by Ellie Dean
She was just thinking how pleasant it would be to stroll up to the station on this lovely warm August evening without the hindrance of Daisy and her pram, when the telephone rang. She turned to Sarah who was laying the table. ‘Get that, dear, would you? And if it’s Doris, tell her I’ve gone out. I can’t be dealing with her today.’
She placed the tin of supper in her basket, musing on how nice it was to get the chance to escape motherly duties now and then and just be herself when Sarah came back from the hall. One look at her pale, shocked face told Peggy that something bad must have happened.
‘That was Gloria from the Crown,’ said Sarah. ‘April’s had an accident and Ron’s gone with her to the hospital in the ambulance.’
Peggy stared at her, unable to absorb what she was hearing. ‘Gloria? April? Accident?’ Then she snapped out of it and reached for her handbag, gas-mask box and jacket. ‘At the hospital with Ron, you say? Did Gloria give you any details?’
‘She just said she’s been badly hurt and that we should get to the hospital pronto.’
‘Right, tell the others when they get in and look after Daisy. I’ll phone the moment I get any more news.’ Peggy kissed Daisy’s curly head hastily and then ran out of the back door, bag, gas-mask box and jacket flying.
She ran all the way down Camden Road, ignoring everyone and swerving impatiently around knots of gossiping women and ambling walkers. Skidding round the imposing pillars at the gateway to the hospital, she pulled on her jacket as she took the steps two at a time and then headed through the vast reception area into the Casualty department.
Ron was grim-faced and pacing the floor at the far end of the waiting room, and Harvey lay still and mournful-eyed beneath a row of chairs. Peggy knew then that April’s accident had been serious. ‘How is she?’ she panted.
In reply, Ron gently took her by the shoulders and pressed her down into a hard wooden chair. He took her hands in his. ‘She’s with the doctor now, Peggy,’ he said solemnly, ‘being prepared for an operation.’
Peggy could only stare at him as awful images flashed through her mind.
‘There’s a hairline fracture in her skull, and another in her jaw. The surgeon assures me that under normal circumstances such operations are almost commonplace and the patient is expected to fully recover.’ He gripped her hands. ‘But there are complications with April.’
Dread weighed heavily round her heart. ‘What complications?’ she managed hoarsely. ‘Is it the baby?’
‘It certainly has a bearing,’ he said gruffly. ‘You see, April caught a fist in the midriff which broke a rib and caused some bruising to her intestines.’
Peggy reeled back in shock. ‘A fist! Someone punched April?’
‘It’s not like you think, Peggy, and I’ll explain it all later,’ he soothed. ‘For now you have to listen to me and try to stay calm.’ His gaze was steady, his hands gripping her to keep her still. ‘Do you think you can do that?’
Peggy didn’t think she’d ever be calm again, but Ron looked so determined to have his say, and Rita was hurrying towards them, her face such a picture of anguish, that she swallowed her rage and did her best to get her emotions under control.
‘What’s happened, Auntie Peg?’ Rita asked. ‘I saw you run past the fire station so I knew something must be up.’
Ron repeated what he’d told Peggy. ‘I was just explaining that there are complications,’ he said. ‘Having suffered a blow to the abdomen, the surgeon is afraid that April might go into early labour during the operation. And if she does, then he and the gynaecologist might have to face the almost impossible option of saving either the baby or the mother.’
Peggy closed her eyes. ‘Dear God in heaven,’ she breathed. ‘How can any mortal man be expected to do such a thing?’
‘To be sure ’twill be God’s decision in the end,’ Ron muttered. ‘But when I was a boy I remember my mam telling me that in such circumstances Catholics believe that the child should be saved.’
‘But April’s not a Catholic,’ said Rita. ‘And I can’t see how leaving a child motherless can do it any good at all.’
‘Surely there must be a way to save them both?’ breathed Peggy, who was trying very hard not to cry.
‘He promised he and the consultant gynaecologist will do their very best,’ said Ron. ‘And you never know, she might not go into labour, in which case they’ll both have a fighting chance of coming through this.’
