by Annie Groves
‘Alice, Alice.’ Dermot rose and came across to her. ‘Don’t upset yourself now.’
She stepped a little away from him, not wanting to resume their old familiarity. That brought back the sense of Mark being there with them. It was too sharply painful. She had to put up her guard, the one she’d built in those dark and despairing days after he’d left her and gone off to fight in the Spanish Civil War, so full of the high ideals that she couldn’t help but come second to. ‘I’m not upset, not really,’ she said. ‘I know it’s all over and that’s that. It’s not that I want him back. I know he’ll always put the cause first, and I admire him for his courage.’
‘Yes, he’s got a lot of that,’ Dermot said. ‘I only hope I have a quarter as much, when I come face to face with danger. You never know until you’re tested, do you?’
Alice nodded. ‘He’s no coward, that’s for sure. I was proud of that, even though it meant we had to part.’ She subconsciously played with the badge at her throat again. ‘So, how is he?’
‘He’s very well,’ said Dermot, keeping his voice neutral. ‘He was lucky not to be wounded out in Spain, and when he came back he took up his post at the hospital again. Said he couldn’t believe how well equipped it was compared to where he’d been. He’d lost weight of course, but he’s put it on again and is fighting fit now.’
‘Good,’ said Alice. ‘He’ll need to be, won’t he.’ She gazed down at her feet. ‘Glad to know he’s all right. Not that it makes a difference to me,’ she said hurriedly. She didn’t want Dermot going off to Southampton in a few weeks and telling Mark she was still pining for him. She had her pride.
‘Anyway, thank you for seeing me.’ She looked at her watch, a sensible plain one, not the delicate gold one Mark had once given her for Christmas. That was at the bottom of a drawer in her old bedroom in her parents’ house. ‘We’re bound to come across each other over the next few weeks, and now that’s cleared the air.’ She gave him a bright smile even though she felt as if she was breaking inside with all the old memories resurrected.
Dermot know her too well to be fooled, but said nothing. He admired her, realising it had taken her own brand of courage to come here like this. He counted Mark as his best friend, closer even than his own two brothers, but thought that in this matter alone the man was a fool. How anyone could have won the heart of a woman as clever, clear-sighted and loyal as Alice Lake only to turn his back on her was completely beyond him. He only wished he had been half as lucky. While he was perfectly aware of his looks, the truth was that they brought him plenty of attention, but rarely of the sort he actually wanted. He had yet to find a true soulmate; and yet he had believed that was what Mark and Alice had found in each other. He had been proved sadly wrong.
‘We will have plenty of patients in common if those reports are anything to go by,’ he said now. ‘I look forward to working with you again, Alice. Well, I’ll have to get used to calling you Nurse Lake in front of everyone.’
‘You will.’ Alice brightened, cheered by the thought of working with someone whose abilities she knew she could trust without even having to think twice. ‘I’ve got a professional reputation to maintain, I hope you realise.’ She made to move towards the door.
‘I don’t doubt it for a minute,’ he said, ‘but I hope you have some free time? I’ll be stuck in with my medical tomes otherwise. Shall we meet up after work this week?’
Alice nodded. Now she’d had this difficult conversation, she felt lighter. ‘That would be lovely,’ she said as he held open the surgery door. ‘Thank you Dermot, for everything.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘I do hate it when these blasted committee meetings go on late.’ Fiona tied her scarf firmly around her neck as she and Gwen stepped out into the cool evening. ‘If everyone was disciplined about it, they could have got through the agenda in half the time.’ She shook her head. Wasting time and lack of discipline were two things she had little patience for. There was no avoiding the meetings, though. The nursing association was managed by the committee and so, as superintendent and deputy, Fiona and Gwen were accountable to them.
‘Too many people enjoying the sound of their own voices,’ Gwen agreed, hefting her shoulder bag into place, having retrieved her torch from it. She switched it on, making sure it was properly shielded to conform to the rules of the blackout. ‘Still, that’s that over and done with for a while.’
