, removing his mask.

  ‘I understand she is an old friend of yours?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, she is,’ Morgan replied. ‘It’s bad news, isn’t it?’

  George Mercer had a great deal of respect for Morgan. He admired the way he’d dealt with his injury, never complaining, or seeking to blame others for his misfortune. He’d stuck doggedly at learning to read and then used it to educate himself. That was why he had argued Morgan’s case with the hospital board, so he could train as a nurse, while continuing to act as a porter too. The idea had broken new ground, but he didn’t know anyone in the Borough who didn’t believe Morgan was an asset to the hospital.

  It was quite obvious that this girl meant a lot to him, and George felt sorry for both her and Morgan.

  ‘I had to remove her leg just above the knee. The infection had got too strong a hold for me to save it. It’s a tragedy for someone so young and lovely, especially as I believe she was shot helping people escape from France. There are times when life just isn’t fair.’

  Morgan felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He remembered Mari in shorts on the ship, those shapely long legs attracting the eye of every passing male. He knew her interests were all physical ones – swimming, sailing and cycle rides. This wasn’t just unfair, it was cruel.

  ‘I see from the hospital notes that she is from New Zealand. Are her parents over here? Is there anyone we can contact?’

  Morgan took a moment or two to compose himself, then explained that he thought the only person to notify was her landlady, who had visited Mari earlier. ‘She will know how to contact her parents,’ he added. ‘And if it’s alright with you, sir, I’ll stay here to take Mari back to the ward when she’s ready, and I’ll remain with her.’

  When Mariette came round and saw Morgan sitting beside her bed, she tried to smile.

  He lifted her a little and held a glass of water to her lips for her to take a few sips.

  ‘They took my leg off, didn’t they?’ she said as he laid her down again.

  Morgan hadn’t intended to tell her straight off, but he couldn’t lie when she’d asked him a direct question.

  ‘Yes, Mari, they had no choice. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Just before they put me under, I heard the nurse say something about the smell. So I knew that meant it would have to come off.’

  Her voice was flat and emotionless. Whether this was resignation, or because she was still under the effect of the anaesthetic, he didn’t know.

  ‘They make amazing prosthetic limbs now,’ he assured her. ‘I saw people with them all the time at Netley. Once you get used to it, you’ll be able to do everything you did before.’

  Mariette closed her eyes again.

  She was too sleepy to talk. And what was there to talk about anyway?

  32

  Sybil had to sit down when Morgan telephoned her about Mariette. He said he had put himself forward to break the awful news to her because he felt it would be better coming from someone who really knew Mariette.

  It did help Sybil, because the way his voice cracked with emotion was evidence that he was very fond of Mariette and as distressed as Sybil herself.

  He said he’d had a lot of experience with amputees at Netley Military Hospital, so he knew the problems, and what could be done to help them improve their life. Sybil had no doubt that in a few weeks she, Belle and Etienne would be glad to talk such things over with him, but right now she was too shocked to think beyond what this would mean for Mariette, and how she would tell her family.

  Once Sybil had put the phone down, she burst into tears. It was too awful for words, and yet she knew she must ring Belle right away because it would be morning in New Zealand now. Then there was Edwin; she would have to ring the number at the airfield and try to get hold of him. It was a bit odd that he hadn’t rushed down to see Mariette as soon as he knew she was hurt, but maybe he couldn’t get leave. But to have to tell him now that his girlfriend had lost her leg was frightful.

  But telling Belle would be much, much worse. How did you tell any mother that her beautiful and brave daughter was now crippled?

  Morgan had said he believed Mariette would just accept it. He said his experience was that those who took big risks, as she had, were usually the most stoic.

  Sybil hoped he was right. She had never seen any vanity in Mariette, despite her good looks. But she did remember the girl laughingly admitting that, back in Russell, she’d thought she was the cat’s pyjamas.

  But however much you thought you knew someone, sometimes, in a crisis, they could do the exact opposite to what you expected. Sybil couldn’t be sure how anyone would react to such news.

  Belle did not take Sybil’s news calmly. She broke into hysterical crying and her friend Peggy, at the bakery, had to take the phone and say they’d ring back later, when Belle had composed herself.

  It was Etienne who eventually rang back; he said Belle was in pieces.

  ‘Her first husband lost a leg and an arm in the last war,’ he explained, his French accent making Sybil feel quite fluttery. ‘He became a changed man because of it, and Belle is afraid that is what will happen to Mari.’

