The G.I. Bride

by Eileen Ramsay

  ‘Come now, there must be someone. Maybe on your mum’s side?’

  April moved away from the older woman’s comforting embrace. ‘I don’t know. I was only eight when she died and I don’t remember much about any of them. They came from Cornwall, but we never visited after the funeral. Although my mum sometimes talked about her childhood and the adventures she had with her twin sister. But I’m not sure I ever met her and I never knew why. The search for her father hasn’t finished yet.’

  ‘There you go. Once you’ve got yourself together, and your poor hands are healed, then maybe you can go to Cornwall to look for her.’

  ‘But what about my training? I can’t not work. How will I live?’

  ‘Think, love. They have hospitals in Cornwall, don’t they? Get down there and find yourself another hospital, and sure as eggs is eggs, the rest will follow.’

  *

  Over the next few weeks, April thought about Mrs O’Connor’s words continually. The search for survivors had continued late into the night, and April herself had cycled to every nearby hospital in the days following the bombing, walking amongst the injured, desperately hoping to find her father. But with so many weeks passed now, April had come to accept he was gone.

  Life with the Osbornes was proving trying. Although Reverend Osborne was incredibly kind, his work in the grieving and shattered parish meant he was rarely home. Mrs Osborne, however, was another matter entirely. Mrs O’Connor had been right about her charity being for show. She had two Belgian refugees living with her, and they worked from morning till night in the vicarage, trying to keep it to Mrs Osborne’s impossible standards. Now Mrs O’Connor had left to live with her sister, there was even more work to do, as, according to Mrs Osborne, ‘You can’t find good help these days for love nor money,’ and Madame Goossens and Madame Martens, two sisters who had fled Belgium with nothing but the clothes they stood up in, were run ragged by her constant demands.

  April was able to avoid the worst of it as she worked such long hours. She also managed to avoid Mrs Osborne for the most part, claiming study or taking on extra shifts just so she wouldn’t have to talk to her. One day, however, much to April’s surprise, Mrs Osborne was waiting up for her when she got back from the hospital.

  ‘Oh, April, you’ll never guess what,’ she gushed as soon as April walked into the living room.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Osborne, is everything all right?’

  ‘It’s so much more than all right.’ She brandished a letter in April’s face. ‘I’ve just had word that Theo will be coming home on leave in a month. Isn’t that wonderful?’

  April felt her stomach sink. ‘Theo?’ she said faintly.

  ‘Yes. And I rushed over to speak to Charlotte to see if she knew anything about it, which of course she did.’ Mrs Osborne giggled girlishly. ‘Those two are awfully close.’

  April smiled stiffly. What was there to say after all? She was glad Theo was well, but he had told her when he left that he wanted to be with Charlotte. The years of friendship that had started when they were just eight and ripened into love as they got older was merely a ‘childish crush’, according to him. But not for April. She had loved him with all her heart, and though the pain of the break-up had lessened slightly, she still missed their friendship terribly. She often wondered what she would do if he wanted her back, because although she still loved him, she wasn’t sure she could ever really trust him again.

  ‘So, I was wondering,’ – Mrs Osborne’s voice cut into her thoughts ‘– if you might enquire as to whether there is a room for you at the nurses’ home so Theo can have his old room back while he’s here. I think he might find it a little . . . unsettling . . . to have you in his room, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, of course. That’s wonderful news. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. I will speak to matron tomorrow, but rooms are scarce and . . .’ April trailed off.

  ‘Yes, well, you can stay here if you must, but do try.’ April kept her expression carefully neutral, then turned and left the room without another word. What on earth was she going to do now?

  *

  In her room – well, Theo’s really – she threw herself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. On top of everything else, how could she cope with seeing Theo again? It was bad enough living with his mother, but to see him and Charlotte together and blissfully happy would be unbearable.

