‘Yes, we do. You go off to bed now.’ April bent down and kissed Mrs Teague’s cheek.
But when she got into bed herself, April was kept awake long into the night worrying about her friends and wondering what the future held for all of them.
Chapter 18
The following day, instead of eating lunch, April hurried into town to meet Mrs Teague to try on the dress. The assistant had put it aside, so brought it out for April to try, and once she had it on, she had to admit it did look beautiful.
‘Well, April? How does it look?’ Mrs Teague said impatiently through the curtain. April stepped out to show her.
‘Oh my!’ Mrs Teague put her hand to her chest. ‘Don’t you look a picture. Now turn round, dear, and let me fasten it.’
April felt like Cinderella. She was sure she’d never owned anything so lovely in her life. She tentatively touched the appliqué.
‘I like it very much. Is it terribly expensive?’ she asked the shop assistant.
‘I was going to ask for two guineas but I’ll say two pounds.’
‘April, I told you not to worry about that. I have the money right here, and I can think of nothing I’d rather spend it on.’
April thought quickly. She didn’t have enough money quite yet, but if she paid a bit a week, it wouldn’t take her long to pay her landlady back. ‘All right. I’ll have it. But I’m going to pay you back.’
‘Nonsense. Now go and get changed while I pay.’
‘You’ve made the right decision,’ the assistant said. ‘He’ll fall in love with you all over again.’
April blushed and Mrs Teague laughed with delight. ‘He will, won’t he? Such a beauty you are, lovely.’
Once the purchase was completed, Mrs Teague insisted she had to rush back home. ‘I’ve got gardening and cooking and washing, my love, so I better go. I’ll take the dress with me, save you carrying it.’
They were crossing the street when Mrs Teague caught her arm. ‘Look, dear, isn’t that Red with that young troublemaker, Bess?’
April looked across in surprise; she hadn’t realised that Bess and Red had kept in touch after the dance.
‘Well, bless my soul. They look very cosy, don’t you think? The cheek of it, after she’s given you such a hard time about the major. I’m going over to say hello.’
‘No, Mrs Teague, I don’t think . . .’
But it was too late. Mrs Teague, looking tall and a little fierce, was sailing towards them at speed. There was nothing April could do but trail nervously behind her.
‘Is that you, Red? How wonderful. It’s been weeks since we saw you. When did you get back, my dear?’
Red looked up and a broad smile crossed his face. ‘Why, Mrs T and April. I’ve not been back long, and you were going to be my very next call. What have you been up to?’
‘We’ve just been to the shops and got April the most perfect dress for a very special occasion. She looks such a picture in it. Oh, I’m happy to see you back safe and sound. Aren’t we, April?’
April, who was aware that Bess hadn’t moved, merely smiled and nodded.
‘A special occasion, eh? That sounds mighty intriguing.’
‘Well, if you come round, we can tell you all about it. Oh, do come, Red. Maybe at the weekend, if you can. We’ve missed seeing you, haven’t we, April?’
Bess interjected at that. ‘Oh yes, April misses a lot of men, don’t you?’ she sneered.
Mrs Teague looked at her in annoyance, while Red glanced between the two young women in confusion.
‘I was sorry to hear about the hospital, April. But I heard all about you saving that little boy with Major Dunbar. Yes sir, everyone was talking about it.’
‘Oh, she was brave, Red.’
‘Oh yes, she was very brave.’ Bess’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Feeling too embarrassed to stay, April ignored her and said, ‘Well, everyone, I need to get back. Red, hopefully we’ll see you soon. I’ll see you later, Mrs Teague. And you, too, no doubt, Bess.’
‘Yes, don’t you worry, April. You’ll see me very soon,’ Bess said nastily.
April hurried away, feeling furious that Bess once again had ruined a perfectly good day.
Suddenly a voice sounded behind her. ‘Isn’t one man enough for you?’
Some other shoppers, hearing the raised voice, stopped to look at them.
‘Oh, for goodness sake, Bess. You know very well that Red and Mrs Teague are good friends.’
