by Rosie James
As they moved away to resume their duties, Heather slipped her arm into Angelina’s – Jane had gone back to the hut for something – and said, ‘Wherever they do send us, Angelina, I really hope that we’ll be together – you and me and Jane.’ She paused. ‘I know it’s an awful thing to say, but I don’t think I have ever been as happy in my life as I am now, even under these dreadful circumstances. We get on so well together, the three of us – and I feel I can do anything asked of me because you two are there, doing the same. I wouldn’t have been capable of facing up to the horror of this war, the things we’ve been seeing, if I hadn’t been able to glance up and see you and Jane there too.’
Angelina squeezed her arm. ‘I know exactly what you mean, Heather,’ she said, ‘because we sort of give each other strength, don’t we – helped quite a lot by Jane’s sense of humour. We couldn’t get through life if there wasn’t something we could find to laugh about together.’
Heather smiled up gratefully. ‘I’m glad you feel like that too, Angelina. Because, you see, I was never very good at making friends – at school, I mean. Everyone used to say that I was standoffish, but I was never that. It was that I just couldn’t find the right things to say or do so that they would let me join in with them. I was always afraid of pushing myself in where maybe I wasn’t really wanted,’ Heather added. ‘I was never invited to anyone’s birthday parties, or things like that.’
Angelina shot her a look. ‘Did you invite them to any of yours?’
‘Oh, I never had a birthday party – not the sort you invite people to,’ Heather said. ‘Of course, I always had lovely presents, and then my parents and I would go out to afternoon tea somewhere, or maybe to the theatre … as my treat. It was usually just the three of us because that’s how we liked it.’ She frowned briefly. ‘I never thought to ask a friend to come along with us, because I was afraid they might not like to, and wouldn’t know how to refuse.’ She sighed. ‘I never felt that anyone wanted to be my friend.’
‘Well, there’s never been any fear of that where we are concerned, Heather,’ Angelina said firmly. ‘We’ve been a trio since we first set our eyes on each other, haven’t we, and nothing will ever change that. You mark my words! And when we get back home we’ll spend hours and hours going over and over what we saw and did over here – we’ll be in danger of boring everyone else to death!’
Christmas 1916
Despite the horror and death all around, it had been decided that Christmas should be celebrated as usual. Angelina glanced up at the others as they were all putting on their uniforms for the day.
‘I know that St Thomas’s was always decorated for the festive season,’ she said, ‘but it does feel strange seeing tinsel and baubles on the wards here – in these particular circumstances, I mean.’
The others agreed, but Heather said, ‘Haven’t you heard the patients singing carols? They seem quite prepared to enter into the spirit of the occasion, despite everything.’
‘There are nearly as many Germans here now as English, and they have been singing “Holy Night” for days!’ one of the others exclaimed, ‘Some of them have got really nice voices.’
‘Yes, I noticed that,’ Jane said, ‘and they seem very grateful for everything, don’t they? Saying thank you over and over again and minding their manners. One of them has even said he would like to take me to his homeland after this is all over, and show me the sights! He told me that Berlin is a beautiful city.’ She grinned. ‘I told him I’d think about it.’
Angelina sighed briefly, thinking how quickly they’d got used to the German prisoners becoming part of them, part of the family. These soldiers were not foes anymore, they were human beings in need of care and attention, and their reaction to pain, or to how they were being treated, was exactly the same as any of the British Tommies. There was no difference.
By now, fewer casualties were coming in each week, and the blessed relief of comparative silence, without the incessant boom of the guns, had felt like an early Christmas present.
On Christmas Day, after Angelina and the others had done their rounds, everyone made their way to the canteen for dinner. The place had been transformed. Every corner had been decorated, there were even some balloons hanging from the roof struts of the huge tent, and there was popular music playing.
Jane nudged Angelina as they took their places at one of the tables. ‘We have come from hell to heaven,’ Jane said. ‘Thank goodness there haven’t been any really bad cases for a few days so we can eat our dinner in peace.’
