Pack Up Your Troubles

by Pam Weaver

  Roger righted the chair and Kenneth sank into it, his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking.

  ‘Shhh,’ Connie soothed. ‘It’s all right, Kenny.’

  The rest of the men melted away. They’d seen reunions like this before. Some of them had even had their own. They were painful, but once everyone got over the terrible shock, they were usually therapeutic.

  Someone tapped Roger on the shoulder. ‘Fancy a drink, mate?’

  ‘I thought he’d agreed to her coming,’ Roger accused.

  The scarred man looked a little sheepish. ‘He’ll be fine in a minute. You look as if you need a stiff one and this place is famous for its grogging parties.’ His benefactor was about twenty-three with a deeply scarred face. His eyebrows were missing and his hairline began somewhere near the crown of his head. ‘So, what’s your poison?’

  Roger followed the others indoors.

  Connie was crouched down in front of Kenneth, with one hand on his knee and the other on his arm. ‘I’m here now, Kenny,’ she said softly. ‘I’m here.’

  Eventually he regained control of his emotions and lifted his head. Connie stood, bending over him with her arms around his shoulders, her forehead to his forehead.

  ‘Oh, Connie,’ he wept, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’

  It took a while before either of them could talk. She drew a chair close to him and put her hands over his poor scarred hand and the stump. She kissed his cheek and smiled up at him as if he were the same handsome brother who had left home all those years ago. To her, he was. To her he might be damaged but he was her perfect brother, her Kenny, and she had him back at last.

  A nurse put a tea tray on the table beside them. Connie looked up and mouthed a thank you.

  ‘Is there anything else I can get you?’ she asked.

  Connie shook her head. Kenneth tried to get something out of his pocket and the nurse anticipated his movement. Pulling out a neatly folded handkerchief, she shook it and handed it to him. ‘Do you want me to ask someone to come and look at your pedicle?’

  It was only then that Connie really looked at the long trunk-like skin hanging from his nose. She guessed crying must make it feel uncomfortable.

  ‘You do it,’ Kenneth told the nurse, and while the nurse busied herself cleaning him up, Connie turned her attention to the tea. There were three cups and saucers on the tray but Roger had disappeared. She could hear the sound of laughter coming from inside. No need to worry about him. He was obviously all right.

  ‘How did you find me?’ said Kenneth when the nurse had gone. ‘Did Mum ask you to come?’

  Connie shook her head. It took a while to explain that most likely Ga had prevented their mother from knowing where Kenneth was. ‘You know we’ve moved to Goring-by-Sea?’ she said.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ said Kenneth. ‘Was that because of me?’

  Connie grasped his fingers. ‘Of course not!’ she cried. In truth she’d never put the two things together but this wasn’t the time to go into all that. ‘Mum got married again and Ga bought the nurseries.’

  Kenneth was staggered. ‘Mum got married?’

  ‘To Clifford Craig,’ said Connie. She wished she hadn’t blurted it out like that. It must have been a shock to hear their mother had married again.

  Kenneth beamed. ‘I remember him. He was a really nice bloke.’

  ‘He still is,’ Connie laughed in relief. ‘They have a little girl now. Mandy.’ She opened her bag and took out the photographs she had brought especially to show him. Kenneth studied them carefully. ‘You can keep them if you like,’ said Connie. He gazed lovingly at the family picture with unshed tears glistening in his eyes. They talked for ages. Kenneth wanted to hear all about the WAAFs and now her nursing experience.

  ‘I love it,’ smiled Connie. There was a lull in the conversation and then Connie said, ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘You may not think so to look at me,’ he said, ‘but I’m lucky to be alive. I lost the undercarriage in ’45. We thought we’d be all right but as soon as we realised we were on fire, God alone knows how it landed. I can hardly remember what happened except for the bloody flames. They came between my legs and were twenty feet above me. My hand was burnt straight away and it seized up altogether. Funnily enough, I didn’t even feel my face.’

  ‘Oh, Kenny,’ said Connie.

