by Annie Groves
‘Joe sends his regards. I spoke to him a couple of days ago,’ Alice added.
‘And your parents, of course. Mattie as well. You should see her; she’s big as a barrage balloon. Only a few weeks to go now. You’ll have a new nephew or niece very soon.’
Alice stepped back. Now she had said a few words, she wanted to give Edith some privacy. ‘I’ll just see if there’s somewhere to buy a cup of tea,’ she whispered to her friend. ‘I’ll bring one to you if I can.’ Discreetly she slipped out.
Edith nodded, but her eyes never left Harry’s face. Now that she could see the damage she was no longer afraid. This was still the Harry she loved with her whole heart, and if one side of his head was hurt, underneath it all he was the same man. He was more to her than just a handsome face – although that had been a big part of the initial attraction. Besides, he would always be handsome to her. She squeezed his hand.
‘Harry, I’m so sorry you’re lying here like this,’ she said softly, with a slight tremor in her voice. ‘I don’t know if you can hear me, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll keep coming back and telling you until you can. It won’t make any difference to me, you know. I’ll love you just as much. Even more, in fact, because you were so brave.’ She fought down a sob at the thought of what he must have gone through but regained control and spoke again. ‘You make sure you hurry up and get better for me, Harry. I can’t wait. You and me, we’re going to do everything we said we’d do, and more besides. We’ve got our lives ahead of us, Harry Banham, and one accident off Dunkirk isn’t going to stop us.’ She scanned his face for any trace of recognition but there was none. ‘You’ve got to recover as the family need you. We all do. Billy says hello – did you know he’d been to see you? We brought you a cake. I’ll tell the nurse who brought us here where to find it.’ She paused to put the box in the bedside cabinet.
Taking his hand again, she resumed. ‘I thought I’d die as well when I first heard you were missing. We all thought you were dead. These have been the worst few months of my life, knowing I’d met you and then lost you. Now you’re here, I feel the same about you as I always did and I love you with all my heart, Harry. You hang on to that and get better for me.’ She squeezed his hand again and leant forward, planting a tender kiss on his temple.
His face remained impassive, although she willed with all her might for it to show some kind of recognition. Then, so slight that she could almost have imagined it, she felt a pressure in her fingers.
Harry was squeezing her hand. He had heard her. He knew who she was.
Flo paced anxiously around the kitchen, unable to settle. First she rolled up her sleeves, then she rolled them down again. While Mattie had been downstairs she had done her very best to hide her nervous energy, but now Mattie had gone up for an early night, she could not sit still. She turned on the wireless, and the sound of Arthur Askey rasping out ‘Bless ’Em All’ filled the room. Usually she loved him, but tonight she switched him straight off again.
Finally she gave in and turned to Stan, who was for once not on shift.
‘Do you think they’re back yet?’ she asked. ‘Wouldn’t their train have come in to Waterloo by now?’
Stan shook his head. He was every bit as keen as his wife for news of their son, but understood the difficulties. ‘You know what Billy said about that train line,’ he pointed out. ‘We can’t pretend it will keep to a normal timetable. They could be anywhere. If they get back late they won’t come here, they’ll need their sleep. The soonest we can reasonably expect to see them is tomorrow.’
Flo shut her eyes for a moment. ‘Yes, he said it took ages, but what if they are back? Maybe they are already in Victory Walk but too tired to come over. Why don’t you go over and see, Stan? You could ask that nice superintendent. You wouldn’t need to disturb them if they’ve already gone to bed, but at least we’d know.’
Stan sighed. He was torn between the urge to hear the latest as soon as possible and the temptation of sitting in a comfortable chair in his own home for an evening. However, he could see that his wife would not settle while this was on her mind. Wearily he got up.
‘There’s no guarantee I’ll find out anything,’ he warned her, reaching for his light jacket. ‘They’re probably stuck in a siding somewhere.’
‘I do hope they thought to take enough food and drink,’ Flo fretted.
