The Girls in Blue

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The Girls in Blue Page 7

by Fenella J Miller


  ‘My dear young lady, you sustained a serious head injury. You only regained consciousness this morning. You will be here under my auspices for another week at least. It doesn’t do to take chances with head injuries.’

  ‘I see. Thank you for taking care of me.’

  ‘My job, my dear, and my pleasure.’ He turned to the sister who was taking notes. ‘Miss Hadley can be assisted to the lavatory when required but mustn’t attempt the journey on her own.’

  Jane’s cheeks burned. It was humiliating being talked about as if she wasn’t there. The consultant and his entourage of junior doctors moved on. A tray arrived with the promised toast and tea whilst the ward round was still in progress.

  Half an hour later they left the ward and the RAF officer returned. He strode in as if he had every right to be there and to her astonishment the sister smiled and a student nurse rushed off to fetch him a chair.

  ‘I managed to find you two sticky buns and a cheese sandwich. However, I can see that you’ve already had something else to eat.’

  ‘I have, but I would really like whatever you’ve managed to find. What a bit of luck that the consultant was your uncle – I shudder to think what might have happened to me if he hadn’t been a relative of yours.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I think even without my intervention he would have been on your side. He thought you fighting over your toast was funny.’

  ‘I’m not usually so assertive – in fact the opposite. I’m sure if you smile nicely at the nurse, she will fetch you a cup of tea too and then we can share the buns.’

  He swivelled on his chair to catch the eye of the girl and this gave her a few moments to study him without being observed. His eyes were almost exactly the same colour as his uniform. It was his hair that made him so memorable. Ash blond curls should have looked strange on a man but they just enhanced his good looks.

  ‘Do you still think I’m an angel?’ He’d turned back so suddenly that he’d caught her staring.

  ‘I’m quite certain I didn’t tell you that I thought you were an angel. If I remember rightly, I said that you looked like an angel, which is quite different.’

  ‘My oldest sister, Olivia, has straight brown hair and has never forgiven me for having what she always refers to as “her curls”.’

  The tea arrived and there was another cup for her as well. She received several baleful glances from the women on either side of her who weren’t getting such treats.

  The sticky bun was scrumptious and she couldn’t remember eating anything with such enjoyment before. Maybe being deprived of food for three days had restored her missing appetite.

  ‘I’m surprised you haven’t been turfed out of here. I think it will be lunchtime soon and now I’m so full of bun and toast I won’t be able to eat it.’

  The woman in the bed next to her overheard this comment – in fact had probably overheard every comment as the beds were so close together.

  ‘You won’t be missing much, love – you’re better off eating toast and buns.’

  Jane smiled at her. ‘There’s a cheese sandwich left over. Would you like it?’

  The woman beamed and held out her hand. Oscar handed it over. ‘Thanks, love, just what the doctor ordered.’

  ‘Thank you for coming to see me and fetching me the food. I’m sorry that I fell under your car wheels in so dramatic a fashion. Do you know how the two girls are, the ones who were so savagely attacked? I saw this before I got knocked down.’

  ‘I don’t, but I’ll find out for you when I leave and will inform you when I come and visit again.’

  She was about to tell him not to bother but said something else entirely. ‘I look forward to that. I don’t suppose you’re very busy at the moment as nothing’s happening. Do you have any of us on your base?’

  ‘A few girls arrived last month but we’re expecting a lot more. They will release the airmen for more urgent duties and the WAAF will be a godsend once things get going.’

  There was a rattle of a trolley approaching and the unmistakable whiff of overcooked cabbage. ‘That’s your lunch arriving, Jane. I’d better go. Don’t want to push my luck. I’ve got permission from Uncle Edward to visit in the mornings if I can get away. Hopefully, my kite won’t be functional tomorrow and I can come again.’

  He picked up the chair, smiled and nodded, and then was gone. He was a charming young man, handsome and an officer, so why on earth did he want to visit her again?

