Home Fires and Spitfires

by Daisy Styles

  In the sluice-room Shirley and Dora were also discussing the newcomer.

  ‘I’m not sure how t’other lasses will react to the new girl, her being a German,’ Dora said, as they refilled the nappy buckets with hot water and sanitizing fluid. ‘She might come in for a bit of ragging.’

  Shirley’s pale brow creased under her starched white wimple. ‘The poor girl’s more to be pitied than picked on,’ she exclaimed. ‘Sister Ann told me there are thousands of Germans who have been made homeless by the Nazis just because they’re Jewish. She said it was’ – she stopped in order to accurately recall Sister Ann’s exact words – ‘it’s a crime against humanity.’

  Grim-faced, Dora carefully set down the heavy buckets. ‘Let’s just hope the Mary Vale residents see it that way too. The poor lass looks like a strong wind would blow her over. I don’t think she’s in any state to be bullied.’

  Dora’s prediction turned out to be right. Most of the residents united to turn against ‘The Foreigner’. Rather than pass her in the corridor, they would blatantly turn their backs to Zelda and walk off the other way. A few publicly sneered at the sound of her voice, while others, like Annie and Bessie, were downright vicious.

  Nervous Zelda felt safe only with the nursing staff, especially Ada, whom she quickly trusted implicitly. Blushing and embarrassed, she tried to articulate her fears, which Ada in turn tried to ease.

  ‘They will get used to you,’ she insisted. ‘In this place you’re all the same.’ Ada patted her own tummy to demonstrate her point. ‘Pregnant, waiting for a baby to come. Baby is important in Mary Vale – not war.’

  Nevertheless, Ada kept a close eye on Zelda. Whenever she ate with the residents, she always made a point of sitting beside her and trying to integrate her into the group, but they nervously kept their distance. Even though Ada chatted to her, Zelda only smiled and nodded in response; she didn’t dare speak for fear the other diners would mock her German accent. It was a wretched situation that angered Ada and humiliated Zelda, who hid in her room as much as possible and avoided speaking to anybody.

  ‘It’s intolerable,’ Ada seethed to Sister Ann in private. ‘I really don’t know how the likes of hard-hearted Annie and Bessie sleep in their beds at night.’

  Sister Ann fingered the little wooden cross that hung from a chain around her neck. ‘We must pray for the poor child,’ she said softly.

  Ada adored Ann and would never utter a word that might upset her, but her thoughts at that moment were anything but pious. ‘It will take a lot more than prayers,’ Ada quietly fumed. ‘It will take nothing short of a blasted miracle,’ she added under her breath.

  A few days later Ada asked to see Zelda in her office.

  ‘Good morning, dear,’ Ada said, smiling.

  Ada handed Zelda a thick English grammar book and a German-to-English dictionary that she had borrowed from the convent library the previous night.

  ‘These books will help you to improve your English,’ she explained.

  Zelda’s pale, thin face lit up as she flicked through the pages of the books. ‘I study English in die Schule,’ she told Ada. ‘I have English books in Germany, I study but then I leave.’

  As tears flooded her deep, dark-brown eyes, Ada leant forwards and laid a comforting hand on Zelda’s arm. ‘Tell me what happened to you,’ she said softly.

  Zelda stared at her for several moments before she whispered, ‘You hear story of mein Leben?’

  ‘Yes, please, dear. I want to hear your story.’

  Using the grammar book and the dictionary to help her formulate sentences and jotting down odd words and pictures in a notebook, Zelda managed to relate her recent history to Ada.

  ‘I study botany at university in Munich; my Izaak, he read law, he is a clever student, always discussing politics,’ she said with a proud smile. ‘We marry and move to Berlin, but dangerous times come to us. One night my Izaak away from house.’ Her voice broke, but she bit back her tears and continued, ‘Nazis stop him for passport, when they see he is Jew they kill him in street. My Izaak is dead because he is Jew.’

  Ada covered the poor girl’s trembling hands with her own. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she murmured.

  Determined to finish, Zelda took a deep breath and went on. ‘My parents buy me false identity; I get train to Belgium, then cross sea in fisherman’s boat. I go to relation in London, but London not good for my baby, so I find good place here to live.’

