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Pack Up Your Troubles

Page 27

by Pam Weaver


  ‘There we are, Mrs Meyer,’ she said brushing her hair gently. ‘Sister’s got a little surprise for you.’

  ‘Not ice cream,’ joked Mrs Meyer. ‘I hate ice cream.’

  Connie grinned. ‘Better than ice cream,’ she promised. She could hear voices on the other side of the curtain. ‘Your daughter is here.’

  ‘My Judy? Here?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  Mrs Meyer shook her head. ‘Oh no, dear. My Judy lives in Africa.’

  ‘And she’s here to see you,’ said Connie as the curtain opened slightly and a middle-aged woman stepped beside the bed. Connie manoeuvred the chair, and Judy Meyer sat down. ‘Hello, Mum.’

  A lump formed in Connie’s throat when she saw tears glistening in her patient’s eyes. ‘Oh Judy. I never thought I’d see you again. How are you, love?’

  By midday it was all over. Judy and Mrs Meyer had said their goodbyes and her mother had gone peacefully. Connie was asked to perform one last duty for her. As she washed her poor thin body, Connie reflected that her whole life was dedicated to the care and treatment of her patients but there came a time when it was time to let them go. She’d liked Mrs Meyer. She’d often told Connie about her faith and explained that she was ready to go.

  ‘I’m so tired,’ she once told Connie. ‘I’m ready for a bit of peace and quiet, although I don’t suppose it’ll be that peaceful up there. All that singing … Never mind, I’ve had a good life.’

  To Connie’s way of thinking, Mrs Meyer had had a hard life. Orphaned at a young age and stuck in a children’s home for years, she’d married a fellow inmate almost as soon as they’d left it. He’d left her a widow with two small children so she’d had to take cleaning jobs to survive. Her son had been killed somewhere over Germany in 1940 and her daughter was a missionary in Kenya. Not an easy life at all and yet Mrs Meyer made the best of everything even when it came to dying. ‘I’m lucky to have a clean bed and all you lovely nurses to look after me,’ she’d once said.

  Connie wiped a tear from her eye and blew her nose. She’d done the last thing for her and Mrs Meyer was ready for the undertaker. She left the curtain closed and went to clear up her trolley. When she came back to the desk to report her completed duty, Matron was sitting there looking at the patient’s notes. Connie felt the old nervousness come back.

  ‘Mrs Meyer is ready, Matron,’ she said quietly. It was policy to speak in hushed tones when someone had died. Nobody wanted the rest of the ward to be upset.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean, nurse?’ Matron snapped. ‘When you give a report, for heaven’s sake speak clearly and precisely.’

  Connie chewed her bottom lip anxiously. She gave Sister a helpless look. ‘I have laid out Mrs Meyer,’ Connie said in the same hushed tones.

  ‘Speak up, girl,’ Matron insisted.

  ‘Mrs Meyer is ready for the undertaker,’ said Connie.

  Matron stared at her for a couple of seconds and then said, ‘Why didn’t you say so in the first place?’

  ‘Thank you, Nurse Dixon,’ said Sister. ‘You can go off duty now.’

  Matron made a point of looking at her watch.

  ‘Nurse Dixon should have gone off duty an hour ago,’ said Sister. ‘She kindly stayed on to lay out the patient because we are short-staffed.’

  Connie walked down the ward, conscious of Matron’s eyes boring into her receding back. She was late, very late. In fact she wasn’t at all sure that by the time she’d got back to the nurses’ home and changed, there would be time to catch the bus. As she walked down the ward, Connie could see Nurse Boiling doing her best to comfort Mrs Jenkins. A very nervous woman, Mrs Jenkins was convinced she wouldn’t survive her operation anyway. Really, it was too bad of Matron to make her talk about the undertaker like that. And why was Matron so aggressive towards her? Connie couldn’t understand it. As she reached the swing doors, she thought she could heard Mrs Meyer’s voice. ‘Don’t forget she’s just the same as us with her drawers around her ankles first thing in the morning.’

  Connie turned as she closed the door. Matron was still sitting at the desk, her giant legs akimbo and Connie could just imagine the biggest pair of bloomers imaginable draped around her ankles.

