by Cathy Sharp
‘Mum, please don’t,’ Sally said. ‘I haven’t even told Andrew about taking up the course yet – and it doesn’t mean I don’t love him, because I do. Sometimes I think I shall be miserable if he won’t wait for me … but I know I have to do this for me. Once I have my training I shall be better able to understand the kind of world he comes from …’
‘I don’t see that at all,’ her mother said. ‘You’ll be older and wiser perhaps – but the divide will always be there. It’s been a lovely experience for you, Sally, but best if it finishes now.’
‘No, Mum!’ Sally jumped to her feet. ‘I won’t listen to this. I’m just slowing things down because I’m not ready – but I may still marry him one day, if he’ll wait.’
‘Where are you going? You can’t leave good food.’
‘Sorry, I couldn’t force another mouthful down …’
‘Not good enough for you now, I suppose. You want the fancy food they do at the Dorchester.’
‘That’s not fair, Mum. I’m going to the church hall to help Angela with rehearsals for the concert she’s putting on at the end of the month. Brenda says she’ll come down when she gets home after work. Tell her I’ve already gone.’
‘Sally, eat your supper. Oh, I don’t know. Since you started mixing with that Angela and Mr Markham you haven’t been the same. Don’t get ideas above your head, lass.’
‘I’ll eat the Spam fritters later with some bubble and squeak,’ Sally said. ‘Sorry, Mum, I can’t stop.’
Sally almost ran out of the house, because she couldn’t bear to listen to her mother going on about Andrew any more. She’d hoped Mum would leave her alone now she was going to do her training but it seemed she couldn’t stop herself. Sally really wanted to be a nurse, but that didn’t mean she no longer cared for Andrew because she did. If she were to lose him … but surely she wouldn’t. He was patient and understanding and he would wait for her, she knew he would. As soon as he got in touch, she would speak to him, tell him how she felt – and then perhaps she wouldn’t feel so guilty. It almost seemed disloyal to have come to her decision while he was away, but it had been far longer than the week he’d promised and the doubts had crowded in on her. It was very strange that Andrew hadn’t contacted her when he returned from his course and it seemed ages since she’d seen him, though it was only three weeks or so.
She jumped on the tram and paid her sixpence fare. Sally was looking forward to helping with the concert, and she hoped Brenda would too. Sitting at home listening to the wireless and watching Mum knit wasn’t much fun for either of them, and Brenda’s fiancé was on nights at the moment …
‘I reckon that Angela is all right,’ Brenda said as the sisters walked home together after the rehearsal. ‘The way Mum goes on about her you would think she was Lady Muck, but she isn’t like that at all. She’s fun and she makes me laugh.’
‘Why do you think I like her? It isn’t for the presents and the clothes she’s given me. Angela has been my friend ever since she arrived at St Saviour’s and I really care about her – she’s almost like my own sister.’
‘You don’t like her better than me?’ Brenda sounded a bit jealous.
‘Of course I don’t, love. We’ll always be mates. I wish Mum understood me half as well as you do, Bren.’
‘I’m lookin’ forward to me weddin’,’ Brenda said, and squeezed her arm. ‘That lace you got me is the best I’ve ever seen.’
‘That was Sister Beatrice; her mother used to make lace and she’d got some in her drawer. Honest, Bren, you’d think she was an old dragon sometimes to hear some of the girls go on behind her back, but she has to be strict – yet I’ve always liked her and I’m going back there to work when I’ve trained.’
‘You’ll always have a job, like me,’ Brenda said. ‘Poor Mum couldn’t do anything but scrub toilets when Dad was out of work and he wouldn’t let her do that. We’ll never be as hard up as they were when Dad was out of a job.’
‘We’re lucky, though, as a family,’ Sally said. ‘It didn’t break us up, did it?’