Peggy struggled to keep calm as Ron told them what had happened outside the Crown. She was shocked that a group of men could have been so caught up in their fight that they were oblivious to the vulnerable pregnant woman in their midst and horrified to learn that she’d been punched by a flying fist – the owner of which should have been clapped in irons! Patiently, Ron answered her and Rita’s questions, then the three of them fell silent and sat there deep in their thoughts as the busy life of the department went on around them. Harvey crept beneath the chairs until he was curled behind Ron’s sturdy legs out of sight of the bustling nurses and doctors and the omnipresent eye of Matron.
Peggy struggled to keep her worst fears at bay as the clock on the wall ticked away the time and still there was no word from theatre. Rita went off to try and track down Fran, but she was in theatre and not expected out for at least another two hours, so she got everyone a cup of tea and returned to the waiting room. Ron telephoned Beach View and the Anchor to pass on the news, and shortly afterwards, Gloria Stevens came marching in with Rosie.
‘I bumped into Rose outside,’ said Gloria. ‘How’s she doing?’
Peggy was surprised to see them together, for she knew they didn’t really like one another. But then news travelled fast in Cliffehaven – especially bad news – and in times of crisis people put aside their differences and came together. She noticed that Ron looked decidedly uncomfortable as he relayed the news again, and Peggy suspected his conscience was troubling him now he was faced with the two women.
Gloria pulled a small bottle of brandy from her vast handbag. ‘I thought you could all do with a snifter,’ she said. ‘I know I could.’ She filled the metal measuring cup and swigged it back before passing the bottle and cup to Ron.
When it came to Peggy’s turn she drank gratefully and handed the almost empty bottle back. She was about to ask Gloria for all the details of what had happened when she caught a heart-warming sight.
Sarah was in charge of Daisy and her pushchair, and Ivy had tight hold of Cordelia’s arm as well as a large basket as they walked into the waiting area and made their slow way towards them. And behind them were Ethel and Ruby.
‘I thought Ethel should know,’ said Sarah, parking the pushchair. ‘And none of us could bear staying at home not knowing what was happening, so once Bertie brought Cordelia back, we packed up the supper and brought it along with fresh flasks of hot, sweet tea. I didn’t think you’d mind the added sugar, not at a time like this.’
‘Not at all,’ said Peggy. ‘It was a lovely thought, but I doubt any of us have an appetite just now.’
Cordelia was clearly upset, and she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘Is there any news on how the operation’s going?’ she asked.
‘We just have to wait,’ said Peggy, taking her soft hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze.
Ethel plumped herself down and started rolling a cigarette. ‘You’d better tell me what’s going on,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t want Stan ’earing about this and getting the wrong end of the stick and worrying ’imself silly.’
Gloria and Ron took it in turns to tell everyone the full story. When Ron repeated what the doctor had said, he was met with a stunned silence. Cordelia was pale and on the verge of tears, and Ruby and the other girls did their best to comfort her, although they too were reeling in shock.
‘It’s probably best he saves April and lets the baby go,’ said Ethel into the heavy silence. ‘After all, she were going to give it away anyway.’
Everyone gasped and stared at he
r in disgust. Ruby shot her a furious glare and gave her a sharp jab in the ribs with her elbow. ‘Mum, that sort of talk ain’t called for,’ she hissed.
‘If you ain’t got anything sensible or kind to say, Ethel,’ snapped Gloria, ‘then I suggest you shut your gob.’
‘There ain’t no need to speak to me like that,’ huffed Ethel. ‘I only said what everyone were thinkin’. April didn’t want it in the first place – and in the second place, she’s still young enough to find ’erself an ’usband and ’ave more kids. It’d be the best thing all round, if you ask me.’
‘Nobody asked you nothing,’ growled Gloria. ‘And if you don’t shut your filthy gob right this minute I’ll flaming well shut it for you.’ Gloria’s meaty fist was now wavering inches from Ethel’s nose.
‘That’s quite enough from both of you,’ snapped Rosie. ‘April could be dying on that operating table – the baby too – so either shut up or get out.’
