Some Sunny Day

by Madge Lambert

  ‘Not sure about that,’ he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

  Suddenly a group of Gurkhas came marching down the hill in flamboyant style with the one-time Governor General’s residence providing a spectacular background and three ladies in traditional Nepalese dress adding colour and elegance. Whistles blew, drums were beaten and kukris flashed in the evening sun as the ferocious little charmers and their graceful companions whirled and twirled their way towards the wards. The smiling faces and enthusiastic applause from all wards underlined what a success the Gurkhas had been.

  Reverend Davies had sworn Havildar Bahadur to secrecy before asking if his Gurkhas could ‘put on a bit of a show’ for the hospital patients. Agreement had been reached with the British troops who guarded the hospital complex that they would keep an eye on the nurses’ bashas while the Gurkhas ‘were otherwise engaged’.

  The Rev had one more task to complete as the concert continued. ‘It is my great privilege,’ he said, addressing all the patients, nurses and Gurkhas, ‘to introduce Victoria, a lady who I am sure will conjure visions of a green and pleasant land that many of us here today call home.’

  Victoria was the seventy-year-old widow of a one-time British colonial civil servant who was on an extended visit to old friends who once ran a tea plantation. In her younger days back in England she was a much admired soprano in Cheshire operatic society circles.

  ‘I am told she has the voice of an angel,’ smiled Reverend Davies, ‘so judge for yourself!’

  The wind had eased to a whisper and only the gentle rustle of leaves accompanied Victoria’s hauntingly beautiful version of ‘Silent Night’ as she stood shoulder to shoulder with the nurses, whose timing when they joined in to sing ‘sleep in heavenly peace’ was so perfect it could have been rehearsed.

  The grand old lady from the days of the Raj sang non-stop for almost forty minutes. Eventually she appeared to be tiring so said, ‘I think it’s high time these lovely girls in my chorus had something cold to drink.’ Cheers broke out instantly from the boys in the wards for their beloved nurses.

  ‘Now then,’ said Victoria, ‘I have promised to end the concert with the three most popular requests so let’s get on with it!’

  First came a rousing version of ‘Land of Hope and Glory’, which was followed by ‘Jerusalem’, in which she expertly and generously conceded centre stage to the nurses for the last two lines:

  ‘Till we have built Jerusalem

  In England’s green and pleasant land’

  Victoria joined the applause for the nurses and then announced that there would be one more song.

  ‘I’m not sure if you boys will have heard this one,’ she smiled, ‘and please forgive me for not being Vera Lynn, but here we go . . .’

  As she began to sing ‘We’ll Meet Again’ the boys in the wards roared their approval and happily joined in to provide an emotional, if somewhat out-of-tune, end to a thoroughly memorable Christmas concert that left Madge and the girls hot and sticky, but delighted that the patients were so happy.

  ‘Only one thing went wrong,’ Madge told a heavily perspiring Vera.

  ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ Vera replied. ‘It couldn’t have gone any better!’

  ‘Basil couldn’t get the time off to be here and it’s such a shame because Victoria was the lady who sang so beautifully at that Movements mess dance I told you about. He’s so patriotic and loves “Land of Hope and Glory” and “Jerusalem”,’ said Madge.

  ‘It certainly was a shame,’ said Reverend Davies, ‘because he was the man who did all the work in arranging for Victoria to sing here. He even organised her transport.’

  ‘Basil? You mean my Basil?’ asked Madge.

  ‘Yes, Captain Lambert,’ said the Padre. ‘When he heard about your Christmas concert for the troops at 56 IGH he found out that Victoria was still in Chittagong and asked her if she would be so kind as to spend an hour or so entertaining the patients. She agreed without the slightest hesitation. He did a splendid job and certainly knows how to keep a secret,’ added Reverend Davies with a wink.

  ‘He didn’t drop even the slightest hint about what he was up to,’ said a very proud Madge to Vera and the other girls as they walked over to the wards and started moving the boys from the verandas.