  She thought back over the years. She couldn’t really remember a time when Theo hadn’t been part of her life. After her mother had died, April had found herself isolated at school as her friends found it difficult to know what to say. But not Theo. He made a point of including her in his games, bringing her home to tea when her house was empty, trying to make her laugh. April smiled as she remembered. They’d become a pair without even noticing. And though Theo was lively and funny when he was at school, only April knew his other side. The quieter, gentler side that was passionate about music and longed to play cello in an orchestra.

  But for all his talents, he’d struggled with his schoolwork, whereas April found it easy. So she’d help him after school, and then listen while he played his cello for her. They had been sweet years, she thought, and Theo was wrong to say it had been a childhood crush. She knew he’d loved her as much as she’d loved him. But as they got older, Mrs Osborne suddenly didn’t seem to like her being at the house any more, so they’d gone out instead, exploring London and finding secret places where they could share kisses. She touched her lips at the memory. She could still feel his soft lips on hers . . .

  Stop it, April! You’ll only make yourself feel worse. But she couldn’t help it. The memories came crowding back. Memories of walks in the park, tea in the Lyon’s Corner House, evenings at the picture house watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. She started humming to herself, ‘Cheek By Cheek.’

  ‘Oh, I have to stop this,’ she said out loud. But then the memory of the night her heart broke came back to her suddenly. Theo had been due to leave for his army training in two days, but before he left, they were going to a church dance. She’d noticed that Theo had been getting more withdrawn recently, and they hadn’t seen each other quite as often, but she’d put it down to him worrying about going to war and had tried to be as supportive as she could. She’d been looking forward to the dance for ages, a chance at last to spend time with Theo, but that night, instead of spending time with her, Theo had volunteered to play the piano, while Charlotte Miller, the bishop’s daughter, sang. She’d tried to hide her jealousy, but it had been difficult. Charlotte was so pretty and had such a beautiful voice that she felt plain and shabby by comparison.

  She’d been sipping her orange squash and talking to an old school friend when Mrs Osborne had come up to her. ‘April, my dear. How lovely to see you. Did you come alone?’

  ‘No, Mrs Osborne, Theo brought me.’ As Mrs Osborne knew. April had tried very hard to hide it from Theo, but she had begun to dislike Mrs Osborne intensely.

  ‘He’s such a good boy. So lovely of him to still bring you even though he really wanted to bring Charlotte. Such a marvellous voice, don’t you think? And she does voluntary work at the orphanage. Such a lovely, giving girl. It’s no wonder my Theo is so smitten. Did you know, they spent all last Saturday working together at the soup kitchen? Anyway, I must get on. Do pass on my regards to your father.’

  And just like that, she’d shattered all of April’s dreams. Theo had told her he couldn’t see her last weekend because he was helping his father, but it seemed he’d been lying. She’d looked at Charlotte with her jet-black hair, blue eyes and pale skin. It was no wonder he’d rather be with her. Not only was she beautiful, but she was talented and kind, and her father was a bishop, which made her good enough for Theo in Mrs Osborne’s critical eyes. She’d stared at the two of them, noticing the secret smiles they exchanged as they played, and her heart had twisted in jealousy and anguish.

  She’d said a hasty goodbye to her friend and rushed home in tears.


  When Theo had come to see her the next morning, he’d refused to come in. Instead he stood awkwardly on the doorstep, looking at her with a belligerent expression. After the night before, when she’d cried herself to sleep, April had been in no mood to pander to him, so she’d stood with her arms folded and waited for him to speak.

  ‘Why on earth did you rush off like that? You know I’m leaving tomorrow. The least you could have done was say goodbye.’

  ‘I didn’t feel well, that’s all.’

  ‘Really? You seemed all right to me.’ His tone was petulant.

  ‘Well, your mother told me a few things that made me feel a bit sick. According to her, you are besotted with Charlotte. So besotted in fact that you only took me to the dance out of duty, and you spent the whole day with her last weekend when you said you were busy with your father. And you have the cheek to be cross with me?’ She stopped and looked away. She didn’t want to cry in front of Theo.

  Theo looked shocked. ‘She shouldn’t have said that.’

  ‘Well, are you? Besotted with Charlotte? Have you been stringing me along all this time?’

