by Annie Groves
‘Oh no.’ Alice couldn’t bite back the words, even if it was what she had known deep inside on first opening Fiona’s door. Nothing else but the loss of one of his fine sons would have reduced Stan Banham to his current state. Nothing but the loss of her soul-mate would have turned Edith into this sorrowful wreck, unable to stand or barely speak.
Stan cleared his throat. ‘Well, technically, he’s missing,’ he said, still staring out of the window, his eyes on the horizon. ‘Nobody can say for sure. But … but it’s likely. That he’s dead, that is.’ A spasm passed across his face.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Alice felt how inadequate the words were. She couldn’t think of anything better though. She was sorry – profoundly, deeply sorry for Stan and Flo, and Mattie and Joe, and most of all for Edith, who had fallen so hard for the handsome young boxer, who seemed to have the world at his feet. It was beyond her imagination to think he would never stride into the Jeeves Street kitchen again, or whisk Edith off for a night-time walk after the cinema, or let loose his easy laugh as he played with his niece. It was just unthinkable, and she hardly knew him compared to the other two people in the room. What a waste of such promise. ‘It was a difficult time over in France, that’s what they’re saying,’ she added, as if that would make it any better.
Stan nodded, still scanning the rooftops. ‘That’s right. Our Harry’s one of many.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Mattie’s husband Lennie – he’s been taken prisoner. At least we know that for certain. Also, their friend Pete – did you know him? – he’s been killed, and someone saw, so at least his young wife has the comfort of certainty.’
Alice closed her eyes in shock. Lennie, a prisoner of war – just when Mattie had the joy of another baby to look forward to. How brutally unfair. And Pete – she struggled to remember him, but knew he was one of the gang of old friends who seemed to have stuck together since schooldays, another testament to the strong bonds of friendship the Banham siblings had such a talent for. The family had taken a welter of shocks all in one go.
‘And Ray’s dead,’ said Edith suddenly. ‘Kathleen’s husband. Good.’
‘Edith, you can’t—’ Alice began, but her friend spoke over her, her eyes bright with abrupt fury.
‘Good riddance and I mean it. He beat her up, Alice, you know that. He left her with no money and went gadding off and hated their lovely baby. He didn’t deserve her and I’m glad she won’t have to put up with him any more. There, I’ve said it. Not like … not like …’ She gave way to tears again. ‘He was the most loving man, he was so caring and strong and looked after me like nobody’s ever done or will do again, and I loved him to bits. We were going to … were going to … it doesn’t matter. We’ll never do it now.’
Alice nodded sadly. Edith had never spoken directly of her plans with Harry, but anyone could see the two of them were no flash in the pan. It wasn’t just Harry she had lost – it was their whole future together too.
Stan slowly tore his gaze from the almost-dark sky and faced them. ‘I have to be going,’ he said. ‘I’m on duty this evening.’
Alice gasped. ‘Surely they won’t expect you to work your shift on a day like this? Won’t you be better off at home with everyone there?’
Stan shook his head. ‘I don’t mind what they expect. I expect me to turn up. The need to protect our streets doesn’t go away because of one piece of terrible news. So many families will be in a similar situation. We can’t all miss our shifts.’
Alice nodded, impressed by his solid determination. Here was someone who would not buckle under the weight of despair. ‘Shall I see you out?’ she offered.
Stan shook his head. ‘No. You stay here with Edith. She needs you more. I can find the way, don’t worry.’
‘Give my love to Flo and Mattie,’ said Alice bleakly, as the man she had always thought of as a rock took himself slowly but with dignity from the room.
The little golden carriage clock on the mantelpiece ticked away the minutes, and after a while Alice wondered if Edith had fallen asleep. She shook her gently. ‘Hey, are you awake? You should go up to bed. I’ll bring you something up if you like.’
Edith groaned. ‘I’m awake. I wish I wasn’t. Then this might all be a bad dream and I could fool myself it hasn’t happened. But it has.’
‘It has,’ agreed Alice, wishing with all her heart it was not so. ‘Come on, let’s get you up to your room. You can’t stay here, you really can’t.’