Stan could see she was getting herself into a state, which didn’t happen often, but he recognised the rare signs. ‘Bit late now,’ he replied. ‘But this is Edie and Alice we’re talking about. They’re sensible, they’ll have packed enough to see them through any delays. Don’t you go worrying about that.’
‘You’ll hurry back to tell me, won’t you?’ Flo asked.
‘Of course.’ Stan planted a kiss on the top of his wife’s head. ‘Now you stay here and I’ll be back as soon as I can, then we can have a drop of tea and go up together for once.’
Flo saw him to the door and watched as he walked quickly down to the end of Jeeves Street to the main road.
Stan’s long legs took him swiftly towards Victory Walk, although he doubted very much that the two nurses would be there when he arrived. The night air was marked by the anti-aircraft defence lights, piercing the black of the sky. Billy’s account had made it clear that they would be very lucky to be home in anything like normal time. He was far from happy at the idea of the pair of them wandering around the centre of London in the dark, unable to find transport if they were very late, but there was little he could do about it. They were used to tackling difficult situations and looking after themselves. He just hoped there would be no enemy attacks. Earlier in the day they had heard gunfire from further east and towards the dockyards, and he was mindful that a bomb had been dropped on Harrow just a few days before. There had also been attacks on production factories in Portsmouth. Still, he reminded himself, the odds were that nothing out of the ordinary would happen this evening. There was no reason to believe that 24 August would be any different to any other night.
Before he rounded the last corner, someone called out to him. ‘Stan! That you?’
Stan turned in the direction the voice had come from and saw a figure in ARP uniform, holding a shielded torch. It was Brendan Richards, the recent recruit from the market. ‘Good evening! How’s it been so far?’ he asked affably.
‘Not so bad around here, all things considered.’ The man paused, as if debating whether to go on or not. ‘However, we’ve been getting reports of heavy bombing on the south coast. Didn’t you say your son had been found alive in a hospital down there somewhere?’
Stan swallowed hard. ‘That’s right. In Portsmouth.’
Brendan’s face fell. ‘Ah, well, that’s where they say the worst of the bombs fell. Hope they haven’t gone near the hospital.’ He realised too late what he was saying. ‘Well, they’re bound to go for the docks or more factories, aren’t they. That would make sense. Or the train station, somewhere like that.’
Stan nodded briefly. ‘Thanks for telling me. I must get on.’
‘Of course.’ Brendan deferred to his more senior colleague. ‘I’ll carry on with my rounds, then. Good night.’
‘Good night,’ Stan said, now consumed with worry. It made no sense to bomb a hospital, but how accurate were the raiders? What sort of light conditions had prevailed over the south coast and what time had it happened? His colleague would have had no idea of Edie and Alice’s trip, and so he had meant nothing by mentioning the station, but Stan’s heart turned to ice. He ran up the stone steps to the nurses’ home front door and knocked firmly.
Even at this hour there was an almost immediate response, as the nurses never knew when their services would be needed. A young woman he didn’t recognise admitted him and promised to find Fiona. The only thing he registered about her was that she had lots of freckles and an Irish accent.
Fiona ushered him into her office with her usual brisk efficiency. ‘You’ll have a cup of tea, Mr Banham? Or something stronger?�
� she offered, her eyes bright.
‘No, not this evening, thank you.’ He ran his hand through his greying hair as he took the seat she indicated. ‘You’ll know why I’m here, I’m sure. Are they back yet, Edith and Alice?’ He was hoping against hope they had beaten the odds and found the one train running on time.
Fiona gave a small frown. ‘Why, no. But I wasn’t expecting them yet, to be honest. You know as well as I do what the transport situation is like.’
Stan nodded ruefully. ‘I do indeed. I thought it was worth checking though. As it happens I’ve just heard some rather disturbing news.’ He repeated what his colleague had told him, trying to play down his fears, but Fiona knew him too well to miss the slight tremble in his voice.
She set down the glass of water she had been holding. ‘Well, that is a cause for anxiety, I agree. That was all he said? Nothing more precise?’
