by Dilly Court
‘When did you say you were leaving?’
‘First thing in the morning, and I’m not sure exactly where we’re headed for.’
She stared down at their intertwined fingers. His were tanned and square-tipped: practical hands, the hands of a surgeon. Hers were small, rough and reddened after a day of hard work, but she felt the warmth of his grasp seeping through her veins to warm her chilled heart. She raised her head to look into his eyes and as if drawn together by a magnet their lips met. He wrapped his arms around her and she relaxed against him, parting her lips and returning his kiss with unashamed passion. This was their world and they were the only two inhabitants. Nothing and no one mattered outside the close embrace that made them as one, but suddenly it was over.
She was cold and shivering as the breeze picked up, whipping strands of hair across her face and cooling her hot cheeks. Nick held her at arms’ length, his mouth drawn into a thin line of pain. ‘I’ll drive you home.’
She felt for the handle and thrust the door open. ‘No. I’ll walk. I need time on my own. Goodbye, Nick.’
He caught her by the arm. ‘You’ve had a tough day. Let me drop you at the pub, Ginnie. I won’t come in.’
Her breath hitched in her throat. ‘I can’t do this. Leave me a shred of pride.’ Wrenching free from his grasp she leapt from the jeep and walked away, keeping her gaze on the road ahead and resisting the temptation to look back. She knew that once again he was watching her walk away but this time it was final. It was not until she reached the bridge over the river that she heard the faint murmur of the jeep’s engine. She hesitated with her hands clutching the parapet and allowed herself to look round in time to see the rear end of the military vehicle disappearing into the distance.
She walked on in a daze, turning the corner and following the river upstream in the direction of the Ferryboat Inn. The dark water of the millpond was eerily still and its glassy surface mirrored the overhanging trees. The mill house was unusually silent, its grindstones waiting in readiness to turn the harvested wheat into flour, and cattle grazed peacefully in the adjacent fields, oblivious to anything but their physical needs. A high brick wall on the far side of the lane kept intruders from trespassing on the squire’s land, and further along she could see the gatekeeper’s wife tending to her tiny vegetable plot. They exchanged polite greetings but Ginnie was in no mood to stop and chat. She slowed her pace as the pub came into view, bracing herself for a barrage of questions from Avril and Shirley, but she could not muster enough courage to face them.
She went to sit on the riverbank, gazing into the fast-flowing water, and she felt nothing. All her senses were numbed by grief and anger, but her rage was directed at herself rather than Nick. She had allowed him into her heart for a second time and that had been a big mistake.
‘This is a good place to sit and contemplate, I always find.’
She looked round with a start and saw the friendly face of Lionel Smithers smiling down at her. ‘I didn’t hear you coming, vicar.’
He squatted down beside her. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump, but you looked as though you might need a friend.’
She concentrated her attention on a single blade of grass. If she mentioned Nick’s name it would all spill out in a tsunami of emotion. ‘I was just thinking.’
‘May I join you for a while? The pub isn’t open yet and I rather fancied a drop of something cheering before I took my confirmation class. I’m afraid the three girls and a boy are more interested in receiving chewing gum and the occasional chocolate bar from the American soldiers than they are in nourishing their souls.’ He sat down, stretching out his long legs. ‘Perhaps this was a mistake; I’ll have a terrible job getting to my feet again. That’s the trouble with growing older, Ginnie. One doesn’t realise one’s limitation until one tries to act like a young person.’
His wry grimace brought a smile to her face. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll help you up at opening time.’
‘Avril will tell me that I’m a silly old fool if she sees me from her window,’ Lionel said, chuckling. ‘Your aunt is an amazing woman. She’s run this place single-handed since Esmond died, and I’ve never heard her complain about her lot.’
‘Yes,’ Ginnie said slowly. ‘I suppose she is, but I’ve never given it much thought, and I don’t really remember Uncle Esmond.’
‘You must have been very young when he succumbed to his illness, and you live in London. It’s a long way from Lightwood Common.’
‘Auntie Avril always seems so capable. It never occurred to me that she might be struggling.’