Gloria had the decency to look ashamed at her outburst, and uncurled her fist. Ruby glowered at her mother, still appalled at her cruel tongue, and Harvey crept further behind Ron as if to keep well out of the firing line.
Peggy saw Ron give Rosie a sly wink, then he glared beneath his brows at Ethel, who was now puffing furiously on her cigarette, arms tightly folded, avoiding everyone’s gaze. The fraught atmosphere had been further soured by that show of nastiness, and Peggy wished Ethel would leave. She clearly didn’t want to be here, and for all her recent show of warming to April, she seemed not to really care what happened to her or her baby.
They drank the tea and smoked cigarettes as the time ticked away and no one came to tell them anything. Daisy began to get restless and was making a bit of a nuisance of herself, so Rita offered to take her back to Beach View and put her to bed.
‘I don’t know about you, Rose,’ said Gloria, ‘but I got a pub to run, and that new girl ain’t too reliable.’ She gathered up her things. ‘But I tell yer what, mate, there ain’t gunna be a Yank of any flamin’ colour in my pub again – not for a long while. More trouble than they’re flamin’ worth, with their fightin’ and the filthy way they talk to them coloured boys.’
‘It’d certainly be something to consider,’ sighed Rosie. ‘I’ve had a couple of incidents lately, but luckily managed to nip it in the bud before it got out of hand. I really can’t understand why the Americans can’t get on with one another – after all, they’re all fighting the same bloody war.’
Gloria nodded in agreement. She shot a venomous glance at Ethel and then turned to Ron. ‘Let me know the minute you hear anything – no matter what the time. I probably won’t sleep easy tonight anyway.’
After she and Rosie had left, Ethel looked at the clock and picked up her bag and gas-mask box. ‘It’s time to visit Stan. I won’t say nothing to ’im. Don’t want ’im having another heart attack, do I?’
Ruby glowered at her. ‘He’ll never forgive you if she dies and you said nothing. He has a right to know, Mum.’
Ethel looked at Ruby with narrowed eyes. ‘I know what’s best for Stan,’ she said crossly, ‘and don’t forget you got yer late shift tonight. We still got rent to pay and food to buy, no matter what’s going on.’ With that, she stomped off.
With Ethel gone the atmosphere lightened somewhat, but the continued silence from the surgeon was beginning to make them all fearful. ‘Do you think I ought to telephone her mother, Ron?’ Peggy asked.
‘Aye, it might be wise, but it’ll take her time to get here.’
‘If she bothers at all,’ said Peggy acidly. She dug about in her handbag and gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Have you got any money on you for the phone box? Only I don’t seem to have brought my purse.’
Ron handed over all his loose change and Peggy hurried off. It would mean making a trunk call, which was expensive, but this was an emergency and Mildred had a right to know that her daughter’s life hung by a thread.
The red telephone box was just outside the main entrance and Peggy stepped inside, letting the door swing closed behind her as she piled the money on top of the coin box and searched in her bag for her address book. Once she’d found Mildred’s number, she lifted the receiver and was relieved when Vera Gardener answered. She quickly explained what had happened and was put through immediately.
The telephone rang and rang and Peggy didn’t think Mildred could be at home, but just as she was about to hang up, the receiver was lifted at the other end, so she quickly fumbled a coin into the slot and pressed button A.
‘Mildred? It’s Peggy Reilly,’ she said breathlessly.
‘If she’s gone into labour then I’m not a bit interested,’ said Mildred.
Peggy tamped down on the stab of anger and quickly told her the reason she was telephoning.
There was a long silence at the other end.
‘Mildred, are you still there? I know this must come as an awful shock to you, and I’m sorry to be the bearer of such terrible news, but I really do think you should come. April needs you.’
‘I can’t possibly just drop everything in the middle of the night and get on a train,’ said Mildred indignantly. ‘I’ll do my best to get a travel permit tomorrow once I’ve organised someone to take over my business establishment, but I can’t promise anything.’
Peggy was filled with such fury she could barely speak. ‘Your daughter and her baby might be dead by then, Mildred,’ she said icily. ‘But if you can live with the knowledge that you turned your back on them in what could be your daughter’s last hours, then God help you.’
