A Mother’s Sacrifice

by Kitty Neale

  The nurse gave Polly a lovely warm smile and turned to walk away. ‘Wait,’ Polly managed to call, ‘please, can you tell me what happened?’

  ‘You were involved in an accident, but for now no more talking. You must rest, so close your eyes and try to sleep.’

  ‘Please, I can’t rest until I know what has happened to my parents. Where are they?’ Polly asked, becoming increasingly distressed and trying to sit up in the bed. Her injuries prevented her from getting very far.

  ‘Now, now, calm down,’ said the nurse soothingly as she gently pushed back on Polly’s shoulders. ‘I’ll tell you what I can. You were caught up in a gas explosion and were rescued from under a pile of rubble by the fire brigade. From what I know, I think a heavy-topped table saved your life. As for your parents, I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything. The ambulances are still bringing people in and not everyone has been identified yet. I’m sure the police will be around to talk to you soon and they will want you and your parents’ details. In the meantime, please try to stay calm and rest. You’re in good hands here.’

  Polly closed her eyes, but how could she rest when she didn’t even know where her parents were or whether they were injured? Tears stung her eyes. Everything ached and her throat was sore, but she was so desperate to see them that all she could think about was her mother and father.

  An orderly dropped a metal tray of instruments and the loud clatter echoed through the ward. The sudden noise made Polly jump and for a moment she was back in the café, screaming as the explosion ripped through the building.

  ‘It’s OK, it’s all right,’ the nurse soothed. ‘You’re safe now. It was just someone dropping a tray.’

  Polly realised that even with her hoarse throat she had been screaming uncontrollably and abruptly stopped, though she was shaking in panic.

  ‘Take a few deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, that’s it.’

  She was glad to listen to the nurse’s calming voice and followed her instructions, but once her nerves had settled again, her first thought was for her parents. ‘Please, nurse, can you ask a policeman to come and see me now? I need to know where my parents are,’ she begged.

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ the nurse promised.

  The minutes ticking by felt like hours, but at last Polly was relieved to see two uniformed officers approaching her bed.

  ‘Good evening, Miss. This is PC Whitton and I’m Sergeant Trent. Can you confirm that you are Polly Myers? We found a library card in a small bag close to where you were rescued.’

  The sergeant with his grey hair and broad shoulders looked a lot older than her dad, and he had an air of confidence, unlike the PC who looked almost as young as she did with his baby blond hair and soft blue eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘I’m Polly Myers, but please, can you tell me where my parents are? My mum’s name is Glenda and my dad is Frank Myers.’

  ‘Were you visiting Nancy’s café with your parents, Miss Myers?’

  ‘Yes, we got the train up from Kent. Mum and Dad had just gone to the toilets when there was an explosion and I haven’t seen them since. Please, are they all right?’

  Polly noticed a look pass between the two policemen and then the older one said, ‘Can you describe to me what your parents were wearing?’

  ‘What they were wearing?’ Polly asked confused. She thought that was a strange question but then if they had been knocked out by the blast, maybe they hadn’t been identified yet. ‘My mum had a long purple coat on with a gold and pearl butterfly brooch on the lapel, and my dad was wearing his work coat – a long black one that he wears when he’s on the buses. He’s a bus conductor. Oh, and a trilby, he never goes anywhere without his old trilby hat. Do you know where they are? What’s happened to them?’

  There was a pause. The sergeant’s expression was grave. ‘I’m very sorry, Miss Myers,’ he said, ‘but I have some bad news for you.’

  Polly felt bile rise in her throat and cried, ‘No, please, don’t say what I think you’re going to say! Don’t tell me they’re dead.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid the bodies of Frank Myers and Glenda Myers have been recovered from the scene of the accident and yes, they are both dead.’

  ‘No,’ Polly screamed, ‘no, you’re wrong, it isn’t them. They can’t be dead, they just can’t be … you’ve made a mistake, you’ve got the wrong people. They’ll be out there looking for me, they’ll be worrying about where I am. I have to let them know I’m all right,’ she gabbled, ripping furiously at the IV drip in her arm in her determination to get out of the bed and find her parents.