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Meyer,’ Connie whispered as she turned for the nurses’ home.

  It was a bit of a mad rush but if she ran all the way, she still might be in time for the 2.10 bus. That was supposed to arrive near the pick-up point at 2.30. Exactly the same time as the coach was leaving.

  It was unusual for Olive to come to her house and Aggie’s surprise must have shown as she opened the door. By the look on Olive’s face, her friend was furious. Aggie stepped back to let her in.

  ‘She’s found Kenneth,’ said Olive, taking off her coat. ‘I’ve been trying to get up here for days but what with one thing and another … Anyway, I’ve found out that she’s been going up to East Grinstead to see him.’

  ‘How?’ Aggie gasped.

  ‘I don’t know exactly,’ said Olive. ‘What are we going to do? Supposing she brings him home?’

  ‘She’s got to be stopped,’ said Aggie, her eyes widening with fright. ‘It’ll only cause more trouble, you know it will.’

  ‘I know that!’ snapped Olive, ‘but what can I do about it? I told them never to speak of that day but they’re not children anymore. It’s kept them apart for years but it’s bound to come out now.’

  The two friends stared at each other for a second and then Aggie’s face softened. ‘Sit down, dear. I’ll make a cup of tea and then we can decide what to do.’

  ‘Connie?’

  As soon as she heard his voice, Connie’s heart leapt. ‘Roger!’ He was leaning against his car. She had never seen him looking so handsome. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

  He stood up straight. ‘You seem to be in a tearing hurry. Can I give you a lift anywhere?’

  ‘Oh, could you?’ she blurted out. ‘I’m terribly late. Sister made me stay on to lay out a patient and then Matron came onto the ward unexpectedly and …’ She paused and smiled. ‘Listen to me prattling on about nothing. Yes, please, I would love a lift.’

  He opened the passenger door and gave a bow. Laughing, Connie climbed in.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said as he climbed in the driver’s side. ‘Why are you here? How did you know I’d be coming off duty?’

  ‘Eva told me,’ he said starting the engine. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Goring,’ she said. ‘With a bit of luck I can still be in time to catch the coach.’

  ‘Goring?’ He frowned. ‘What coach?’

  He didn’t even flinch when Connie told him about the Sunday school outing.

  Twenty-Six

  The day couldn’t have been more perfect. Jane Jackson stood by the coach door checking her clipboard as the children climbed aboard and her cousin Jeanette Luxton who had travelled all the way from Taunton to help her, made sure everyone was sitting down. As always, it was hard to find helpers. People were glad to get rid of their children for an afternoon but reluctant to come along for the trip. Jane couldn’t really blame them. Most of the families, even in this well-heeled area, worked hard. It was difficult to get free time and when they did, there was always the garden or the allotment to do or aged parents to visit. Mothers and fathers had little time to themselves and so Sunday school from three till four on a Sunday and the outing from two thirty till five once a year made a welcome break and a time to be alone.

  She had the usual stalwarts she knew she could always rely on. Mrs Stevens, Mrs Hawks and Mrs Ibbotson never let her down and they could drum up support in the way of cakes and sandwiches even if they couldn’t persuade people to come along. Jane watched tin after tin going into the boot of the coach and smiled. As usual, there would be plenty to eat. Mr Hawks loaded the big urn and Mr Stevens had made sure the camping stove was all cleaned up and ready to use. The two men kissed their wives goodbye and waved as they climbed aboard the coach. Arnold ha
d volunteered to come too. This was the first time Jane had introduced her new boyfriend to her church friends. He was a bit ‘last minute’ but her father was happy for him to come along. Jane knew he loved children. ‘I’ve brought along a little bit of magic,’ he said as she checked him off the list. He opened his jacket and she saw a bulging bag of sweets. ‘Just in case we need to bribe them to be good,’ he added with a wink.

  ‘I think you only need to stand up to persuade everyone to behave, darling,’ she teased and he nodded ruefully. Arnold was very tall.

  Her father came out of the hired hall. ‘Graham has kindly offered his services too,’ he said, pushing the new pianist forward. The man nodded shyly as Jane thanked him profusely, explaining how difficult it was to retain helpers as he climbed aboard.