She slammed down the receiver and had to take a moment to get her breath back. But she swore then and there that if Mildred didn’t come, she’d damned well go to Tunbridge Wells and drag her here.
Stan had been permitted by Matron to get dressed and sit in the visitors’ lounge as he was due to be discharged within a few days. He kept glancing eagerly at the door, waiting for Ethel and Ruby to arrive, but as the other visitors came in and the time ticked away, he began to feel uneasy. They’d never been late before, and had both promised to come tonight, so where were they?
He fidgeted in the easy chair, flicked through an old magazine and then tossed it aside. Something must have happened. He could feel it in his bones, and it made him shiver. A glance at the clock told him there were only twenty minutes to go before the bell went for the end of visiting time. He couldn’t just sit here, he thought fretfully, he’d go mad with worry.
Stan hauled himself out of the chair, checked on the number of coins he had in his pockets, and made his way along the corridor to the payphone at the end. He could feel his heart begin to thud, and his breathing was a bit ragged, but he had to telephone the station and speak to April. The worst thing about being incarcerated in this place was the suspicion that no one told him anything of any importance in case it upset him, and he was fed up and frustrated at being kept in the dark. But April was a good girl, and if she realised he was worried, then she’d tell him straight if something had happened.
He was on the point of lifting the receiver when he heard the unmistakable sound of Ethel’s voice. ‘What you doing out ’ere, Stan?’
He turned guiltily and shot her a smile of relief. ‘I was about to telephone April and find out where you’d got to,’ he said after he’d kissed her. ‘I was worried something had happened to you and Ruby.’
‘Silly old sod,’ she said with affectionate impatience. ‘I were late off shift, that’s all, and Ruby ’ad to go in early.’
There was something in her manner that made Stan look at her more sharply. ‘Are you sure that’s all it was? Nothing’s happened I should know about?’
Her gaze slid away from him and she began to dig in her handbag for her cigarettes. ‘Course not,’ she retorted. ‘Whatever give you that idea?’
Stan was more certain than ever that something was going on. He stilled her hand and drew her towards him. ‘Look at me, Ethel,’ he said evenly. ‘Look me in the eye and tell me the truth.’
She reluctantly lifted her chin, and although she tried to appear defiant, her expression told him she was hiding something. ‘You’d do better to go and sit down,’ she said. ‘I can tell you ain’t feeling the full ticket.’
‘That’s because I’m worried,’ he replied. ‘What’s the real reason you were late?’
She took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. ‘I’ll tell you, but you gotta sit down first. I don’t like the sound of yer breathing.’
Stan didn’t much care for it either and as his chest was feeling tight, he meekly allowed Ethel to steer him back to the visitors’ room. He plumped down in the chair and fixed her with a steady gaze. ‘Tell me.’
As Ethel hesitantly told him what had happened his heart rate increased and his chest seemed to tighten. He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket for the little pill the doctor had given him for such occasions and slipped it under his tongue.
‘I knew I shouldn’t have told yer,’ said a frantic Ethel. ‘But you went on and on and now look at yer. I’m getting the doctor.’
‘Stay where you are,’ Stan ordered weakly. ‘I’ll be fine as long as you don’t make a fuss.’
He tried to relax and let the pill do its work as Ethel sniffled at his side, but he was frightened at how easily he’d become unwell – and terrified that his beloved April might die before he got the chance to see her again.
‘Oh, Gawd, Stan, I wish you’d let me get a doctor to see to you.’
He waved his hand dismissively at this suggestion, wishing she’d be still and let him concentrate on getting his heart rate back to normal.
‘I should never ’ave told yer,’ she sobbed. ‘I knew it weren’t right, despite Ruby insisting I should.’
His breathing finally became easier, and the tightness in his chest slowly disappeared. ‘I’m glad you did,’ he said. ‘April’s very dear to me, and if anything happened to her, I’m afraid I would find it hard to forgive you for keeping silent.’
‘I’m sorry, Stan,’ she said, mopping up her tears. ‘But I were that worried about ’ow you’d take it. I thought I were doing the best thing.’