  The soldiers, who had clearly enjoyed the afternoon fun, were full of smiles and jokey banter. It was no mean task to help the boys back into bed and Madge was more than a little relieved when her long but thoroughly rewarding shift came to an end. More to the point, it meant she could stroll back up to her basha, clean up and change from her nurse’s uniform into that piqué dress she had bought in Poona, and see Basil for dinner.

  First of all, she wanted to thank him for the lovely surprise in arranging for Victoria to sing at the carol concert. But she hadn’t seen him for two whole days and she also wanted to tell him about a surprise invitation they had received. What’s more, he had said that he had something special to discuss with her on Christmas Day. Try as she might, she couldn’t work out what it could be, but her heart sang at the thought of seeing him and she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else on this special day.

  18

  Auld Lang Syne

  ‘It was such a shame you couldn’t get away for the carol concert,’ Madge told Basil as they sat having a drink on Christmas night at the end of a day that had left them both so tired they decided to postpone their festive celebrations until New Year’s Eve.

  ‘The patients all loved the carols and the Gurkhas and Victoria’s beautiful singing in particular,’ said Madge. ‘Thank you, Basil, for that wonderful surprise. Funnily enough, it wasn’t the last surprise of the night because Sally has asked me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding!’

  ‘Sally? I don’t recognise the name.’

  Madge nodded in agreement. ‘It did come as something of a shock. She was the fourth girl in our cabin on the Strathnaver, and a bit of a mystery really. The truth is, I don’t know her all that well, but the good thing is that the actual marriage will be at a church in Chittagong and the reception will be in the hall of the old Governor’s residence overlooking 56 IGH, which means no travelling. I haven’t even met her fiancé yet, but Sally really is lovely so I’m sure he will be too.’

  ‘You kept that one up your sleeve,’ said Basil.

  ‘Not really,’ replied Madge, ‘I’ve only just found out myself because when I had a quick cup of tea with Vera at the end of today’s shift there was a letter for me from Sally saying that she was getting married and asking if I would do her the honour of being a bridesmaid. She’s such a nice girl and has had such a sad couple of years I couldn’t refuse. Sally has also asked Vera to be her other bridesmaid. You will come, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course. But you must be careful about when the wedding is,’ Basil said with a twinkle in his eye. ‘We’ve worked for months without a break and I couldn’t help but wonder if you might enjoy a holiday in Calcutta in the New Year.’

  ‘A holiday!’ Madge marvelled at the idea. ‘Do you think we could?’ Madge knew that they were allowed time off but most of the girls spent it shopping or going out for meals. A trip to Calcutta with Basil would be such a treat.

  A few days later they met again when they went to see a pantomime, IGH & LOW, at a local theatre, which was a joint effort between the two hospitals. Madge was particularly keen to see it because the only two women in the cast were both VADs. The couple joined in enthusiastically with the boos and cheers and were still laughing as they left the theatre.

  They then went on to attend a six-course feast on New Year’s Eve at the United Services Club in Chittagong. Fittingly, at a traditional Scottish celebration, several officers were wearing kilts and the evening got underway with a choice of several rather fiery cocktails. The meal started with grapefruit and was followed by a good thick Scotch broth. The third course was fried fish with game crisps and the main course of the evening was roast stuffed goose with apple sauce, new potatoes
, cauliflower and green peas. Plum pudding came with lively brandy sauce and finally they were served a savoury Scotch woodcock (scrambled eggs on toast spread with anchovy paste).

  ‘That was lovely,’ Madge told Basil. ‘I can’t say I’d ever tried Scotch woodcock before tonight and I thought the anchovy added the most delicious bite. I have to tell you, this feels like pure luxury. I can’t remember the last time I ate so well. I’m not actually sure I ever have!’

  There was a choice of French or Italian wines and sherry and port were also available, along with curaçao and crème de menthe. Basil had even arranged for the pair to have Christmas crackers on the table – a real luxury.

