Christmas for the District Nurses

by Annie Groves

The older woman pursed her lips as she tried to remember. ‘There’s a daughter, a couple of years older than you, I would say. She got married before the war and moved away. Let me see now … Yorkshire, I think it was. Full of airs and graces as I seem to recall, never too keen to come back to visit her mother.’

  Peggy couldn’t help but think that if Mrs Bellings had been her mother she wouldn’t have been in any hurry to come home either.

  ‘Wait, now. She said something the other day.’ Mrs Cannon’s expression cleared. ‘It will be her nephew. She told me her sister’s boy had gone into the army and wanted to spend a part of his leave in London. Wants to enjoy the high life up in the West End, I dare say.’

  Edith nodded. ‘Well, good luck to him. Looks as if he could do with something to cheer him up. Come on, Peggy, let’s make the most of the weather.’

  ‘Yes, you go on and do that,’ said Mrs Cannon, shutting the door behind them.

  ‘Listen to that. Is it a blackbird?’ Edith came to a halt and looked up into the trees. ‘Just up there. Maybe your eyesight is better than mine.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Peggy, peering up into the branches. ‘Isn’t your work often detailed and delicate? And you don’t wear glasses.’

  Edith laughed. ‘I’m all right for close-up jobs. I had to take some stitches out earlier. Dr Patcham said I’d be good enough and just to keep a steady hand. As it turned out the patient was more nervous than I was and I spent so long reassuring her to get her to stop shaking, I didn’t have time to worry. She didn’t like needles. I told her, she’d have been in deep trouble if Dr Patcham hadn’t sewn up her arm, as she’d caught it on broken glass.’

  ‘Easy to do,’ said Peggy. They’d all had narrow escapes from similar incidents – there were so many smashed windows everywhere.

  Edith linked her arm through her friend’s and strolled on. ‘Hard to believe we’re at war on an evening like this,’ she sighed.

  ‘Apart from the trenches and sandbags,’ Peggy pointed out. ‘Oh, and the number of people in uniform.’ There were several men in air-force blue and some Wrens on the other side of the stretch of green.

  ‘All right, but you know what I mean.’

  ‘Yes,’ Peggy admitted. ‘Sorry, I’m just teasing. How about your own man in uniform – have you heard from Harry lately? It must be difficult, getting married then having to be apart directly afterwards.’

  ‘Well, you’d know,’ Edith replied.

  ‘Exactly, that’s why I asked,’ Peggy confessed.

  Edith walked a few paces before answering. ‘Well, of course we knew that this is what it would be like. There was no chance we could live together, or even be in the same city. He’s got a desk job now, so that’s something.’

  ‘Bet he hates that,’ Peggy said at once. ‘He never could sit still at a desk, even when we were at school. Always wanted to be up and doing something, or out playing football. He always used to say that desks were for people like Joe, not him.’

  Edith nodded. ‘He won’t say so in his letters, of course, but I have this horrible feeling you are right. He can’t go back to proper active service, though. I wish I could be with him to help but it’s not possible. So I write and tell him how much I miss him, and hope for the best. When I get my next leave, I’ll go and see him, but that won’t be for a while.’

  Peggy nodded and smiled wryly. ‘It’s hell, though, isn’t it. Now that you know what you’re missing.’

  Edith grinned. ‘It is. He’s everything I hoped for and more, and his injuries haven’t changed a thing. I just hope he keeps believing that too.’ They followed the curve of the path beneath more trees, with birds singing brightly overhead. ‘Anyway, what about you? Are you still writing to that GI?’

  Peggy gave a small smile. ‘Yes, I am. Do you think that it’s bad, too soon after Pete?’ Her voice became anxious as she asked the question.

  Edith shook her head. ‘None of my business. If he makes you happy, then why shouldn’t you? Dunkirk was almost three years ago. We’re not getting any younger either.’

  Peggy gazed up into the trees. ‘I know. But even so, James is special. He’s not like any old soldier I’ve been dancing with. He sent me some lovely soap for Christmas, I told you, didn’t I.’