Stan shook his head and Fiona tutted. ‘Very frustrating, not to have more definite news. Well, there is no point in worrying when we don’t know the full facts,’ she declared resolutely. ‘We have no actual reason to suspect Alice, Edith or your son have come to harm. So we must remain optimistic.’
Stan nodded, but knew full well they were both thinking the same thing. How cruel it would be to have Harry returned to them after months of believing him dead, only for him to be killed by a bomb in what should have been a safe place. And then there was the pressing question: if Alice and Edith had not yet returned to the nurses’ home, where were they?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
They had never seen, heard or smelled anything like it. The smoke was so acrid they could almost taste it. The skies towards the south of the city of Portsmouth were orange with the flames, and the noise of crashing and crackling as buildings caught fire or collapsed was overwhelming. For a short while Edith and Alice simply stood and stared at the conflagration before them, unsure what to do. Then good sense and survival instinct kicked in.
‘We can’t stay here in the open,’ Edith gasped. ‘Come on, there must be public shelters somewhere.’
‘I wish we’d checked,’ fretted Alice, who liked to be well prepared. ‘There must be ARP wardens here too, mustn’t there? We need someone like Stan or Billy.’ As they made their way back along the main road which led from the hospital in the direction of the station, they scanned the crowds, who all seemed to be rushing to every point of the compass. It was still only early evening and daylight, and yet the air was thick and murky, making visibility poor. Alice’s eyes itched from the smoke but she knew rubbing them would make it worse.
‘There. Look, over there.’ Edith had spotted the distinctive uniform and hurried across to the ARP warden, catching Alice by the elbow and bringing her along too. ‘Excuse me! Excuse me!’
The warden turned and to their surprise it was a woman, taller than them but not dissimilar in age. ‘How can I help?’ she asked, friendly but to the point.
‘We’re trying to reach the station to get back to London,’ Edith explained.
The woman grimaced. ‘Don’t get your hopes up. It’s been bombed and you won’t find anything running from there for some time. Do you have somewhere you can go?’
Alice thought for a moment, then shrugged at Edith. ‘We might as well help out, then. Are there heavy casualties?’
‘We don’t know yet but bound to be,’ the warden said starkly. ‘How can you help?’
‘We’re nurses,’ Edith explained. ‘District nurses. In the East End of London, usually.’
The warden nodded. ‘Then I dare say your skills will be useful. Do you know where the hospital is?’
They both nodded. ‘We’ve just come from there. We were visiting—’
The warden cut Edith off. ‘Then your best course of action is to go back there and see where you can be placed. It’s away from the path of the raid and so far safer than trying to head into the centre. I’m sorry but I must be off. Good luck.’ She strode off to where another warden was calling her, beckoning urgently. The pair of them disappeared into the murk.
Edith looked at Alice. ‘Will that be all right? Will they even believe us?’
Alice sighed. ‘I don’t know but they could always telephone Victory Walk, I suppose. I didn’t bring my badge but I talked to the matron when I went to get the tea earlier and we discussed how different her cases are to what we’ve been seeing – I’m sure she believed me; it’s not exactly the sort of thing you’d make up.’
Edith gave a short laugh. ‘That tea probably saved our lives. If we’d gone straight back to the station after seeing Harry, then we might well be goners.’ She sent up a silent prayer. After Alice had left her alone at Harry’s side, she had held his hand for what felt like ages, telling him over and over again how she loved him and would be waiting for him when he got better, and her reward had been another gentle but unmistakable squeeze from his hand. Finally, a young, dark-haired nurse had come over and gently pointed out how long she’d been there and that Harry needed to rest. ‘You can come back another time,’ she suggested.
Edith had felt like crying but had not given in to the wave of emotion. Instead she explained that she had to return to London and her job, and that the next visitors would most likely be his parents. ‘But I’ll write,’ she vowed. ‘Would you be able to read the letters to him, Nurse?’
The young woman had beamed. ‘It would be a privilege. I’m sure it’s done him good, to hear your voice. Say your goodbyes now, but I’ll make sure he gets your letters. Don’t worry about that.’