  The sergeant turned to his younger colleague. ‘Quickly, get a nurse,’ he ordered as he tried to stop Polly from removing her IV. ‘Miss, please, stop this. You can’t go anywhere. Look, your leg is in bandages and I doubt you can walk.’

  The plump dark-haired nurse was back at Polly’s bedside and in a kind but commanding manner she instructed Polly to calm down.

  ‘He said my parents are dead! Please, nurse, tell him he’s made a mistake … please, tell him …’ Sobs racked Polly’s body as she bawled her heart out. ‘They’re not dead, they can’t be. Please …’

  Chapter 20

  Jackie Benton drained the last dregs of her tea and sighed heavily before leaving the staff room to resume her night shift on the ward. It had been a long night and she had two more hours to go before she could go home. There she would find her daughter, Katy, probably singing happily in the bathroom, and her son, Ross, moaning that Katy was taking too long and he would be late for work.

  Oh, the joys of family life! But then the thought of that poor girl in bed number nine crossed her mind. Polly Myers had no family. She had been in hospital now for over two weeks and not a single visitor had been to see her. It was no wonder Jackie’s feet were throbbing: she had been up and down most of the night comforting Polly, who was suffering from nightmares and pining for her parents.

  No, thought Jackie, even though no doubt there’d be a sink full of washing-up waiting for her, she wouldn’t moan. She was grateful for her family and, having seen so much death on the wards, she knew there were people far worse off than her. She had to admit, though, it was hard work being a full-time nurse with two grown children still at home. But what choice did she have? Not a lot; her husband had run off with his much younger secretary and now contributed precisely nothing to the household.

  Jackie passed a long window and checked her reflection. Her uniform was pristine but it clung to her rather large curves, pulling across her heavy bosom. Her dark-brown hair was short with tight curls that her husband once said reminded him of a poodle. She also had bingo wings that wobbled when she walked, so maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised that her husband’s head had turned. With two children to raise and countless foster kids from troubled backgrounds, it was little wonder that she hadn’t found time for herself.

  Dismissing her thoughts, Jackie marched onto the ward and was immediately drawn to Polly’s bed. The girl was hiding under her sheets and from the little movements Jackie guessed she was sobbing again. The tea trolley was making its way round so the thoughtful nurse took a cup and went over to Polly.

  ‘Good morning, dear, I’ve got a nice cuppa here for you. Are you awake under there?’

  She heard Polly sniff.

  ‘Come on, Polly, all this upset won’t do. I know you can hear me so pull them covers back, sit up and drink this tea.’

  Polly slowly emerged from under the sheets; her red-rimmed eyes were swollen and her nose all snotty.

  ‘Here you are.’ Jackie offered Polly a tissue. ‘Blow your nose. I know you miss your mum and dad but, as harsh as it sounds, you can’t bring them back and they wouldn’t want to see you like this now, would they?’

  Polly shook her head.

  ‘So come on, then, I know it must have been awful for you spending Christmas in hospital, but you may be allowed to go home soon.’

  ‘No, no, I can’t face goin
g home to that empty house. I’ve no family now, or any real friends. It was always just me, Mum and Dad. And I’m so scared. I mean, I haven’t got the first clue of how to run a home, you know, pay bills and stuff. My parents did all that. Oh, nurse, what can I do?’

  Polly began sobbing again and Jackie held her tight to her soft chest. It broke her own heart to see this young woman in so much pain and anguish. She was about the same age as her Katy and she wondered if her daughter would cope if she too was in Polly’s position. No doubt Katy would struggle, but at least she had her own friends and an extended family, which was a lot more than Polly had. The poor girl had no one.

  That’s when Jackie’s mind was made up. She had been thinking about it for a few days and could see no reason why she couldn’t do it. She had fostered before and though she had stopped a few years back when her husband left, there was nothing to prevent her offering Polly a home. The girl was in such a bad state and, though she was too old to be fostered, Jackie could suggest that she moved in with her and her family.