  ‘Connie said she’d be here in time to catch the coach,’ said Jane, turning to her father, ‘so that gives me three people to do the teas, and five of us to play the games with them. With twenty-eight children that should be enough, shouldn’t it?’

  ‘You are wonderful, my dear,’ Rev Jackson said, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek. ‘I don’t know how I would manage without you.’

  ‘Time to get going,’ said the driver irritably. He was looking at his watch. ‘I’ve got another job at three.’

  ‘There’s one more person to come,’ said Jane. ‘She won’t be long.’

  It was wonderful sitting beside Roger as they sped on their way but Connie’s mind was full of unanswered questions. They travelled east chatting about their various jobs and the things they had been doing since they’d last met. As they pulled up outside the pick-up point a dog barked and jumped up at the car, his tongue lolling.

  ‘What the …’ Roger began.

  ‘Oh, it’s Pip!’ cried Connie. ‘He must have come down to see Mandy off.’

  She opened the door and Pip scrambled in, greeting Connie in his usual exuberant way, his wagging tail swinging Roger across his face. ‘Hey, old fella,’ he laughed. ‘Get that tail into the back seat, will you?’

  ‘Looks like we’ve missed the coach,’ said Connie, looking around.

  ‘Do you still want to go?’ asked Roger.

  ‘I did promise to help,’ said Connie. ‘Jane doesn’t have that many helpers.’

  ‘Then tell me where to go,’ said Roger, starting the car again.

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Connie. ‘A Sunday school outing is hardly a man’s idea of fun.’

  ‘Believe me,’ said Roger. ‘Right now a Sunday school outing is right at the top of my 100 things to do before I die list.’ And laughing, they set off for High Salvington.

  As soon as the children were off the coach, the driver turned his vehicle and sped away. Jane organised everybody into a crocodile and they walked the last few yards up the hill and into the meadow. As soon as she gave the word, the children ran freely like calves leaping from their enclosure after the long winter months. Jane watched them jumping and running, shouting and chasing each other and smiled. Even though it was such hard work and she’d be exhausted by the time they all went home, to see them as happy as this made it all worthwhile. They had such energy, such a joy of life and up here in the late summer sunshine, they were carefree and happy and it didn’t matter how much noise they made.

  Jane blew her whistle and called everybody together.

  Once the groans and complaints had died down, she laid down some ground rules. ‘In a minute,’ she told them, ‘we are all going to play rounders but first of all, I have a little competition for you.’ She handed each child a piece of paper. ‘On your paper, you will see a list of things to find. I want the older ones to be with the little ones who can’t read. There is a prize for the people who bring back everything on the list.’ Already some of the children were standing up and ready to go. ‘Wait a minute,’ Jane said firmly. ‘You will find everything you have on the list in this meadow. I do not … I repeat, I do not want anyone to wander off in the woods on their own. Understood?’

  There was a collective, ‘Yes, Miss,’ and the children set off on their treasure hunt.

  Mrs Hawks and Mrs Stevens had found the ideal spot to set up the picnic and Arnold and Graham put up the trestle table. Once Jeanette had the snow white sheet pulled over the bare board, the table already looked grand. She then looked around for some large stones to weigh it down at each corner. Arnold had gone back for the crockery, left in boxes at the side of the narrow lane, while the women returned for the sandwiches. Jane left them to it. It was a well-oiled machine and Mrs Ibbotson who had waited in the lane to make sure nobody pinched anything, soon joined them.

  Jane turned her attention to the children. She enjoyed watching them. Little Patrick Rivers had been ill most of the winter, but now his cheeks had colour in them. Jenny Wright had had a brush with polio and although her legs were not quite back to normal, she was making a valiant attempt to keep up with her big sister. Jack Albert had always been a bit of a loner, but now he had plenty of friends. Jane thought back to the Christmas party when they had been playing hide and seek. She and Jack Albert had been searching for the others. ‘Let’s see if anyone is in the toilet,’ she’d suggested. Jack hurried to look and she’d chuckled when she’d found him lifting the lid and peering into the bowl. Little Elsie Anderson came up to her and gave her a gappy smile. ‘Thank you for inviting me, Mith,’ she lisped and then ran off again.