‘Even strong people need a little help now and then.’ Lionel gave her a searching look. ‘And you are in that position now, unless I’m mistaken.’
‘Is it so obvious?’
‘I rather think it might have to do with a certain young American officer. You two have been getting on rather well, I think.’
‘He’s leaving for France tomorrow. I’ll never see him again.’ The words tumbled out before she could stop herself.
‘But you mustn’t think like that, my dear. The war in Europe is almost over and he will return.’
‘It’s not that simple.’ She hesitated. ‘He’s engaged to someone back home in the States. It’s all over between us.’
He laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry, Ginnie. These things happen, particularly in wartime. I won’t insult you by telling you that you’re very young and that time will heal, but what I will say is that if this young man’s feelings for you are genuine he’ll find a way to solve the dilemma without giving his fiancée too much pain. She might even have found someone else in his absence.’ He scrambled somewhat awkwardly to his knees, grimacing with pain. ‘Rheumaticky joints, my dear. Would you?’
‘Of course.’ She stood up and helped him to his feet. ‘Thank you for listening.’
‘That’s my job, Ginnie. But also I have great sympathy for young people in your position. I hope it works out well for you.’
‘You won’t mention this conversation to my aunt or my sister, will you, vicar? I mean, they know what happened between me and Nick, but I don’t think I could stand a cross-examination this evening.’
‘The riverbank is as good as a confessional, even though that belongs to the other department, so to speak. I would never betray a confidence, Ginnie.’ He stretched and groaned. ‘But I must remember not to sit on damp grass again. Now I really could do with a drop of Scotch and I can salve my conscience by telling myself that it’s purely medicinal.’
They walked the short distance to the pub and arrived just as Avril was opening up. She greeted them with a smile. ‘My two favourite people and you’ve beaten Percy to it, thank goodness. One day I’ll really have to tell him about his personal hygiene problem. Come in and have a drink, Ginnie. Never mind the law; you look as though you could do with a snifter. Have they been working you too hard, darling?’
The work did not get easier, but Ginnie grew accustomed to it and with Nick out of the picture Helga seemed to have lost interest in her, or maybe she simply grew tired of trying to catch her out. Ginnie fell into a routine at the hospital and with encouragement from Meriel she made friends with the other girls, some of whom had at first viewed her with suspicion. In the beginning her London accent had set her apart and some of them seemed to think that she was too grand to stoop to menial work, but when Ginnie continued to be given the worst tasks and carried them out to the best of her ability, she gradually overcame their prejudices and earned their friendship. She was no longer that ‘posh girl from London’ – she was just Ginnie, the girl from the pub.
In the evenings, she served in the bar or waited on tables in the tiny dining room, and although she chatted amicably to all the customers, including the officers from the camp and the hospital, she made it clear that she was not interested in dating. Shirley and Tony had become increasingly close, although she insisted that there was nothing romantic going on between them. Ginnie suspected th
at for Tony this was not the case, but at least he knew the score and if he was happy to date a woman carrying another man’s child that was his business. Even so, she feared that someone was going to get hurt, and she did not wish that sort of pain on anyone, but she kept her feelings to herself. She had not heard from Nick, and she was too proud to ask Tony or Danny if they had any news of him. She did her best to put him out of her mind but he remained stubbornly in her heart.
Autumn drifted into winter and November lived up to its reputation of being cold and gloomy. One evening at the beginning of December Shirley was waiting for her when she arrived home from work and she pounced. ‘Tony’s asked me to go to the pictures tonight; perhaps you’d like to come too.’
‘Why are you asking me?’ Ginnie was tired, cold and longing for a cup of tea. ‘You don’t usually.’
‘Because Avril thinks I’m too close to my time to go out and about, but she’ll stop moaning if you go with me, since you’re as good as a nurse now.’
‘Shirley, I scrub floors and empty bedpans. That doesn’t qualify me to deliver a baby.’
‘It would do you good to get away from here for an evening. It’s no good moping around,’ Shirley told her severely. ‘Nick’s gone and anyway he’s engaged to that wretched girl in LA, so he wasn’t serious about you, Ginnie.’
