‘I worked myself to a standstill sometimes,’ she went on, ‘doing everything I could to help the sick and the wounded, hoping to atone that way for the terrible things I did.’
She half expected him to contradict her, to tell her that nothing she had done was so terrible, but after a lengthy silence, he said, ‘Yes, you were a bitch, weren’t you?’
The shock of his condemnation unplugged the hard core that usually stoppered her heart and she sobbed, ‘I was eaten up with love and jealousy . . . and hate. I didn’t care who I hurt, but when Neil married Freda, I knew it was over. Then, when I found out I was pregnant, the only thing I could do was to leave home.’
‘You didn’t need to get rid of the baby.’
‘I couldn’t have it. Every time I looked at it, I’d have remembered Neil and, anyway, how could I make a decent life for myself if I’d an infant to look after?’
‘Other girls have managed but maybe you’re not like them. I think your mother coddled you . . . does she know yet?’
‘I didn’t write to her until a few weeks ago, then I told her not quite everything and said I’d never embarrass her by going home again.’
‘That was kind of silly, wasn’t it?’
‘What must she think of me? But it’s not really Mum I’m worried about, it’s my Auntie Gracie – that’s Neil’s mother. I couldn’t let her know what I did.’
Ron screwed up his face, chewing over how to advise her. ‘You’ll likely hate me for this, Scottie, but I believe you should go home and tell your auntie, face to face.’
Her tears stopped with outrage. ‘I can’t, and I don’t know how you could even suggest it. Look, Ron, I don’t know what possessed me to tell you, but please forget it.’ She stood up resolutely. ‘It’s time we went back.’
While she was replacing the blanket round his shoulders, he said, ‘You told me because it was festering inside you. You felt you had to tell somebody and I’m an outsider, not connected with it at all. I bet confessing to me hasn’t helped you? Be honest now.’
With her free hand, Olive tucked the blanket behind his back, then gave a low moan. ‘You’re right, it hasn’t. When I began, I thought it would, but . . .’
‘If I’d sympathised with you, would that have helped?’
‘No, I don’t believe it would.’ Extracting her imprisoned hand, she turned the wheelchair round. The uphill push back took all her strength and she was relieved when an orderly overtook them. ‘I’ll take over,’ he said, jauntily, nudging her out of the way.
‘Thanks. It’s hard going.’
When they reached the top, he handed over again, ‘I’d have come all the way with you but I’m late as it is.’
‘I’ll manage now. Thanks again.’
‘I’m glad you told me,’ Ron observed, suddenly. ‘I used to wonder if anything got through to you, you always looked so efficient, so self-controlled. But I’ve discovered you’re as human as the rest of us. Everything you did was because you had a one-track mind.’
‘A one-track mind?’ Olive repeated, sadly, negotiating the chair round an awkward corner. ‘That’s putting it mildly. I trampled over everything and everybody to get Neil, and I ended up destroying myself. Oh, God, I don’t want to think about it any more.’
The move came just over a week later. Olive and three other nurses were detailed to accompany the remaining patients in an ambulance plane, while the rest of the unit went with the medical supplies by train to Bremerhaven, to be ferried to Dover by boat. An hour before the air passengers were to be collected, Ron took another turn, lashing out at anyone who went near him. Olive got a hefty punch in the face when they were trying to restrain him and the MO ordered that he be given an injection to knock him out. Despite her throbbing cheekbone, she burst out, ‘He’ll be all right in a minute or two.’ She didn’t blame Ron; it was all the upheaval that had set him off.
It stopped as suddenly as it had started, and he lay back quietly, beads of perspiration standing out on his forehead. ‘It’s very sad, isn’t it?’ Gladwys whispered, when they were making sure that the rest of their charges were ready to be transported to the nearest airstrip. ‘Ron’s such a nice man when he’s normal.’
Olive nodded, bleakly. He was very nice as a rule, and the best thing about him was his complete honesty. He didn’t say things he didn’t mean because they’d be the correct things to say, and his blunt forthrightness after their little talk had done her far more good than any long-winded, insincere sympathy. She had often considered the advice he had given and maybe she would take it one day. Telling Gracie face to face was probably the only way she could ease her guilt. One day . . . but not yet.
