by Annie Groves
Finally she was satisfied that she had done as much as she could for the young woman, and sat back on the wooden chair. Kathleen sipped the sugary tea, her hand shaking, and her teeth chattered against the china. Alice leant forward and helped her set the cup down again. ‘Now, Kathleen, can you tell me again what happened?’ she asked quietly. ‘It’s my duty to try to make sure you are safe and that your injuries don’t become worse; can I be sure of that when I leave here?’
Kathleen stared miserably down at the floor. ‘I’ll be more careful. That’s all.’
Alice shook her head. ‘Will that really be enough, Kathleen?’
‘It won’t happen again,’ said the young woman. Her voice was dull but there was a stubborn tone to it that Alice could not miss.
‘You know you can tell me anything and I won’t repeat it,’ she pressed. ‘It’s confidential – anything you say to me need not go any further. You can tell me whatever you like.’
‘Ain’t nothing to tell,’ Kathleen maintained. ‘I fell, just like what I told you. Like what I told Mattie.’
‘Yes, but—’ Mattie began.
‘That’s all there is to say,’ Kathleen interrupted. ‘It won’t happen again neither. So you needn’t worry. I’m all right, really I am.’
Alice rose, unwilling to leave her patient without hearing exactly what had brought her to this state, but realising there was little to be gained by challenging her directly. She knew there would be other calls to make this morning, more sick patients to see, all equally in need of medical attention. Yet her heart was sore with the knowledge that this young woman was suffering because of her violent husband who’d got away scot-free.
‘I’ll leave you both, then,’ she said heavily. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow to check on your progress, Kathleen. Mattie, if there’s any change, you know where to find me.’
Mattie walked with her to the door and stood just outside while Alice fitted her leather bag into the front basket of the bicycle. ‘She won’t change her story,’ she said in an undertone.
‘And we can’t make her,’ said Alice resignedly. ‘But you will let me know if he does it again, won’t you?’
Mattie shrugged. ‘I reckon he’s scarpered. Did you see all that money in the corner? I bet that’s his wages. At least he’s left her with something useful. What a coward. I’ll get Harry to ask around; someone’ll know where the bastard has gone to.’
‘Will you stay with her?’ asked Alice. ‘She’ll struggle to look after herself, let alone Brian, with only one arm.’
Mattie stood up straighter. ‘Of course. I can take the baby round for Ma to see to and then I can get some shopping in for Kath. I can set the place a bit straighter too – looks as if she wasn’t the only thing that fell over. I won’t take her round to our house, though – not when she’s looking like that. She won’t want anyone else to see. Besides,’ her voice dropped even lower, ‘if my brothers see what that snivelling excuse for a husband has done, they’ll hunt him down and kill him.’
CHAPTER TEN
Flo Banham prodded the potatoes with a knife, but they weren’t yet done. She decided to get on with something else while she waited. A watched pot never boiled and watched potatoes never cooked properly. It was one of those facts of life. She began to sort through a large pile of clean laundry, folding clothes and pairing socks, as her thoughts wandered. Harry was up to something, she could just tell. He had that look on his face and a mother always noticed these things. She’d bide her time and then worm it out of him, whatever it was.
The back door opened and she almost jumped as Stan came in, dusting off his jacket and wiping his feet on the old coir mat.
‘You gave me a surprise, you did!’ she mock-scolded him. ‘I didn’t expect you for ages yet.’ She frowned. ‘Is everything all right?’
Stan nodded, but looked a little sheepish. ‘Sorry to take you by surprise.’ He came across to where she stood and gave her a quick kiss. ‘Here, put that down for a minute. I had something to do this afternoon and thought I’d come home directly afterwards. Not much point in going back to work now.’
‘Stanley Banham, what have you been doing?’ Flo was worried now. ‘You better tell me what you mean, and sharpish.’
Stan went to sit down at the kitchen table and she followed suit.
‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘I been looking at all those notices in the paper and they’re saying that not enough people have come forward to be ARP wardens. They been naming the roads where nobody’s stepped up to the mark. All these people living cheek by jowl, and not one of them says they’ll do it. I thought to myself, that can’t be right. I mean, I hope it doesn’t come to it, but if we do go to war then we’ll need to be organised against air raids. Then I said to myself, Stan, my lad, you can’t just sit there with your feet up and complain when you aren’t doing anything about it. So I been and signed up as an ARP warden. There. I’ve said it.’ He spoke confidently but he was eyeing his wife anxiously. He loved her dearly and didn’t want to hurt her and yet he’d sensed that if he’d spoken about this beforehand she might have talked him out of it. Even after all these years, he could never quite predict how she would react.
Flo’s face relaxed. ‘I thought you had bad news, Stan. My heart was beating fast there for a minute.’ She sighed. ‘I wish you didn’t need to as well, but I think you gone and done the right thing. That’s brave of you, that is.’ She reached forward and took his big hand in her smaller one, worn into calluses by years of hard work. ‘You better tell me what it’ll all mean. Will you be in more danger than the rest of us?’
Stan shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. I’ll have to make sure everyone toes the line when it comes to air-raid precautions. It will mean I won’t be home quite as much, but you’ll have Joe and Harry to see to things.’
They exchanged a look. Both knew what had happened to men of Joe and Harry’s age in the Great War. Stan had been called up when he was about Joe’s age and he never wanted to go through anything like that again. He’d been one of the lucky ones; he’d survived the fighting and even managed to get home on leave several times. Harry and Mattie had both been conceived on his all-too-brief breaks from the Front. He knew how stoic Flo had been, left behind to cope with small children, never certain if she’d see him again. He didn’t want that for their sons; he hadn’t fought for his country only for his children to have to endure the same thing all over again. Yet there was little he could do about it.
Flo glanced away. ‘You do what you think is best,’ she said steadily. She swallowed hard and then looked him in the eye once more. ‘You make me proud, you do, Stanley Banham. You don’t sit around letting everyone else do the work. I suppose I better start thinking about what I can do as well.’
Stan smiled. ‘That’s the spirit, love. I’m glad you see it like that. Not every wife would.’
‘Of course I do!’ Flo was indignant. ‘You got to do what you think is right, to keep us all safe.’
Stan stroked her hand. ‘One thing we got to consider is how to protect our house.’
‘Our house?’ Flo put her other hand to her throat. This house was her pride and joy, her sanctuary, the home in which she had brought up her brood of children and now her precious grandchild. She could not contemplate how they would manage without the familiar four walls. It was nothing fancy, and a bit worn at the edges, but everything in it had been put together with love and care for the family. It was a bit of a tight squeeze now Mattie was back again and the boys had to share the biggest bedroom, but nobody really minded. She was damned if Hitler was going to damage her house.
‘We got to think about the windows. We’ll need blackout blinds,’ Stan said. ‘Best be getting on with it right away as everything is bound to get scarce once the word gets out. Material will be dear, you can bet on it. And we need to put strips of sticky tape across the windowpanes in case there’s a bomb blast.’
Flo shivered, but she knew he was right. She gave a little sigh of r
egret, as she loved looking out of the kitchen window at the small back garden, the flower pots filled with geraniums and petunias. Now she’d have to peer at them around the tape. But it was a small price to pay.
‘You’re right as ever, Stan. I’ll get down the market tomorrow and see what they got.’ She stood up. ‘Now you’ll have to excuse me, as those spuds must be done by now and I don’t want the pan to boil dry. Blackout blinds will have to wait until I’ve fed you lot.’
‘Alice, are you sure you don’t want to come with us?’ Edith asked, for the twentieth time that Friday. ‘You won’t feel like a gooseberry, honest. Harry’s bringing several of his friends along.’
While that might have made all the difference to any of the other nurses, it had the reverse effect on Alice. ‘No, really,’ she said. ‘I’ve still got the final few chapters to read of my book. You go on and have fun. Mary’s dying to go.’
‘I know, but it’s not the same without you there,’ Edith said. Her eyes were dark with concern for her friend. ‘You are going to come out at some point, aren’t you, Al? I’m going to keep asking until you do.’