Edith sighed so deeply that she might have been a hundred years old. ‘I know. Give me a moment. My legs feel so heavy, they don’t want to move.’ She slowly swung them off the couch but she could scarcely stand.
Alice rose and helped her friend up. ‘Lean on me, that’s right. Look, I’ll go and find Gwen or write a note for Fiona, saying you’ll miss work tomorrow.’
At this, Edith suddenly straightened. ‘No, don’t do that. I’m not missing my rounds.’
Alice looked at her. ‘Don’t be silly, you should take the day off, nobody would blame you in the slightest.’
Edith stood her ground. ‘You heard what Stan said. We can’t all lay down tools when we get bad news. There’s too much of it. We’d crumble. I don’t intend to let everyone down.’ She met Alice’s gaze. ‘Harry would expect nothing less. He never ducked out of anything. So I shall do it for him, and that’s all there is to it, and don’t try to persuade me otherwise.’ Her head came up proudly.
‘Then you’d better get some sleep,’ said Alice firmly, and led her from the room.
Alice reached for the cocoa. It was late. Edith had finally climbed into bed and she’d agreed to a warm drink to send her off to sleep, and so Alice had gone downstairs and was making a cup for both of them. She went about making the drink automatically, her mind still numb from the shocking news.
The building was quiet, as everyone else must have turned in for the night. She was relieved, as she didn’t know if she could explain what had happened without breaking down, and she didn’t want to do that. It wouldn’t help.
She dug around in a cupboard and found a small tray. Its handles were lightly chipped but replacing it would not be a priority now. The home had more than that to be concerned about. As long as it was big enough for two cups of cocoa, she didn’t mind anyway.
As this stray thought occurred to her, she realised there were footsteps approaching. Gwen came into the small service area, her face serious. ‘Ah, Nurse Lake. Alice. I assume that second cup is for Edith?’
Alice nodded. ‘Yes, she—’
‘It’s all right,’ Gwen interrupted. ‘You don’t have to explain. I saw Fiona on her way out and she told me Mr Banham had come round and what sort of state he was in. We put two and two together – were we correct? Edith’s young man has been lost at Dunkirk?’
Alice shut her eyes for a moment. ‘Yes. Well, he’s missing. But his father said we should assume the worst.’
Gwen nodded briefly. ‘Why not bring the drinks up to my room, and I will give you something else for Edith to help her sleep.’ She left, and Alice had little option but to follow.
Gwen’s room was on the first floor, at the opposite end of the corridor to Fiona’s office, and would have had a view over the back yard if the blackout blind hadn’t been in place. Alice glanced around, observing that it was a large space, with room for a table and two chairs as well as a bed, easy chair, small desk, chest of drawers and a wardrobe. It also had the luxury of its own hand basin.
Gwen switched on a standard lamp in the corner, its fringed shade swaying a little as she did so. ‘Set your tray down here, Alice, and do take a seat for a moment.’
Alice did as she was asked, taking in the comfort of the room. She wondered for how long Gwen had been here, to make it so homely. It was unlike any of the other rooms in the place, with its extra cushions and shelves of framed photos.
Gwen took a seat opposite her at the little table and folded her arms as she leant back. ‘I’m very sorry to hear about Edith’s loss. Well, yo
ur loss too – you knew the young man in question, didn’t you? I can see from your face that you did.’
Alice nodded. ‘Yes. We met him nearly a year ago, not long after we moved in here. He and Edith hit it off immediately and that was that. They suited each other so well.’ She came to a halt, afraid that she could not go on. She glanced sideways and her eye was caught by the photographs arranged in a line.
Gwen saw what she was looking at.
‘Well, my dear, I am full of sympathy for what she will be going through right now, and in the days to come,’ she said sadly. ‘Believe me, I know what it is like. You think your world has come to an end. You think your heart will never mend. And yet, life goes on. While it might not be the life she would have hoped for, it will go on in some shape or form.’