‘I know, and I’m trying to move on. I am, really.’
‘That’s the spirit.’ Shirley gave her a hug. ‘This is really difficult when I’ve got a huge bump, but I feel for you, old thing. You’re not like me: you bottle things up – I let it all out.’
‘I’ll never see him again,’ Ginnie said sadly.
‘I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you.’ Shirley brushed her cheek with a casual kiss. ‘But are you sure you won’t come to the flicks with us? It’s Best Foot Forward with Lucille Ball and June Allyson. It’s a musical and it should be fun.’
‘Thanks, but I’m not in the mood. You go out and enjoy yourself while you can.’
‘I don’t intend to let the baby stop me having a good time, Ginnie. It’ll have a lovely auntie and a superb great-auntie. I expect you two will be falling over each other to babysit.’
‘Don’t count on it, darling,’ Avril said, popping her head round the door. ‘Are you going to help me or not, Ginnie? We’ve just been invaded by some rather dashing American officers. I need you now.’
‘Go out and have a good time.’ Ginnie picked up her sister’s handbag and gasmask case and thrust them at her. ‘Tell me all about it when you get home.’
‘Tony’s waiting for you,’ Avril said, beckoning. ‘Hurry up, child, or you’ll miss the start of the movie.’
Shirley breezed into the bar and Ginnie followed her more slowly.
It was a hectic Saturday evening. Keeping busy was the best medicine and Ginnie forgot her tiredness and aching limbs as she served customers and put on a cheerful face, chatting and laughing at their banter.
The call for last orders had just gone out when the sound of the telephone ringing sent Avril hurrying into the kitchen. ‘Who on earth can that be at this time of night?’
Ginnie did not take much notice, thinking it was probably someone looking for a room or one of Avril’s friends who wanted a late evening tête-à-tête. She had just pulled a pint for an American captain when Avril appeared in the doorway, white-faced and trembling. ‘There’s been an accident,’ she murmured. ‘A terrible accident.’
Chapter Five
The corridor at the Royal Salop Infirmary was cold and draughty. Ginnie and Avril sat huddled on a hard wooden bench, waiting for news of Shirley’s condition. Tony was dead. No matter how tactfully the young houseman had tried to convey the terrible news, the shock of his announcement had left them both speechless. A kindly young nurse had brought them cups of tea, sweetened with saccharin, which had left a bitter aftertaste in Ginnie’s mouth, and now she was feeling slightly queasy.
Avril set her cup and saucer down on the floor. ‘I can’t stand this any longer, Ginnie. I’m going to see if I can find someone who’ll tell us what’s going on.’ She half rose to her feet and sank down again at the sound of approaching footsteps, but it was the American major who had been a customer in the bar when the call came through from the hospital who strode towards them, and not one of the medical team. Major Dudley had kindly offered to give them a lift to the hospital in his staff car, confirming Ginnie’s suspicions that he had a soft spot for her aunt. His brow was puckered with concern. ‘I’ve just come from the mortuary. Is there any news of your niece, Mrs Parkin?’
‘No, Major Dudley. Nothing yet.’
He nodded gravely. ‘I’m afraid I have to get back to Lightwood House. I need to make certain arrangements concerning the deceased.’
‘I understand, major. I’m very grateful to you for bringing us here.’ Avril fished in her handbag and brought out a hanky. She dabbed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’
He gave an embarrassed cough. ‘No need to apologise. It’s perfectly understandable in the circumstances, ma’am. May I offer you both a lift home?’
Ginnie shook her head. ‘I can’t leave while my sister’s life hangs in the balance, but perhaps my aunt should go with you.’
‘I’m all right, Ginnie.’ Avril sniffed and tucked her hanky back in her bag. ‘Thank you, major, but I’ll stay here.’
‘Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.’ Major Dudley was about to walk away when a door further along the corridor opened and a young houseman came hurrying towards them.
Ginnie leapt to her feet. ‘How is she, doctor? Is she going to be all right?’
