Primrose Square

by Anne Douglas

  ‘Oh, well, could be worse,’ he said with a smile and a shrug, when Hessie and Elinor came to visit him in his hospital ward. ‘At least I’ve still got the arm, eh? I reckon I’ve been lucky to have lasted so long without trouble.’

  ‘This battle must surely be one of the worst you’ve been in, though,’ Elinor commented, and saw, for the first time in her brother’s face, the same sort of shutter she had seen descend on the faces of so many wounded men.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said hastily. ‘I know you don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Aye, if you don’t mind, I won’t. Thing is, my method of switching off things I don’t want to remember is no’ working at the minute. Maybe when time goes by, eh?’

  He closed his eyes and Hessie, nodding to Elinor, was rising to leave, saying he should rest, when a nurse brought two more visitors.

  ‘Now, somebody’ll have to move,’ she said briskly. ‘Only two at a bed, if you please.’

  ‘Why, Freda!’ cried Hessie, seeing Mrs Elder and Sally advancing towards Corrie’s bedside, carrying a bunch of chrysanthemums. ‘I never knew you were coming!’

  ‘Sorry, dear, I should’ve said. I’ve shut the shop, so we’ll no’ be staying long, but we wanted to bring your laddie some flowers, and we thought you wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘Och, no, we’re just going. And my, your flowers are lovely.’

  ‘Lovely,’ Elinor agreed, smiling at Sally, who was looking flushed and very pretty, as Corrie opened his eyes and gazed at her in surprise.

  ‘I’m Sally Elder,’ she said quickly. ‘You won’t know me – I’ve only just started working for Ma – but I’ve seen your photo. I was going to write to you . . .’ Her flush deepened. ‘Only I didn’t know what you’d think.’

  ‘I can tell you, I’d have thought a letter was grand!’

  ‘Oh, well – wish I’d written, then.’ Sally gave a radiant smile. ‘Anyway, Ma and me, we got you some flowers.’

  ‘To maybe brighten up the ward,’ her mother put in, showing Corrie the chrysanthemums. ‘Reckon they should last a while, eh?’

  ‘They’re beautiful,’ murmured Corrie. ‘Thank you very much.’

  ‘I’ll find some water for ’em, eh?’ Freda suggested, as Hessie and Elinor kissed Corrie’s cheek and said they’d be back tomorrow. ‘Then I’ll away, as the laddie looks like he should sleep.

  ‘So I’d better go, too,’ Sally whispered, but Corrie’s head moved on the pillow.

  ‘No, don’t go,’ he murmured. ‘No’ just yet.’

  ‘Looks like he’s got an admirer, eh?’ Hessie whispered to Elinor as they left the ward. ‘But Sally’s a sweet girl and would make a grand wife. Shirt making, collars and cuffs needing turning, anything like that, she could do – she’s wonderful with her needle, just like her ma.’

  ‘Collars and cuffs needing turning?’ Elinor laughed. ‘Just what’s needed in a wife, I’m sure!’

  ‘Well, it’s true, Elinor. You get a woman who can sew, she’ll be handy at everything, is what I say. And a man needs a handy wife.’

  ‘She’s very pretty, too. That’s what Corrie will notice.’

  ‘Just as long as he’s spared,’ Hessie said bleakly. ‘Think of all the lassies who’ll never have husbands, eh?’

  She gave Elinor a sharp look as they came out of the hospital into a sunny afternoon, finding the freshness of the air a relief after the hospital atmosphere.

  ‘That’ll no’ be you, of course, if you go ahead with this idea of marrying Barry. I think you’d be better off on your own.’

  So do I, thought Elinor but made no reply, and was glad when Hessie changed the subject by asking after Tam. Had he come through the battle all right?

  ‘So far,’ Elinor told her. ‘But the battle’s going to go on for months. Brenda’s just living from day to day.’

  ‘Like most people,’ said Hessie.

  Only a few days later, Elinor received a card from Barry, saying that he was back in Edinburgh and would be calling at the Primrose the following afternoon.

  ‘Watch out for me, walking in on my two legs,’ he wrote. ‘I want to see the looks on all the faces. Yours, too, sweetheart, but I want you to come round to the flat, so we can talk. Can’t wait to see you. Love, Barry.’