And what a meal it was. Six courses, starting with soup, then fish and turkey with stuffing and all the trimmings, with Christmas pudding and brandy butter afterwards. It seemed almost too good to be true, but everyone tucked in, and presently the tables were moved to one side and the dancing began.
‘I’ll lead,’ Jane said, automatically taking the role of male partner as she drew Angelina to her feet. It was a quick-step, and although Angelina hadn’t had much experience of ballroom dancing, she picked it up pretty quickly, especially with Jane’s robust direction.
They were dancing, war or no war, as if they didn’t have a care in the world, and to Angelina there was a touch of incongruousness about it. But that was how it was, and for those few brief hours, time stood still. It was Christmas, they were going to enjoy it.
Presently, they were asked to leave as the tables had to be re-set for the staff who’d remained on duty to have their own meal. Much later, when Angelina and the others went back to the hut, their joy became even greater. Mail had arrived! The first they’d received since being in France. This had to be Santa Claus at his most benevolent!
The envelopes were there on the little table, and every nurse rushed forward to pounce on the one addressed to them.
There were two for Angelina, and she picked up hers, smiling at the address on the front of both, which read: ‘Miss Angelina Green, a St Thomas’s Hospital nurse, serving somewhere in France.’ That was all they said, but they had arrived, and stretching out on her bed, Angelina began to read. The first one was from Miss Kingston, dated 10th August.
My dear Angelina
I am hoping this will reach you because of course we don’t know where you are, but I have great faith in our Royal Mail and I’m sure they will come up trumps sooner or later.
Life here at the Garfield is much as usual, although some foodstuffs are becoming scarce. Mrs Haines had to queue for potatoes last week which I think came as rather a shock to her! But we are managing very well and all the children are as happy – and naughty! – as they usually are, bless them. You were never naughty, of course!
Mrs Marshall has not been very well lately, but she always turns up, come what may. I tell her to have some time off but she says she’d rather be at work.
I do think of you a lot, my dear. No one seems to know when this war will end, but my constant prayer is for your safety and wellbeing, and for that of your colleagues, too, of course. You are all very brave girls.
I know that Ruby is writing to you – she came here wanting to know where she should address the envelope. I do hope we’ve got it right. She is looking very bonny, so have no worries about her.
Take great care of yourself my dear girl. I think of you every day.
Sincerely, Miss Kingston
Angelina slid the letter back into the envelope, her eyes moist. It was the first time she’d been aware of homesickness, but it was aching inside her now. The Garfield, the only home she had ever known. She could almost smell it – Mrs Marshall’s floor polish, Wright’s coal tar soap in the basins, the smell of fresh laundry upstairs, the glorious scent of warm cakes cooling in the kitchen …
Angelina pulled herself together. Enough of that. There was still a lot of work ahead.
She opened the other envelope, noting how beautifully Ruby had written the address. Angelina wasn’t surprised at that because Ruby had loved being taught to read and write, and the two of them had spent many happy hours together,
poring over their books.
Dear Angelina
I wish I was talking to you, instead of writing! It seems ages since we were together.
I can’t imagine all the stuff you are doing over there. I hear the war news from Mr and Mrs Walker and it sounds dreadful to me. Hairdressing is such a silly thing by comparison, but Mrs Walker says that we are keeping the home fires burning and that not everyone can go and fight.
I am so busy all the time that the days fly by. I am doing everything now, at the salon, and one or two customers ask for me specially. I thought Mrs Walker might be put out by this, but she isn’t a bit. One morning we only had four clients so I was left completely in charge. I did feel very important! And didn’t get anything wrong. I was given very generous tips!
The Carters are so sweet to me, Angelina. They’re always asking me up for a cup of tea, or sometimes Sunday dinner, and of course I take over the baby. Nesta is absolutely gorgeous now, walking all over the place. She calls me ‘Ooby’. I wonder how she will say your name when you come home!