  Zelda hadn’t the words to describe her long journey north, how heartache and fear had given way to relief when the train had left the grime of the industrial cotton towns. Puffing black smoke in its wake, the train had stopped at Lancaster and Morecambe, then, after passing through a long dark tunnel, it emerged into a wide, sunlit bay. Zelda had gasped in disbelief when she saw that the train was speeding along on tracks secured on wooden piers drilled deep into the sea. Feeling like she was travelling between the sea and the sky, Zelda had gazed in wonder at the vast stretch of ocean that merged with the shimmering blue of the far western horizon. Filled with a rush of hope, Zelda was suffused with a deep instinctive feeling that Izaak had guided her to this bright, beautiful place to give birth to his child.

  Struggling to explain herself, she stumbled over her words. ‘His spirit was close, I feel him near to me,’ she said, and, cradling her tiny tummy, Zelda concluded her story: ‘And now, this baby is mein Lieber, I need to keep him safe.’

  Ada smiled gently as she made a promise that she vowed that she would keep faithfully: ‘Don’t you worry, dear,’ she said. ‘We’ll look after your baby and we’ll look after you too.’

  4. Good News

  Unaware of being observed by two pairs of quizzical eyes, Dr Reid, struggling with his ancient car’s clunky gears, arrived at Mary Vale House in order to briefly introduce himself to the staff before officially starting work in the Home the following week. Like two naughty schoolgirls, Ada, who was supposed to be leading the breathing and exercise class taking place in the garden, jostled behind a privet hedge with Dora to get their first glimpse of Dr Reid.

  ‘He looks young,’ Dora whispered. Squinting hard, she added, ‘He’s got a nice head of hair.’

  Ada burst into giggles. ‘Stop talking about the man like he was a horse at an auction!’

  As the new doctor climbed out of the driver’s seat, Dora hissed at her friend to be quiet.

  Fed up with lying flat on her back with one leg up in the air, a girl on the lawn called out, ‘Sister Ada! Can we relax yet?’

  Feeling guilty that she had abandoned her class, Ada immediately turned her wandering attention back to the group of heavily pregnant women. ‘Yes, of course, lower your legs, nice and slow now, all the time breathing out …’ Ada said, as she talked them through the exercise.

  ‘Phew!’ one of the class joked. ‘Any longer and I might have gone into premature labour.’

  As the girls chatted to each other, Ada nipped back to join Dora, who seemed to be glued to the privet hedge. ‘He’s taking in the view,’ she informed Ada.

  Ada noticed that, as Dr Reid strode along the garden path, he showed no evidence of a limp. She was impressed by how tall and broad he was, young too, as Dora had noted, with a mop of tawny-brown hair that fell in a boyish sweep over his brow.

  ‘Hell fire,’ Dora continued lugubriously. ‘Yon fella’s too good-looking to be working in a place like this – he’s bound to get the girls’ pulses racing.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Dora!’ Ada exclaimed. ‘They’re all pregnant!’

  ‘That doesn’t mean to say they’ve no imagination,’ irrepressible Dora chuckled. ‘Let’s hope he’s as good at his job as he is good-looking.’

  Returning to her class, now recumbent on the sunny lawn, Ada enquired,

  ‘Are you all sufficiently rested, ladies?’

  ‘I’m so rested I could nod off right here on the spot,’ a sweet young girl called Marie said, and yawned.

  Ada threw her an encouraging smile. ‘It�
��s worth the effort, believe me: these exercises will strengthen your pelvic muscles and help you to breathe deeply, both of which will be useful when you go into labour. Ready for the next lift? One, two, three, nice and slow now, slowly raise your legs …’

  As the class groaned good-naturedly, Dora whispered to Ada, ‘Yet again, no sign of Zelda.’

  Ada sighed. ‘No matter how hard I try I can’t persuade to join this class.’

  ‘If only she could find a friend,’ Dora murmured wistfully.

  ‘If only …’ Ada agreed.

  Inside the Home, Dr Reid was welcomed warmly by Sister Mary Paul, who escorted him, with her long veil fluttering out behind her like a dark cloud, to Father Ben’s office. Rising from his chair to greet the new doctor, Father Ben shook him warmly by the hand.

  ‘Dr Reid! It’s such a relief to know that we finally have a doctor on board.’

