by Anna King
Sometimes Stanley-stopped trying after a few minutes, too tired to exert himself, but other times, like last night, he had gone at her for over half an hour, his actions becoming more urgent and frustrated as he realised that nothing was happening in the lower half of his body. Finally, in a fit of rage, he had summoned up the last of his dwindling strength and kicked her viciously in the back, knocking her out of the bed. Sobbing, she had stayed in the sitting room for the rest of the night, wondering how much more of this kind of treatment and abuse she could stand.
Then, this morning, when she had brought him in his breakfast, he had been all contrition, blaming his illness and the drugs he was taking. But Grace had heard it all before. He had remained in a good mood for the rest of the morning – until Nobby had turned up and suggested a walk over the park with Patrick. The reason for his change of mood was one of two things: either he was jealous of Nobby’s good health and vitality or he had somehow guessed there had been something between Nobby and Grace. And judging by the way he had rushed Grace into marriage, and practically demanded that Nobby be best man, Grace could only assume it was the latter that was eating away at Stanley.
‘Are you listening to me, Grace? I don’t care how ill he is, I’m not gonna stand by and see you treated like that. It’s not right.’
When Grace didn’t answer, Nobby pulled her roughly by the arm, then gasped in alarm as Grace cried out in pain.
‘What is it, love? I didn’t pull you that hard. What’s wrong?’ Then, a wave of suspicion coming over his face, Nobby’s eyes clouded over. ‘Has he been hitting you, Grace? ’Cos if he has, by God, ill or not, I’ll have him. Not with me fists, though I’d be sorely tempted, but I’d let him know what’d happen if—’
‘No, Nobby, stay out of it.’ Grace laid a restraining hand on his arm. ‘He’s my husband, and if there’s any problems, then I’ll work them out, understand? If you try and interfere it’d only make matters worse.’
Looking into the stony eyes, Grace shivered at the ferocity reflected there. Then, without thinking, she sat back on the park bench, and once more let out a yelp as her bruised back came into contact with the hard wooden slats.
Nobby said nothing. He simply turned her around gently and lifted up the back of her blouse, and when he saw the enormous bruise in the centre of her back, a fierce hatred washed over him.
Gritting his teeth he growled, ‘That’s it, Grace. That’s the last straw. I’ll have him for this, the bastard.’
Her eyes following Patrick as he raced around the park, Grace answered calmly, ‘Don’t be silly, Nobby. There’s nothing you can do. But I can. Tonight I’m going to tell him that if he ever raises a hand to me again, I’ll move back into my own room, and I’ll do it too. No matter what the provocation, I won’t be used as a punchbag. Now, I don’t want to talk about it any more…’
A shadow fell over them, and a vaguely familiar voice said tentatively, ‘Gracie! Is that you?’
Grace, shielding her eyes against the sun, looked up towards the voice, her expression showing no recognition at first. Then she let out a whoop of delight.
‘Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy. You made it back all right. Oh, Lord, but I’ve often worried about you. How are you?… Oh, I’m forgetting my manners.’ Turning to Nobby she exclaimed happily, ‘This is Jimmy Potter, he used to work with me up the City, until we were bombed out. The last time I saw him he was thinking of joining up.’
Nobby stretched out his hand in greeting. ‘Pleased to meet yer, mate. Any one that can bring a smile to Grace’s face is a friend of mine.’
In her excitement Grace forgot the pain in her back and all her other worries, and patted the bench next to her.
‘Well, sit down, Jimmy, we won’t bite,’ she laughed.
Jimmy, grinning from ear to ear at the genuine welcome, sat down, and began to talk about his stint in the army.