  ‘Lucky you,’ said Edith, with heartfelt sincerity. ‘My hands are red and raw by the end of the week as we always have to wash in carbolic between patients. I’d love something really soft, but it’s so hard to find.’

  ‘That’s only one reason why he’s special,’ Peggy went on. ‘He sent me a Valentine’s card too, and he’d made it himself. Can you imagine a man doing that? He’d drawn a picture of a couple dancing, and she was in a spotty dress and he had a spotty tie. Just like the one I sent him for Christmas. It’s our little joke.’ She blushed a little, having got carried away with her description, as she hadn’t meant to tell anyone. ‘You know, like the Ink Spots. It’s silly but I don’t care.’

  Edith giggled. ‘You’ll have to get yourself a spotty dress then. He must be clever, to be able to draw like that. I wish I could.’

  Peggy twirled around. ‘He’s so kind and understanding. You’ll have to meet him the next time he comes to town. I sent him a card too, but I can’t draw for toffee. I got it down the market.’

  ‘It’s the thought that counts,’ Edith assured her. ‘So when is his next leave?’

  Peggy stopped twirling and grew more serious. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think he does either – I’m sure he’d tell me. It can’t come soon enough, if I’m honest.’ She blushed again, unsure if she should give away how deeply she was beginning to feel for the young man.

  But Edith had picked up on her tone. ‘You really like him, don’t you?’

  Peggy bit her lip. ‘Yes,’ she said, after a pause. The blackbirds were singing their hearts out in the branches above. ‘It’s not like when I first started walking out with Pete – that was completely different. We’d known each other at school; we had the same group of friends; we lived a few streets away from one another. This feels like … a leap into the unknown. He’s from a place I’ve only ever seen in films; he talks different, he looks different, and yet …’ She twisted her hands together. ‘It’s like I’ve known him for ever. It doesn’t make sense, I realise that.’

  Edith nodded sagely. ‘Sounds as if you’ve got it bad, Peggy. Well, good for you. It’s not every day that someone like that comes along. You’d better make the most of it.’

  Peggy exhaled deeply, even though she hadn’t been aware that she’d been holding her breath. ‘I’m so glad to hear you say that, Edie. I’ve been wondering and wondering what to do – whether I’m being daft, or letting him sweet-talk me like some of them do—’

  ‘He doesn’t sound like one of those types,’ Edith interrupted, knowing how her friend had been treated in the past.

  ‘And he’s a soldier, of course. Anything could happen.’ Peggy stated the obvious. ‘What if I do care for him and what if he feels the same – then he goes and gets killed too?’ She came to a halt and faced the nurse. ‘I don’t think I could survive that twice. It almost killed me too, when Pete died. Well, you know what it’s like more than most.’

  Edith agreed sombrely. ‘Yes, it’s the worst feeling ever. All the same,’ she took her friend’s arm again, ‘you can’t let that stop you. What if he does come through the fighting? What if you hadn’t made the most of what time you could have had? Wouldn’t you regret that more?’

  Peggy by now was almost in tears, the full realisation of how she felt dawning on her, and the impossibility of it – and the impossibility of saying no. ‘What do I do, Edie?’ she breathed. ‘What do I do?’

  Edith shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you, Peggy. Only you can decide. But, well, I know you, and you’ve never been shy of taking a risk.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Have you?’

  Peggy acknowledged what Edith was saying. Sometimes she’d taken silly risks, with servicemen she’d met when dancing or drinking down
the pub, but only because they didn’t really matter and she hadn’t felt that she mattered much either. Now the stakes were raised. She didn’t feel like that silly, desperate young woman any more.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It’s all about what I’d regret more, isn’t it? I don’t want to get hurt that badly again, I really don’t. But if I didn’t try – then I don’t want to be an old woman looking back and thinking I was too much of a coward to try again. I think he’s worth it, Edie.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ‘Evelyn, are you going to be much longer?’ Gladys stood in the cramped back yard outside her family’s small kitchen, waiting by the woodworm-riddled door to the privy they shared with all the other houses backing onto the yard. ‘I’m going to be late for the nurses if you don’t hurry up.’