  7

  Oscar, as promised, went in search of information about the two girls who were bitten by the dog. He was relieved to discover they had been discharged already.

  On the drive back he scarcely noticed the passing scenery as his head was full of images of Jane. Even after spending so short a time in her company he wanted to get to know her better. He wasn’t sure how tall she was but he thought she would come up to his shoulder. Not many girls did as he was over six feet tall.

  He’d worried that he’d be too large to fit into the confined cockpit of a fighter plane but, as his height was in his legs and not his body, he’d been considered an acceptable size. A pilot had to be able to eject safely and get in and out of the cockpit at speed – and a couple of his friends were now bomber pilots because not only were they as tall as him, but they were also much broader in the shoulder.

  Fortunately, his kite was still unavailable the following day so he was given permission to leave the base for the morning. Twice his car skidded on the icy road and he considered himself lucky to arrive at the hospital in one piece.

  He parked and then went in search of a bakery so he had something to give her. If the hospital food was as bad as the other patient had said, buns and cakes would be more popular than flowers. It took all his charm and powers of persuasion to be able to purchase three sausage rolls, two sticky buns and another cheese sandwich. Jane would have ample to share with her neighbours.

  Uncle Edward had told him he wasn’t discharging her for at least a week. This meant he had a captive audience as once she was at Pannal Ash he might not have the opportunity to meet with her. He’d asked one of the girls stationed at Catterick how long basic training lasted and had been told Jane might well only be there for a couple of weeks before being sent to her permanent posting. It was highly unlikely he would be lucky enough to have her on his base.

  He walked into the ward and nodded at the sister busy scribbling at her desk. This time she smiled, albeit a little frostily. He looked across at the bed where Jane should be and it was empty, neatly made. For a second his heart plummeted to his boots.

  Then common sense returned. If anything had happened the nurse wouldn’t be smiling at him. The empty bed was the one next to hers. However, this too was empty but not made up for a new patient. She must have gone to the bog.

  There was a chair beside the bed, so he was expected. He glanced at the large wall clock at the end of the ward and saw there was another hour before Uncle Edward would make his rounds. He moved the chair so he could watch the doors.

  He stood up as she came in escorted by not one, but two nurses. From her expression she wasn’t too happy about this. She smiled at him. ‘Good morning, Flying Officer Stanton, I didn’t really expect you so early but I’m glad you’re here.’

  ‘Good show, I’ve brought you rations. Thought you would prefer this to flowers or chocolate.’

  ‘Absolutely spiffing. The only thing edible in here is the toast as the nurses make it in a little kitchen just outside the ward themselves.’

  Only then did he notice she wasn’t wearing her own nightwear, was barefoot, and two hospital gowns did the duty of a dressing gown. Why the devil hadn’t someone brought in what she needed?

  She hopped into bed, nodded her thanks to the nurses, and pulled the covers up. ‘I’m tickety-boo and going to insist that they let me go. Someone from my new posting visited yesterday and said the medic is happy to remove my sutures so that’s no obstacle to my leaving.’

  The tea trolley trundl
ed in and once it had moved on, he handed over the bag of goodies. ‘This should keep you going.’ She peered inside the brown paper bag and beamed.

  ‘Perfect. There’s enough here for me and Irene, the lady on the other side of me.’ Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink as she nodded at her hospital gowns. ‘Dreadful, aren’t they? I don’t own either slippers or a dressing gown.’ Something flashed in her eyes and he thought it might be disappointment. ‘The three girls I got friendly with were posted to Ash Vale and I don’t know anyone else well enough to ask them to go through my kit and find what I want. The hospital has supplied me with a toothbrush and comb. That’ll have to do until I leave.’

  ‘You look much better than you did yesterday. I know my uncle said you had to stay here for another week but I think he might change his mind when he sees you today.’

  They talked like old friends. She asked intelligent questions about his duties as a pilot and he asked her what trade she intended to apply for.