‘Actually, Red told me a very different story about what happened at Mrs Teague’s. How you kept throwing yourself at him, and how embarrassed he was. Can’t say I’m surprised. You seem to throw yourself at pretty much anyone.’ Bess whirled around and stomped back to the bench, where she could see Mrs Teague and Red were deep in conversation, happily oblivious to the drama going on around them.
April marched back to the hospital and arrived, pink and breathless.
‘What chased you, April?’ asked Sister Turnbull. ‘Unlike you to come to work puffing and panting.’
‘Sorry, sister, met a friend and chatted.’
‘Well, gather yourself, I need you to look after a very sick young woman. She’s in the bed with the curtains drawn. Poor Mrs Dashell went into sudden labour after hearing that her husband had been killed. I’m afraid we lost the baby, and she’s not at all well after losing so much blood, and we just don’t have enough blood to give her a transfusion – not after the bombing. She needs a gentle hand, nurse, and I’ve seen how caring you are with some of our more traumatised patients.’
‘Of course, sister. I’ll be right there.’ With a sinking heart, April made her way to Mrs Dashell’s bed. The name was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. When she stepped through the curtains, the memory came back. She’d spoken to her in the queue for the butcher. April remembered how she’d stroked her stomach dreamily when she’d talked about her husband’s last leave.
She sat down beside her. ‘How are you feeling, Mrs Dashell?’ she asked gently.
Sister had followed her and whispered quietly in her ear. ‘I’m afraid she probably won’t answer. She hasn’t spoken since she was brought in last night.’
April looked at the once animated and happy face, now pale and stained with tears. She was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling with tears running intermittently down her cheeks. It was no wonder, thought April sadly.
‘Do you remember we met a few weeks ago? Queuing at the butcher. We talked about the G.I.s, remember? I think you know my landlady, Mrs Teague . . .’ April continued to talk as she gently sponged the young woman down.
‘Water.’ She scarcely heard the word, the voice was so low. April felt a bit of hope. If she started to speak, then maybe she would come back to them.
She held the cool glass to the woman’s lips. ‘There you are, lovely cold water. Doctor will be here directly and you’ll soon feel better.’
The woman’s lips began to move again, and April bent closer to hear. ‘I want to go, nurse. I can’t live without them. They’re waiting, see, my Pete and our baby. They need me with them.’ The last two words were breathed rather than spoken. The young woman’s eyes closed and a beatific smile softened the pained face and the low voice stilled.
April called to Sister Turnbull, who came hurrying over. She took one look at the woman in the bed and went to get the doctor, while April sat and held her hand.
‘Don’t leave us, Mrs Dashell. There can still be hope if you just hold on. There are others who love you too. Please don’t go.’
But she was unresponsive, and soon, the slow rise and fall of her chest ceased altogether. April had seen death before in many of its aspects – dying patients wracked with pain, exhausted patients whose thin lips still moved in prayer – but this one felt like none of the others. Three people gone just at the start of their lives together. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She couldn’t make sense of it. Just two days before, Mrs Dashell had been a hopeful mother looking forward
to the birth of her baby and the return of her husband. But they’d both been snatched from her. Little wonder she didn’t want to face life.
April bowed her head, wanting to say a prayer, but found she couldn’t find the words. She felt that she had failed her somehow, even though there was nothing she could have done.
Warm tears started to slide down her cheeks and she brushed them away. Were Mrs Dashell’s husband and baby really waiting for her? How she hoped it was true. She wanted to believe there was a greater force somewhere, but in the face of the constant tragedy besetting the world, she was finding it harder and harder to believe.
‘What in blazes are you doing, nurse?’ The voice was loud and very angry.
She could only tell the truth. ‘Praying, doctor.’
‘Get out of my sight.’ The doctor whisked the curtain around the bed, shutting out April, who was not quite sure what to do.
Sister Turnbull was there. ‘Come now, it’s always hard when you lose someone so young who should have recovered,’ she said gently. ‘Come along. I watched you care for your patient and you did nothing wrong. You are in no way to blame for her death. The doctor will agree but it doesn’t get any easier, you know. You care very much for your patients, nurse, and yes, you must have compassion but you have to make yourself strong enough to deal with all aspects of this work you’ve chosen or you’re in the wrong job.’
