‘Ah yes, your sister. She’s been working away? Is she back for good?’
‘Yes.’
‘And your mother?’
‘She’s fine, Matron.’
Mary really did think her mother was trying to cut down on her drinking since they’d had that first talk. Of course it helped that Mr Brown had been away, staying with his son in Birmingham, but at least Mary understood a little of why she drank so much.
‘I’m lonely Mary,’ Winifred said, hugging the beaker of tea. ‘I miss your father.’
‘I know that Mam but Dad was such a bully.’ Mary said, her forehead furrowed in puzzlement. ‘And you’re free to do what you want now.’
‘That’s just it, love. I don’t know what I want,’ Winifred said. ‘I’ve done what’s been expected of me for so long I don’t know what I want now. I suppose, if I think about it, it’s not so much that I miss your father as I miss being needed. Even if no one noticed what I did.’ Fat tears plopped on to her hands as she drank. ‘I thought that after what happened to you, you’d need me but you don’t. Jean and Patrick have taken over. And Ellen … she could have stayed at home, kept the baby. I’d have helped her to look after it. My first grandchild, Mary, and it’ll be brought up God knows where by God knows who.’ She brushed the tears off her face with the back of her hand. ‘And Tom … I miss Tom. Every time I think they’ll let him out he seems to do something they can pounce on; something that lets them keep him in.’ She put her beaker on the table and looked at Mary, her eyes bleak. ‘No one needs me, I’m no use to anyone.’
‘That’s not true.’ Mary grabbed her hand and squeezed it. ‘That’s not true, Mam. We all know how much you did for us. It’s just different at the moment, but in our own way we still need you. I have to get back to work, we need the money, so you’ll have to keep the house ticking over; look after things like you used to. And once Tom and Ellen get back you’ll feel better. And then there’s Patrick and Jean’s baby coming soon, they’ll be glad of some help then.’
‘Happen,’ Winifred sighed, ‘happen.’
‘I want you to be the Mam we used to have. I know you’ve always liked the odd tipple, and heaven knows you deserved it with all you had to put up with, but it’s too much now. You’re drinking too much, love, and you know it.’
‘Aye, I know you’re right. It’s just so hard.’
‘Just try, eh Mam, just try.’
‘I will, love. For you Mary, I’ll try.’
And Winifred had. But, as Mary reminded herself, Mr Brown was away.
‘So, if you’re sure you’re ready?’
‘I am, Matron. Thank you.’
‘Well, I’m sure we can find plenty for you to do.’ She tapped a pencil on her desk, giving one last sharp rap before she said, ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking but there is something else. Private Shuttleworth.’ The unexpected mention of his name sent a shock through Mary. ‘Because he was a guard here the police informed the Camp Commandant as to what happened and he received a copy of the Coroner’s Inquest for the records. It must have been dreadful for you and as far as the Commandant and I are concerned that is an end to the matter, except there is something I have to ask. I’m aware it must be a painful subject for you.’ She hesitated.
Mary swallowed and clenched her hands behind her back. ‘Yes Matron, it is. But, please, if you have anything to ask?’
‘I believe your brothers have been subsequently questioned? Hospital gossip, I’m afraid, Sister, but I need to know there will be no distractions from your work, if you come back. Were any charges brought?’
‘No.’ Mary frowned. Matron had plainly heard about Tom’s escape, why otherwise did she ask about both of them? Well, she’ll get nothing from me, she thought. ‘They were cleared of being involved in any way.’ She didn’t think it necessary to tell Matron that she’d been refused her last prison visit to Wormwood Scrubs, with no good reason given. Or that Detective Yeats had actually told Mary that his men had more to worry about than the death of a rapist; they had their hands full dealing with the riots caused by the resentment of soldiers returning from the war, jobless, and seeing German POWs working on the building sites and roadworks in Bradlow. Investigations into Frank’s murder were on hold and unlikely to be reopened.