  ‘I vaguely remember them dragging me out of the cockpit,’ he went on. ‘I was on fire and they rolled me in the grass to smother the flames. The rest of the crew …’ he faltered and swallowed hard. Connie squeezed his hand again and he took a deep breath. ‘They took me to the local hospital and they did the best they could, but eventually, I got sent here. Best thing that ever happened to me.’

  ‘Mum will be so relieved to know you are still alive.’

  His head jerked up. ‘You mustn’t tell Mum,’ he said.

  ‘But Kenny …’

  ‘No,’ he cried. ‘Absolutely not. I don’t want her to see me like this. Please Connie, you’ve got to promise me you won’t tell her.’

  Connie stared at him helplessly. ‘She wouldn’t care, Kenny. So long as you’re alive and on the road to recovery, she’d look past all this.’

  ‘No!’ Kenneth insisted. ‘I’d sooner top myself than let her see me like this.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Connie cried. ‘Please don’t say such things. I can’t bear it. All right, I won’t tell, but please don’t ask me to keep it a secret forever. Mum would never forgive me.’

  ‘Just let me get this thing sorted out first,’ said Kenneth pointing to his nose.

  Connie nodded bleakly. This wasn’t what she was expecting. She’d wanted a fairy-tale reunion and for Kenneth to come home. He looked exhausted.

  ‘Do you need to rest?’ she said. ‘I’ll go if you’re tired.’

  ‘I am a bit,’ he said.

  ‘I have a train to catch anyway,’ she smiled.

  Kenneth rang a little bell the nurse had placed on the tea tray. ‘Who’s the chap you came with? Is he your beau?’

  Connie shook her head. ‘Just a friend.’ Out of the corner of her eye she could see Roger hovering near the doorway. She nodded for him to come out on the terrace.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve got someone, Connie,’ smiled Kenneth. ‘I did wonder after that business with Stan Saul.’

  Connie shot to her feet. Hearing that name again after all this time still made her feel physically sick. She staggered and would have fallen had not Roger reached her and grabbed her arm. Kenneth had risen from his seat as well. ‘I’m an absolute idiot,’ he said. ‘I never should have mentioned him … sorry.’

  Connie’s mind was a complete jumble. Those horrible memories she’d spent so long pushing away came rushing back. Stan kissing her on the mouth, sucking her lips into his own mouth and pushing his tongue between her teeth. It was horrible and his smoky breath was disgusting. She hated it. Her head was spinning. Now she could still see Stan flying down the stairs dressed only in his shirt, his hands covering his modesty and when he reached the bottom, his clothes hit him on the back of his head. Then he’d looked up at her and pointed his finger. She shuddered. Even now, just the thought of him scared her half to death.

  ‘She’s going to faint,’ cried Kenneth. ‘Do something. Dear God, I never meant for this to happen. I only said his name.’

  Roger forced Connie back onto the chair and the nurse who appeared in answer to the bell took charge. ‘Breathe slowly,’ she told Connie as she made her put her head between her legs. Roger stood over her with quiet and puzzled concern. Someone gave Connie a glass of water and she gradually stopped trembling and regained her composure.

  ‘We’ve put Kenneth on his bed,’ the nurse said eventually. ‘It’s probably best if you say goodbye to him now. He’s very upset about what happened.’

  Now recovered and leaning on Roger’s arm, Connie went to say goodbye to Kenneth. Roger waited at the foot of the bed as brother and sister whispered together.

&nbs
p; ‘It was because of Stan that you left home, wasn’t it?’ said Connie.

  Kenneth hung his head and nodded. ‘Ga blamed me for what happened,’ he said, ‘but I promise you, that bastard hoodwinked me just the same as he did you.’

  ‘I know,’ said Connie. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

  Kenneth squeezed her hand. ‘You have no idea what that means to me,’ he said. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  ‘Let me tell Mum …’

  ‘No,’ said Kenneth, his eyes blazing once more. ‘If she comes here, I shall make them send her away.’

  Connie sighed. ‘I’ll come and see you when I can,’ she said, pushing her hospital address into his hand. ‘I’ll write but I can’t come every week. Mum expects me to go home on my days off.’

  Kenneth nodded. ‘But you will come?’

  ‘Just try and stop me,’ she smiled.