  Sixty-One

  As soon as she saw him, standing in the entrance hall of the Primrose, so straight, so proud, Elinor’s eyes stung with tears. She had never really thought of how he would look out of his wheelchair, away from his crutches, but now she realized that his freedom to stand alone had put the clock back, had turned him again into the Barry she once knew.

  As members of staff gathered around him, clapping and even cheering, she dashed the tears from her eyes and began clapping with the rest, delighted as they were, to have something to cheer about at last.

  ‘Barry, you are one of our successes,’ Major Henderson told him, widely smiling. ‘You’re proof that if you stick at something, you’ll get there, and we’re proud of you.’

  ‘Absolutely right,’ chimed Colonel Shannon. ‘The major is absolutely right. You worked for it, Corporal Howat, and you got it. Bravo!’

  ‘I didn’t do it alone, sir,’ Barry said firmly. ‘And I want to thank everybody here for all their help – especially the major and Elinor here. They were that patient – well, I don’t know how they put up with me. And then the folk down at Queen Mary’s, they were wonderful. Miracle workers is what they were, but so are you folk here. Deepest thanks to all.’ He waved his hand. ‘Anybody want to see me walk?’

  Everyone stood back as he slowly and stiffly moved down the hall, breathing hard, concentrating on every step, but getting to the far wall before he stopped and turned.

  ‘Well, what d’you think?’

  There were cries of ‘Well done!’ and more clapping, even from Matron, before the staff began slowly returning to work.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ Elinor whispered to Barry. ‘But I must tell you how wonderful it is to see you on your feet, Barry. I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘I’ve to see Major Henderson now – some formalities to go through before I’m signed out of here – but I’ll be at the flat tomorrow afternoon. Is that no’ your time off? Maybe you could come round? Bettina will be at work, but I’ll put the kettle on.’

  ‘I’ll be there,’ Elinor promised.

  For some time, back at work, she felt quite euphoric over Barry’s success, but gradually the feeling faded and she began to worry. Though it was true that she was proud of him, and also true that he seemed his old self, her old feelings for him still had not come back. Heady and exciting, it was never meant to last, as she’d discovered, and would never return.

  So, what if tomorrow he told her he wanted to fix a date for their wedding? What would she say? He seemed to be so well, no longer in any danger; maybe there was no need to marry him. Maybe she would be safe, just to say no. Unless . . . Unless he’d been relying on their marrying all the time he’d been doing his training? Unless he could still go back to what he’d been, without her support?

  No, no, he had his new leg, he would be all right. But the thought still came – supposing he wasn’t? How would she ever be able to let him down? All she could do was see what happened tomorrow. And hope.

  The first things she saw, when she arrived at the Howats’ flat, were Barry’s crutches propped against the wall. At her look of surprise, he shrugged.

  ‘Insurance, Elinor. If anything happens to the new leg, where would I be?’

  ‘Oh, I see. But nothing will happen to your leg, will it?’

  ‘I’m a boy scout, I’m prepared. But come on in and let me look at you.’

  When she had slipped off her jacket and was putting up her hands to tidy her hair, he took her hands down and studied her so long, she flushed and moved away.

  ‘Pretty as ever,’ he declared. ‘No, more than pretty. Beautiful, I’d say, is the word for you.’

  ‘Oh, that’s enough.’ She took a seat. ‘No need to flat
ter me. I thought you wanted to talk.’

  ‘Tea first, talk afterwards. Then, if you’re good, I might play for you.’

  ‘Oh, Barry, you’re playing the piano again?’ As she looked across to the old piano in the corner, Elinor’s eyes brightened. ‘You’re really better, then?’

  ‘I am. Now, you wait there and I’ll put the kettle on.’

  ‘Amazing,’ Elinor said, laughing. ‘I mean, you making tea.’

  ‘I’m a changed man,’ said Barry.

  With his tea, they had potted meat sandwiches and oatcakes, but no cake, as Bettina had left a message to say she’d no eggs.

  ‘Lucky to have anything, the way things are going,’ Elinor commented. ‘Food’s getting harder and harder to find these days. They say we’ll end up with rationing.’