  ‘I can understand her fear,’ Sybil agreed. ‘I can barely take it in because it was such a short while ago that I was with her, and she seemed fine then. But you must tell Belle that I don’t think Mari is the kind to feel sorry for herself, or let it spoil her life. Of course, it’s far too early to speculate on what she will or won’t do. But she has an old friend, Morgan, there with her, and I think he’ll help her to come to terms with it. It was he who rang me to break the bad news.’

  She told Etienne that Mariette had met Morgan on the ship coming to England, but omitted the fact that they’d had a fling. She explained that, as a result of facial burns at Dunkirk, Morgan had lost touch with her, and they’d only met again by chance as he worked at the Borough Hospital.

  ‘I asked around about him before I left,’ she added. ‘People couldn’t say enough good things about him, and it was he who alerted the ward sister
that Mariette was poorly.’

  ‘I see.’ Etienne’s tone was sharp, and Sybil suspected he didn’t like the idea of a damaged man helping his daughter. ‘What about Edwin? Has he been to see her yet?’

  ‘Not yet, but I’m sure he will get some leave to see her soon. I’m afraid I’m not able to go back to the hospital for a couple of days. But please reassure your wife that I will, just as soon as I can. I hope you don’t mind, but I gave your number to Morgan and suggested he telephoned you. As he works at the hospital and will be seeing Mari a couple of times a day, he is far better placed to explain things to you than I am.’

  She ended the call by telling Etienne that Mariette was welcome to come back to Sidmouth to live with her and Ted, whenever she was able to. ‘We think of her as family, not as an employee. We’ll look after her, as if she was our own, until the war is over and she can go home to you.’

  When Sybil hung up, Etienne leaned his forehead against the wall and sobbed. It had been bad enough to know his daughter been shot, but he had never expected her to lose her leg. He’d thought horror like that had died with the last war. He cried for some little time before wiping his face and going back into Peggy’s living room.

  Belle was still sobbing her heart out in her friend’s arms. ‘I should never have let her go to England,’ she wailed. ‘I was being selfish because I was fed up with worrying about her. What sort of mother does that make me?’

  ‘That is rubbish! It was not selfishness. We wanted her to have more chances than she had here,’ he said firmly, taking Belle out of Peggy’s arms and enfolding her in his own. ‘Now look, just think how much worse it could be. She could be dead – next to that, a missing leg isn’t so bad.

  ‘But remember, Belle, this is our Mari. She got this injury because she was brave and strong-willed, and she was protecting children. She’s not going to take to her bed, or give up on life. She’ll fight her disability, you’ll see.’

  He told her then what Sybil had said about Morgan. He might be suspicious of the man’s motives, but he knew it would comfort Belle to think she had an old friend in the hospital.

  ‘In one of the letters she wrote home while she was on the ship, she mentioned someone called Morgan. He worked in the sickbay and looked like Errol Flynn.’ Belle mopped at her eyes and tried to smile. ‘Mog said she hoped he wasn’t a womanizer, like the actor.’

  ‘I doubt he looks like him any more, if his face was burned,’ Etienne said. ‘Fate can be so cruel sometimes, yet sometimes kindly too. Fancy Mari ending up in the same hospital where he works.’

  ‘Do you suppose Edwin will appreciate a man from her past turning up?’ Belle asked.

  ‘It didn’t sound as if Edwin was pulling out all the stops to see her,’ Etienne said, frowning. ‘So maybe it wasn’t a serious love affair, after all. I wonder how he’ll react to hearing she’s lost her leg?’

  ‘I’d say with fear,’ Belle sighed. ‘I was terrified, when I heard about Jimmy’s injuries. Not very compassionate, I know, but that’s the truth. I don’t feel that way about Mari, though, only desperately sad for her.’

  A lone tear ran down Etienne’s cheek. ‘I can’t imagine our beautiful, perfect daughter with a limb missing. I’ve got a ball of misery inside me, and I can’t imagine anything will ever take it away.’

  Mariette didn’t want to think about what life would be like for her with only one leg. She found that by taking any painkillers offered to her, and closing her eyes and shutting down mentally, she could sleep for most of the day and night. She was continually woken, of course, for dressing changes, for checks on her temperature and blood pressure, and for meals too. But, for the most part, the time just slipped by.

  Sybil was very weepy when she came to visit Mariette, two days after the amputation.

  Mariette told her not to come again as it was a long journey and too distressing. ‘I don’t need reminders of how I used to be,’ she said. ‘I’m OK alone, I’m just letting my body and mind heal until I’m strong enough to try out crutches. I know you and Ted care about me, and I love you for that. But you’ve got a pub to run.’