‘Nah, nothing could do that.’ Brenda stopped and looked at their house. ‘That’s funny, all the lights are on … and there’s a car outside the door.’ She looked at Sally in sudden fright. ‘Do you think one of ’em’s ill?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sally said, and started to run, Brenda pounding after her. She pushed open the door and rushed into the kitchen, her heart in her mouth. Both her parents were sitting there, looking serious. ‘What’s wrong? Mum … Dad … what’s the matter …?’ The breath died in her throat as she suddenly saw Mr Adderbury sitting with a cup of strong tea in his hand. ‘Mr Adderbury … what …?’
‘I’m sorry, Sally,’ he said, put his cup down, stood up and came towards her, his expression grave. ‘When I heard I drove straight here, because you’re needed at the hospital immediately. I was coming to the church hall but your mother thought you would be back soon and so I waited …’
‘What is it?’ she asked, and yet the sick feeling inside told her that it could only be one thing. ‘It’s Andrew, isn’t it?’ she asked dully. ‘Something’s happened?’
‘Yes, it’s Andrew, he isn’t dead, but he is critically ill,’ Mark Adderbury replied. ‘It was an accident to his car – a head-on collision with a drunk driver. I have to tell you, Sally – he may not survive the night …’
‘No …’ Sally moaned. ‘Please no …’
‘Sally, I’m so sorry,’ her mother said, but she wasn’t listening, because if she did she might say something she would regret.
‘Please, will you take me there?’
‘Me too,’ Brenda said. ‘I’m coming with you, Sally. You can’t go through this alone. I’m not leaving you until … we know, that’s all.’
‘Yes, go with her,’ Mum said. ‘Sally, I wish …’
Sally turned away and followed Mark out. She could feel Brenda’s arm about her waist and moved closer, seeking comfort from the sister who loved her, because without it she might not have made it to the car. All Sally could think about was that Andrew was lying in hospital, perhaps dying, and she – she had been on the verge of telling him that she couldn’t marry him because her training was more important to her.
‘Oh, Andrew,’ she wept inside. ‘Andrew, please forgive me … and live for me, because I do love you. I love you so very much …’
His bed was the same as all the others in the ward, iron rails at each end, narrow and covered in a white cotton cover, though he was right at the end by the window and the curtains were pulled about it. He lay with his head on one single pillow, the case starched and stiff, just like the sheet folded neatly down at the top. The smell of disinfectant barely covered an underlying stench of sickness, and the coughs, moans and snoring from the other patients made Sally sharply aware of what her world would be like quite soon.
Andrew’s head was bound by thick bandages that obscured most of one side of his face. His injuries were clearly severe, more so than Sally had realised even when Mark told her he was gravely ill. He didn’t move so much as an eyebrow when she bent over to gently kiss the only piece of his face she could see.
‘I love you,’ she whispered, a sob in her throat. ‘I love you so much … forgive me. I’m sorry …’
Sally wasn’t sure why she was apologising; she only knew she felt guilty. Perhaps it was because she’d been planning her future without consulting him. Mum obviously thought her decision would end their relationship, but Sally couldn’t believe that. Andrew loved her and she loved him; he would surely understand that she needed a little time to learn and grow, so that she could be a better wife for him … and yet she could hear him in her head, begging her never to change but stay just as she was.
‘It’s you and your funny little ways that I love, Sally,’ he’d told her more than once. ‘I don’t care about class, but if I did I still would want you, because you’re lovely through and through.’
‘Oh, Andrew, my darling,’ Sally whisper
ed, tears slowly trickling down her cheeks. ‘Please don’t leave me. Come back to me. I want us to be together always.’
She wanted to do her training and become a nurse, yes, she did, but she also wanted to be Andrew’s wife one day … but she’d hoped to be good enough for him so that when he met some of his posh friends he wouldn’t need to be ashamed of her. No, Andrew would never have felt that way. It was Mum who had drawn the lines between the classes; she was the snob, not Andrew.
Sally wasn’t sure how long they allowed her to stand by his side before she was told that the nurse needed to make him comfortable and asked her to wait in the visitors’ room. In some ways it was like a few seconds and in others an eternity. She felt so alone, because Andrew was there and yet he wasn’t … because the still form with all those wires attached wasn’t the warm, loving man she knew. She wanted him to be there. She wanted so desperately to see him smile and hear his voice speaking her name, to tell him she loved him more than anything in the whole world.