Chapter Twenty-eight
When Ron informed Olive that his mother had died, her first thought was that he would have no one to look after him when he was discharged from hospital. After making enquiries and being told that he would be sent to a permanent home for the disabled, she pitied him all the more. He would hate it. There must be an alternative.
The solution came to her one sleepless night. He was much more friendly with her than with any of the others but how would he react if she were his only nurse? Would he even agree to it? He would likely accuse her of feeling sorry for him and she would have to swear that she wasn’t. After all, she thought, ruefully, she used to be an accomplished liar a few years ago, but surely that did not warrant the sacrifice of devoting herself exclusively to a man who was subject to fits of violence and required attention twenty-four hours a day? Another facet of the problem struck her. Was she really so inhuman that she would allow Ron to be incarcerated in an institution, friendless and embittered?
When Olive rose in the morning, her mind was made up, but she still had not decided on the best way to go about it. She would have to wangle it so that Ron would think it was his idea; it was the only way he would countenance it. There was no immediate hurry, however. She would act only when the powers-that-be began to make arrangements for his discharge, possibly not for months yet, which would give her plenty of time to work out exactly what to say.
Ron had also spent most of the night thinking and tackled her that afternoon. He still had not mastered the art of using the crutches the doctors were determined he would use – he was sure he never would – so the nurses took turns in taking him out in the wheelchair, and it was Olive’s turn that day. The June sky over Sussex was quite bright but it was not as warm as it had been, so she wrapped him up well and set off at a brisk pace.
They hadn’t gone very far when Ron asked her to stop. ‘I want to talk to you, Scottie. I know it won’t be long before they put me out of here and I’ve been wondering about the future. I think I could tackle a sitting job, in a factory, maybe, or an office, but I’m willing to have a bash at any dashed thing. What d’you think?’
She didn’t have to think. He might be capable of an easy job, though who would employ him when he might lash out at his workmates without warning? But that wasn’t the issue. ‘Would you manage to look after yourself? What about getting dressed, bathing and can you cook for yourself?’
‘That’s what’s been bothering me. I could always eat out but I don’t suppose I’d be able to afford it on the wages I could make, or pay for a woman to come in. In any case, I’d hate a stranger having to do . . . what you nurses have had to do for me . . . the personal things.’
‘Maybe an ex-nurse?’ Olive suggested, timidly, paving the way for her plan. ‘Some nurses would jump at the chance of having just one patient, and you’d get help to pay.’
‘Would you jump at the chance?’
‘Me?’ She pretended to be astonished. ‘I’ve never thought about it, but . . .’
‘It’s a bit too much to ask, but I wouldn’t mind you being with me all the time. To tell the truth, Scottie, I think . . . I’ve fallen in love with you. You wouldn’t consider marrying me, would you?’
This was something she hadn’t expected. ‘Marrying you? I don’t know. I am fond of you, Ron, but I d
on’t love you.’
‘I never thought you did, and it’s likely better that you don’t. I’m only half a man, don’t forget, so I couldn’t make love to you, I shouldn’t think, but marriage would give you security.’
‘You don’t need to marry me. I’ll come and look after you anyway, if you want me to.’
‘I want to marry you,’ Ron said doggedly.
‘Will you give me time to think about it?’
‘I want a plain yes or no right now, Scottie.’
Olive thought quickly. She had planned to tie herself to him anyway and if marriage made him happy, it would be all to the good. ‘Yes,’ she murmured.
His icy hand enveloped hers. ‘Thanks. Now, how about going back inside? It’s cold out here.’
‘We’d better not say anything to anybody just yet. They’ll only tease us and talk about us behind our backs.’
His eyes twinkled suddenly. ‘Let’s give them something to talk about. You’d make a lovely June bride, you know.’
‘But it’s June now. We can’t be married as soon as . . .’
‘We can, if we arrange it tomorrow. Three weeks, and you could be Mrs Ronald Percival White.’