  Roger took her to a small café in the town. They were the only customers and as they walked in the radio was playing ‘You Are My Sunshine’. Connie was emotionally exhausted and was glad of a few minutes in which to gather her thoughts and relax.

  ‘My little sister’s favourite tune,’ she smiled at Roger.

  ‘I like that one too,’ he said. In truth he didn’t know what to say.

  The waitress, a rather bored looking girl with plain straight hair and buck teeth, took their order. Connie stared out of the window. She was glad of Roger’s company but she wished she was with someone she could talk to. He was kind and considerate but she didn’t know Roger well enough to offload her family secrets. He reached for her hand on the table and gave it a squeeze.

  ‘This has been one hell of a day for you,’ he ventured.

  Connie nodded. ‘Thank you for coming. It made it a lot easier having someone with me.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ he smiled.

  ‘I never got around to telling you that Eva has been unwell.’

  She told him about his sister’s illness and meeting his family for the first time. ‘Your grandmother and my great aunt used to be friends.’

  ‘Apparently,’ he agreed. ‘I think Gran always wanted to patch it up but Olive and Agatha wouldn’t wear it. They never forgave her for marrying my grandfather.’

  Connie was curious about the man loved by two women. ‘What was he like?’

  Roger smiled. ‘Just about the best grandfather a chap could have.’ By the time their pie and mash meal arrived he had waded into childhood memories ranging from catching tiddlers in the local pond to ferreting for rabbits and bareback riding on the downs, all done with a dearly loved grandparent.

  ‘I greatly admired him because he never let his war wound hold him back,’ said Roger.

  ‘Oh yes, his war wound,’ said Connie faintly.

  ‘He only had one leg and he’d lost the sight in his right eye,’ said Roger. ‘They were a tough lot back then. Once they set their minds on something, they’d go for it.’

  ‘What did your grandfather do for a living?’

  ‘He carried on with the family tradition,’ said Roger. ‘He was a stonemason.’

  Roger looked thoughtful as he played with his spoon on the table. ‘Connie, who was Stan Saul?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about him,’ Connie said quickly.

  Roger nodded. ‘Well, if ever you do …’ he began.

  ‘I won’t,’ said Connie firmly.

  After their meal, Roger took her to the station and they said their goodbyes. When he kissed her, it was as soft as a butterfly’s wing brushing her lips and something within her was aroused. Connie closed her eyes waiting for the next kiss but it never came. He had left her wanting more.

  ‘Even though it was a difficult day for you, Connie,’ he smiled, ‘I’ve enjoyed being with you.’

  ‘And I with you,’ she said shyly. ‘Thank you for being there.’

  ‘Take care,’ he said kissing her on the cheek. ‘I’ll write.’

  She leaned out of the carriage window until the train moved off. He waved and then he was gone. She liked Roger. He was a kind man.

  Eighteen

  Eva was dying to hear all about it. She was fully recovered from her bout of flu and as soon as she’d checked back into the nurses’ home, she came looking for Connie who was in the laundry washing her smalls. Connie dried her hands and the two friends embraced warmly.

  ‘Are you sure you’re well enough to come back?’ Connie asked anxiously.

  ‘There’s only so much soup and chocolate cake a girl can have,’ she laughed. ‘It was lovely to be home, but Mum drove me nuts with her fussing. Your friend Jane Jackson came with an orange. Did you tell her I was ill?’

  Connie nodded and turned her attention back to the sink.

  ‘She tells me she’s met someone. He goes to her church and she says he’s lovely.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ said Connie. ‘She deserves someone nice. Did she say anything about Sally Burndell?’

  ‘Only that she’s staying with her aunt for a bit longer,’ said Eva, making herself comfortable on the laundry table. ‘She found out that her boyfriend has left the army but he’s never got in touch. She thinks he had some poison pen letters.’

  ‘Yes, I heard that too,’ said Connie. ‘I ask you, who would do a thing like that?’

  ‘There are some really sick people out there, Connie,’ said Eva. ‘Now, tell me about your brother.’

  Connie was glad of someone to talk to about Kenneth. Roger had wanted to know all about him but she was reluctant to say too much. She had written to Kenneth a couple of times since she’d got back and she was due to go home to Belvedere Nurseries on her next day off. ‘I’ve never been good at keeping secrets,’ she told Eva, ‘and he flatly refuses to let me tell Mum he’s alive and well.’