‘Cor, I was scared ter death at first, Grace. Not at the training centre, that was a laugh. But when I was shipped overseas and head first into me first battle, Gawd, I thought I’d die of fright, never mind a German bullet. Then we was all charging and shouting our heads off, and firing our rifles, and the next thing I knew we was back in the trench. I couldn’t believe I was still alive. It got a bit easier after that, but it wasn’t the great adventure I thought it’d be. Anyway, it’s all over now, thank Gawd, and I’m back in one piece.’ He nudged Grace’s arm gently, grinning, ‘It must be true what they say about only the good dying young, or I’d be six feet under by now.’
Smiling fondly, Grace let her eyes roam over the young man sitting beside her, dressed in an ill-fitting cheap suit and wearing a hat that was far too big for him, and had to stifle the desire to take him in her arms and cuddle him. She might have done just that if a petulant voice hadn’t suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
‘Thanks fer leaving me and walking off without a word, Jimmy. You might ’ave said yer was going off.’
Jimmy, his face apologetic now, jumped swiftly to his feet, his arm going protectively around the girl’s shoulder.
‘I’m, sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean ter go off like that, it was just that I saw an old friend, an’ I thought I’d wander over and make sure it was her.’ His face taking on a proud expression, Jimmy faced Grace and said sheepishly, ‘This is me fiancée, Hilda. We’re getting married next year. Well, say hello to Grace, love, and her friend.’
The girl’s pretty face remained unconvinced, her mouth busily chewing on a piece of gum.
‘Yeah, well, yer could ’ave said something. So we going now, or what?’
Grace and Nobby exchanged amused glances. Then Nobby, ever the one to smooth over a difficult moment, jumped to his feet and held out his hand to the startled girl.
‘Hello, love. Sorry ter have taken your boyfriend away from you like that, but him and Gracie used ter work together, and they had some catching up to do.’ The handsome face combined with the charming, boyish smile quickly dissolved the girl’s resentment.
Adopting a more pleasant tone she said, ‘Yeah, well, sorry I sounded off like that, I didn’t mean ter be rude.’
‘Think nothing of it, love. I’m Nobby, by the way, and this is Grace.’
The girl simpered. ‘Pleased ter meet yer, I’m sure. Me and Jimmy was just gonna go and listen ter the band play. Would yer like ter come with us?’
Grace watched with amusement at the open admiration in the young girl’s eyes. Poor Jimmy, he’d have to watch out if he was serious about marrying the girl. She seemed to be a bit of a flirt. Still! She was young yet; maybe she’d change as she got older. Grace hoped so for Jimmy’s sake.
A loud wail brought Grace to her feet, and there, running towards her, his arms outstretched, was Patrick.
‘I felled over, Auntie Grace. I hurted me knee,’ the youngster informed his worried aunt.
Lifting him on to her lap, Grace examined the slight injury and said breezily, ‘It’s not too bad, love. But I think we’d better get you home and give it a bit of a wash and put some ointment on it, OK?’
Glad of the excuse to get out of accompanying Jimmy and Hilda to the bandstand, they all shook hands and said their goodbyes, but not before Grace had given Jimmy an affectionate hug.
‘I’m so glad we bumped into Jimmy. He was only seventeen when I last saw him, and couldn’t wait for his eighteenth birthday so he could join up. I’ve often wondered if he made it through, and now I know.’
Beside her, Nobby gave a short laugh.
‘He may have made it through the war, but by the looks of his intended, he’ll have a few more battles to put up with in his lifetime.’
They were nearly home before Nobby tried to bring up the subject of Stanley once more, but Grace quickly forestalled him.
‘I nearly forgot. Polly’s enrolled in a nursing training college. That is, she’s applied and taken a written test. She’s just waiting to see if she’s been accepted.’
‘Poll! Our Polly, a nurse. Good Lord! Whatever put tha
t idea into her head?’ Nobby asked in amazement.
