East End Angel

by Rivers, Carol

  Cynthia stirred in her cot, which, now she was sixteen months old, was a small bed as the bars on either side had been removed. Cynthia rubbed her eyes and grinned, showing her two white front teeth. Pearl loved her baby smell, though it was gradually fading. As she sat her on the little wooden chair incorporating a potty, Cynthia chuckled. ‘Done wee-wee.’

  ‘Good girl.’

  Pearl was glad that Cynthia no longer needed nappies. The old towels cut into strips were becoming harder to find and took a long time to wash and dry. Now she needed only clean knickers.

  ‘Let’s wake Aunty Ruby.’

  Hand in hand they went along the hall, but when they went into Ruby’s room the camp bed was folded up. Pearl found a hastily scribbled note in the kitchen.

  ‘Gone to telephone.’

  Pearl sat Cynthia on the chair. ‘Draw me a picture and I’ll make porridge. We’ll listen to the wireless, see if there’s anything about where Daddy could be.’

  ‘Daddy!’ Cynthia shouted.

  ‘Yes, your handsome Daddy,’ Pearl smiled as she switched on the set. She had shown Cynthia Jim’s picture on the dresser every day, so when he came home he wouldn’t seem a stranger.

  As she made breakfast, Pearl tried not to think about Ruby and the telephone call. Instead she concentrated on the news. Though Jim hadn’t said where he was after El Alamein, he’d joked in a letter about throwing away his slippers. She took this to mean he’d left the desert and might be with the British Army in Italy. Perhaps he’d be able to give her a hint in his next letter. When would he be home?

  She longed to buy some clothes again. She had taken such a pride in her appearance once. Now she, too, had joined the ranks of utility wearers. Would Jim recognize her when he came home?

  Cynthia blew bubbles and Pearl laughed. ‘You’re a card, you are, just like your dad. Look at the mess you’re making!’

  ‘Daddy ’ome soon,’ gurgled Cynthia. She’d heard Pearl say this so often, she knew it by heart.

  Just then the door burst open. Ruby came rushing in. She was wearing a jumper and slacks and breathlessly slid off her bicycle clip. ‘I didn’t sleep a wink and was up early.’

  ‘Sit down, porridge is ready.’

  ‘I can’t eat. Me stomach’s in a knot. Hello, Cynth, love.’

  ‘Did you speak to the matron?’ asked Pearl.

  ‘Yes, she told me the hospital was once a country house owned by a very rich family.’

  ‘Don’t they live there now?’

  ‘No, they’ve gone away.’

  ‘Did you find out any more about Ricky?’

  ‘Yes, his ship was torpedoed as it followed the German battleship Tirpitz.’ Ruby pulled out a chair and sank down. ‘Don’t know much about it meself. But there was a fire on board and all the crew had to jump in the freezing water. It was somewhere near Norway and the sea is freezing. Ricky got dragged in a lifeboat, but he was burned by the burning oil that floated on the surface.’

  ‘Was it just his hands?’

  ‘No, his chest and shoulder is burned but she said he’s in good spirits and is being treated by the doctors.’

  ‘How long will he have to stay there?’

  ‘I didn’t ask.’

  ‘Will he go back in the navy?’

  ‘I don’t know that either. She said I could visit and I’ll find out everything then. The train stops at Brawton station and there’s a bus I can catch to the Manor. She offered to make arrangements for me to stay overnight at the local pub.’

  ‘Surrey is a long way to go.’

  ‘I told her I’d have to ask me boss for a Saturday morning off.’

  Pearl knew that Ruby was very upset and trying not to show it. ‘This place might be a manor but it’s still a hospital, after all. It won’t be just coughs and sneezes,’ she warned.

  ‘I know that. I’ve done first aid, haven’t I?’

  ‘Yes, but you’re not very good when it comes to the sight of blood,’ Pearl pointed out.

  Ruby smiled. ‘If I faint they can put me in a bed next to Ricky.’

  ‘Come on, eat your breakfast.’ Pearl knew that Ruby was putting on a brave face but what was the real extent of Ricky’s injuries?

