Jenny's War

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by Dickinson, Margaret

Cassandra stepped towards her. ‘He’s worse today.’

  Charlotte gasped and her hand fluttered to her mouth. Jenny bit her lip and Miles moved agitatedly as if he didn’t want to hang about chatting in the car park. He wanted to go in to see his son. But Cassandra’s anger held them all there.

  ‘They say it’s normal after the anaesthetic wears off. But he has a fever they’re worried about.’ But Cassandra didn’t seem worried at all and her next words shocked them. ‘But I’m done here.’ Still, she was facing Jenny. ‘He’s all yours and you’re welcome to him. I won’t be coming back.’

  ‘Why? What’s happened, Cassandra?’ Charlotte persisted. She was sure there was something that the girl wasn’t telling them. ‘Please tell us.’

  Cassandra was still glaring at Jenny. ‘I was sitting by his bedside, holding his hand.’ Her mouth curled. ‘Trying my best to play the “good little nurse” bit, all tea and sympathy.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, like I told you, he’s got a fever and he’s out of it a lot of the time, doesn’t know what he’s saying, but I suppose – like when someone’s drunk – you get the truth then.’

  ‘Cassandra, I really don’t understand what you’re talking about,’ Charlotte said, trying hard to hold on to her patience when she felt like shaking the girl.

  ‘He was delirious, I know that, but he was shouting out a name, calling for – for someone.’

  ‘Who? Whose name was he calling?’

  Now Cassandra’s face twisted into ugly malice. ‘Hers! “Jenny,” he kept muttering. And not just once. Over and over again, until I couldn’t stand it any longer. It’s her he wants.’

  No one spoke, no one even attempted to contradict her because no one there wanted to. They all wanted what she was saying to be the truth.

  ‘So, I’m off. Goodbye and I can’t say it’s been nice knowing you.’

  With that, Cassandra turned away and walked towards her car without a backward glance.

  ‘She must have got it wrong.’ Still Jenny didn’t dare to believe it.

  Charlotte put her arm around the girl’s shoulders. ‘Come, let’s go and see how he is.’

  To those who loved him so, today Georgie looked terrible. His face was red and sweating and he was thrashing about the bed so much that the young nurse who’d been put in charge of him on one-to-one nursing was almost in tears from trying to keep him calm.

  ‘He’s so strong,’ she said helplessly to Miles. ‘Please, can you talk to him, it might calm him.’

  Miles tried, Charlotte tried and even Louisa, but it was only when Jenny took his hand, squeezed it and said firmly, ‘Now, Georgie, no more of this. You must lie still’, that he ceased his restlessness and lay still. She took a damp flannel and wiped his forehead. ‘That’s better. Now try to sleep, get some rest and – ’ Jenny smiled and leaned closer to whisper – ‘and “Hang spring-cleaning!” ’

  ‘Oh miss, are you a nurse, ’cos if you aren’t, you ought to be!’

  ‘Now, will you just look at that,’ Miles said in wonderment. Then he turned to Charlotte. ‘But what’s she talking about spring-cleaning for?’

  Charlotte chuckled, relieved to see that in the space of only minutes, Georgie already looked more peaceful.

  ‘It’s the beginning of The Wind in the Willows.’

  ‘Ah, yes, of course, I see now.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Louisa said.

  ‘When she first came to us as a little evacuee, Georgie used to read it to her.’

  At that moment, the sister came in. ‘Whatever are you all doing in here? Nurse Benson, you should know better. This patient is only allowed one visitor at a time today seeing as he’s—’ She stopped suddenly and stared at Georgie, who was now lying quietly, his eyes closed, his breathing more regular, even though still a little fast.

  ‘Sorry, Sister, but I couldn’t manage him. I was so frightened he was going to harm himself and then his family came in and tried to calm him, but it wasn’t until his sister here took hold of his hand and spoke to him that he responded.’

  ‘I’m not his sister. I’m Jenny.’

  Both the sister and the nurse stared at her. ‘You’re Jenny!’ they both exclaimed together then glanced at each other, perplexed.

  ‘Then who was the other one? We thought she was his girlfriend.’

  ‘She was,’ Charlotte said quietly.

  ‘Oh heck, Sister,’ the little nurse said, ‘I called her Jenny because that’s who he’s been asking for.’

  Sister nodded. ‘I know. I called her that too.’

  Charlotte couldn’t hide her laughter any longer. ‘No wonder she was angry. Oh dear. Oh Miles . . .’ She clung to his arm, overcome by a fit of the giggles.

  ‘Please excuse my wife,’ Miles said, but he, too, was grinning. ‘You see that was Cassandra and, yes, she was his girlfriend, but no longer, I think, and we’re all – er – shall I say, rather relieved.’