‘I think she’s been debating about it since Stanley came home. She’s been so good with him, I mean helping him to wash and shave, and sitting with him whenever she gets the chance. I don’t know how I’d have managed without her, honestly I don’t. Not with Nan still not fully recovered, and not able to lift anything heavy, and Vi locked away in her room like the princess in the tower. I’d have gone mental if I’d had to see to him all by myself.’ They were just entering the house, so Grace lowered her voice slightly. ‘She even helps me clean and medicate his bed sores, and that from a girl who used to practically faint at the sight of a bit of blood. So if you want my opinion, I think she’d make a damn fine nurse, because, apart from everything else, Polly has compassion, and plenty of it, and that’s essential for a good nurse.’
‘Bloody hell, I thought you’d never get home.’ Aggie, hobbling slowly towards them, her face alight with excitement, whispered. ‘We’ve got a visitor. You’ll never guess who… Well, come on then, and see who it is, the pair of you.’
Nobby and Grace, raising their eyebrows at one another, followed Aggie down the hall and into the sitting room. For the second time that afternoon Grace gave a cry of joy, and rushed towards the man sitting awkwardly on the edge of the armchair.
‘Chris! How wonderful to see you. Does Vi know you’re here? Oh, that’ll cheer her up seeing you.’
Chris Green stood up to greet her, his face taking on a doubtful expression.
‘I don’t know about that, Grace… Oh, hello there, Nobby,’ he added as the dark-haired man entered the room carrying Patrick, who immediately squirmed down from his arms and ran to his nan to tell her about his injury.
With Aggie preoccupied, Chris turned a sceptical look at the couple.
‘To tell the truth, I’m dreading seeing Vi after what your nan’s been telling me. According to Aggie, Vi won’t see anyone except the family.’ Directing an appealing glance at Grace he asked hesitantly, ‘Would you come up with me, Grace? Sort of prepare the way, so to speak.’
Grace looked to her nan for support but found Aggie studiously examining the superficial cut on Patrick’s knee, and she felt her stomach lurch. Despite her previous words to Chris, Grace knew there was no chance Vi would allow him to see her as she was now. The doctors had done all they could to repair Vi’s face, a process that had taken place over many agonising months, but on her last visit to the hospital, driven to the front entrance by cab with her face covered by a black net veil, they had told her as kindly as possible that there was nothing more they could do. In fact Vi’s face, although still scarred, was ten times better than when she had first been admitted into hospital, but Vi didn’t see it that way, and who could blame her, poor cow?
Her stomach fluttering in nervous agitation, Grace led the way up the stairs, with Chris, apprehensive about seeing Vi after all this time, hanging back. That is, of course, if Vi agreed to see him.
Pausing outside Vi’s room, Grace thought, Lord, what with last night, and Nobby’s anger when he discovered what Stanley had done, then meeting up with Jimmy, it’s been a day and half so far – and it isn’t over yet…
Grace entered the room. Vi, who was sitting in the armchair by the side of the bed reading a book, smiled when she saw her sister, a smile that soon vanished when she heard the reason for Grace’s visit.
‘NO! NO! Never! Do you hear me, Grace? How could you do this to me, knowing how I feel about people seeing me in this state? And Chris of all people.’ Uttering a mirthless laugh she said bitterly, ‘I suppose he’s come to gloat over what happened after the way I treated him, and maybe I deserve it. What’s that old saying, Grace? “How are the mighty fallen”? Lord! I think that would be an apt description for me, don’t you?’
Pity rose in Grace’s throat at the anguish in Vi’s voice, then both women jumped as a voice from behind them said softly, ‘Not as far as I’m concerned, Vi.’
There in the doorway stood Chris, his attractive face solemn as he looked directly at Vi’s face before she had the chance to cover her scars with her hands.
‘Would you mind leaving us, Grace? Vi and me have a lot of talking to do.’
Instantly Vi let out a wail of panic.
‘No! Grace, please, don’t leave.’
But for once Grace ignored her sister’s request and shut the door gently behind her, praying that she had done the right thing in allowing Chris into Vi’s room. Hesitating, she waited outside the closed door for a few minutes, ready to rush back in if Vi became hysterical, but all she heard was a low sobbing and Chris’s gentle, soothing voice.