Alice turned back to face the older nurse and was surprised by her expression, unlike anything she’d seen before. They were all used to Gwen being stern, strict and sometimes downright unforgiving, but this was something different. In spite of her sadness, she wondered what it might be.
Gwen sighed. ‘I am fully aware what you all think of me,’ she began, and ploughed on even when Alice tried to protest. ‘Much of that is inevitable; I am many years older than most of you, and am in a position of seniority. It is my duty to maintain standards and I will continue to do that, no matter what the cost. I don’t look for friendships with the new recruits, I simply expect professional behaviour. But I was young once.’ She inclined her head towards the shelf of photographs, some of which were faded. ‘I qualified just as the Great War got underway. We nurses saw much pain and suffering in those years. We also knew what personal loss was like.’
Alice’s eyes grew dark. ‘Those young men in the pictures?’ she asked, hardly daring to believe she was asking such a question of the fearsome deputy.
‘Indeed.’ Gwen nodded. ‘Two of them are – were – my brothers. Edgar and Walter. Neither survived the Somme.’
‘I see,’ said Alice, recognising what it must be costing Gwen to talk about this. No wonder she was so grave. ‘And – and the other young man? The one standing up?’
Gwen shifted position in her chair. ‘Ah. Well, that is Wilfred. Captain Wilfred Holmes. He didn’t survive either.’ She looked away, and Alice could see the older woman’s eyes brightening with unshed tears, even now so many years after the event. ‘We were to be married. He was killed just one month before the war ended. It seemed so cruel, that he nearly made it. But there was nothing to be done.’
Alice stayed silent. There was nothing she could say that Gwen wouldn’t have heard before. The handsome young man gazed out of the picture, the very image of bravery, his confident demeanour indicating what good company he would have been, his pride in his uniform evident even from this distance.
‘So.’ Gwen got to her feet and went to her desk, reaching to a ledge above it and retrieving a bottle, and then a glass. ‘That’s why I know what it’s like, how Edith is feeling. People will tell her that time cures all ills, but in my experience it doesn’t so much as cure them as change them, so that they slowly become more bearable. Her work will help. But in the meanwhile, here’s some sherry, in case it does the trick in the short term.’
Alice’s eyes widened in surprise. She knew Edith would have the occasional glass of the stuff but hadn’t expected Gwen to have a supply of it.
Gwen gave a small smile. ‘Don’t be thinking I sit here on my own sipping this every evening, Nurse Lake. It’s very much for special use, or emergencies, which by my reckoning is what this evening is. Don’t let me detain you further, or your cocoa will be cold, but I wanted to give you this for her, just in case it is of use. And do tell her she can speak to me at any time, as I am only too aware what it’s like.’
Alice rose, took the bottle and glass and added them to her tray. ‘Thank you. I will tell her. Oh, and I forgot to say before, she’s determined to go on her rounds tomorrow, no matter what.’
Gwen pressed her lips together in approval. ‘That’s for the best. She’ll be needed, no matter how she feels inside. Nurse Gillespie has proved herself to be an asset to our establishment, no matter what reservations I initially held about her.’ She opened her door so that Alice could pass through carrying the little tray. ‘Good night, Alice. Look after your friend.’
‘I will.’ Alice nodded in acknowledgement of the unexpected kindness. Edith might be going through the worst night of her life but she would not be alone.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Edith was as good as her word. She rose the next morning, ate a very hurried breakfast and then set off on her bike, hardly speaking to anyone but with a face etched with determination. She had managed a few hours’ sleep thanks to the mixture of cocoa and sherry, and had no desire to hang around the home.
Alice was fastening her cloak before leaving herself when the telephone rang. Knowing this would most likely be a request for an urgent appointment, she picked up the Bakelite receiver. ‘Victory Walk nurses’ home, how may I help you?’ She reached for the pencil and notepad that were always kept alongside the telephone so that no messages ever went astray, fully expecting it to be a member of the public or one of the regular local doctors.
Instead, a distant voice said over a crackly line: ‘Alice? Is that you?’
Alice gasped. ‘Joe! Where are you?’