‘Please, Miss Rush, we need to look after him. Go and sit with your sister and the doctor will come and see you shortly.’
Sally walked numbly from the ward. Brenda was sitting in the small room set aside for patients’ families and she got up and came to her, reaching out to draw Sally into her arms. She let Brenda hold her, but couldn’t respond. It was as if all feeling had left her and she was aware only of emptiness, of an ache inside her that she was afraid might never go away.
‘You ought to go home,’ Sally said when she could focus her mind. ‘It’s morning …’
‘I told you I wouldn’t leave you and I shan’t …’
‘He’s leaving me, Bren,’ Sally said, and looked at her sister in dread. The coldness had been creeping down her spine since she left the ward and somehow she knew … she knew even before the doctor in the long white coat came to speak to them. Afterwards, Brenda told her that he was good-looking and that his name was Dr Harrison, but all Sally would ever remember was the sadness in his blue eyes as he met her tearful gaze.
‘I am so very sorry, Miss Rush,’ he said. ‘Andrew left us a few minutes ago. It was a severe haemorrhage brought on by the head wound. We did all we could to save him – but it wasn’t enough. Mr Markham was a respected colleague and he will be much missed …’
Sally let out a moan of despair and then, for the first time in her life, she fainted. Brenda told her later that Dr Harrison moved like lightning to catch her and prevent her fall.
‘He was great, Sally,’ Brenda said enthusiastically. ‘He carried you into a little rest room and placed you on the bed, and then he told me to sit with you and went off to call a nurse to look at you. It was only a few minutes before you came round, and then they gave us tea, and I called a taxi to take us home.’
But it was many days before Brenda said anything about the kind doctor or what had happened at the hospital, because when they left there together, Sally didn’t know what was going on. She was in a daze, her mind so confused that she could hardly put one foot in front of the other. Without Brenda’s arm to support her, she couldn’t have moved. The grief and despair that had descended on Sally was like an enveloping fog that she couldn’t penetrate. People spoke to her and sometimes she answered, but she didn’t know what they said or how she responded.
Somehow Brenda had got her home and up to bed. She’d kept their mother at bay, though in the recesses of her mind Sally heard her mother crying and apologising, saying how sorry she was over and over again. Sally didn’t even try to answer her. A barrier had arisen between them; it was all a part of the guilt and the grief and the simmering anger deep down inside her. Sally was at times aware of resentment, as if she wanted to blame her mother for having driven a wall between Andrew and her family, as if she’d been forced to choose, which of course she hadn’t. She’d only meant to postpone things, but now somehow that had changed in her mind and there was a mountain of pain and guilt and grief and she couldn’t see a way through it.
Perhaps the only way was to just lie down and die … to let go of all the hurt and the regret and the longing for things to be as they were and just let the clouds take her … drift away into the blue beyond and never return.
FIFTY
‘That’s terrible,’ Angela said when Brenda came to see her in her office in the middle of the next day. ‘I’m still trying to recover from the shock of hearing that Mr Markham had been killed in a car crash. It’s such a waste of life. Sally must be devastated … I completely understand why she can’t come into work. She shouldn’t even think of it for a while. Sister will understand when I tell her.’
Angela felt a wave of grief sweep through her, because no one understood what Sally was going through better than she did. At least she’d had a short period of marriage. Sally had only known Andrew a few months, but he’d adored her and she’d loved him. It had been obvious that they were made for each other and would marry one day, even if Sally wanted to wait a couple of years. Once she’d passed most of her exams she could have spent more time with the man she loved. Angela was quite sure it would have worked out well.
‘She won’t even look at Mum,’ Brenda said worriedly. ‘Mum says she blames her for saying the things she did … about it being better if they broke up now, because it would never work between them.’