Alice laughed. ‘I’d realised that. But not tonight. I’m shattered, for a start. I haven’t stopped for a moment since that callout first thing Monday morning.’ She pulled a face as she remembered the state of poor Kathleen. She’d been back on the Tuesday to check that all was well and fortunately she’d heard no more from Jeeves Place since then. She had therefore assumed that the young woman was recovering, but still half expected Mattie to reappear at any minute. ‘What are you wearing tonight?’
Edith leant against the window frame in Alice’s room. ‘I thought I’d go in my red sandals again – they brought me luck last time. Maybe my cream dress with the cap sleeves. It’s warm out today.’
‘I’ve got a red and white scarf you could borrow,’ Alice offered, suddenly remembering. ‘I haven’t even unpacked it since we moved in. That would go well, wouldn’t it?’
Edith’s face lit up. ‘It would. I know the one. Oh, Alice, don’t you mind?’
‘Not a bit,’ said Alice. ‘You go off and get ready or Mary will be left hanging around.’
Mary hung on to Edith’s arm, swinging her shoulder bag with her other hand. ‘Do you think he’ll be there already?’ she asked.
‘I’m sure he will,’ said Edith, trying to conceal just how much she was looking forward to seeing Harry Banham again. She had planned to play it very cool, but her heart was hammering in her chest. Calm down, she told herself. You hardly know him. All the same, every nerve zinged with anticipation.
As they rounded the corner of Victory Walk she could see him waiting at the bus stop and her breath caught in her throat. He really was quite astonishingly good-looking, and the evening sun was glinting on that gorgeous oak-brown hair. As they drew closer he heard them and looked up, giving her a wide smile.
Steady on, she reminded herself, he’s smiling at Mary too, so he probably looks like that at everyone. Yet something told her his expression was because she was there. ‘Hello, Harry,’ she said, smiling back at him, but not too eagerly – although that was an effort. ‘You remember Mary, don’t you?’
‘Course I do,’ he said, holding out his hand, which Mary shook with a wide grin of her own. ‘Pleased you could come, Mary.’
Mary gave a little laugh and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. She had taken care with her appearance tonight, Edith noted – she’d brought out another silky dress with a tightly belted waist which showed off her curves, her favourite sort of dress for going out.
‘Where are you taking us, Harry?’ she asked, glancing up at him through her eyelashes.
‘Well, ladies, I thought we’d go to the Duke’s Arms,’ he said. ‘There’s a garden out the back so you won’t feel out of place. Do you know it?’
‘No, I don’t know much around here yet,’ admitted Edith, but Mary said, ‘I’ve been there before and it was very friendly. What a good idea, Harry.’
He ushered them down the main road and then off on a side street, which opened out into a wide road of tall terraced houses, their windows reflecting the evening sunlight. Window boxes full of bright flowers stood on the ledges and by the front steps. Towards the far end of the road, on a corner, they could see the painted sign of the Duke’s Arms, swinging in the light breeze. Sounds of laughter floated out from the open door.
‘Here we are, ladies.’ Harry waved them in to the front bar, which was full of people celebrating the start of the weekend, mostly men in working clothes. A few women, nearly all older than the nurses, turned to look at the new arrivals, and several appeared to know Harry, who waved at them as he escorted Edith and Mary through to the garden at the back. It was little more than a big yard with tables and chairs dotted about, but there was clearly a keen gardener in charge, as the fences were covered in climbing plants and the sweet scent of honeysuckle filled the air, mingling with the hoppy aroma of the beer. There were more pots full of flowers, bright nasturtiums and busy Lizzies.
‘Oh, this is very nice,’ breathed Edith. Although she had no objection to public bars, she knew Alice would frown at the idea. But even her more particular friend could not have found fault with this.
‘Glad you approve,’ said Harry, as his hand lightly brushed the top of her arm. ‘What can I get you to drink?’
‘Shandy, please,’ said Edith at once.
‘Yes, me too,’ said Mary.