Edith had held herself together as she left the ward, feeling a little guilty at not speaking to Alfie, but too wrung out by the events of the day to attempt a new conversation. She had met Alice coming the other way along the corridor, bearing cups of tea, and they had sat on a bench near the ward doors, sipping in silence. It was only when she felt ready to face the world that Edith had stood once more. Those precious minutes had quite possibly saved their lives.
Back at the hospital, everything had changed. Ambulances were arriving, stretchers being lifted from them before the drivers set off back into the centre of the action for their next patients. Edith and Alice cautiously approached the main entrance, looking for anybody senior. By chance the matron Alice had spoken to earlier spotted them and came hurrying over.
‘So you didn’t get very far?’
‘We’ve been told the station has been bombed and there won’t be any trains, so we thought we could make ourselves useful here. If you’ll have us, that is.’ Alice was suddenly aware that they didn’t look much like nurses, as they were in their cotton summer dresses and light cardigans, all of which were smudged with soot.
‘The poor souls.’ Matron took a moment to absorb the bad news. Then she was all determined energy. ‘Right, well, some of our evening shift have failed to turn up, and I’m not about to speculate what might have happened to them, but you can indeed be of use here. You’d better come with me and I’ll find someone to fetch you spare uniforms and show you where to get cleaned up – you can’t go near patients in your frocks; we must maintain a professional appearance.’ Gwen would have loved this woman, thought Edith, as she followed her through the entrance hall and down a short corridor that smelt of disinfectant. ‘District nurses, you said? So you’ll have had experience of all sorts of patients? Good. You – Miss … Lake, was it? – will be needed on the women’s surgical ward; they’re very short of staff. You, Miss Gillespie, come with me, you’re going to the children’s ward. I trust neither of you are squeamish. Get changed, and prepare for a long night.’
It had been a long time since she’d been on a ward and, as Alice put on her loaned uniform, she wondered how she would adapt. The uniform was slightly too short and loose around the waist, but she supposed nobody would be paying it much attention. It would be the least of their worries.
With one of the local nurses escorting her to the ward and then leaving her to the overworked staff nurse, she had little time to dwell on it. Within moment
s she was comforting a woman in her late twenties who was recovering from having her appendix removed and very worried about the young family she’d had to leave in the care of their aunt. ‘What if they’ve been hit, I’ll never forgive myself,’ she moaned, as Alice firmly took her hand.
‘Now, you had no choice in the matter,’ she said kindly but firmly. ‘When an appendix needs to come out, it needs to come out. You would have been in far greater danger if you had not come in to hospital, and that would have been no good for your children at all. Try not to move around so much,’ the woman was twisting under the bedclothes in her distress, ‘you don’t want to break your stitches. The very best thing you can do for your family is to get well again as quickly as you can.’
The woman responded to Alice’s calm authority and sank back against her pillows. ‘Yes, Nurse. I know that, but it’s so hard.’
Alice nodded. ‘I’m not saying it’s easy. Everyone will be shaken up by today’s events but we can’t change them. You have to concentrate on getting back on your feet again, and the only way to do that is rest. Will you try to do that, difficult though it is?’
The woman nodded meekly. ‘I will, Nurse.’
Alice quickly filled in the woman’s latest details on the chart at the foot of her bed and then moved on to the next bed, where an older woman lay sleeping. She filled her water jug and set it down quietly so as not to wake her. She went from bed to bed down the side of the long ward, checking the current patients were as comfortable as possible before the inevitable happened and casualties from the bombing raids began to filter through from the operating theatre.
‘Over here, Nurse.’ Alice was summoned brusquely by a young doctor, evidently keen to get back to surgery and hand over his patient. ‘Kindly see to it that this lady is kept as still as possible until the next ward rounds. Here are her notes.’ Thrusting them into her hands he was off, and Alice was left to decipher the scrawled handwriting. The woman had been crushed by a falling brick wall and had had both legs operated on. They were safe under a raised cage but Alice could see the rest of her needed attention; there was still a strong smell of smoke about her and she had bruises all over. Gently Alice washed her down, using a cold flannel to help reduce the inflammation, but she had barely finished when she was needed to attend to the next arrival.