  Jane sighed happily. Up here on High Salvington, they were as safe as houses and with Arnold by her side, what more could a girl want?

  ‘I know a really good place to find what’s on your list,’ he said, stepping up beside her. ‘Here, take my hand and I’ll show you.’

  Mandy looked up at him trustingly and slipped her hand in his. Her hand fluttered a little in his and he felt his pulse quicken. See? She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He smiled down at her angelic face, loving her pretty blonde curls and the two red ribbons she wore in her hair. He led her away from the others, keeping close to the wooded area, where they could be alone. Gradually, the excited shouts of the other children faded.

  Mandy spotted a bird’s feather and bent to pick it up but he egged her on.

  ‘No, not that one. I know a much better place where you can get loads of them.’

  ‘But Miss Jackson said we shouldn’t go into the woods,’ Mandy protested mildly.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said soothingly. ‘She said don’t go alone, didn’t she? Well, you’re not alone. You’re with me. I’ll keep you safe. Besides, Miss Jackson knows where we are. She knows where the best bird feathers are.’ She looked up at him trustingly and he stroked her lovely blonde curls. One of her ribbons came off in his hand. ‘Whoops,’ he laughed. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘I want to go back now,’ she said but he wasn’t listening. What a pity they’d cut her hair short but the red ribbons on either side of her head had made her attractive. No, he decided, she’d look even prettier with it long. He could feel himself harden. Just a little further and then she’d be his. ‘Shall I tickle you and make you laugh?’

  He tickled her neck and Mandy giggled.

  ‘Shall I? I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.’ The child did her best to wriggle from his grip but he held on tight. He tickled her under her arms and down her body and she laughed. She enjoyed it.

  ‘I’ve got something to show you,’ he said, his voice tight with the thrill of it. ‘I’ve got a little friend I want you meet down here.’ She stared at the button on his trousers where he was pointing with a puzzled expression. ‘Would you like to meet him?’

  He could feel her tugging at his hand again and smiled. His head was buzzing. His heartbeat speeded up. She was only pretending to pull away. She wanted it too. She was as eager as he was. Keeping a tight grip on her, he unbuttoned his trousers deftly with the other hand.

  ‘You’re hurting me,’ she whimpered.

  ‘Don’t you want to meet my friend? Come with me and I’ll show you. His name is Mr Charles.’

&nb
sp; Connie and Roger parked in the lane. It narrowed to the point where the ground was too soft for vehicles. Pip leapt out barking joyfully and began his sniff and mark routine.

  As Connie headed towards the hill, Roger caught her arm. ‘I owe you an explanation, Connie,’ he said. ‘I’ve been avoiding you.’

  ‘I had noticed,’ Connie laughed nervously and her throat tightened. Oh, now he was going to say he didn’t want to see her again. She glanced at his firm jawline. Please give us one more chance? she said in her head. I’ve missed you, Roger. You’ve been a real friend to me and I need you even more now Mum and Clifford are leaving me.

  ‘I’ve been making difficult decisions,’ he began again.

  Her heart sank a little more. Her mind was racing ahead of him and she wanted to say, Roger, I’ve made a stupid mistake. I shouldn’t have let Eugène make love to me. I let my feelings run away with me. I was unhappy and he was unhappy because he’s just lost the love of his life. You won’t want me now, will you, Roger? Not when you find out I’m damaged goods …

  Roger had pulled her in front of him and was looking directly at her. Connie blushed. Could he see it in her face? What she’d done with Eugène? Did it show, that first time?

  ‘I once told you that I would carry on with my job until such time as I found something I cared for even more.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Well, the time has come to pack it in,’ he said. ‘I can’t keep my mind on the job anymore, Connie. I’m distracted all the time.’

  Connie didn’t know what to say. Was he asking her to talk him out of it? Did he want sympathy? She didn’t think she could do that. She knew he loved what he did but it was dangerous. She couldn’t bear the thought of something awful happening to him even if she never saw him again. How Eva and her mother put up with it all for all these years she never knew.

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said quietly.

 

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