  ‘All because of the U-boats’ blockade, but if Haig ever gets to destroy their bases, it’ll be a miracle. All that fighting in Flanders’ll get nowhere.’ Barry took Elinor’s hand and led her to the sofa, still protected with its cover. ‘But let’s leave that, eh?’

  Now it comes, she thought. Now will come the wedding talk. As she turned her dark eyes on him, trying to show no apprehension, he lit a cigarette.

  ‘I’ll start straight in,’ he began, after smoking for a few moments. ‘Tell you what’s in my mind.’

  ‘I’m all ears,’ she said, with a light laugh that sounded false even to her.

  But having said he’d begin straight away, Barry seemed to falter, glancing at her and away, then carefully studying his cigarette.

  ‘Go on, then,’ she said at last, and he cleared his throat.

  ‘Thing is, when I was down at Queen Mary’s, I got to thinking, you know, about us.’

  ‘Yes? What about us?’

  ‘Well, maybe I mean you. I got to thinking, maybe what we’d decided was a bit hard on you. All right for me, but maybe it was asking too much of you.’

  Elinor, sitting very still, her hands folded on her lap, had begun very slightly to tremble. What was he trying to tell her? She thought she knew, but couldn’t be sure. Couldn’t hope too soon.

  ‘You’re talking about getting wed?’ she asked slowly.

  ‘Aye. Getting wed.’ He looked at her again, then lowered his eyes. ‘When I asked you to marry me, I think I wasn’t – you know – myself. I was just so wrapped up in how I felt, I didn’t consider you at all.’

  ‘You were ill, Barry. You had to consider yourself.’

  ‘Aye, well I did, eh? I mean, where did I get the damned cheek to ask you to saddle yourself with me? A chap who couldn’t even stand up straight at the time? What in God’s name ever made you take me on?’

  She hesitated, trying to think how best to put it.

  ‘I suppose . . . I was afraid – of what might happen.’

  ‘Because I threatened to end it all, if you didn’t?’ Barry drew on his cigarette. ‘They call that blackmail.’ He raised his eyes and gave her a long, cautious look. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t have tried it on, if it hadn’t been for . . . for remembering you cared for me once. You did, eh?’

  She knew he was trying to discover her present feelings. She knew she could tell him.

  ‘I did,’ she agreed. ‘But that was a long time ago.’

  ‘So, when you said you’d marry me, you didn’t feel the same? It was just to help me? Elinor, you were crazy, eh? Why’d you do it? Why’d I let you?’

  ‘I told you, you were ill. I wanted to protect you.’

  He sat back, shaking his head. Looked at his cigarette and stubbed it out in one of Bettina’s ashtrays.

  ‘Elinor, I don’t know what to say. That you’d do that for me – well, I didn’t deserve it. You should’ve just told me what to do. Put up with things the way other fellows do, or go jump in the sea. Why should you sacrifice yourself for me?’

  ‘We were friends. I wanted you to be safe – get better.’

  ‘You were sorry for me, that was it. You were sorry enough to take me on, when you didn’t love me. I still canna get over that.’

  ‘You’d made a sacrifice yourself,’ she said in a low voice. ‘All you men make sacrifices.’

  He reached over and took her hand, held it hard.

  ‘Elinor, I meant what I said – I’ll be for ever grateful for what you did for me – and what you would’ve done. I’ll never forget it. But there’s no need to do any more. You see what I mean?’

  ‘I see what you mean.’

  ‘And you’re happy about it?’

  ‘I’m quite happy. We’re friends and I’m glad. And glad you’re better and have your new leg and everything.’ She kissed his cheek and stood up. ‘Think I’d better be going, eh? Thanks for the tea.’

  ‘Hey, did I no’ say I’d play for you? The piano’s in a state – needs a damn good tuning, but come on, I’ll give it a go.’

  As she had done once before, she stood close, watching as he sat down and touched the keys, which were in truth jangly, but not enough to deter him.

  ‘Just one of my selections,’ he said with a grin, beginning to play ‘Keep the Home Fires Burning’, before moving on to other wartime favourites and popular music-hall songs. Finally, he gave a resounding performance of Scottish reel music and leaped up from his stool as Elinor clapped and clapped.