‘Why did your mother think it wouldn’t work?’ Angela was bewildered. ‘I know he was a few years older, but I don’t think age is a barrier if you are truly in love – and they were … still are, as far is Sally is concerned.’
‘Mum thought he was too far above us.’ Brenda twisted a strand of fine hair nervously. ‘She was afraid he would take Sally away from the family, that she would be ashamed of us.’
‘That is ridiculous,’ Angela said. ‘Mr Markham was one of the least proud or class-conscious people I know. He only cared about helping people and he certainly didn’t mind if they were a king or a caretaker.’
‘Mum’s like that.’ Brenda sighed. ‘Now she’s feeling guilty and she wants to heal the breach between them but Sally just turns her head aside and refuses to look at her.’
‘I expect she’s just too unhappy to think of her mother for now,’ Angela said. ‘When it happened to me I almost hated my mother … she didn’t understand but she kept saying things that made me angry. Well-meaning, kind but so wrong. Even Daddy did everything wrong, though he wanted to help. The only person I could speak to was Mark Adderbury …’
‘Mr Adderbury?’ Angela nodded. ‘He came to fetch Sally and took us to the hospital. He gave me a number we could ring if there was anything more he could do, but … I don’t think Sally would listen to him. She might listen to you, because she thinks the world of you.’
‘I’m very fond of Sally and I shall certainly come to see her. I’ll find out all I can – about the arrangements …’
‘You mean the funeral? Will his family be there?’ Brenda looked awkward. ‘I mean, they weren’t officially engaged. I know he’d spoken about marriage. Sally said he’d told her he wanted to live outside London and commute … that’s one of the reasons she was worried about her training. I think she has to live in. They wouldn’t bother taking her if she was married so she wanted to wait. Now she’s regretting it …’
‘I’ll ask Mark about Andrew’s family. I’m sure he’ll know.’ Angela sent Brenda a sympathetic look. ‘I shall come to visit this evening … but you mustn’t expect too much too soon. Sally will grieve for a long time.’
‘I feel really bad, especially as I’m planning my wedding for May. I don’t want to put it off, but I don’t want to hurt Sally either.’
‘Yes, I can see that is awkward for you,’ Angela said. ‘I’m sure Sally will understand, Brenda. You just have to be patient with her.’
Angela was thoughtful after her visitor had left. The news of the popular doctor’s death had stunned all the staff when Sister Beatrice told them, and Jean had told her that the children were still crying. Many of the little ones ha
d looked up to him as being between a father figure and Santa Claus, and they seemed to understand that he was sweet on their own Sally. He’d brought them copies of his wonderful books and puzzles, which he’d written and designed himself, and he’d read to them, teasing them and bringing joy to children who often had so little in their lives.
‘It isn’t fair!’ Angela said aloud. ‘He was such a kind, generous man.’
The door opened after a brief knock and Nan walked in. She looked serious and Angela knew she’d come for a chat, because she’d brought a tray of coffee with two cups and some of her own jam tarts.
‘What can we do to help her?’ Nan asked, setting the tray down. ‘I know she was planning to leave as soon as they had a place at the nursing college, but Sally is one of ours. I thought we might send flowers from all the staff – but is there anything more practical we can do for her?’
‘Her sister has just left me,’ Angela said. ‘I’m going to ask Mark to find out the details of the funeral. He knew him better than we did … I think Brenda was concerned his family might look down their noses at her.’
‘Well, she won’t have to face them alone, because I shall be with her,’ Nan said. ‘I think Sister Beatrice intends to go as well, and I imagine you will?’
‘Yes, I shall,’ Angela agreed. ‘I’ll go for Sally’s sake. I didn’t know Mr Markham well, but I respected him. I think all the children will miss him and his stories about the big hairy spider.’
‘The children loved his stories. I’m not sure what the idea was behind them, but the little ones just adored listening to him read – and all of them like the puzzles.’ Nan shook her head. ‘Why is it always the good ones that die young? Can you make sense of this world of ours, Angela? Sometimes I think God is laughing at us from up there, showing us that we are no more than pawns on the chessboard of life.’