‘Percival?’ She couldn’t help laughing.
‘After my mother’s uncle – he went to America and made a fortune. I think she hoped I’d fall heir to it, seeing I was named after him, but I never smelt a cent when he died. If you’re trying to make me forget what I was saying, it hasn’t worked. June’s perfect for a wedding.’
She had committed herself to him already, and she couldn’t back out now. ‘You’re on,’ she smiled.
Pulling her head down, he gave her a boisterous kiss. ‘You can take out the marriage licence and I’ll ask the padre to marry us.’
The arrangements were set in motion but Olive suspected that Ron had changed his mind only three days later when he said, looking very serious, ‘There’s something we’ll have to clear up before we get married.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You said once that you couldn’t go home and you told me exactly why. Remember?’
Alarmed at this being brought up now, she said, ‘Yes, but I can’t see what . . .’
‘I want you to go back to Aberdeen and face up to it.’
‘I told you I’d written to my mother,’ she said hastily.
‘You didn’t tell her, though, and if I remember rightly, it wasn’t your mother that was worrying you. Wasn’t it an auntie – the boy’s mother?’
Olive’s stomach churned. ‘Yes, but I couldn’t tell Gracie, really I couldn’t.’
‘Look, Scottie, this thing’s got to be sorted out. If it carries on, you’re going to end up all twisted inside and two twisted minds together could spell danger.’
His awareness of his mental shortcomings astounded her but what he said was true. ‘I’ll write to Mum tonight, then, and tell her I’m coming home, and I promise to tell her and Gracie while I’m there.’
‘You’ll feel much better once you’ve got it off your chest . . . and so will I.’
Her sister looked so agitated that Gracie was alarmed, ‘Has something happened to Raymond?’
‘No, he was fine the last I heard. They’re still fighting the Japs in Burma, of course, but it’s not him I’m . . . I got a letter from Olive today. She’ll be home tomorrow morning.’
‘Home for good?’
‘She didn’t say and I don’t know if I want her here after she walked out without any explanation.’
‘Make sure it’s what you want before you let her stay, if that’s what she’s coming to ask.’
‘I can’t see her on my own,’ Hetty wailed. ‘You’ll have to come to support me.’
‘She’ll be too embarrassed to say anything if anybody else is here,’ Gracie said, but Hetty’s woebegone expression made her feel ashamed. ‘You’d be best to see her on your own for a start, but I’ll come later on, if like.’ She paused. ‘Will Martin not want to be here? She’s his daughter as well.’
‘I’m not going to tell him she’s coming. I’m terrified he might start on her and there would be an awful fight, and I couldn’t bear that. She’s coming at nine, so I’d be grateful to you, Gracie, if . . .’
‘I’ll be here at ten. That’ll give you an hour.’
Olive’s heart beat faster as the train sped ever nearer to Aberdeen and she wished that she had stood her ground with Ron and refused to come. This meeting with her mother would be fraught with disturbing memories but it wouldn’t be half as bad as confessing to Gracie. Whatever she said – and she didn’t intend to whitewash her actions – her aunt would find it impossible to forgive what she had done.
She took a taxi from the station and rang the doorbell of her old home rather tentatively.
‘Olive!’ Hetty could not stop herself from holding out her arms to the daughter she had loved so much. ‘I often used to wonder how you were but you look very well.’ As she led the way inside, a tear trickled down her cheek.
Olive was determined not to be emotional. ‘You don’t look very well yourself. Have you been ill?’
‘I didn’t sleep much last night.’
Hetty hovered about as Olive sat down, pouring out the tea she had made a few minutes before, and making sure that her daughter had helped herself to sugar and milk before she sat down, more nervous than ever now that the crucial moment had come. ‘Olive, I’m not going to give you a lecture, I can’t deny that I was shocked when you left though I had a good idea why.’
The girl shook her head ruefully, ‘No, you’ve no idea why and you’re going to be so shocked when I tell you, you won’t want to see me again.’ Taking a deep breath, she began her story, slowly and painfully, missing nothing out.