  Theo looked down at the ground; a guilty child who’d been found out. ‘April . . . You know I love you . . . but I think I love you more as a friend than anything else.’ He looked up again, his eyes sad. ‘I wanted to tell you, but there never seemed to be a good moment. I never intended for my feelings towards Charlotte to grow, but when Mother suggested that perhaps I could accompany her when she sang in church, and then she started inviting her to lunch after the service, and we’d help at the orphanage . . . well, I suppose . . .’

  ‘What do you suppose, Theo?’ April was surprised her voice was so steady.

  ‘April, I think you’re wonderful. Look at you, you’re so beautiful and you’re caring. I really admire that you’re going to be a nurse. And we’ve hardly been apart since we were eight. I don’t know any more whether what I feel for you is more a childish crush or a proper grown-up love. And Charlotte . . . Well, it’s different with her. Do you understand what I mean?’

  April’s heart was breaking, but she stood her ground. ‘No, Theo, not really.’

  Theo took a deep breath, then looked at her with sincere brown eyes, dark hair swept back from his high forehead. April tried not to notice how handsome he was.

  ‘April, now that there’s a war on, I think it’s only fair that you don’t wait for me. I might not come back, and I’d hate to think of you waiting for me when . . .’ He stopped again. ‘There’s no easy way of saying this, but what I mean is, I don’t think you should wait for me because I . . . I’ve asked Charlotte to . . .’

  April had gasped. The pain had been almost physical, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.

  Theo had wrapped his arms around her tightly. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘I will always love you, April. You are my first love.’ He pulled back to look into her eyes and wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. ‘Will you still write to me?’

  April had shaken her head. ‘I think you should go, Theo. If this is how you’ve been feeling, you should have told me sooner.’

  ‘I know, but I just couldn’t bear to hurt you. But Mother said it was only fair to tell you before I went away.’

  ‘You talked about this with your mother! So was this your decision or hers?’

  He’d looked at her regretfully. ‘I’m sorry, I know I’ve upset you, but I’m a grown man and I make my own decisions.’ He’d pulled her into his arms once more. ‘I think I’ll always love you, April. But I think she’s right. We’ve grown up now, and I’ve changed. Stay safe and take care of yourself. I’ll understand if you feel you can’t write to me.’

  April sighed, trying to shake the memories away. She didn’t think she could bear to see Theo and Charlotte together, so she needed to leave this house. She thought about what Mrs O’Connor had said about going to Cornwall. It was time. Her father was gone and she couldn’t stay in this limbo forever. She would speak to matron and see if there was any way she could transfer to a hospital there. Even if she didn’t find any of her family, anything was better than staying where she was with the constant reminder of happier times all around her.

  ‘What do you think, Dad?’ she whispered. ‘Is it a good idea?’

  There was no reply, of course there wasn’t, but her mind was made up. It was time to leave her memories behind once and for all.

  *

  The next day, April went to work with her heart even heavier than usual. But, as she did every day, she tried to push aside her grief and focus on helping the patients. Entering the women’s ward where she was working that week, she went straight over to Alice, one of her favourite patients. Alice had broken both her legs in an air raid and was stuck in traction, and as she and April were around the same age, they’d struck up a quiet friendship.

  ‘Good morning, Alice, how are you this morning?’

  ‘I can’t complain, nurse. And me mum and sister will be in at visiting time. I can’t wait to see them.’

  ‘How lovely. I’m looking forward to meeting them.’

  But that afternoon, when Alice’s mother and sister had arrived, full of hugs and kisses and concern, she wondered, If I were in hospital, who would visit me?

  All of a sudden, the black cloud of loneliness that seemed to follow April wherever she went enveloped her and she rushed away. Taking refuge in a supply cupboard, she sobbed out her heartbreak.

  ‘Oh, pull yourself together, April,’ she said to herself firmly. ‘You’re no use to anyone like this.’ Wiping her eyes on her apron, she straightened her shoulders, grabbed a bandage – so it wouldn’t look like she’d been hiding – and strode back into the ward, hoping that Sister Bartlett, who was not the most sympathetic woman, wouldn’t notice her red eyes. But no such luck.