  ‘I don’t know, but by the time I get out I expect decisions will have been made. I haven’t been able to tell my friends at Ash Vale what happened, but it’s probably better they aren’t worried about me.’

  This time he decided to leave before Uncle Edward appeared – didn’t want to push his luck. ‘I’ll come tomorrow if I can…’

  ‘No, please don’t. I’ve already been asked twice if you’re my young man. We only met by accident and we hardly know each other.’

  ‘I thought we were getting on really well. Do you have someone special?’

  ‘Absolutely not. I don’t want to get involved with anyone; I want to concentrate on doing my bit for the war effort.’

  ‘I see. I was just hoping I could take you to the pictures, for a drink or a meal somewhere – nothing serious – just friends.’

  She shook her head. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I’m going to be far too busy for anything like that.’ She offered her hand. ‘Goodbye, Flying Officer Stanton, I do appreciate how kind you’ve been. Take care of yourself.’

  He had no option but to shake the extended hand. ‘If you change your mind, Jane, you know where to find me. Good luck, and I hope you’re out of here soon.’

  He walked away wishing things could be different. Probably for the best as she’d be posted away in a week or two and there’d be no opportunity to meet again.

  He turned at the door to wave but she was reading and not looking his way.

  *

  Jane counted to a hundred before putting her book down. She couldn’t have been reading it even if she’d wanted to as it was upside down. When he’d taken her hand for a few seconds she’d allowed herself to imagine what things could have been like if it hadn’t been for that man. The touch of his skin against hers had made her heart beat faster. It didn’t matter, as it was unlikely they could meet again even if they’d wanted to.

  The consultant duly arrived and pronounced her recovery remarkable and agreed that she could rejoin her fellow recruits as long as she avoided doing anything strenuous until her stitches were removed. The bandage was replaced by a more discreet dressing and she was ready to go.

  Two hours later she was standing outside the hospital in her uniform waiting for the taxi. Her arrival several days later than the others wasn’t ideal. She was directed to her new dormitory and spent an age looking in all the lockers until she discovered an empty one, so knew that this neatly stacked bed would be hers for the next week or two.

  Her kitbag was already there and she quickly unpacked. She’d been told that she could spend the day getting familiar with her surroundings and didn’t have to report for duty until the following morning. As she wasn’t to do anything remotely interesting she expected to be given office duties of some sort.

  This dormitory was on the ground floor of the three-floored building. The room held thirty beds and was even colder than the previous one she’d shared with only six others. The ablutions, as they were known in the services, were in a separate block. She just hoped she didn’t need to use the loo at night as it would require getting dressed in order to do so. There were spiral staircases linking the billets but she didn’t go up them to investigate.

  The recreation room had to be warmer than here so she went in search of it, her stationery folder and cloth bag of irons clutched in one hand and her bag of edibles in the other. She was going to write to Charlotte and tell her what had happened. Flying Officer Stanton would be omitted from her story.

  The mess hall was vast and deserted. The appetising smell of beef stew lingered and her stomach rumbled. Thank goodness she had her bag of buns and sandwiches.

  There were dozens of uniformed women criss-crossing the central hall but none of them spoke to her. Why should they? She was a stranger to them and no doubt they thought she was equally busy.

  She followed the sound of chattering and laughter to the recreation room which was, thankfully, half full of women of all shapes and sizes, the only common denominator the fact that they were in the same grey-blue uniform.

  Immediately someone called out to her. ‘Over here – you must be the other walking wounded.’ The girl who’d spoken had an arm in a sling and several sticking plasters on her face and neck. Beside her was another girl similarly covered but with both arms free.

  ‘Hello, I’m Jane Hadley. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to escape from hospital and join you here.’

  ‘I’m Daphne Smith, this is Jenny Read. You came off worst and it wasn’t even the dog that hurt you.’