‘Well then, if you’re sure you’re ready, Sister Howarth, I’ll be very glad to see you back on the ward. But not for another week or so.’ She held up a hand as Mary started to speak. ‘That’s my final word, Mary. It will give you more time to recover; you’ve been through a lot. So, I will see you on,’ she consulted her calendar, ‘the seventeenth. Start you on days.’
‘I would prefer night shift, Matron.’
‘Give it a little time to get adjusted and then let’s see, Sister.’
Outside Matron’s office Mary grimaced. Another week!
Peter was waiting in the corridor, reading a bulletin on the notice board. He didn’t look at Mary as she walked towards him. ‘Good afternoon, Doctor Schormann,’ she said in a loud voice. ‘How are you?’
He turned towards her and clicked his heel. ‘Matron, she watches,’ he murmured.
‘I’ll see you next week,’ Mary whispered.
‘You are back?’
‘Yes. I love you. I have missed you so much.’
Peter raised his voice. ‘I am well. Fully recovered, thank you Sister.’ Then he muttered. ‘She is gone. I too have missed you. And I love you, mein Geliebter.’ Their hands brushed as Mary walked on. He’d met her gaze, his eyes hadn’t wavered and they’d told her everything she needed to know.
Chapter 56
Mary had been watching Peter all morning. This was the second time she’d seen him since she came back to work two days ago and he was different somehow. What if she’d got it wrong last week? What if he did think she was partly to blame for what Frank did to her? Her skin prickled. ‘Is there something wrong?’ She collected the notes from ward round off the trolley and joined Peter, who was sitting at her desk, filling out forms.
‘It is nothing.’
Mary shuffled the files, pretending to put them in order. ‘Is it me? Do you feel differently about me?’ She made herself sound calm. ‘Is it us? Has someone said something?’
Peter sighed and looked past her at the other nurses on the ward. He spoke quietly. ‘No, it is not us. I have received threats from … certain people; about something that I wrote in the Wochenpost.’
Mary balanced the notes on top of the filing cabinet and began to search through them. They didn’t look at each other.
‘While you were … ill, not here, we were shown some films of the KZs, the concentration camps. Those poor people; their suffering.’
Mary stopped filing. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘I’ve heard it on the radio, read about them in the papers. It’s horrible.’
‘For weeks I was unable to remove them from my mind. I could not sleep. The creatures that carried out such horrific crimes are not part of the Germany I know and love. They are a cancerous growth. I needed to say how much, as an honourable German, I am ashamed. But my writing has caused harm to others. There have been beatings of those who dared to agree with what I wrote.’
‘The Nazis?’
He moved his head slightly.
‘So, it is the Nazis who are threatening you?’
‘Ja. They are young SS thugs. I care nothing for politics but they seek to weaken my position as Lagerführer; show others that I cannot protect them.’ He spread his fingers. ‘That I am unable to make sure they are looked after by the authorities here. They are determined to demonstrate what will happen if anyone dares to oppose their doctrines.’
‘You must report them.’
‘I cannot. It will make things worse.’
‘Then I will.’ Mary opened a drawer and began arranging the files in the compartments. ‘As a doctor you are part of this hospital and you are entitled to protection.’
‘No, please Mary. You must not draw attention to yourself. It is da
ngerous for you. Your people …’
‘I’ll not stand by and see you beaten like some of those poor beggars in there,’ Mary interrupted, waving her hand towards the ward.
‘You must not. You will put yourself in danger.’ Peter watched a nurse walking down the ward towards the office. ‘Staff Nurse Lewis is coming. Please, Mary, say nothing, for your own sake.’ He stood up. ‘And there are too many of the SS. If one or two are sent away, there are others to replace them.’ He moved away from Mary’s desk. ‘I must get back to camp, to my other duties.’
‘Be careful!’
‘I will, but I must also do what I can to prevent more beatings. I have to reassure the others, tell them, as you say, to keep their heads down.’
When Hilda Lewis walked into the room he inclined his head and snapped his heels together.