  After a welcome cup of tea and home-made bread and jam (Sister Mary Paul couldn’t bear the thought of Father Ben ever going hungry!), the priest led Dr Reid back to the Home, where many curious females stared at him as he made his way on to the maternity ward.

  ‘Ah!’ Father Ben cried when he saw Ada, who had just finished her class, walking down the main ward towards them. ‘Let me introduce you to Sister Dale.’

  Jamie found himself gazing at a tall, slim nurse with a neat waist and long shapely legs. Though her flame-coloured auburn hair was tucked under her cap, little golden curls escaped to frame her pretty tanned face, which was lit up by her large dark-blue eyes. As Ada smiled warmly, the new doctor admired the sweep of her wide, generous lips, which revealed perfect white teeth.

  ‘God! She’s beautiful,’ he thought.

  Even though Ada had already observed Dr Reid from a distance, now at close quarters she was even more struck by his wide-open smile and unusual hazel eyes that were beguilingly flecked with gold.

  Realizing that she had held his gaze for far too long, blushing Ada shook him by the hand. ‘Delighted to meet you, Dr Reid,’ she murmured.

  ‘Jamie Reid. Lovely to meet you too, Sister Dale.’

  ‘You have no idea how very welcome you are. Come,’ she added enthusiastically, repeating Father Ben’s words in a voice that hinted of a soft Northern accent. ‘Let me introduce you to the staff – they’re all keen to meet you – then I’ll give you a tour of the wards and the delivery suite.’

  After bidding farewell to Father Ben, Dr Reid followed in Ada’s wake, all the time trying not to gaze at the seductive swing of her shapely hips. Unaware of what was going on right behind her, Ada pointed out the ante- and post-natal wards as they passed through them.

  ‘The delivery room separates them off,’ she explained, when they came to a stop in the middle of what he considered to be quite a small room. ‘It’s a bit cramped,’ she admitted. ‘Luckily we don’t usually deal with multi-births, so we get by,’ Ada said, smiling. ‘And when it gets hot and stuffy, which it often does at this time of the year, we can just throw open the window,’ she said, and she stepped back in order to allow him to gaze out at the view.

  The sharp wind borne on the tide swept into the room, along with the tang of the salt marsh and the piercing call of the oystercatchers and redshanks hunting on the sandbanks.

  ‘It’s an extraordinary place,’ Jamie commented. ‘Homes like these are usually dark and forbidding, more like prisons, but Mary Vale is surprisingly pleasant.’

  Leading him out of the delivery room and along a corridor to the sluice-room, kitchen and the nursery, Ada agreed with his sentiments. ‘I thought exactly the same thing when I came to Mary Vale for my interview,’ she said. ‘To be working in a lovely big house like this, right by the sea and so near the mountains, was a very attractive prospect.’

  Aware of her patients’ curious eyes following the handsome young doctor, Ada hurried him along the corridor to his office, which Shirley had mopped and polished until it shone, going so far as to pick a bunch of fragrant, heliotrope-coloured sweet peas that she had arranged in a crystal vase on his desk.

  ‘I know it’s a bit poky,’ Ada said with an apologetic smile, ‘but you’ll have somewhere private to keep your belongings and sleep overnight if necessary,’ she said, nodding towards a neatly made-up narrow single bed.

  ‘This will do me just fine,’ Jamie said gratefully.

  ‘Matron’s next door,’ Ada continued. ‘I’ll fetch her,’ she added, as she left the room.

  Leaving Dr Reid with Ann, Ada made her way back to the main ward, where she found Shirley helping Dora with the feeds.

  Above the mewling cries of the hungry infants, Dora gave a sly smile. ‘I’ve just been telling Shirley what a good-looking fella the new doctor is.’

  Shirley smiled shyly. ‘I’m not interested in men, good-looking or otherwise.’

  Undeterred, Dora, who knew every bit of local gossip within thirty square miles, lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I’ve heard tell that he’s in high demand at the Barrow surgery, working every hour God sends.’

  Shirley looked concerned. ‘I hope that won’t affect his hours here.’

  Incorrigible Dora winked in the direction of Ada. ‘From the way his eyes were following Sister Dale’s every move, I’d say we’ll have no trouble keeping him close to Mary Vale.’

  Before Ada could respond to Dora’s cheeky comment, Matron reappeared with Dr Reid at her side.