  ‘You’ll be out of here in a few days, so what do you think?’ Jackie Benton said, beaming.

  Polly’s mind was blank after Jackie had finished telling her about the idea of moving in. She just looked back at the kind nurse and thought that with her big, rosy cheeks, fuller figure and nurse’s uniform, Jackie looked just like Hattie Jacques from Carry on Nurse. For the first time since losing her parents, she began to laugh, and the more surprised Jackie looked, the more it made Polly giggle. ‘I’m sorry, Nurse Benton, it’s just you remind me of a very funny film that I watched with my dad.’

  ‘Oh, do I now? And what film was that?’ asked Jackie.

  Polly didn’t want to be rude or insult the nurse and thought that maybe a comparison to Hattie Jacques would upset her. ‘I can’t remember the name of it, but it was really funny,’ Polly lied.

  ‘Well, I’m surprised you didn’t say it was a Carry On film. It’s what I usually get told. If I had a penny for every person who said that I look like Hattie Jacques, I would be a very wealthy woman!’

  ‘Yes, that’s the one!’ Polly spluttered. ‘But of course, you’re much better looking.’

  ‘Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me,’ Jackie said, smiling. ‘Anyway, you haven’t answered my question. What do you think?’

  Polly was quite taken aback by Jackie’s generous offer and she had to admit, it did sound very appealing. She felt so alone, and she had dreaded going home to an empty house.

  So she said, ‘If you’re really sure, then yes, please, I’d love to come and stay with you.’

  ‘That’s settled then,’ Jackie said, looking chuffed that Polly had accepted her invitation. ‘I’ll get your room ready. I’m afraid it’s a bit small, but I’m sure you’ll find it comfortable enough. And just wait ’til you meet my Katy. I think the pair of you will get on like a house on fire.’

  Polly was really looking forward to meeting Katy; Jackie had told her that she worked as a hairdresser and loved to dance. She’d never had a real girlfriend of her own age, and Jackie had said that there might be a job going in the salon where Katy worked. It wouldn’t be much, just washing hair and sweeping up, menial things, but at least it would mean that she could offer to pay Jackie for her keep. It would be very different from the sort of work she did at Oak Farm. She loved being outside in the fresh air, mucking out stables, feeding cattle and milking cows, but it was a tough job, especially in the winter. Maybe a change would be good, she thought, looking forward to the experience.

  It still pained her to think of her parents’ house, but it was safe and sound, locked up for now, and Jackie said she would help her arrange for the bills to be paid using the savings that her parents had left. Luckily, Mrs Stewart next door had a spare set of keys to the house so Polly decided she would write to her, explaining where she was and what had happened, and ask if she would be kind enough to throw out any food and keep an eye on the place until Polly felt strong enough to return. She was sure Mrs Stewart would oblige as she was a bit of a nosy old bag and it would give her the opportunity to have a mooch around the house. With no idea when she’d be going back to the village, Polly knew she’d have to write to Oak Farm too to tell them that she wouldn’t be returning to work.

  At first Polly had thought that maybe she should go back to collect some clothes, but she couldn’t face it yet – couldn’t walk into the home that would hold so many memories. Jackie had been understanding and suggested that she use a little more of the savings to buy new clothes for now.

  It was thanks to Jackie that Polly slept better that night, feeling less alone in the world. What the kind woman had said played over in her mind: the last thing her parents would want was to see her grieving. Her heart still ached, though, but she held her pain in and tried to concentrate on the new life she was about to embark on.

  Chapter 21

  As they approached the chapel Polly knew she would be forever grateful to the wonderfully kind nurse. Jackie had done so much for her, helping her to claim the life insurance policy, which had been more than enough to cover the expense of the funeral. The service had been delayed until she was able to attend, and was such a sad affair: a cremation with just Jackie by her side. To Polly’s surprise Jackie had a car, and had driven them to the small chapel.