Hetty’s face gradually paled and though she made several attempts to interrupt, Olive carried on and it wasn’t until she came to the pregnancy that her mother burst out, ‘That’s why you weren’t looking well. I should have known . . . and it must have been Neil’s, because you . . .’
‘Yes,’ Olive admitted unwillingly, ‘it was Neil’s.’
‘So you went away to have the baby. But where is it now?’
‘This is the most difficult part to tell you. You see, I . . . didn’t go away to have the baby, I went away to have an abortion.’
Hetty’s hand flew to her palpitating heart, ‘Oh, my God! How could you?’
‘It was the only thing I could do. You guessed right away that it was Neil’s and Gracie would have, too, and . . .’ The gossamer thread of self control broke at last and she threw up her hands and sobbed, ‘I’d made Neil’s life enough of a misery before and I just couldn’t let anybody know. There would have been such a furore, it would have affected all of you; you and Dad, Gracie and Joe – and Freda and Neil worst of all. At least he didn’t know anything about it. You must promise never to breathe a word of it to anybody, Mum.’
Her thoughts in complete chaos, Hetty gave herself no time to consider what she was about to say ‘I won’t even tell your father, but it’s ironic . . . no, that’s not strong enough, but it’s all I can think of . . . it’s ironic that you had that awful thing done to you because Neil was married then Freda was killed just months after.’
‘Freda’s dead?’ Olive gasped, her face blanching. ‘How?’
‘It was an accident with her bicycle, so you didn’t need to . . .’ Hetty floundered now, ‘You didn’t need to . . . you could have . . . I understand why you did it but . . . what I mean is, you could have had the baby, Neil would have married you.’ The last part came out in a rush.
It was several seconds before her daughter said with a small, scornful laugh, ‘Do you really think he would? Patsy and Raymond both told me years ago that he didn’t even like me, and it’s true, though I didn’t believe them at the time. I didn’t know his wife was going to be killed and, anyway, even though he’d been willing, I wouldn’t have married him knowing he didn’t love me.’
‘He might have grown to love y
ou.’
‘Oh, Mum, you’re living in cloud cuckoo land. I did what I thought was best though, sometimes, when I wasn’t too busy, I regretted it and I was plagued by the thought that I had taken a human life. That’s why I worked so hard to save as many lives as I could.’
Pity for her welled up in Hetty now. ‘Tell me what you’ve been doing,’ she prompted. ‘I see you went into the army.’
‘The Medical Corps, and that’s what kept me going.’ Having laid her other troubles out, Olive now gave a heartrending account of the men she had nursed and how she had hated when they were transferred before she knew if they would recover from their wounds. ‘Of course,’ she ended, with a catch in her voice, ‘some of them will never be healed. It was one of them who made me come home and tell you everything. Ron is paralysed from the waist down and his brain was damaged . . . a little, so he takes violent turns. They’re not so frequent now, though he does get fits of depression occasionally, but he’s a good man most of the time, one of the best.’
Her curiosity aroused by the softness in Olive’s eyes and voice, Hetty said, ‘You sound as if you love him.’
‘I don’t love him, but I’m going to marry him.’
‘You can’t tie yourself to . . .’
‘To half a man?’ Olive’s lips twitched in a semblance of a smile. ‘Why not? He’s got nobody else, his parents are both dead now.’
‘But aren’t there places for people like him? A Home? Some kind of institution? A mental hospital? It’s where he should be if his brain’s damaged, with nurses who’ve been trained for that kind of thing.’
‘I’ve been trained for that,’ Olive said quietly. ‘I made a muck of so many lives in my time – Queenie’s and Neil’s as well as my own – but I know now that my love for him was warped and I won’t find peace until I do something positive for somebody who needs me. That’s why I’m marrying Ron.’
An electric silence followed, broken only when Gracie came in, stopping when she saw the two tense women, one holding back tears of sympathy, and the other holding her head up defiantly, although her eyes were glittering with moisture. ‘Maybe I’d better go away again,’ she muttered.
Cousins at War Page 30