  She sat down next to them, eager to discover exactly what she would have to do once she was cleared for duty.

  ‘I think we’re only here for them to break our spirits completely,’ Jenny said with a rueful smile. ‘Fiona, she’s in our dormitory, spent the past five days cleaning the toilets. There are eighty of them and they all have to be shiny bright. She said she even has to put her arm round the U-bend. The wooden seats have to shine.’

  Daphne joined in gleefully. ‘She also has to scrub the floors and wash down the doors – every day!’

  ‘Good grief! What else are they doing?’

  ‘Peeling potatoes, working in the laundry, sweeping floors and polishing furniture – in fact they’re nothing better than skivvies.’

  ‘No drill? I rather enjoyed that.’

  ‘Oh yes, rain, snow or shine they do an hour every morning after breakfast and before they start their menial tasks.’ Daphne laughed. ‘I never thought I’d be glad to be bitten by a dog, but I’d much rather be sitting here in the warm than doing what the others are.’

  ‘Haven’t you been given light duties?’

  They both shook their heads. ‘No, just told to remain in here,’ Jenny said.

  ‘I wonder how long this will go on. I can’t see that we’re helping the war effort at the moment,’ Jane replied.

  ‘One of the other girls said next week we get allocated to a particular branch of the service and then the specialised, intensive training begins.’

  ‘Do we get a choice?’

  ‘We’re interviewed and the bigwigs decide what they think we’re suited for. Didn’t you fill in a form saying what you wanted when you signed up?’ Daphne joined in the conversation.

  ‘I did. I asked for radio or wireless operator. Our stitches come out before then so I expect we’re not going to escape entirely from having to do the horrible jobs.’ She held up her paper bag. ‘I’m absolutely starving and have missed my lunch. Can I share these with you?’ She carefully tore open the bag so they could see the contents.

  ‘Golly, what a treat. I’ll see if I can rustle up some tea to go with them. Give me your mugs, ladies.’ Jenny rushed off and returned triumphantly bearing a tray with three steaming mugs.

  After sharing the goodies with her new friends Jane began to relax. She eventually found the time to write a quick letter and put her last stamp on the envelope.

  ‘I think I saw a post box in the hall. I’ll just pop this in. I want to let the girls
I shared with before know what happened.’

  This time she wasn’t going to offer any personal details, become too friendly, as this would make it easier when they were separated at the end of next week.

  Three days later she reported before breakfast to the medical officer to have her stitches taken out and was declared fit for duty. She dreaded what she might be given to do and was right to be apprehensive. Her assignment was to clean the billet, including the linoleum that covered the spiral staircase.

  A particularly nasty WAAF officer hauled her into the office after she’d finished. ‘It just will not do, young woman. If you don’t want to be put on a charge you must perform better than this. You’ve been lazing about for a week and there’s no excuse for such poor work. The stairs are a disgrace. You will be kept on fatigue duty indefinitely if you don’t buck up your ideas.’

  Jane saluted smartly and marched out feeling sick. She didn’t want to get into any more trouble; she’d worked incredibly hard and was confident no one could have done any better.

  The next day she applied double the amount of polish to the linoleum and was satisfied that even this fussy officer couldn’t find fault with the shine. She was just finishing the bottom step when she heard voices and footsteps approaching along the corridor above her.

  Her work was being inspected by the officer and her NCOs. Hastily she jumped to her feet and gathered up her rags and so on, not wishing to be seen on her knees when they appeared above her. Suddenly there was a shriek, followed by crashes and thumps.

  She dodged into the nearby broom cupboard and watched through a slit in the door as the officer appeared at speed on her backside, the NCOs skidding down behind their superior. As Jane watched in horror, expecting to be discovered and put on a charge at any moment, the officer stood up, put her cap back on, adjusted her tunic and marched off.

  Revenge was sweet – but she was relieved no one had been seriously hurt by her over-industrious application of polish.

 

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