Feeling a bit better, Grace returned downstairs, wishing she were a fly on the wall so she could listen in on the conversation that was taking place.
* * *
For the first ten minutes Vi cried ceaselessly, while Chris sat on the edge of the bed and waited patiently for her to compose herself. He couldn’t see her face now, as she had her head bowed, embarrassed and humiliated at having this man she had treated so contemptuously seeing her in her sorry plight.
Then, the strength of character Vi had always possessed came to the fore, and, drying her tears, she lifted her head and said defiantly, ‘Well, go on then, have a good look. You must be laughing your head off remembering all the times I gave you the brush off, whereas now you wouldn’t have me if I paid you, would you? So now you’ve seen what you came to see, you can go.’
Chris had remained silent throughout the tirade. Now he smiled fondly and came to kneel by her side. Taking her trembling hands in his, he said tenderly, ‘You don’t understand, Vi, you never have. I love you, and I always will. I don’t care about your face, it’s what’s inside you that counts.’
‘Oh, yes, I’m a model of virtue and compassion,’ Vi spat back sarcastically.
Shifting his position slightly to make himself more comfortable, Chris answered softly, ‘Tell me, Vi, how was it Beryl got away safely and you got caught in the bombing? Because from what Aggie was telling me, you were both in the taxi heading for the station when the rockets appeared. So how was it you ended up back here in the street?’
Vi’s chin wobbled, her throat filling with emotion as she recalled that dreadful day for the hundredth time. Too choked to speak, she tried to lower her head, but Chris gently placed his fingertips under her chin and lifted her face to his.
‘The reason you got caught in the raid was because, unlike Beryl, you were worried about the safety of your family and came running back to see if they were all right. Now if that isn’t a sign of a person of virtue and compassion, then I don’t know what is.’
They were staring into each other’s eyes, and what Vi saw reflected in Chris’s gaze gave her new hope. Instead of revulsion or pity, all she could see was love shining from Chris’s eyes. The sudden revelation that this man truly loved her was nearly Vi’s undoing. She wanted to cry and wail, but found she no longer felt the need to wallow in self-pity.
Through misty eyes she whispered hoarsely, ‘Oh, Chris. I don’t deserve you. Not after the way I treated you. I…’
A fingertip came out and covered her lips.
‘That’s all in the past now, Vi. It’s the future we have to look forward to… Hang on, don’t interrupt,’ he said firmly as Vi made to protest. ‘In all the time we’ve known each other we’ve never really talked, have we, not properly. So now I’ll tell you the reason I came to see you. Firstly, to see if there was any hope for me, and secondly, to tell you I might be able to help you. I never told you before, because the subject never came up, that my father is a plastic surgeon. Oh, not the type that treats old biddies who want a few wrinkles removed, but a medical plastic surgeon. He operated on hundreds of men during the first war, men who had been badly burnt or disfigured, and he’s still working now, patching up the poor devils who received the same kind of injuries in this war. Anyway, Vi, what I’m trying to say is, would you be willing to see my father? He runs a hospital for burns pat
ients in Essex. I’ve already spoken to him and he’s agreed to see you to see if he can help.’
As Vi listened intently to what Chris was telling her, her hopes began to rise. She had imagined her life would be spent in this room until the day she died, and now there was a chance her face might be restored to its former self.
Chris quickly noticed the rising hope racing through Vi’s body, and he held up his hand, saying gently, ‘Look, Vi. I’m not offering any guarantees. My father’s good, in fact he’s the best in his field, but he’s not God. There’s no use me taking you to see him if you’re expecting him to perform some kind of miracle. If you come with me, it has to be on the condition that you go with an open mind, and are prepared to accept it if you’re told there’s nothing he can do that the other doctors haven’t already tried. If anyone can help you, then my father can, but as I’ve already said, you have to be prepared not to let your expectations run too high, otherwise I won’t have done you any favours by giving you false hope.’