Dealing with death, April supposed sister meant. She thought of all the losses she’d endured: her father, the countless casualties she’d seen at St Thomas’, all the people killed in the air raid recently, her mother, who lost her family so tragically. Then she thought of Theo lying injured in a hospital in Egypt. Would he survive? Oh, God, it was unbearable when she thought too much about it.
‘Chin up, nurse.’ Sister interrupted her sad thoughts. ‘Take five minutes and stand outside looking at the moor. That should make you feel better – small but stronger.’
April removed her cap and apron, and walked as quickly as she could to the nearest door. Once outside she went down the main driveway and walked on to the grass verge. She raised her eyes and stood looking over the town, at the fields and moorland stretching out for miles. The almost ever-present wind blew a cocktail of scents to her: woodsmoke from a nearby farmhouse and the mixed scents of moorland plants and grasses. April smiled sadly. Sister had been right, gazing at the view did make her feel small, but also reassured her that there was still good in the world.
She stretched and sighed. ‘Go in peace, Mrs Dashell,’ she whispered into the wind. A gentle breeze touched her face, as if telling her that all would be well.
Chapter 19
April was tearstained and depressed when she got back home that evening.
‘Oh, my dear, I hope you’re not still upset about that Bess?’
‘No, of course not. I’ve decided that there’s nothing I can do about how she feels about me. It’s Mrs Dashell. I think you knew her. I met her once in the butcher. Do you remember her?’
‘Why, of course I do. Dear woman. She’s so excited about her baby. It must be due any day.’ She stopped as she saw the expression on April’s face. ‘Oh no. Please don’t tell me she’s passed.’
April burst into tears and between sobs told her the sad story. It wasn’t long before Mrs Teague was crying too. Eventually, when their tears had subsided, they sat together at the kitchen table holding hands.
April sighed. ‘I just want it to stop. I’m so tired of the tragedy and the bad news.’
‘I know, April. It seems like there’s no justice in the world at the moment. But come on, now. We should eat something, and then maybe you should try on your dress.’
‘Yes, all right. It might help me take my mind off everything. Did you speak to Red for long after we left?’
‘We had a lovely chat. The dear boy has told his mother all about me, and she’s writing to me, apparently. Isn’t that exciting? A letter from America. Who’d have thought? And he says they’re showing a cowboy film at the church hall soon and he’s offered to take me! Maybe I need a new frock too! Now get upstairs and show me what you’ll be wearing. We can’t sit grieving all night.’
April smiled tiredly. She was excited to try her dress, and especially to see Crawford, but right now, nothing seemed very important. But for Mrs Teague’s sake, she went and put the dress on.
‘Oh, my dear, you look so pretty. But your shoes! How can you wear those clompy great things with such a beautiful dress!’
April looked at her serviceable black lace-ups ruefully. ‘These are my best shoes!’
‘Wait there, dear, I have just the thing.’ She returned with a box from which she took a pair of gold lamé shoes. They were definitely not the latest fashion but they were beautiful, with a small heel and a gold strap that fastened around the ankle with a little button. Having been seldom worn they were in perfect condition.
‘My Isaac had these made for me in India. I was a bit of a flapper in my day. I think they’ll fit you perfectly.’
‘Thank you. I’ll take the best care of them, I promise. I’ve never worn such beautiful shoes.’
‘Now that’s settled, I think it’s time for bed. You need a good sleep so you’re fresh for your major tomorrow. What time do you start?
‘I’m on six till six tomorrow. Crawford’s coming to get me at seven thirty.’ Despite the emotion of the day, April felt herself getting excited all over again.
‘Get your head down, then, lovely. And I’ll see you in the morning bright and early.’
*
Her shift couldn’t go fast enough the following day. All she could think about was her evening with Crawford. But although she was excited, she was also worried. What if they couldn’t find anything to talk about? Or she bored him? They’d known each other for such a short time, what did she know about him really? Or he her?