  Jim lay on his chest, his rifle beside him, as he peered through the green Italian grass at the foot of the hill. He was trying to take a breath but the air was full of dust. Not the desert dust that was dry and hot. But the dust that had rolled down the lush green hill, was full of the bitter taste of exploding shell.

  His unit had been surveying a possible route up to the summit of the hill. A few hours ago a Benedictine monastery had been perched there. Now it was in ruins. For the past few days the noise of the assault had been deafening. Massed formations of American bombers had dropped bomb after bomb on the historic building. The Allied command had told them the monastery was occupied by the enemy. But Jim had his doubts. Even Jerry wouldn’t desecrate a place so venerated, would they? And there had been little or no return gunfire during the onslaught. The sky was a pall of smoke billowing over the once beautiful Italian landscape.

  ‘It can’t be right to do what we did to such a holy place!’ exclaimed Reg, the young soldier beside him. Jim hadn’t known him long, only since he’d been drafted out of Africa in the advance to the Italian capital. Like Jim, Reg had been at El Alamein. Instead of the leave they’d hoped to get they found themselves in the thick of it again. Now Monte Cassino seemed as much of a killing field as the desert, and Jim was sick of it. He agreed with Reg. It was a crime to have razed the old monastery to the ground.

  ‘You reckon Jerry was in situ before we came?’ asked Reg as he huddled close to Jim.

  Jim merely shrugged. To demolish such a landmark was like wiping St Paul’s off the map. And surely it was clear to the top brass that now there were ruins up there, the enemy had a better chance of holding the hill. Any attempt to drive through to Cassino would take longer.

  A volley of gunfire shook the ground. Jim ducked, burying his face in the brittle woodland floor. Strafing whistled past his boots sending a spray of earth in the air. He dared to glance skyward. A plummeting silver bird, entrapped in a plume of smoke, was falling, falling. The whine of the plane’s descent was heart-rending. The fuselage now a mass of flames, it was impossible to tell if it was enemy or Allied. But the pilot had bailed out. His parachute floated down like a dandelion. Did death or life await him?

  ‘Was he one of ours?’ Reg asked.

  ‘Couldn’t tell.’

  ‘Poor bastard.’ Reg wiped the dirt, sweat and filth from his thin face. ‘Don’t suppose anyone stopped to consider if there was monks and nuns inside that place.’

  ‘Nuns don’t live in monasteries,’ Jim smiled grimly.

  ‘No, but women and kids could’ve been sheltering there. That’s the place they’d go to, ain’t it, thinking it would be safe? What heartless sod would give the order to shell it?’

  ‘Some sod that ain’t so holy, I expect.’

  ‘It’s been standing for hundreds of years. Until us and the Yanks come along.’

  Jim felt sick at the thought of such a massacre. He had a wife and daughter at home. But if Jerry had landed in ’thirty-nine, his family might have died too.

  ‘I reckon they got out before,’ he decided.

  ‘You gotta give the Yanks their due,’ nodded Reg, adjusting his lying position as he scrambled closer. ‘After Pearl Harbor, nothing was gonna stop them. Not even the bleedin’ Pope.’

  A barrage of artillery fire halted their conversation. Both men lay flat to the earth, as the woodland erupted. Jim hung on to his rifle, not moving an inch. This was going to be a hard push, but Reg was right. As bad for the Yanks as the bombing of Pearl Harbor was, it was a stroke of luck for the Allies.

  For a few minutes the strafing came close again. Jim thought of his wife and his little daughter, Cynthia. Though he had never seen her or held her, she wasn’t ever out of his mind. And if by chance he did survive this godforsaken war
it would be the hope of going home again that saved him.

  A gust of wind from the rubble swept into his throat. The cloud was filled with the scent of death. He coughed until his lungs hurt. Drawing up his legs, he dragged himself on his elbows to a bank of mossy stone and bushes. Daring a glance above, all he could see was a few feet in front.

  ‘Looks like we’re stuck here,’ he growled, narrowing his eyes at the thick curtain of dust. ‘Going nowhere fast and sitting ducks for snipers.’

  ‘You don’t need to tell me that, mate. I’ve taken one this time,’ Reg answered.

  Jim turned to look at his friend. He hadn’t bargained for the twist of his stomach as he saw the bloody chest wound.