  There was a coughing noise. Then her sister spoke, her voice weak but full of mockery. ‘Oh we can’t have that, can we? Can’t keep the precious bleeding nurses waiting for a minute or two.’

  Gladys moved from foot to foot in irritation. She knew they wouldn’t mind if she was five minutes late, but it was a point of pride. She loved it that they all knew they could rely on her. If by chance she was to be late, she would prefer it was for a better reason than her younger sister hogging the privy. She waited for another minute and then rapped on the splintered door. ‘Are you all right?’

  There came the sound of more coughing, and then another noise – the unpleasant sound of vomiting. Gladys winced. ‘Evelyn, what’s going on?’

  Evelyn cleared her throat. ‘There was something wrong with the water down the Boatman’s. Everyone said their drinks was tasting funny. Not that I had more than one,’ she added hastily.

  ‘Are you sure that’s what it is?’ Gladys called. ‘You haven’t gone and caught a bug, have you? I don’t want to infect anyone at the nurses’ home.’

  ‘That’s right, think of them before you think of me – of course they’re more important,’ Evelyn replied viciously. ‘Don’t you worry, it ain’t no bug. Now bugger off.’ She laughed feebly at the attempt at a joke.

  Gladys sighed and gave up, going back inside the house on the cool spring morning. In truth the proper bathroom at Victory Walk was much nicer, but she preferred to get straight to her work, not spend her first few minutes doing her ablutions. Well, today would have to be an exception. She grabbed her coat and bag in annoyance and set off on the short journey up the road, along the streets of small terraced houses packed closely together. She was still in good time; it was not long after daybreak and there were few people about. Some were clearly dressed for an early shift at the factories, others were most likely making their way home after a night fire-watching or on anti-aircraft duty.

  Evelyn had refused to talk about Max when Gladys pressed her for details after the dreadful night in the Boatman’s courtyard. Gladys could only hope that her sister would see sense and realise that the older man was using her. Yet Evelyn still seemed convinced that he would help her in her ambitions to go on the stage. For that, she appeared to be willing to put up with his attentions. Gladys shuddered.

  Her sister had taken to teasing her that she didn’t know what real life was like. In many ways she was right, as Gladys had hardly left Dalston and until recently had not met many people. Yet her contact with the district nurses and, even more, her evenings on duty at the first-aid post had changed all that. She might still be in Dalston, but the world and all its troubles were coming straight to her.

  It was quite possible that there had been a problem with the drinks at the Boatman’s. She had seen for herself what the standard of cleanliness was down there. It was also possible that her sister had been lying about how much she’d had. Gladys was willing to bet that Max was happy to lay on a few potent spirits in order to have his way with a more compliant Evelyn. He was just the sort of man who would see that as a good investment.

  Or Evelyn might be mistaken and she did have a bug after all. Gladys hoped not. She really did not want to bring infection into the nurses’ home. God knew that they faced enough of that in the course of their work.

  She pushed open the side door to the home and listened. Cook was up and about, judging by the clattering of pans in the kitchen. She would be preparing the porridge to see the nurses through their morning rounds on the district. ‘Won’t be long!’ Gladys called out, so that her colleague would know help was at hand. She hung up her coat on a hook on the back of the service-room door and put down her bag, dipping into it to retrieve a flannel. She might as well have a good quick wash in the luxury of the proper bathroom on the lower-ground floor of the home. It had hot water on tap – a real treat.

  Then there was the other explanation. Gladys caught sight of herself in the little mirror over the sink, which she had polished only yesterday. Her face was drawn with worry. Evelyn might taunt her about her lack of experience, but you couldn’t be around nurses for long without knowing why some women were sick in the mornings.

  Gladys didn’t know what she would do if Evelyn was expecting a baby. She doubted very much that Max would be any help if that turned out to be the case. Their small home was packed to the rafters with children as it was. She’d done her time looking after her siblings; she didn’t want to be responsible for another one. Would Evelyn be capable of raising a child? Lots of women younger than her were doing so – but they weren’t Evelyn, with her head in the clouds, relying on Gladys to make sure all the day-to-day practicalities were dealt with.