She saw Eunice briefly when they passed in the corridor, but as they were on different shifts, they could share only a hurried word. Eunice looked preoccupied and tired.
‘Are you all right?’ April asked.
Eunice’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I can’t talk now, but are you on duty on Sunday?’
April shook her head.
‘Would you be able to come to church with me and Mum in St Agnes and have lunch with us? I’d so love to speak to you.’
‘Of course I can. Do you want to meet at the bus stop?’
‘No, let’s cycle. It’ll take about forty-five minutes, but it’s a beautiful ride. I’ll explain everything on the way.’
Finally, it was time for her to leave and she rushed home, arriving breathless and hot.
‘I’ve run you a bath, love. There was just enough water. Hop to it and get ready. Oh, I’m almost as excited as you are!’
April had a quick and glorious bath, leaving the water in so Mrs Teague could use it later. Then she attempted to put her hair up, but failed miserably – it was always so slippery – so decided to just clip it on one side with a little jewelled clip, leaving it to fall loose about her shoulders. She pinched her cheeks and used the tiny stub of lipstick that she had, and finally she put on the dress.
Just as she stepped into her gold shoes, there was a knock at the front door. April checked her watch. Right on time. She gave her hair a last brush, then made her way nervously downstairs.
Mrs Teague and Crawford were standing at the bottom, Mrs Teague looking as proud as if her daughter was coming down in her wedding dress.
‘Doesn’t she look lovely, major?’
Crawford was staring at her, an appreciative look on his face. ‘She sure does, Mrs Teague. Like I told her before: the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.’
April blushed, suddenly feeling shy. But when she saw him smile at her, his beautiful green eyes crinkling at the corners, his face suffused with warmth, she felt herself relax. It really did feel as if she’d always known him. Feeling bold, she went to him and kissed him on the cheek.
Crawford looked into h
er eyes. ‘You really do look beautiful, April. I’m the luckiest man in Cornwall tonight. Hell, scratch that. The luckiest man in the whole wide world.’
Mrs Teague beamed at them. ‘Go on, you two. Get out of my sight. And have a wonderful time.’
Laughing, Crawford caught April’s hand and pulled her towards the door. ‘We will, and I’ll bring her home safe and sound, I promise.’
Once in the jeep that Crawford had commandeered for the evening – a perk of the job, he called it – he said, ‘I thought we could have dinner at the officers’ mess at the base. What do you say?’
‘Where are you based again?’
‘We’re at Pencalenick House.’
‘Gosh. Is it very grand?’
‘I’m sure it was once. But not with all us soldiers tramping through it.’
When they reached the gates of the house, Crawford showed his pass to the guards, and they were let through. The house looked beautiful in the pink twilight, half covered with ivy, with an imposing Victorian portico. April looked at it, slightly intimidated by its size and grandeur.
Crawford took April’s elbow. ‘Come on, honey, don’t be alarmed. It’s just a house.’ He guided her through the entrance, where yet more soldiers saluted them. In the hall, April could see what Crawford had meant. Once, she was sure, it had been beautiful, with a black-and-white tiled floor and paintings on the wood-panelled walls, but now, there were bare patches where the paintings had hung, some of the floor tiles were cracked and the carpet on the grand staircase leading to the upper levels was threadbare and ragged. Several corridors ran off the hall, and she could see that every door along the hallway had a soldier stationed outside.
April stared wide-eyed. ‘Good heavens, Crawford, are the crown jewels being kept here, or something? Why all the guards?’
Crawford grinned. ‘That I can’t tell you. Let’s just say plans are afoot. Now come on, I’m starved and I want to show you off.’
The original dining room had been retained as the officer’s mess and looked better kept and smarter than the hall, but even so, evidence of the privations of war was everywhere, in the worn furniture and tatty carpet. Still, the tables gleamed and the atmosphere felt friendly. Several of the officers stood to shake Crawford’s hand, and much to her embarrassment, Crawford introduced her as the nurse who had saved the boy at the hospital. She kept shaking her head and saying she couldn’t have done it without Crawford, but the men ignored her, complimenting her on her bravery.
The G.I. Bride Page 16