  ‘Nothing too sad, eh?’ he said, seeming as cheerful as she ever remembered him. ‘Everybody likes a good tune and it’s grand to be able to play again. I’m even earning a few bob at the pubs, just like the old days. That’s before I report for duty at HQ, of course.’

  ‘What work will you be doing?’

  ‘Oh, handing out equipment, stores, uniforms – that kind of thing. No paperwork, thank God. And when the war is over, I’m going to try for the tool-making I told you about. Should be all right for that, eh?’

  ‘You’ll be all right,’ she told him, moving to the door,

  ‘So will you,’ he said quietly, following her. ‘Somebody’s going to snap you up, you know. Somebody who deserves you, and all. You know who I think has a soft spot for you? Major Henderson.’

  ‘Major Henderson? That’s a piece of nonsense, if ever I heard one.’

  ‘No, you can sometimes tell about these things, eh? And I know he’s no’ young – must be thirty-seven if he’s a day – but he’s a grand chap. No’ married, either. He’d be perfect for you, Elinor. If that tutor fellow is really out of things.’

  ‘I told you, he has someone else. In fact, he’s engaged.’

  ‘To the lady ambulance driver? Bet that’s a mistake.’

  We all make mistakes, thought Elinor ruefully.

  ‘I’ll walk back with you,’ Barry offered after a moment, but she shook her head.

  ‘No, I don’t think you should try to do too much at this stage. I’ll be all right.’

  ‘And can go faster?’ he asked wryly. ‘But this isn’t goodbye, eh? We’ll meet again?’

  ‘Sure we will.’

  They knew they might not, but kissed, smiled, and parted, Elinor walking swiftly away, looking back once to wave, and Barry, watching, then turning into the house and closing the door.

  Walking home more slowly, Elinor was wondering if it could really be true, that Barry had released her? That she was, in fact, free?

  At first, she couldn’t believe it, but as she began gradually to accept that he no longer wanted marriage, and that she need worry no more about letting him down, she found her spirits rising. So sweet was the relief, she might almost have felt happy, except that this was not a time for happiness, and she didn’t expect it, anyway.

  How she wished that Barry had not mentioned Stephen, which she found so painful. And then to talk of Major Henderson in that silly fashion! Now, when she went into work, she wouldn’t be able to look him in the face. Though she would have to tell him she was no longer engaged to Barry and knew he’d be relieved. It would be easier all round, if a patient, even an ex-patient, was not marrying one of the hospital workers.

  It was Stephen who was s
till in her mind, however, by the time she reached home. Why ever should Barry believe his engagement to be a mistake? He didn’t know one thing about it, and neither did she. Obviously, though, Stephen must be happy. Obviously, he had forgotten whatever he had once felt for her, and she should try to feel the same. As though that were possible.

  Might she see him again, though, just once, to know that he was safe? Was that too much to ask? Probably.

  Sixty-Two

  ‘Over by Christmas,’ they’d said of the war in 1914. But when yet another Christmas rolled round in 1917, no one spoke of an ending. It was as though they’d come to accept that they might always be in a state of war, for there never seemed even a chance of a breakthrough. Why, even the entry of America into the war against Germany had not so far made a difference. No doubt it would, eventually, but for Christmas 1917, hope of any change was in short supply.

  Still, efforts were occasionally made to try to appear festive. At the Primrose, for instance, it had been decided to hold a party for staff and patients, with dancing in the dining room to a wind-up gramophone, a singsong to the old piano, played by Major Brown, sausage rolls and sandwiches provided by the army cooks. Matron, to everyone’s surprise, had contributed a large Christmas cake, without icing, alas, but was said to include brandy – the only alcohol permitted.

  ‘Heavens, don’t see us getting drunk on that!’ laughed Brenda, who was in wonderfully good spirits with Tam, home on leave, thin but fit, at her side.

  ‘Who needs drink?’ he cried, taking her on to the floor for the next dance. ‘We’re having a grand time, anyway.’

  ‘Oh, it’s so wonderful to see Tam looking so well,’ Elinor murmured, as Major Henderson joined her in watching the dancing. ‘I mean, after all he’s been through.’