There was a cough from the other end of the line. ‘Look, I know your line isn’t for social calls but I won’t be long – in fact I can’t be. I have just a few minutes spare while in port, and I wanted to see how you were, and that you’d heard the news.’
Alice glanced around, but there was nobody else in the hallway for once. All the nurses knew they were not to take or make personal calls except in an extreme emergency – and yet, wasn’t this close to being one? Especially after what Gwen had said last night, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Joe to ring off. She found she didn’t want to either.
‘Yes, we’ve heard,’ she said quietly. ‘Your father came round yesterday evening.’
A brief silence fell on the other end of the line. ‘How was he?’ Joe asked, his voice thick with emotion.
‘Bearing up,’ Alice assured him. ‘He wanted Edith to hear it from him, not from a rumour. Then he was off to do his ARP shift. He wouldn’t miss it.’
Joe exhaled loudly. ‘No. No, he wouldn’t. And Edith – how is she?’
Alice felt a sob rising in her throat and choked it down again. ‘She’s heartbroken, of course. I think they’d been planning a future together and hadn’t announced anything yet. But she’s gone off this morning to her first patient, same as usual – she won’t take time off.’
‘That’s good.’ Joe sighed. ‘That’s what Harry would have wanted. He thought the world of her, you know. God knows he was no stranger to women but, once he met her, he changed. You’re right, he wanted to marry her. They just didn’t get around to telling us all, they thought it was too soon.’
‘They thought they’d have all the time in the world,’ Alice breathed, her heart constricting again at the unfairness of it. It occurred to her that not only had Joe lost his brother – he’d also lost his best friend. The two of them had understood each other so well, despite their many differences. He would have to face the future without him now.
‘And how about you, Alice?’ Joe asked, his voice full of obvious concern despite the bad line. ‘How are you coping in the middle of all this?’
Alice tried to laugh. ‘Don’t worry about me, Joe. I’m all right.’ She could imagine his face, anxious about his family and clouded with sorrow, but still with that strong resolve to do his duty.
‘I wish I could be there with you,’ he said suddenly, and she was reminded of that moment at Christmas when the air had seemed to change between them. ‘With all of you,’ he amended hastily. ‘But I can’t.’ Joe paused and Alice sensed again that he was about to say something, so she waited.
Joe’s next words came out quickly before she could speak. ‘Billy tol
d me he saw you out with your boyfriend, the doctor. It’s nice you’ve got someone special, but can we still be friends, Alice, look out for each other?’
Alice now realised what Joe must have thought. ‘Dr McGillicuddy is an old friend of mine, from Liverpool. It’s not like that at all,’ she said, strangely happy to be able to reassure him.
‘But I thought … Billy said he looked like a matinee idol.’ He laughed.
Alice laughed, ‘He might well do, but some things are more important than that.’
‘And what’s important to you, Alice?’ Joe asked, and Alice knew instinctively what he meant, without him needing to spell it out. She knew she had to choose her words carefully; Joe meant a lot to her and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings or give him the wrong impression.
‘Friendship. I need a friend, Joe, a good one like you.’
She could on hear the crackle of the line and in the silence she worried that Joe had gone. ‘Are you still there, Joe?’ she asked anxiously.
‘I’m still here, Alice, because I need a friend too. We can be that for each other, in these uncertain times, can’t we?’
Alice smiled into the phone. ‘We can. I’d like that. More than anything.’
‘It’s a deal, Alice. Look, I can’t tell you where I’m going but I’d better get back to the ship now. You’ll write, won’t you? Let me know how Edith gets on – and how you are.’
At that moment, Alice wanted to be there for Joe more than anything else in the world. She couldn’t make up for Harry’s death but she could be the one he came to when he wanted comfort, or to share a story, or just to say hello. She was suddenly desperate that he should know this, that he wouldn’t feel so alone out on the seas, or wherever his duty took him. ‘I’ll go to see your family soon too,’ she promised. ‘Look after yourself, Joe. I’ll be thinking of you all the time. I’ll keep the lucky clover safe, and maybe that’ll help you to sail safely and come home in one piece.’