  As they waited for the port to be served Madge looked around at couples determined to enjoy themselves on what, for all the world, could have been a most enjoyable New Year’s Eve celebration dinner in one of the Home Counties, Edinburgh or Belfast. Madge allowed her mind to wander, and began dreaming of the kind of future she hoped for. She wanted an end to the suffering of the boys on the wards, and she wanted to be with Mum, Doris and Doreen. But most of all, she found as she gazed across at Basil, she wanted a future that included the kind and charming man who was sitting opposite her. Oh, stop daydreaming, Madge, she admonished herself. You don’t even know if he feels the same way so it’s pointless getting carried away with yourself – especially as the war isn’t over yet!

  ‘A penny for your thoughts?’ She looked up at a smiling and inquisitive Basil, and she smiled back at him.

  ‘Sorry,’ she replied, ‘I was miles away.’ But she was saved from having to explain any further as six proud Scots, with their arms aloft and their kilts gently swaying, encouraged people onto the dance floor to join an emotional and increasingly rousing version of ‘Auld Lang Syne’.

  Basil put his arm round her waist and looked deep into her eyes as they joined in the last verse.

  ‘And there’s a hand my trusty friend

  And give me a hand of thine!

  And we’ll take a right good-will draught,

  For Auld Lang Syne.’

  The 11 p.m. curfew had been put back to 1 a.m. for the nurses at 56 IGH yet it irritated Madge that such a wonderful evening had to draw to a close when there were still so many things to say to Basil.

  As the ancient taxi bumped and growled its way back to the hospital complex she ended the evening with a little story that made Basil laugh out loud.

  ‘I wrote to Mum to tell her that there had been a lot of moans and groans from the nurses about the hospital curfew but added that I did realise it was for our own safety,’ said Madge. ‘When she wrote back she said, “You may be twenty-one now, my girl, but it will still do you the world of good to get to bed at a reasonable time instead of being out gallivanting at all hours of the night!”’

  ‘I haven’t even met your mum yet,’ smiled Basil, ‘but I like her already!’

  Madge’s heart leapt at Basil’s reply. He’s intending to meet my mum. He must see us having a future then. For the first time she was 100 per cent sure that this wasn’t a romance that had bloomed because of the heat of India and the intensity of war. That must mean that he feels the same way I do. She felt a warm glow spread through her as she allowed herself to begin daydreaming all over again.

  19

  A Moonlight Serenade

  While Madge had been genuinely surprised at the invitation from Sally the truth was she had only been a bridesmaid once before and she was very much looking forward to the event as the weeks counted down to the nuptials. Everything seemed to be going smoothly enough because she had been promised the day off by Matron Ferguson; the boys on the wards had been teasing her since the news had got out.

  ‘Always the bridesmaid, Madge, never the bride. You’re getting past it at twenty-one, old girl.’ It was exactly the sort of leg-pulling that would have gone on with the soldiers’ adored younger sisters had they been at home and, far from worrying her, the jibes made Madge laugh. Her one concern, as the wedding approached, was that there were hardly any clothes shops in Chittagong. Vera didn’t bat an eyelid about the teasing in the wards because she was more than capable of giving as good as she got but, like Madge, she was flummoxed over what to wear as a bridesmaid for the wedding.

  One afternoon she and Vera were discussing their problem in the nurses’ mess. Sister Blossom overheard and suggested that maybe they should buy matching saris and have them customised. ‘All you have to do is to show one of our local seamstresses a picture of what you would like and she will copy it,’ said Blossom. The hunt was on!

  Madge and Vera, after trying for days to arrange an afternoon when they had downtime from the hospital, finally pencilled in their shopping trip. Lunch, of course, was mandatory and it gave them a chance to discuss the latest twist in the complex life of the very likeable, but very mysterious, Sally Mallins.

  ‘We don’t even know how she met her fiancé!’ said Vera. ‘The last time we saw her she was heartbreakingly lonely. Now she’s all set to get married.’

  ‘It’s certainly a huge change,’ said Madge, ‘but after all the turmoil she’s been through she deserves some happiness.’

  ‘Oh, she does,’ said Vera. ‘I can’t imagine being so swept off my feet I would marry a man I’d just met, but perhaps she’s known him a while.’

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ said Madge, ‘and I reckon it’s time we got going or we’re never going to find anything to wear.’