  ‘Ah,’ Sister said, understanding at once. Then she turned back to Jenny. ‘Well, my dear, it is a little unusual for us to allow someone who isn’t a close relative to stay with a patient who is – I have to tell you – at the moment very ill – ’ At her words both Charlotte and Miles sobered immediately. ‘But since it seems that you are the only one who can keep him calm, we will allow you to stay. That is, if his family don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course not. We want whatever is best for Georgie.’ Miles smiled at Jenny. ‘And though she’s not related to us, she is very much part of our family.’

  Sister smiled. ‘It sounds to me as if she very soon will be. Now, shoo, the rest of you. You can come back this evening and if he’s a little better, I’ll let you have ten minutes with him. Nurse, will you fetch Jenny a cup of tea and when you’ve done that you can take a break yourself.’ Her smile widened. ‘I can see he’s in safe hands.’

  Georgie slept through the evening and all through the night, only waking early in the morning when the sister began to change his dressing.

  Jenny had sat by his bedside all that time, refusing to leave him except to answer the call of nature and to have a bite to eat at the sister’s insistence.

  At last Georgie opened his eyes and blinked at her. ‘What are you doing here, Jen?’

  ‘This young lady has been here all night, holding your hand and willing you to get better.’ The sister looked up and smiled. ‘And I think it’s worked. We’ll take your temperature in a moment, but I can see just by looking at you that it’s down.’ She turned to Jenny. ‘Now, my dear, if you’d leave us for a little while, you can come back for a few moments and then I really think you should go back to the hotel and get some rest yourself. Mr Thornton has already been ringing up to see how things are and I asked him to come and fetch you in about half an hour.’

  When Jenny opened her mouth to argue, Georgie laughed. ‘Don’t argue with Sister, Jen. She can be a dragon when she’s roused.’

  Twenty minutes later, Jenny was allowed back in to say “goodbye” for the moment.

  ‘Where’s Cassandra?’ Georgie asked her.

  ‘Georgie, I’m sorry. She’s gone.’

  There was a long silence before he murmured, ‘And she’s not coming back, is she? I thought as much. Can’t handle sickness and – and cripples.’

  ‘You, a cripple?’ Jenny forced a bantering note into her tone, though all she felt like doing was bowing her head and sobbing. ‘Don’t make me laugh. You’ll be up and about on your tin leg in no time. Your dad’s already thinking of making enquiries about hospitals that treat – ’ she faltered over the word, but it had to be said – ‘amputees.’

  ‘But you’re still here, aren’t you, little Jenny? You’ve been here all night.’

  ‘Hey, not so much of the “little”. I’m a big girl now.’

  He turned his head on the pillow and looked into her face, staring at her as if he was really seeing her for the person she was now. ‘You won’t leave me, will you?’

  ‘No, Georgie, I’ll never leave
you.’

  ‘But you’re going to be a famous artist and travel all over the world. You won’t want to be stuck in Ravens-fleet with a—’

  She put her finger against his lips. ‘Don’t you dare say it.’

  He caught hold of her hand and pressed it to his lips. ‘How blind I’ve been. Searching for love in all the wrong places when it was here all the time.’

  Firmly, he replaced her hand. ‘Go and get some rest, but you will come back, won’t you, Jen? Promise?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she breathed. It was the easiest promise she’d ever made in her life.

  As she walked out of the hospital and towards Miles waiting in the car, she lifted up her face to the early morning sunshine, closed her eyes for a moment and whispered a prayer of thankfulness.

  The war that had so changed all their lives had been over for some time, and now Jenny’s own private battle was won too.

  At last, at long last, Georgie loved her.

  ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON

  Plough the Furrow

  Sow the Seed

  Reap the Harvest

  The Miller’s Daughter

  Chaff upon the Wind

  The Fisher Lass

  The Tulip Girl

  The River Folk

  Tangled Threads

  Twisted Strands

  Red Sky in the Morning

  Without Sin

  Pauper’s Gold

  Wish Me Luck

  Sing As We Go

  Suffragette Girl

  Sons and Daughters

  Forgive and Forget

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Whilst Jenny’s War is not a sequel, the story is linked to my novel, Sons and Daughters. Since the publication of that novel in 2010, several readers have told me that they wanted to know what had happened to the little evacuee girl, Jenny Mercer, and so here is her story. There is, deliberately, an overlap with the earlier novel so that this one, too, is a complete, stand-alone story. I hope those who have read Sons and Daughters will understand the need for this and will enjoy the scenes told this time from Jenny’s viewpoint.

  First published 2012 by Macmillan

  This electronic edition published 2012 by Macmillan

  an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited

  Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR

  Basingstoke and Oxford

  Associated companies throughout the world

  www.panmacmillan.com

  ISBN EPUB 978-1-4472-1347-5

  Copyright © Margaret Dickinson 2012

  The right of Margaret Dickinson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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