  The sister saw her the moment she entered the ward. ‘Nurse Harvey, a word, if you please.’

  April walked reluctantly to the nurses’ station. ‘I know you have lost your father and your home, Nurse Harvey,’ Sister Bartlett said in a hushed voice. ‘But look at some of our patients, the people you are supposed to be helping, and thank your lucky stars you’re beside the bed and not in it. Now, do something useful like getting a bed pan to Mrs Latimer over in the corner. She’s been asking for at least half an hour and if you don’t hop to it soon, you’ll be cleaning up the mess, I can promise you, and washing the sheets.’

  ‘Yes, sister. I’m sorry.’ April was mortified and determined to keep her mind on nursing until she was off duty.

  Matron, who had been passing, gave Sister Bartlett a disapproving stare as she bustled past, then she turned to April. ‘When you’ve seen to Mrs Latimer, please come and see me in my office, Nurse Harvey. Don’t worry, my dear,’ she said, noting the alarmed look on April’s face. ‘I just want to have a word to see how you’re getting on. Try not to mind Sister Bartlett, she doesn’t mean to be harsh but she’s dealing with tragedy of her own, I’m afraid. Her son is missing in action.’

  April sped away to do as she was told. Poor Sister Bartlett. She must try to remember she was not the only one to have suffered tragedy; everyone was coping with loss. Sister Bartlett might have been harsh, but she was right. She just had to keep her mind focused on helping where she could. They would not win this war by wallowing in self-pity.

  A few moments later, she knocked on matron’s door, steeling herself for a telling off. But also aware that this was the chance she’d needed to talk about moving to Cornwall.

  ‘Come.’ matron’s voice always sounded formidable, and, trying to remember her kindness, April tentatively opened the door.

  ‘Ah, Nurse Harvey. Take a seat and tell me how you are getting on.’

  April sat, twisting her hands nervously together. ‘I’m all right, thank you, matron.’

  Matron stared at her over her glasses, a speculative look on her face. ‘Are you sure, Nurse Harvey? Because I can quite understand if
you are not, and if that means you need to take a little bit of time off to recover your spirits, then we should try to accommodate you. There is no point in having a nurse on duty who bursts into tears at the drop of a hat.’

  April looked down at her lap in shame, trying to hide the tears that had once again welled up in her eyes.

  ‘No, matron, I’d prefer to keep working. And anyway, I have nowhere else to go . . .’

  ‘Where are you staying at the moment?’

  ‘I’m staying with the vicar and his wife, but I feel I’m imposing . . .’ She looked up at matron. ‘Would it be possible to find a room for me at the nurses’ home?’

  Matron shook her head. ‘There’s so little space since the home was bombed, as you know. I’m afraid it sounds like you have a perfectly good place, and there’s no need for you to take up room in the home. Do you not find it to your liking?’

  ‘Oh no.’ April knew she could not discuss her reasons for disliking Mrs Osborne. ‘The Osbornes are terribly kind, and I’ve known them for many years.’

  ‘Well, then, nurse, all I can suggest is that you keep yourself together on the wards. Think only of the people who need you and depend on you. Allow yourself to fall apart when you are at home alone, and then slowly and carefully put yourself together again. We are here when you need us.’

  ‘Yes, matron. Thank you. But . . .’ She stopped.

  ‘Yes, nurse? Is there something else?’

  April took a deep breath. ‘Matron, I was wondering whether it would be possible to finish my training at another hospital?’

  Matron looked surprised. ‘Well, I suppose it would. But we’d be very sorry to lose you. You are proving to be a most excellent and capable nurse. But why? Do you have family elsewhere?’

  ‘No . . . Well, yes, sort of. My mother was from Cornwall, and I would dearly love to go there and see if I have any family left there.’

  ‘And where in Cornwall was she from?’

  April searched her memory for the answer. ‘I think she was from somewhere near Truro, matron.’