As you can see, I am managing without my very best and dearest friend Angelina Green. Miss Jones has called in several times – just for a few minutes – and always brings cakes or biscuits to put in the tin. She says they’ll keep me going!
So that’s all my news, really.
I can’t wait to see you again, Angelina. You will have such a lot to tell us.
Night night and God bless. And please, please, please, take care of yourself
Oodles and oodles of love,
Ruby.
PS. I always leave Teddy in your bed. I know you left him for me, but he’s yours, really, and I know he wants to be with you. So the nearest I can get is to tuck him under your pillow, but I always give him a kiss from you before we go to sleep. Xxxxx
Chapter 14
March 1917
Another cold and dreary month was passing, and the camp hospital became less frenetic as patients were fewer. Angelina and the others were thankful to be given the chance for a little more time off.
But it wasn’t to last. At the beginning of April they were given their marching orders.
‘You are all to go further up the Line,’ Dr Lewis said as he consulted his file. ‘Some to other field hospitals, and others to one of the Casualty Clearing Stations.’ He glanced up. ‘The stations are the noisier option because they are always close to the battle,’ he said, ‘but someone has to do it, and you are all pretty used to the sound of heavy warfare by now.’
Angelina wished he’d get on with it. ‘So – who’s going where?’ she said. ‘Are the same groups staying together?’
‘Not necessarily,’ the doctor said, ‘but it looks as if you three—’ he pointed to Angelina, Heather and Jane ‘—are to go to the stations, the others to one of the hospitals.’ He paused briefly, not wishing to say that he had been asked which of the nurses he thought had the stomach for Casualty Clearing which was always a tough call. It seemed to him that Nurse Green and her two particular friends had become quite close and worked well together in the more extreme cases. A small band of nurses with a sense of humour thrown in. Perfect for Casualty Clearing.
They were going to be taken by truck or train at the end of the week. On Thursday evening, as they were enjoying a pot of tea in the canteen, Heather said, ‘I’m really glad we are going to stay together, aren’t you? We’ve become as close as sisters since we were all thrown into this mess.’
Jane nodded. ‘’I wouldn’t have believed how that might happen,’ she said, ‘because I’ve never been close to any other human being before in my life.’ She grinned. ‘So thanks to this bloody war, I’ve been given a novel experience!’
Angelina glanced at her quickly. It had been rather embarrassing to notice that Jane had been the only one in the hut who hadn’t received any mail.
‘No brothers or sisters for you, then, Jane?’ Angelina enquired lightly.
‘Oh no, and hardly any parents, either.’ Jane looked away for a second. ‘I don’t want to sound pathetic because I couldn’t give a damn anymore about the question of relationships, but as soon as I was born I was cast out into the wilderness of nannies and child minders … and private boarding school at the age of 7.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I mean, why would anyone bring a child into the world and then choose to ignore it? Pretend it isn’t there? I will never forgive my mother and father for giving me everything that money can buy, and nothing else. No hugs and kisses and bedtime stories for me.’ She curled her hands around her mug of tea before going on. ‘Do you know the one thing that I will take with me to the grave? The day I was awarded a prize at the annual thanksgiving service at school. It was for “exceptional achievement in all subjects” – what do you think of that! I was so excited, and the assembly hall was packed with parents and grandparents and hangers on. But when I got up on to the stage and looked around for my parents, they were not there. They’d promised they would be coming but hadn’t bothered to turn up and said afterwards that Daddy had an important meeting and that Mummy thought she had a cold coming.’ Jane paused. ‘I will never forget that feeling of utter desertion,’ she said slowly. ‘I was 10 years old, and no one had turned up to cheer for me.’
For a second, Angelina thought that Jane was going to shed a tear, but the moment passed and she grinned her usual hearty grin.