  People would look down on her and, by association, the whole family. Gladys sighed. Evelyn would be dragging her down again, just as she had begun to pull herself out of poverty, with her Civil Nursing Reserve training. She was well on her way to becoming respectable – it wasn’t fair. Surely she deserved her chance at life too?

  She met her own eyes in the reflection. No point in worrying about it; she could do nothing to change the situation, and it might turn out to be a bug or too much drink. She had to keep her fingers crossed that the worst was not going to happen. Wringing out her flannel, she opened the door and prepared to begin her working day.

  Belinda shook her hair free from its navy ribbon and then bound it up again, attempting to corral all the stray tight curls. She and all of her colleagues were vigilant about hygiene, but today it felt more important than ever. She’d come across three cases of gastro-enteritis on her calls already, and it was still only lunchtime.

  ‘Is it just me?’ she asked, taking her bowl of mixed vegetable and pearl barley soup to the table where Bridget and Alice were already sitting. ‘If I’m not much mistaken, there’s a nasty new bug going around. Alice, one of your young friends has gone down with it.’

  Alice looked up from where she was spreading her bread with a thin layer of margarine. ‘Oh really? Who’s that?’

  Belinda folded her tall frame onto the old wooden dining chair. ‘Poor George. You know, the one I met when the wall collapsed.’

  ‘Janet used to teach him at St Benedict’s.’ Alice nodded. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

  Belinda reached for a slice of bread from the platter in the middle of the table. ‘I was visiting one of his neighbours with a broken leg and decided to drop by on the off-chance, to see how he was doing. I thought he’d probably be at school, but he wasn’t – he’s got this nasty bug and his mother had kept him at home. He’s not in danger; he’s more miserable than anything else. He was meant to be playing football with Benny after school but he won’t be able to do that for a while.’

  Alice frowned. ‘That’s a shame. He’s a good lad underneath all his naughtiness. Did you tell his mother to keep his fluid levels up? Sorry, of course you did.’

  ‘Of course I did.’ Belinda pulled a face.

  Bridget finished her soup first. ‘I was ravenous,’ she explained. ‘I took on two extra visits this morning, as Ellen wasn’t feeling up to all her rounds – don’t tell Gwen. I think she might be going down with it too. I’ll pop over to the flat to check on her in a
minute but then I’ll come right back here; I don’t want it as well. We’ve too much to do to get sick.’

  Belinda nodded. ‘You’re telling me. But I could manage an extra visit this afternoon if you like. Mrs Caffrey’s been taken into hospital again, so I shan’t have to change her dressings. That means I can help, if Ellen’s not up to it.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Bridget rose, concern for her friend and flatmate etched on her face. ‘Not if it makes you late though.’

  Belinda shrugged. ‘I was only going to the pictures with Geraldine from the ambulance station – nothing important. Don’t think twice about it.’

  Alice finished her own soup as Bridget rushed off. ‘I promised I’d see Janet for a cup of tea after work – I’ll check that she knows about George. She doesn’t take his class any more but the form teacher might need to know. She ought to be able to tell me if many of the other children have got it.’

  ‘That would be useful,’ said Belinda. ‘I’m always wary when there’s an outbreak like this. Tomorrow I said I’d help Miriam prepare one of her spare rooms for the latest family of refugees from Austria. They won’t thank me if the first thing they do is go down with a bug.’

  ‘Goodness, no.’ Alice rose as Gladys appeared behind them. ‘It’s all right, Gladys, I’ll take these plates back to the kitchen. Have you had your own lunch yet? Thought not. Why don’t you take my place here with Belinda?’

  Gladys nodded gratefully, but really she was thinking hard about the conversation she had just overheard. So there was an outbreak of gastro-enteritis going around. She could feel the tension draining from her body in relief. That was all there was to it. Evelyn had picked it up somewhere, maybe from the filthy Boatman’s. She had got all het up over nothing. All that was wrong with her silly, infuriating sister was a stomach bug.

  Mattie dug her small trowel into the earth in the window box, which was carefully balanced on the sill of the back kitchen in Jeeves Street. Frowning with concentration so as not to disturb the other plants, she pulled out the biggest one. Triumphantly she held up her bounty.