Harry patted the shoulder of the man standing with his back to them. ‘Joe, look after these two ladies until I return. You know them already – Edith and Mary.’
Joe turned around and politely said hello. Edith was struck again by how much he looked like his brother, and yet he didn’t. Harry was in a blue shirt, with the sleeves rolled back and his tie loosened to the point where it was about to come undone. Joe was in a far more traditional white shirt, with a barely loosened dark tie, and his expression was friendly enough but somehow reserved at the same time. She could see that their eyes were very similar, and yet Harry’s were full of energy whereas Joe’s were deep and shrewd. Edith said ‘hello’ back brightly but she knew which brother she preferred.
‘And this is our friend Billy,’ Joe said, as another man came over to join them.
Edith observed how Billy was a little shorter than the Banham brothers, with black hair and eyes of grey-blue. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said, shaking their hands. ‘Pardon me, ladies, I haven’t had time to use my hand cream today and I know my grip’s a bit rough.’ He grinned to show he was joking but it was true – his palms were like sandpaper, Edith noticed. ‘I work down the docks and there ain’t nothing you can do about it.’
‘I bet it’s busy down there at the moment,’ said Edith.
‘You’re telling me. I didn’t think I was going to get here at all at one point, and I been down there since breakfast.’ Billy didn’t sound too sad about it though. ‘And where do you work, girls? Or are you ladies of leisure?’
‘We’re nurses,’ Mary said.
‘Oh, nurses!’ Billy’s smile was even wider. ‘Which hospital? My old ma used to clean up the Mothers in Clapton, that was before her knees gave out.’
‘We’re district nurses,’ Edith explained. ‘We do our basic hospital training and then we specialise, so we can go into people’s homes and treat them there.’
Harry nodded in approval as he returned, bearing a tray of drinks. ‘Here you are – shandies for you and a pint of the landlord’s finest for me.’ He raised his glass. ‘Yes, that’s how we met. Edith’s friend came to help Kathleen, and Mattie got talking to her. Then we happened to bump into each other down Vicky Park. Small world, eh?’ He took a long draught of his beer. ‘Ah, nectar. You don’t know what you’re missing, Edie.’ He grinned at her and again she felt it was a look he kept just for her.
‘Ah, was that you what did that?’ asked Billy, turning to Mary.
‘No, it was another of us from the same home – she’s called Alice,�
� Mary explained.
‘She didn’t fancy comin’ out with you tonight, then?’ Billy asked.
Edith laughed. ‘No, she’s happier staying in and finishing her book. That’s how she likes to spend her time off.’
‘Takes all sorts,’ said Billy, lifting his glass to his mouth.
Joe inclined his head. ‘Which book would that be?’ he asked, a small smile on his face.
Edith looked at him and tried not to show that she thought that was a very odd question. ‘Well, I’m not sure. She reads so many. No, hang on – it’s that one we went to the film of, Harry. The one with the smugglers – Jamaica Inn, that was it.’
‘Oh.’ Joe nodded. ‘I’ve heard it’s very good.’
‘Couldn’t tell you, but the film was riveting,’ said Harry, his gaze on Edith even though he was speaking to his brother. His expression told her he was remembering holding her hand at the end. ‘It’s a dire warning not to get caught out on the remote moors on your own.’
‘Oooh, I wouldn’t dare,’ said Mary and pretended to shudder. ‘I’d be scared.’ She glanced hopefully at Joe but he hadn’t noticed.
He was glancing round at the other people in the beer garden, which was filling up with more and more workers, some obviously arriving straight from the nearby factory. Two women came in, pulling wide scarves from their hair, shaking out the dust. They were groaning theatrically, flapping the material. Joe acknowledged them with a nod and they came over.
‘Hiya, Joe. How are you?’ asked the taller one, a redhead. Then she turned to Harry. ‘Well, well, look who it is. Haven’t seen you for ages, Harry. Where’ve you been hiding yourself?’
‘I’m in training,’ he said, grinning and flexing the muscles of the arm not holding his beer. ‘I can’t be out gadding around, not with my busy schedule. Tonight’s an exception.’