‘So there’s the story of my pathetic life,’ she said, and Heather leaned forward and touched her hand.
‘There is nothing at all pathetic about you or your life, Jane,’ Heather said quietly. ‘You may have felt deserted before, but we’ll never desert you, will we, Angelina? We three will stay friends together until this is all over and after that – I know we will.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t have any brothers or sisters either, but I do have very loving parents, and I would share them with you any day, Jane. You would love them, and they would love you because you’re funny and you make us all laugh.’
Perhaps it was because of the uncertainty of what lay ahead that the feeling around the table was becoming maudlin, so Angelina said, ‘Come on, sisters! We have to be up early in the morning so we’d better go and pack our few belongings.’
As they walked back to the hut, Heather, realising that Angelina had been rather quiet, said, ‘Do you have sisters or brothers, Angelina?’
There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation. ‘My background is like the rhyme, “There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, she had so many children she didn’t know what to do, so she gave them some jam without any bread, smacked them all soundly and sent them to bed!”’
The others looked at her, astounded. ‘Crumbs,’ Jane said, ‘are there that many of you at home? How marvellous. You must have had such fun growing up.’
Angelina nodded. ‘I certainly did have a lot of fun,’ she said. Then she decided it was time to come clean. ‘No, it’s not quite like that, it’s just that I am an orphan – I was brought up in a large orphanage in the East End. I must have had parents, but I never knew who they were because apparently I just turned up and that was that.’ She glanced at Jane. ‘Perhaps my parents took one look at me and decided family life wasn’t for them!’
Jane snorted. ‘That’s hardly likely. You must have been a very beautiful baby, Angelina.’
‘Were they always kind to you … at the orphanage?’ Heather said.
‘Of course,’ Angelina said, ‘but we had our ups and downs. We used to fall out with each other and have scraps, but no one was allowed to be nasty.’ She smiled. ‘The nuns used to get cross and give us the cane sometimes and one of the helpers – Mrs Marshall – never liked me at all. When I tried to ask her things she’d tell me to buzz off and stop being a nuisance. But she was all right, really. And the priest, Father Laurence, he was another one! We had to sit very quietly and say prayers and learn the bible and then he’d test us to see if we’d been concentrating!’
‘He sounds horrible,’ Heather said, and Angelina shook her head.
‘No, he wa
sn’t horrible, and he gave me and my friend Ruby a blessing before we left, which was quite touching.’ Angelina paused. ‘He is very tall and sort of handsome, but he always looked rather sad to me.’ She giggled. ‘Our cook, Mrs Haines, can’t bear him! I don’t know why, but she and Mrs Marshall were always whispering about him.’
‘When did you leave the orphanage?’ Jane asked curiously. ‘Was it when you started at St Thomas’s?’
‘No, before that,’ Angelina replied. ‘Orphans are only allowed to stay until they’re fourteen, but they found a lovely little room in a nice house for me and my friend Ruby – we left at the same time – and they made sure we had jobs.’
‘I can’t imagine being brought up with dozens of others,’ Heather said. ‘There was always just me and my mother and father – and the cats. We’ve got four at the moment, and I’ve always had animals to play with, so I’ve never felt lonely, not really. But I’ve often thought that it would have been lovely to share a bedroom with someone and go on talking until we fell asleep. Still, the cats all curl up on my bed – and sometimes it can feel a bit crowded!
‘Do cats answer to their names?’ Jane asked curiously. ‘I mean, like dogs do?’
Heather smiled. ‘Cats do exactly what they want, when they want,’ she said. ‘Sometimes they deign to look up when I speak to them, but mostly they live in their own little worlds, and I love them to death. They are my soul mates,’ she added.
‘So go on, tell us what these creatures are called,’ Angelina said.
‘They are Monty, Minty, Pepper and Beau, and although I don’t have favourites – not really – Monty is a bit special because he was the first one I was given. I’m sure he feels he’s the superior member of the gang!’