  Discarding his weapon, he took Reg in his arms. He could hardly bring himself to speak.

  Reg arched and clutched him. ‘Gotta fag, mate?’

  Somehow he managed to light the dog end. Reg took a gulp, quivered and spat blood.

  ‘Hang in there, chum. I’ll run for help.’

  ‘Bit bleedin’ late for that.’

  Jim held him tight as he groaned, but then his eyes became clear. They stared past him into the far-off distance. ‘You’ve been a good mate, Jim. You’ll have to look out for yourself, now. Keep that big ginger head of yours down.’

  ‘You ain’t going nowhere,’ Jim answered roughly. ‘Now let me take a look at this—’

  Reg caught his wrist. ‘You know, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like, but it ain’t so bad after all . . .’

  At these words, Jim felt a strange peace come over them. A sudden relief from the pain and fear as he slid the butt from his friend’s lips and closed his sightless eyes. He wanted to stay in that place where Reg had walked ahead bravely, but he knew it was not his time. He was envious even, unwilling to be drawn back. And for that brief moment, he would have been willing to follow if offered the way. But as the body grew heavy – a weightless heaviness, almost – he came back with a bump to reality.

  Ruby followed the matron along the corridor, her eyes going to each room as she searched for Ricky. It was a Saturday afternoon and the patients were in their beds or sitting in chairs beside them. All the first aid she had learned couldn’t have prepared her for today. The hospital was full of the blind, deformed and limbless. Matron had told her to be prepared, but it was still a shock. She had also made it clear that Ricky was one of the lucky ones. The burns were across his shoulders and chest and could be hidden by his clothes. He’d lost two fingers, one from each hand, but it wasn’t the burning oil that had taken them. It had been the freezing cold of exposure to the elements.

  As they walked on, the smell of disinfectant grew stronger. Ruby had had to wait a whole month to come here as Mr Brewer hadn’t been able to let her go immediately. Though the Manor was imposing from the outside, with gardens all round and pillars in front, inside it was just the same as any hospital. The nurses all wore starched uniforms and the doctors stood discussing their patients at the ends of the beds. As it was the rest period, it was very quiet.

  Finally the matron opened the door of a room and looked in. Ruby could see it was a small ward with only two beds. ‘Ah, he’s not here. I’ll wait with you until he comes.’

  Ruby’s gaze went to the long window at the end of the room. The light reflected down onto a curtain pulled round the bed. Ruby could see a wooden frame sticking out at the bottom.

  ‘Ah, here he is,’ said the Matron, turning Ruby away.

  Ricky strode down the passage towards them. Ruby’s heart lifted, only to drop again when she saw his bandaged hands.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, smiling as he came closer.

  The matron touched her arm. ‘As soon as you’re ready we’ll serve you tea in the conservatory.’

  ‘Thank you, Matron,’ said Ricky and they watched her walk away.

  ‘Oh, darling, how are you?’ Ruby wanted to kiss him but knew she couldn’t. The red marks of the burns showed under his collar and he held his bandaged hands at his side.

  ‘Much better. And you?’

  ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘And I you. I’m afraid I can’t use these yet.’ He lifted his arms.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Are they painful?’

  ‘Not now.’

  ‘Oh, Ricky,’ was all she could say.

  ‘How was your journey?’ he asked politely.

  ‘I took the train up and the bus brought me the rest of the way. Matron said someone called Arthur would have driven me, but this weekend he’s away.’

  ‘Yes, he’s a nice old chap. Does a bit of running about for the hospital.’

  ‘This is a very nice place. Well, outside it is.’

  He smiled. ‘Yes, it does have that effect on first-time visitors.’

  Ruby felt very awkward. They were talking like strangers.

  ‘Shall we go along to the conservatory?’ he asked. ‘It’s much nicer in there. And my room is very small. Besides,’ he nodded, ‘Dick is not well.’

  As they were leaving a young woman passed. She kept her head down as she walked to the bed with the frame.

  ‘Fighter pilot. He’s in trouble, I’m sad to say,’ Ricky said softly as they walked along the corridor.

  ‘You mean, he’s—’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘How awful.’

  ‘Next on your right, through that door,’ Ricky said in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Should be warm enough in there as the sun’s been out all day.’