  ‘Thank you for taking the time to pop over and meet us all before you officially start next week,’ Sister Ann said, as they shook hands.

  Dr Reid’s eyes were again drawn towards Ada. ‘It’s a pleasure to have met your staff, Matron.’

  After Dr Reid had driven away, Sister Ann turned to her friend with a satisfied expression on her face.

  ‘Thank God!’ she exclaimed. ‘At last, a decent, respectable young man.’

  Recalling the last doctor who had worked in the Home – the drunk and liar who had been struck off the medical register – Ada nodded vigorously.

  Smiling at the memory of the new doctor’s boyish grin and unusual gold-flecked hazel eyes, Ada replied, ‘We’re very lucky to have him.’

  Behind the driving wheel, Jamie Reid was also smiling. Only a few hours ago he had regretted his rash decision to drive the twenty miles from Barrow to Kents Bank to meet the Mary Vale staff. After being up all night, initially with a woman who was suffering a miscarriage and then with a middle-aged man who was dying of tuberculosis, Jamie could barely see straight. Though he had felt deeply sorry for both patients, he nevertheless longed for some sleep, but the sight of lovely Sister Ada had driven all thoughts of sleep from his mind.

  Bumping along the narrow lanes to Newby Bridge, Jamie had a fleeting, tantalizing glimpse of the Langdales in the far distance, and he briefly fantasized about ignoring the call of duty and driving north to Keswick. He reckoned he could be in the Borrowdale Valley within two hours, from where he could strike out in any direction to walk his favourite fells: to the north, Scafell Pike, east to Watendlath, west to Catbells and south to mighty Skiddaw. After a long, yearning backward glance, Jamie put his foot on the accelerator and headed back to work.

  As he drove along the narrow lanes to Barrow-in-Furness, Jamie’s thoughts drifted to his fellow medics from Leeds Royal Infirmary, who were, as far as he knew, behind the Front Line in northern France, treating soldiers wounded in battle. He and his pals had volunteered for active service, but after the obligatory medical Jamie was the only one the wartime medical board had rejected. Instead of fighting for his country, he was easing the workload of a hectic GP’s practice. Jamie originally considered his new role in the back streets of Barrow a bit of a comedown, but he soon grew to admire the toughness and tenacity of his Barrow patients, who welcomed him warmly into their community. When Jamie was informed that he would be splitting his workload between the Barrow surgery and a home for unmarried mothers and their babies, he had been quite pleased; it would be useful to keep up his obstetric research, and now there was
the added attraction of a beautiful, long-legged midwife nurse with shapely hips and sparkling, deep-blue eyes. He was counting down the days until he saw her again.

  5. Gracie

  Feeling hot, heavy and exhausted after a hard day’s work, Gracie walked slowly home with the din of the shipyard still ringing in her ears; the clattering, drilling, riveting, banging and hammering of shipbuilding machinery pounded inside her head until it ached. It seemed to Gracie that, no sooner had they repaired one battleship, than two more came back with their hulls blown out. With the British and French forces stuck like sitting ducks on the beaches of Dunkirk, ruthlessly strafed by German aircraft, every sea-worthy vessel was desperately needed for the evacuation of men stranded on the beaches.

  Patriotic though she was, Gracie longed for a day off. The thought of not having to conceal her ever growing tummy under her heavy overalls and lie in bed, wearing only a cool nightdress, sleeping undisturbed for hours, was her idea of heaven right now. With every passing week Gracie knew it really was time to tell her mam of her condition; plus, she needed an ally, and Gracie knew that her mother (once over the shock) would support her. She had been delaying making her announcement until she had located a home where she could go to have her baby. Thanks to the advice given by Dr Reid, who had recently joined her local GP’s practice, Gracie had booked herself into a nearby home called Mary Vale. Well aware that she could not afford to prevaricate any longer, Gracie would have to tell her mother that, not only was she pregnant but she was also going to a home for unmarried mothers.

  Breathing heavily, Gracie dragged her leaden feet along the narrow, terraced streets, where washing flapped in the salty sea-air and children played marbles in the gutter. Once inside her own backyard, Gracie manoeuvred a pathway round a heap of car, propped up on bricks, that she and her dad were forever tinkering with. Gracie gazed fondly at the ancient Raleigh, whose rusty engine they had painstakingly taken apart more than once.