  Polly hadn’t expected to see anyone else there. Her parents had always been a close unit and seemed to enjoy each other’s company. They had a few friends in the village but no one they were particularly close to. It was clear to Polly that she was very much alone now, so she was all the more grateful for Jackie’s offer. She had sobbed while Jackie held her, and now that it was over they stood outside the white front door of Jackie’s three-bedroom semi-detached house just outside Croydon.

  ‘Here you go, Polly, the front-door key to your new home. Go on then, open the door,’ Jackie said as she handed Polly the key.

  Polly took a deep breath and did as instructed. It had already been a traumatic day and she was feeling a little anxious about meeting Katy and Ross, but her fears subsided as a vivacious, auburn-haired young woman in a black and white minidress bounded towards her and gave her a massive hug.

  ‘You must be Polly,’ Katy said, beaming. ‘I’m so glad to meet you and even more pleased that you’re coming to stay with us. Mum has told me all about you. My best friend Isobel has just emigrated to Australia so I’ve been feeling ever so lonesome, but now you’re here we can do so much together! Do you prefer the Beatles or the Rolling Stones? I’ve got an LP player in my room, we can listen to records and I’ll show you how to do the latest dances, like the mashed potato and as I’ve got some colours from the salon, how about we do your hair?’

  ‘Slow down, Katy,’ Jackie admonished, laughing, ‘let the girl get through the door. Where’s your brother, up in his room again? Run up and get him, tell him Polly’s here.’

  ‘I did already, Mum. I saw you coming down the street so I told him to come down but he won’t, you know what he’s like.’

  ‘Yes, I do, and I didn’t bring him up to be so rude.’ Jackie walked to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Ross,’ she shouted up, ‘where are your manners? Come down here please, NOW!’

  Polly smiled awkwardly at Katy. Jackie had a good pair of lungs on her and though she had shown nothing but compassion towards her, Polly could imagine that she was quite a woman to come up against.

  Ross trudged down the stairs and offered a reluctant greeting to Polly. She was surprised at how lean he was, with a mop of unruly ginger hair that flopped over one lens of his black-rimmed National Health glasses. Katy was fashionable, attractive and bubbly, but Ross appeared to be very different from his sister. She seemed to remember Jackie telling her that he worked in an accounts office and the first thing that came into Polly’s mind was that he might be a bit of a nerd. She inwardly reprimanded herself, thinking how uncharitable she was being, especially as the Bentons had opened their home up to her.

  ‘Nice to meet y
ou, Ross,’ Polly said as she held out her hand to shake his, but Ross ignored the offer and sloped off to the kitchen.

  ‘Please excuse my son,’ Jackie groaned in a whisper, ‘he acts like a teenager even though he’s twenty-two. Trouble is, he’s too much like his father. Katy, I’ll leave you to show Polly to her room and give her the guided tour of the house.’

  Polly liked her room. The wallpaper had a white background with pretty pink roses and there was a lilac bedspread, along with lace doilies on the dressing table. When she looked down on the garden from the window, she was disappointed to see it was all concreted. She would miss handling plants and growing things, but still, she reasoned, with working in the salon and Katy already talking about what bands they would be going to see, she guessed there wouldn’t be much time left for gardening.

  She laid her head back on her pillow and tried to dismiss the images floating in her mind of her mum and dad. Her heart ached. Would she always miss them this much? Would it always hurt whenever she pictured them? Jackie had said that time was a great healer and that eventually the pain would lessen, but right now it still felt all-consuming. Turning to face the wall, Polly gently began to cry.

  There was a soft tapping on the door and soon afterwards Polly felt Katy climb onto the bed beside her and gently stroke her hair.

  ‘You must miss your parents terribly,’ Katy said. ‘It must be awful being an orphan. I can’t imagine losing my mum, she’s like my best friend. I miss my dad, and he doesn’t keep in touch, but at least I know he’s alive.’

  Polly sniffed and tried to stem her tears, but found it impossible. ‘I–I’m sorry, I can’t seem to stop crying. I hadn’t thought of myself as an orphan, but yes, I suppose I am now.’