  ‘Why doesn’t he want her to see him?’ Eva asked.

  As Connie wrung her things out and put them on the draining board she explained about the walking stalk skin flap and Kenneth’s ongoing rhinoplasty. ‘To be honest,’ she said, ‘it makes him look as if he has an elephant’s trunk and he hates the idea of Mum seeing him like that.’

  ‘Perfectly understandable,’ said Eva.

  Of course it was. How silly of her not to realise. Connie hadn’t really thought about it from Kenneth’s point of view. Her whole focus had been on how difficult it would be keeping the secret. Yes, Kenneth was right. It would be much better to wait for a while and then see Mum when he had some semblance of a normal face. ‘He must be an amazing man to work for,’ Connie observed.

  ‘Who, Kenneth?’

  ‘No, Mr McIndoe,’ said Connie plunging everything back into the rinsing water. ‘In the way he’s pioneered the way people with terrible burns are treated. They say he even got the Ministry of Aircraft Production down there to see what damage their aircraft can do to the men trapped inside.’

  ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘He was trying to get them to build safer aircraft.’

  ‘I can’t say I would have even thought of that,’ Eva nodded. ‘I wish I’d brought my ironing down while we talked.’

  ‘How is Steven?’ Connie was surprised that Eva hadn’t yet mentioned the love of her life.

  Eva grinned and looked a little coy. ‘He’s lovely. Oh Connie, he’s such a wonderful man. I never thought I would say this about anyone after Dermid but I love him so much.’

  ‘I know you do,’ Connie laughed. She tipped the rinsing water away and took her things to the mangle. ‘It’s in your eyes.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Eva. ‘Does it really show? It’s so important to keep it a secret. You know going out with the junior doctors is strictly off limits. Sister Hayes would go loopy if she found out.’

  Connie squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘Your secret is safe with all of us,’ she said. ‘You two were made for each other so just enjoy it.’

  Eva mouthed a silent thank you. ‘I’ve made arrangements to go and see Queenie. I hope she won’t be too upset.’

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ said Connie and
her friend nodded.

  ‘Your brother was so kind,’ Connie said and Eva listened starry eyed as she told her of Roger’s gentleness when she had collapsed. ‘He took me for a meal afterwards. I’m afraid I wasn’t up to much by the end of the evening but he had me laughing.’

  ‘He’s like that,’ Eva smiled. ‘Could there be …?’

  ‘Eva, don’t,’ Connie interrupted. ‘What with training and worrying about Kenneth …’ She hung everything on the overhead pulley. She didn’t say so, but with all this Stan business being raked up, Connie was in two minds about everything. She didn’t tell Eva that Roger had already written to her. It was a chatty letter, telling her that he was going up to Yorkshire for a refresher course for a few days and asking her to write. ‘It gets a bit lonely for a chap in a strange place,’ he’d written, ‘so it would be nice to have the odd letter from a friend.’ She hadn’t replied but it sounded as if he was keen on her. ‘I don’t even want to think about romance right now …’

  Eva put her hands up in mock surrender. ‘All right, all right, keep your hair on,’ she laughed.

  While Connie cleared up, Eva told her about her illness. ‘My granny had me inhaling Friar’s Balsam and Mum kept me in bed for ages …’ But by now, Connie was only half listening. She was thinking about her nightmare journey home from East Grinstead. She’d been totally exhausted, both physically and mentally drained and yet every time she’d tried to relax, that awful face would push its way into her thoughts. She hadn’t really thought about Stan Saul for years but ever since Kenneth said his name, she could almost smell his sweaty body above her and feel his breath on her cheeks.

  Eva jumped down from the table. ‘Connie, you’re miles away. Something is wrong.’

  ‘Umm? Oh, sorry,’ said Connie. ‘Go on. I am listening.’

  ‘No,’ said Eva. ‘I can tell by your face that you’ve got something on your mind. Come on, out with it.’

  ‘I was thinking about something that happened when I was thirteen,’ she began, ‘and it’s not a pretty story.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Eva uncertainly.