Fiona glanced up at her taller colleague. ‘There’s that to be thankful for at least, I suppose. Anyway they agreed to our main suggestions. That’s something.’ She was determined to look on the bright side, even though attending meetings was by far and away her least favourite part of the job. Now she was eager to get back to the nurses’ home for a warming drink, after which she would probably sit up into the early hours, catching up with the never-ending paperwork.
Gwen pursed her lips. The suggestions would mean changes and she never liked that. ‘Do you have any candidates in mind?’ she asked. ‘I’m assuming you do, or else you would never have mentioned the idea before the committee.’
Fiona nodded briskly. ‘Naturally. You have to go into these situations well prepared, you know that. While I’m sure all our nurses could teach first aid perfectly adequately, it strikes me that some are far more suitable than others.’
Gwen snorted. ‘We’ll need to make sure they are steady and sensible. To my mind that rules out a fair few.’
Fiona laughed. ‘Gwen, my dear, you’re far too hard on them.’
Gwen shook her head. ‘Not at all. Have you seen them this past couple of days? All this excitement about the new locum doctor. They’re running around as if they’ve quite lost their heads. It’s very unedifying.’
‘Not all of them,’ said Fiona. ‘There are several who have steady boyfriends, fiancés even, and I’m pleased to say they have carried on as if nothing has happened. I was thinking of asking Edith Gillespie for a start.’
‘Edith?’ Gwen asked dubiously. She had never quite forgiven her for breaking curfew so defiantly.
‘Yes, Gwen. She’s settled down a lot over the summer,’ Fiona stated. ‘Her young man has just enlisted, you know. Teaching first aid might be just the thing she needs to take her mind off that. I’ve seen her work, and she’s actually very good.’
‘You must do as you think best,’ said Gwen, unable to keep the doubt from her voice.
‘Exactly,’ said Fiona. ‘Also, we should ask Alice Lake, as she has a track record of teaching in the community. Her work with the school children made the difficult task of evacuating St Benedict’s that much easier. And of course she’s teaching Gladys to read in their spare time.’
‘Is she?’ Gwen came to a halt in surprise.
‘Oh yes. They probably think I don’t know about it. It’s all very low key. But I caught Gladys looking at an exercise book at the weekend, and they’ve been huddled together a few times. I think it’s excellent. I realise Gladys has kept her secret from everyone else, but this is the first time to my knowledge that she’s felt confident enough to do anything about it. I find that very encouraging.’
Gwen smiled faintly. It never ceased to amaze her how her friend found the good in every situation. Here they were, facing war and all manner of dangers, and she was excited about their maid learning to read. In the greater scheme of things it didn’t seem like much. Then she admonished herself for being mean-spirited. ‘Yes, you’d have thought the poor girl would be dog-tired at the end of a long day, she works so hard around the home,’ she acknowledged. ‘Where she gets the energy to study on top of that, I do not know.’
‘She has the incentive,’ Fiona declared. ‘We must find a way of rewarding that, when she’s had a chance to come on a bit. We’ll keep a weather eye.’ She bustled along, filled with renewed energy herself, and Gwen had to struggle to keep up.
They reached the front door of the home and Fiona swung it open. Her mind was on one thing only, and that was a nice cup of tea to warm her chilly hands
on. ‘We’ll just get the kettle on …’ she began, when the peace of the hallway was shattered by the insistent ringing of the telephone.
Gwen jumped. Even though she was used to it ringing in the daytime, it was still relatively new and it was unusual for it to sound after dark. A deep sense of foreboding told her this could not be good. She moved to reach for the receiver but, as ever, Fiona had reacted more quickly and got there first.
‘Yes … yes, I see,’ she murmured, while reaching for a notebook and pen with her other hand. ‘Do you have any further details? That’s a priority, of course … yes, not far at all. That will be perfectly all right, we will send somebody right away. Thank you, goodbye.’ She put the receiver down again and sighed.
‘Looks as if my bedtime drink will have to wait,’ she said.