‘Is everything all right, Sister Howarth?’
‘Fine.’ Mary returned her gaze. She thought back to the last conversation she’d had with the woman. Since she’d returned to work she’d avoided her. From what the other girls said she’d become even more insufferable since her promotion. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
‘I just wondered.’ Hilda Lewis hovered by the door. ‘We haven’t spoken since you came back and I just wanted to say I was so sorry to hear what happened. It was dreadful. I was shocked. I do hope it was nothing to do with what we’d spoken about?’
‘I’m sorry, I can’t remember.’
‘Oh surely you must. I told you … about the conversation I heard.’
‘You thought you heard, Staff.’
‘I know I heard, Sister. So I wondered …’
‘Instead of wondering, Staff, you would make better use of your time if you supervised the second Urea Concentration Test on the patient admitted this morning. We need to see if his kidneys are working as they should.’ That should keep her busy for a while, Mary thought. ‘I have to leave the ward for a few minutes. I’m taking some notes to Matron.’
As she left Mary could almost feel the hatred that Hilda Lewis was directing at her back.
Chapter 57
‘You’re settling back in all right, Sister?’
‘Thank you, Matron, yes.’
‘Good. And you would rather wait until the Commandant arrives before you tell me what this is about?’ Matron’s mouth was pursed.
‘Please. Only so I don’t have to repeat myself, Matron.’
Mary wasn’t told she could sit down. She clasped her hands in front of her.
‘And there are no problems with my hospital or the running of my hospital?’
‘No. No, it’s nothing like that.’
‘Hmm.’ Matron picked up a pen and began writing. Mary knew she wasn’t mollified.
The door opened and the Commandant strode in. ‘I hope this won’t take long Matron.’ He was unusually impatient. ‘I have a delegation of angry POWs waiting to see me about the cut in rations.’ He flopped down in an armchair in the corner of the room.
Matron pointed at Mary with her pen. ‘Sister Howarth has something to share with you, Major Taylor.’ She stressed the ‘you’.
‘With both of you, Matron,’ Mary said.
‘Well, sit down, girl, and get it over with. As you heard, the Commandant is a very busy man.’
Mary hadn’t thought about what she wanted to say; she’d acted on impulse. Now she knew she should be careful. ‘It’s Doctor Schormann.’ Both raised their eyebrows but said nothing. ‘I overheard him telling Sergeant Strauss today that he was being threatened by some of the Nazis for a piece he wrote in the Camp newspaper. When I asked him about it he refused to discuss it with me.’
‘Quite right too,’ Matron said. ‘Your conversation should extend only to hospital matters.’
‘I know, Matron, and I’m sorry. It’s just that he only returned to his post a few weeks ago because of his injury and –’
‘Which was an accident,’ the Commandant broke in.
‘Yes, of course, Major, I was only trying to say he perhaps is not as strong because of the accident.’
‘I am not sure how that concerns you, Sister.’ Matron fiddled with the pen and leaned back in her chair.
Mary laced her fingers together to stop her hands shaking. ‘My only concern is the hospital, Matron. You said yourself last week that we were short staffed and when Doctor Schormann was a patient they couldn’t find anyone to replace him. We can’t afford to lose his services again, especially as Doctor Pensch isn’t too well either.’
‘All right, all right. Perhaps you should tell Major Taylor why you are concerned.’
‘You know how things are at the moment Major; we have a ward full of men as a result of the beatings and bullying by the Nazi faction within the camp. And then there was that murder, just before I returned to work; that prisoner hung in the wash house as a supposed traitor.’
‘A one-off incident, Sister.’ Major Taylor said, frowning.
‘But it could happen again … Doctor Schormann …’
‘Sister,’ Matron warned.
Mary didn’t stop. ‘His piece in the Wochenpost could be misconstrued by the Nazis.’ She saw them glance at one another. Matron was looking increasingly agitated.
Mary knew she had said too much. Her words tailed off. ‘It was only that I thought we’re so busy we can’t afford to lose him.’ She waited for one of them to speak.