‘She’s in a stable condition, but the foetus is in some distress. We need to operate in order to save the baby’s life, and for that we must have permission from a relative.’
‘I’m her sister.’
‘And I’m her aunt.’ Avril stood up. ‘Perhaps I ought to sign as my niece is underage.’
‘But Shirley will be all right, won’t she?’ Ginnie’s lips were so dry that she could barely frame the words. ‘She’s not going to die.’
‘Everything possible will be done.’ His tired smile reassured her to some extent, but her knees gave way beneath her and she sank down on the seat.
Avril gave her a hug. ‘She’ll pull through, darling. I know she will.’
They waited for almost an hour and a half. Avril was unusually silent and Ginnie stared at her watch, counting off the minutes. The hushed sounds of the hospital at night were like whispers in her head. The dull click of a catch as a door opened was followed by a muted thud as it closed again, and the soft pitter-patter of a nurse’s footsteps on the stone floor was followed by ringing silence. Ginnie had an almost hysterical desire to stand up and scream at the injustice of it all. Just hours ago Tony had been a healthy young man with his whole life ahead of him, and now his corpse was lying in the mortuary, and her sister was fighting for two lives in the operating theatre. Ginnie was not particularly religious but she bowed her head and her lips moved as she prayed for the safe delivery of both Shirley and her unborn child.
Overcome with exhaustion she closed her eyes only to awaken with a start as someone nudged her sharply in the ribs. For a moment she could not remember where she was, or what had brought her to this strange place, but then it all came flooding back.
‘Someone’s coming,’ Avril said urgently. ‘It’s that young doctor.’ She clutched Ginnie’s hand. ‘Oh, God. I can’t bear it. I’ll never forgive myself if that poor girl loses her baby. I should have been firmer and insisted that she stayed at home.’
Ginnie squeezed her aunt’s fingers. ‘No one could have stopped Shirley doing what she wanted. That’s my sister all over.’ She rose to her feet as the doctor approached. ‘How is she? Is the baby . . . ?’
‘Mrs Mallory has a fractured clavicle and we think she has slight concussion, but we’ll continue to assess her condition.’ He relaxed visibly and smiled. ‘And the baby was delivered safely by Caesarean s
ection. He’s on his way to the nursery next to the maternity ward. You can go there and see him if you want to.’
‘A boy,’ Avril said dazedly. ‘And he’s healthy?’
‘He’s a fine specimen. Seven pounds six ounces.’
‘Thank God they’re both all right.’ Avril stood up, taking Ginnie by the arm. ‘Come along, darling. Let’s go and meet the newest member of the family.’
Ginnie hesitated, fixing the doctor with a steady gaze. ‘My sister will recover fully, won’t she?’
‘We’re cautiously optimistic, but it’s impossible to assess the exact extent of her head injury as yet.’
‘Shirley is as tough as old boots,’ Avril said confidently. ‘You worry too much, Ginnie. Now let’s go and meet what’s-his-name.’
A reluctant giggle rose to Ginnie’s lips. ‘You can’t call a baby what’s-his-name.’
‘Well, as far as I know, your sister hadn’t got round to choosing a name for her child.’
Ginnie waited anxiously for Shirley to come round from the anaesthetic. She had spent an uncomfortable night sitting in an upright chair at her sister’s bedside. Nurses had been flitting in and out of the side ward all night, taking Shirley’s pulse and adjusting the drip, which did not seem to disturb Avril who was sleeping soundly in a chair by the window.
The room was suffused in the cold grey light of a December morning when Ginnie roused from a fitful doze, and she was suddenly alert. She thought she had seen Shirley’s eyelids flicker and she leaned closer. ‘Shirley.’
Her sister’s eyes opened wide, staring in an unfocused way at the ceiling and then at her. ‘What happened?’
‘There was an accident. You’re in hospital.’
‘Tony?’
‘You have a beautiful baby boy, Shirley.’
‘A boy,’ Shirley said drowsily. ‘I’ve got a son.’
‘Don’t try to talk. You had a nasty bang on the head and you’ve broken your collar bone, but you’ll be up and about before you know it.’