  But if seeing Sybil was difficult, when Edwin arrived on the third day with a huge bouquet of flowers, it was far worse. He looked very handsome in his uniform, and she guessed that he’d made quite a few of the nurses’ hearts flutter, but he was so ill at ease. He went through the motions of kissing her, holding her tight as if nothing had changed, but she noticed how stiff he was, and how his eyes kept wandering towards the cage under the bedclothes. She sensed he was afraid he would have to look at her stump. That was ridiculous as she had no intention of showing it to anyone, least of all to him.

  ‘You can tell me how you really feel,’ she said. ‘It’s better to talk about it honestly.’

  ‘I love you just the same, with or without your leg,’ he said, far too quickly.

  ‘That isn’t true,’ she said. ‘You are afraid of what it looks like, and what it would be like to be seen out with a girl on crutches. But that’s alright. I’d be exactly the same, if it was you who had lost a leg.’

  But that wasn’t the only problem Edwin had with her. She sensed that losing her leg had just put the tin lid on the other anxieties he had.

  ‘Why do you always have to force issues?’ he said crossly. ‘It seems to me it’s a cultural thing with Australians and New Zealanders. I’ve come across a few of your airmen, and they are all the same. Have to get everything out for an airing, regardless of who they embarrass or upset.’

  Mariette would agree that by and large colonials were more outspoken than the British middle-class male appeared to be. But she resented that he would try to blame her nationality for wanting to understand his feelings.

  ‘Well, I’m going to force another bloody issue too,’ she snapped. ‘You have been aware for some time that your family wouldn’t approve of me. But if they didn’t like the sound of a colonial barmaid, what will they say to your one-legged girlfriend? You know perfectly well it’s going to cause a terrible stink, but you just don’t know how to tell me that without looking like a real cad.’

  He looked horrified at her outburst and tried to say she was mistaken.

  ‘Come off it, Edwin. I’m not a fool. You thought I was wonderful, at first. But when your family started asking awkward questions, you drew back from me. You’ve never taken me home to meet them because you knew how it would be.’

  ‘That isn’t true,’ he said. ‘My parents are stuffy and out of touch, and the only reason I haven’t taken you to meet them is because I know you’ll find them difficult.’

  ‘That amounts to the same thing. But even more importantly, you don’t show any real passion for me.’

  ‘How can you say that?’ he exclaimed, looking outraged. ‘Just because I haven’t tried to persuade you to go for dirty weekends away or to throw you down on the ground in the woods, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to. It’s because I was brought up to believe a gentleman waits until he is married for that.’

  ‘I do know the difference between a man showing respect, and a man who feels no passion at all,’ she retorted. ‘And if you didn’t feel any passion before, you certainly won’t feel any when your hand touches my stump of a leg.’

  ‘You are so crude sometimes,’ he said with distaste.

  ‘And you, Edwin, are a bit of a pansy,’ she said pointedly.

  ‘Are you saying that I’m queer?’ he asked in a shocked voice.

  ‘No. I’m quite sure you’ll rise to the occasion with someone your parents approve of. Just be a man and admit it isn’t me, and then we can go our separate ways.’

  His eyes narrowed, not liking the implication in her words. ‘You haven’t been exactly truthful,’ he shot at her. ‘You must have been training with the Secret Service for months, but you never even gave me a hint of what you were up to. Then you go off to France and don’t say a word about that. How can I think of marrying a girl who keeps such secrets?’

  ‘We’re
at war! All over England there are people keeping secrets like that from their families,’ she retorted. ‘You wouldn’t tell me which city you were going to bomb tonight, would you? But, for your information, I didn’t put myself forward for this work. They contacted me because I could speak fluent French. But how dare you feel aggrieved? I saved lives, you should be proud of me. But perhaps you think there’s only room for one hero? Is that it? You don’t like competition from a mere woman?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m proud of you, but this has all been such a shock.’ He tried to smile, and put his hand on her cheek in a display of affection.

  Mariette wanted to believe him, but she saw the coldness in his eyes, felt the lack of tenderness in his caress.

  ‘Go, Edwin,’ she said, her voice quavering a little because she had hoped for so much more from him. ‘Back to your squadron and your family. No hard feelings, we just weren’t meant for one another.’

  ‘You don’t mean that. You are just overwrought with the shock of it all,’ he said.

  She was overwrought – no doubt she would regret most of what she’d said later – but she knew in her heart of hearts that he wanted to go, he just didn’t like the idea of how bad that would make him look. He probably hoped she would say something really nasty, because then he could leave feeling completely justified, but she had no intention of making it that easy for him.

  ‘I’m letting you off the hook because you are no more use to me than I am to you,’ she said, trying hard not to cry. ‘Go and find yourself a girl your folks approve of. Be happy with her.’

  He took a step towards the door, but then stopped, his expression one of puzzlement. ‘Did you ever love me?’