‘Bad news?’ Gwen asked. ‘Is it serious?’
Fiona pulled a face. ‘I don’t know, but it could be. Another one of these blasted accidents thanks to the blackout. Honestly, it’s causing more problems than leaving the lights on – I know I shouldn’t say it. A young woman and her baby hit by a car that came off the road. It’s Dr Patcham all over again, except this time pedestrians were involved. That was the ARP station, asking if we can get someone over there. It’s just back by the main road – we must have missed it by minutes. I’ll go.’
‘No, you need your tea after that meeting. I’ll go,’ Gwen insisted.
A voice spoke from the bottom of the stairs, which was in shadow.
‘I’ll go. I don’t mind. You’ve both just got in.’
‘Alice? Is that you?’ Fiona called into the gloom.
Alice stepped into the light cast by the bulb nearest the telephone. ‘Yes, and I heard what you just said. I’ve been in all evening and today’s rounds weren’t bad at all – I’m wide awake and won’t sleep if I go to bed now anyway. My bag’s all refilled. It won’t take me a moment.’ Without waiting for their reply she sped up the stairs to her room.
Fiona leant against the wall of the hallway, smooth from where scores of nurses had brushed by. ‘Do you know what, Gwen, I’m inclined to send her,’ she said reluctantly. ‘Now we’ve come in from the cold, I don’t mind admitting that it’s just hit me I’m in need of a wee rest. Then I simply must attend to the administration I should have finished before we left. I honestly think she’ll make a better job of it than either of us at this moment.’
Gwen nodded. ‘You may well be right, Fiona. If Nurse Lake feels alert still then it makes sense to send her, as it is in the patients’ best interests.’
Fiona nodded. ‘I know. There’s no room for false pride on an occasion such as this. We have to be confident that we send somebody who’s up to the task, and I’ve no doubt that Alice will be. Thank you, my dear,’ she said, standing up straight again as the young nurse reappeared, Gladstone bag in hand. ‘Make sure that you stay out of harm’s way and come back as soon as you can. I’ll be up, no matter what time it is, so come and report to me. You need to go to the main road, just by the big bakery – I’m sure you know where I mean.’
Alice shut her eyes for the briefest of moments. ‘Yes, I do. It’s by the junction of Jeeves Street.’
‘That’s the one,’ said Fiona briskly. ‘Right then, off you go.’
Kathleen had been hurrying along the pavement, trying to push the pram and hold her shielded torch steady at the same time. It was well nigh impossible, and she had to keep stopping to adjust her grip, which meant the journey took even longer than usual. As if sensing her anxiety, Brian began to grizzle, even though he was tucked up safe and warm against the evening’s chill.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon,’ she sang out, trying to reassure him, but he could pick up his mother’s real feeling behind the cheery words. He knew as well as she did that it was long past his bedtime and he wanted his cot and a feed.
Kathleen sighed as she swapped her torch from one hand to the other. She had never intended to stay out this late. She should have known better than to trust her mother. She hadn’t seen her for ages, though, and so when she got a message that she’d be visiting her old friend Pearl who lived off Balls Pond Road, Kathleen had decided to join them. It was so much easier than getting the bus on the pram all the way down to her mother’s unfriendly house.
They had got there just after teatime, so Pearl wouldn’t feel obliged to offer them anything to eat. All the same, it had been over an hour before she was asked if she wanted as much as a cup of tea. By then Kathleen had been parched, as Pearl kept the house warmer than anybody she’d ever known, on account of her arthritis, which Kathleen now felt she knew enough to write a book about. Then Pearl and her mother had got out the sherry, and soon there was little sense to be had from either of them. Kathleen had declined, pointing out that she was still feeding Brian and it wouldn’t be good for him.
‘Oh, that old wives’ tale,’ her mother had snorted dismissively. ‘It never done any of you any harm. That’s typical of you, that is. Can’t just have a bit of innocent fun, always got the long face to spoil the party.’