Matron rapped her pen rapidly on the arm of her chair, scowling at Mary.
The Commandant leaned forward, his hands steepled, and he tapped his fingertips together before standing up. ‘Right, Sister, leave it with me.’ Holding the door handle, he responding to the older woman’s stiff smile. ‘Matron.’ He studied Mary. She thought he was going to say something else, but adjusting his cap, he opened the door and left.
‘Close the door after you, Sister,’ Matron said coldly.
Mary stood up. ‘And, Sister.’
‘Yes, Matron?’
‘You are treading on very thin ice. I’m not a fool and I’m neither deaf nor blind. I know what goes on in my hospital.’
‘I don’t know what you mean, Matron.’
‘Oh I think you do, my girl. In fact I know you do.’
‘No, Matron, I don’t. If I could go now, the ward is busy?’
‘Then you should have thought about that before you came to me with concerns that are none of your business.’
Mary bit back her retort. ‘Matron.’
The woman waved her away. ‘Don’t make me regret taking you back, Sister Howarth.’
Mary pulled the door to behind her. She couldn’t let go of the handle, even though she realised that Matron would probably be watching her through the glass panel. Finally she took in a huge gulp of air and moved away. Walking back to her ward, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake.
Chapter 58
July 1945
The backyard was a suntrap. It was hot and it wasn’t even midday yet. Mary had dragged what they still called her father’s armchair out from the kitchen and now sat next to Jean, who was perched on a wooden chair, her hands folded over her stomach. Neither mentioned the faint but still unpleasant smell that lingered over next door’s lavatory. Mary tilted her face to the sky and narrowed her eyes; iridescent particles of dust danced above her head. She tried to relax but a headache lurked behind her eyes. She hadn’t slept properly for days, not since the interview with the Commandant and Matron.
‘There’s no way you should have got involved,’ Jean said, wiping her forehead with a handkerchief. ‘Now you’ve got on the wrong side of Matron, she’ll be watching you like a hawk. It’s as though you’ve lost all reason. The man is a POW.’
‘Shush.’ Mary peered over her shoulder towards the house. Ellen was in the scullery emptying the wash boiler.
Jean followed her glance. ‘Should she be doing all that lifting? It’s not two months since she had the baby.’
‘I know. She came home as soon as they took the baby apparently and she won’t talk
about it. It’s as though it never happened.’
‘I don’t know how she could part with her, poor little girl. What will happen to her?’ Jean stroked her stomach.
Mary felt a twinge of irritation. ‘I don’t know but I do know Ellen felt she had no choice. But I am worried about her. What with her and Tom.’
‘No visit yet?’
‘No, I don’t know what’s going on, it’s a worry.’
‘You seem to be worrying about everyone but yourself,’ Jean said. ‘You should be thinking more about what you’re doing. If you take my advice you’ll stay clear of you know who.’
‘I’ve not seen him anyway,’ Mary said. ‘He seems to be on different shifts all the time. We’ve had Doctor Pensch on the ward for the shifts I’m on.’ Mary circled her fingertips over her temples.
‘I thought Doctor Pensch wasn’t well?’
‘Stomach ulcers apparently; he’s being given extra rations. Why are we talking about Doctor Pensch?’
‘It was just that you said you hadn’t seen Peter.’ Jean stopped and sniffed. ‘Smell?’ she pointed towards next door.
‘Lavvy, stinking.’ Mary nodded.
‘No, the pipe smoke.’ Jean mouthed the words, ‘Mrs Jagger.’
‘All right, Mrs Jagger?’ Mary called. There was exaggerated coughing and the lavatory flushed. The girls listened to her shuffling across the yard.
‘Nosy old bag,’ Mary said.
‘But that’s exactly what I mean,’ Jean whispered. ‘You have to be careful. They didn’t stick those “Walls have Ears” posters up for nothing.’
‘Not sure they were thinking about old Jagger though.’ Mary smiled slightly.
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