  They walked into a large room over which there was a glass roof and below, wide open windows. The many kinds of potted plants, ferns and palms gave it an outside feel. Although it was warm Ruby was glad she had worn her new coat. Would Ricky notice it? She’d chosen the soft shade of green to go with her hat, gloves and black court shoes. Her black shoulder bag contained her train tickets, purse and make-up. Although Ricky didn’t smoke she had brought cigarettes in case.

  He led the way to two leather chairs with big cushions. They overlooked the view of the well-tended garden and stone-paved patio. In the centre of the patio was a waterless fountain decorated with cherubs. A wide set of steps led down to the lawns and in the distance was an imposing green hedge. Ruby wondered about the family that was wealthy enough to own a place like this and then had to leave it.

  Soon more patients came in with their relatives and friends. The invalids shuffled on crutches and sticks, and some were pushed in wheelchairs. She hoped Ricky would tell her what happened on board ship so she could understand what he’d been through.

  A young orderly brought the tea. Ricky sat down beside her. ‘Apologies again.’ He lifted his bandaged hands. ‘Will you pour?’

  Ruby was happy to be able to do something, however small.

  ‘When you wrote to me about Roper’s Way,’ Ricky said as she stirred the pot, ‘I was very surprised. Do you think it can be repaired?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ she shrugged, wishing he would say how nice she looked. ‘When we went to have a look it was just a shell.’

  ‘Are your family happy in Abingley?’

  ‘Yes, they’ve got a lovely flat, quite large, with a garden. Dad’s at the aerodrome and grows veg on a small allotment. You know how mad he is about planting stuff.’

  ‘Good for him.’

  ‘There’s a market and shops and lots of fields and green spaces,’ she found herself saying. ‘It’s not at all like the Smoke. But they seem very happy all the same.’

  ‘And what are you up to these days?’

  ‘I’m still at the factory,’ she said, wishing they could talk about something more intimate. She’d told him all this in her letters. Why did he make her feel like a stranger? His thoughts seemed very far away. ‘Ricky, I don’t want to spend all our time talking about me. What happened to you? How did you get your injuries?’

  ‘Perhaps we could discuss them some other time.’

  ‘Don’t you want to tell me?’

  ‘There’s enough sickness here. It’s good to hear a
bout the outside.’

  Ruby nodded, but she didn’t have much more to tell him. ‘Would you like a cigarette?’ she asked, opening her bag.

  ‘Not with these, I’m afraid.’ He lifted his bandaged hands.

  ‘I could light one for you, if you like?’

  ‘I’ve never been much of a smoker.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘Ricky, I’ve missed you so much,’ she burst out suddenly. ‘Have you missed me?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ He shifted and frowned. Was it pain on his face, she wondered. Why didn’t he seem to be interested in anything?

  ‘And how’s Pearl?’ he asked in the same polite tone.

  ‘She’s fine. Cynthia is full of beans.’

  ‘The baby, you mean?’

  ‘She’s not such a baby any more. Jim will have a surprise when he comes home.’

  ‘Ah, Jim. Where is he? Still in the desert?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ Ruby shrugged.

  ‘We were told Alamein was a brilliant show. Pearl must be very proud.’

  Ruby frowned. ‘Yes, she is.’ She wondered what his thoughts were about Jim. Would the two men be friends when they met again?

  ‘You know, I used to think you two girls were a cut above the others at the club,’ he said with a sudden smile. ‘Very single-minded and bright.’

  Ruby blushed. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere, though I didn’t think you noticed me.’

  ‘Oh, yes, the Jenkins sisters.’

  Ruby smiled. ‘I think Pearl had a crush on you,’ she teased. ‘Not that she said anything. But a sister can tell.’

  Ricky stared at her. ‘Now it’s my turn to be flattered.’

  She was disappointed as she’d only said that hoping he would say that he would have preferred her to have a crush on him.

  ‘Well, we both did, actually,’ she added lamely.

  He nodded to his cup. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to ask for help.’

  Ruby lifted the cup to his mouth. It was such a wonderful mouth, set in a face that looked more handsome than ever. His black hair was turning grey at the temples and slender white creases sprang out from his eyes. She wished he would tell her how lovely she looked.