  There were just two weeks until the wedding, but try as they might, the girls couldn’t find what they wanted. After hours of poring over fabrics in hot, stuffy shops, they decided to try one last store, which from the wooden front door looked as if it had once been a little house. The moment they walked in Madge saw a gorgeous heliotrope pink-purple sari hanging on the wall. She noticed Vera looking at it too but, miracle of miracles, at the back of the musty old store there was another. They both tried them on, bought one each and took them back to show Sister Blossom, who offered to arrange an appointment with a seamstress.

  ‘What would we do without you, Blossom!’ Madge exclaimed.

  Vera had her nose buried in a ‘borrowed’ copy of the Coronet magazine that had been left unattended at one of the posh cocktail parties she frequented. She showed Madge various pictures and, after lengthy discussions, the bridesmaids decided to ask if an elegant Ginger Rogers-style gown could be copied.

  They made an appointment to see Zynah, the seamstress, and were taken to a dingy little room at the back of a grocery store where she had a small workshop. Vera looked at Madge pointedly, and she could tell they were both wondering if they had done the right thing.

  ‘Not sure about this place,’ whispered Madge.

  ‘It’s a bit dusty and I think from the smell there’s a hint of mould,’ said Vera. ‘Not the best place to get dresses made for a wedding.’

  The girls were well aware that while the material and the colour of the sari was exactly what they wanted, the cut of it was very different to the design to be copied from Coronet magazine. So they began to feel rather nervous when nothing was measured as they stood in the saris after changing from their khaki uniforms. No chalk marks were made. Everything was ‘nipped and tucked’ with a multitude of pins.

  ‘Please, memsahibs,’ said Zynah, ‘be very careful removing your dresses in case the pins fall off.’

  Two days later Sister Blossom told them that Zynah had sent a message to ask if they would be so kind as to return to her workshop for a fitting. The girls were worried about what would be waiting for them so they went over as soon as their shift came to an end. The first thing Madge noticed when she tried on her new gown was the beautiful, hand-made buttons that ran from the base of the neck down the spine. All thirty-six of them.

  ‘This is absolutely stunning,’ Madge whispered over the curtain. ‘And have you seen the buttons?’ The cherry-sized buttons, fastened by loops, were covered with the same material as the girls’ dresses. The box of pins came out again, but
only minor alterations were necessary before the gowns were ready to take away.

  ‘Memsahibs,’ said Zynah, ‘you look very beautiful in your gowns, but I have a suggestion that I hope will bring great pleasure.’ Vera looked at Madge and gave an almost imperceptible shrug of her shoulders as two lengths of yellow silk sashes suddenly appeared as if by magic. ‘Please lift your arms,’ said the seamstress, as she walked behind Madge and proceeded to wrap a hand-stitched sash around her waist.

  Madge looked at herself in the dusty full-length mirror. The yellow contrasted perfectly with the heliotrope and the sash was ever so flattering for the figure.

  ‘Very slimming,’ smiled Madge.

  Vera grinned at her and Madge knew she had the seal of approval. I wonder what Basil will think, she thought. That is, if he can get the day off.

  Zynah carefully wrapped the gowns in brown paper. They paid the bill, making sure to include a sizeable tip and a big hug for the seamstress who had put in an enormous amount of work to turn the saris into excellent copies of the Ginger Rogers gown.

  ‘Zynah, you’re a miracle worker,’ Madge said. ‘Perhaps, with enough coconut oil, we won’t look half bad at all!’

  As the pair strolled happily back to the hospital complex, they considered their next problem: footwear. Vera was worried that if she wore high heels they might catch the back of the full-length gown. Madge knew she would be shouted down for her suggestion, but said it anyway.

  ‘There’s going to be a lot of standing around in the church and then at the reception,’ she pointed out. ‘Our dresses are full length so nobody will be able to see what sort of shoes we’ll be wearing. I wonder if our nurses’ lace-ups would be best . . .’

  ‘Feel free, darling!’ laughed Vera as they finally reached their bashas.

  With the three girls on different work patterns there was no wedding rehearsal or indeed any detailed discussion about how the day would go. Even more frustrating for the bridesmaids was that they still didn’t have a clue how the whirlwind romance had got underway.