‘Ma, that’s not fair,’ Kathleen had protested. ‘I just like tea better than sherry.’
‘Hark at her,’ Pearl had said. ‘Ain’t that a shame, cos my Bertie got hold of a whole load of sherry and I’m nearly out of tea.’ She cackled as she topped herself up.
Kathleen remembered Bertie, a boy who’d been a year or two ahead of her at school, and who’d been known as a bit of a bully. Nowadays he had the reputation of someone who could get stuff off the back of lorries. Evidently that included sherry. She had glanced sadly at her mother, who looked like an older version of her but with thinning grey hair and a face set in lines of discontent. Kathleen always hoped they would get on better each time they met, but each time she was disappointed. She wondered why she bothered, and yet she couldn’t stop trying. She clung to the belief that one day they would make up and have the same cosy relationship her mother seemed to have with the rest of her family.
‘So how come you’re out in the dark on your own on a night like this?’ Pearl went on. ‘Where’s your Ray? Ain’t he going to stop by to walk you home?’
‘Oh, him. Wouldn’t have thought he’d show his face round here,’ her mother began, and so Kathleen cut her off before she could get stuck in to her favourite subject: how Ray was a waste of space and they never should have got married, but now they had it was up to Kathleen to cope with whatever disasters he brought upon them.
‘Actually, no. He’s in the Merchant Navy now,’ she announced. She’d received a rare letter from him that very morning, informing her that he’d been officially transferred from his old ship to a Merchant Navy vessel, and so he was pleased to say he’d be getting regular wages. It was as if there had never been a row between them and he was going to behave like any normal caring husband. Kathleen had read it with a mixture of longing, disbelief, and relief. Regular money but no Ray around the house – perhaps that was as good as she could ask for. Her heart still ached for the love and passion they had shared, but she couldn’t risk him coming near Brian.
Her mother had perked up at that. ‘Is he now? I never thought he had it in him, I don’t mind admitting.’ She turned to Pearl. ‘How about your Bertie? When’s he joining up, then?’
Pearl had bristled. ‘He’s in a valued job, he is. He’s working all the hours God sends down the docks.’
Kathleen had had to stop herself from laughing. She could guess very well exactly what it was that Bertie was doing down the docks – tracking all the lorries so he could unload goods off the back of them on the QT. She wasn’t surprised to hear he had no plan to enlist.
‘Fit lad like him, they’d snap him up for one of the services,’ her mother had gone on, deliberately needling her friend.
Kathleen could see that it was time to go. She didn’t want to be around when the two older women started arguing. There was nothing her mother liked better than a good argument and they always left Kathleen with a headache tha
t took days to shift. ‘I’ll be off,’ she announced. ‘Got to get Brian to bed.’
‘All right then,’ her mother had said, as if it wasn’t ages since she’d seen her grandson. Kathleen supposed she had so many grandchildren it didn’t matter to her whether she saw much of him or not. She tried her best to hide her hurt.
With nothing more than the lukewarm cup of tea inside her, she turned the big pram back up the main road and headed for home. The autumn wind cut through her thin coat. As she hadn’t intended to be out this late, she hadn’t thought to put on an extra layer. Stupid, she chided herself. She should have known better. Too late now.
She could just about make out the sign of the big bakery in the darkness, caught by the light of the moon coming out from behind a cloud. ‘Nearly home,’ she said to Brian, who gave a whimper. ‘Won’t be long, you’ll see.’ She was saying it as much for herself as for his benefit. She bent to tuck in a corner of blanket under his chin and didn’t notice a car approaching at speed behind her. She was vaguely aware of a figure walking around the corner by the bakery, and was about to glance up to see if she knew who it was when everything started going very wrong.
Billy had been striding along, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, fuming at the unfairness of the world. Here he was, fit and able, and walking as well as anybody else. How dare they say he’d hold up his comrades if he was forced to march for a day? He would bet he could carry a heavy pack better than most of them. He spent most of his working life hauling huge crates around the docks and hard graft came naturally to him. So why had they turned him down?