Our Last Goodbye: An absolutely gripping and emotional World War 2 historical novel

by Shirley Dickson

  Maureen had this knack of making you feel special, May thought, and she was a good listener – no wonder Valerie had chosen Maureen to share her problems with.

  May made a mental note to be friendlier with Valerie, even if she didn’t respond – because everyone needed a friend. Her mind fleetingly thought of Etty and May wondered who she shared confidences with now. She gave a longing sigh.

  Maureen put the fireguard up at the fire. ‘Best we go upstairs. Sister might decide to do the rounds.’

  The vision of Sister Chilvers half asleep, stealing along the landing in her nightdress, suddenly amused May and she had the urge to giggle. It must have been nerves because she was exhausted and the night with Alec hadn’t been the success she’d anticipated.

  She got a grip of herself.

  ‘Before we go, can I ask you something?’

  Maureen nodded.

  ‘When you mentioned that caring for someone meant you should never hurt them, I got the impression you were upset.’

  ‘Didn’t I say you were clever and insightful?’ Maureen smiled. She let out a wistful sigh. ‘The thing is… Mum doesn’t want me to become a nun… she’s afraid she’ll lose me. And she will, if she carries on the way she does. What Mum doesn’t realise is that her actions are driving me away.’ She massaged her temples with her fingertips as though she wanted to rub away the problem from her mind. ‘I’m starting to resent her… and, May, it’s killing me.’

  May was shocked that even with all that belief in God, Maureen still had complications in her life.

  ‘I think you should tell your mam what you’ve told me.’ May nodded with conviction. ‘If I was her I’d want to know.’

  ‘D’you think so?’

  ‘I know so. Mams just want the best for their bairns… no matter what age.’

  Maureen put her arm around May’s shoulders. ‘One day that son of yours you’ve told me about will realise what a treasure he’s got as a mum.’

  Touched, May didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Come on.’ Maureen led the way. ‘Let’s go upstairs. I’ve got a present for you.’

  * * *

  As they tiptoed into the room, they could hear Valerie’s even breaths while she slept.

  ‘Don’t put the light on, it might disturb her.’ May was nervous of the ramifications if Valerie did wake up.

  A torchlight switched on and May, sitting on the bed, saw Maureen fishing in her locker drawer. She made her way back to the bed and placed something in May’s palm. And by the torch’s beam May saw what it was.

  ‘Rosary beads.’

  ‘They’re mine but I want you to have them. They’ll keep you safe. Come a day when you’re desperate and need to pray, use them and ask for guidance.’

  ‘I couldn’t… they’re—’

  ‘I insist.’

  At that moment, Valerie stirred and turned over.

  In the silence that followed, May felt torn; though she appreciated the gift, she doubted she would use the rosary beads because since Mam had died she found herself questioning her faith.

  Maureen pointed the torch beam at her wristwatch.

  ‘My goodness! It’s a minute past midnight. It’s nineteen forty-four. Happy new year, May. I pray all your dreams come true.’

  ‘Happy new year to you, Maureen, and I wish the same for you.’

  May hoped that her friend hadn’t heard the catch in her voice.

  She’d managed to stay busy all day, and keep her upset at bay – until now.

  There could be all kinds of reasons why Derek hadn’t sent a birthday card, not least being that neither he, nor anyone else at the farm, knew when May’s birthday was. But the fact remained, the lack of contact hurt like blazes.

  As tears seeped from her eyes, May was glad of the dark.

  14

  January 1944

  The next morning was May’s half day on the ward, and she stood with the rest of the nurses at the centre table and waited for Sister Jordan to lead prayers.

  ‘We’ll begin with the Lord’s prayer,’ Sister told the patients as she did every morning. She smiled at the patients, encouraging them to join in.

  After prayers, when the staff returned to the office, Sister gave out duties.

  ‘Nurse Robinson, help Nurse Bell to prepare the side ward for a new admission.’

  Side wards were used for special care nursing. When a patient’s health had improved satisfactorily, they were transferred back into the main ward.

  As she hurried along the corridor, May searched her still sleepy brain to think who had vacated the side room.

  Nurse Bell, a second-year nurse, petite and pretty with a heart-shaped face, greeted her with a pleasant smile.

  ‘Morning, happy new year, Nurse Robinson.’ First names weren’t allowed on the ward. Nurse Bell carried a basin and put it on the locker top. The room reeked of a strong, antiseptic smell.

  Together they stripped the bed and put the dirty linen in a laundry bag.

  ‘Whose bed was this?’ May asked, as she began washing the mattress and bed. ‘I recall it was empty when I went off duty yesterday.’

  Nurse Bell stood up from washing her side of the bed, and her eyes clouded in sorrow. ‘The airman’s… he was moved in here early yesterday evening. Poor boy didn’t make it.’

  As they made the bed, an atmosphere of deep sorrow descended upon the room.

  ‘Bloody war,’ Nurse Bell surprised May by saying. ‘Taking ordinary lads in their prime. You can’t stop to think about it, though, can you?’ She checked her side of the counterpane matched the length of that on the other side of the bed, and then her troubled gaze met May’s eyes. ‘What concerns me is, I’m starting to get immune to it all.’

  May told her, ‘I don’t think so. The very fact you’re concerned means you care. But we can’t get involved or else we wouldn’t be able to do our job.’ May repeated Sister Jordan’s words. ‘But that doesn’t mean we aren’t without compassion.’

  Nurse Bell looked at May with renewed respect. Then her eyes grew round with scandal. ‘The airman had company during his final hours.’

  ‘How d’you mean?’

  According to what I’ve heard, one of the porters sat with him. He was delivering an oxygen tank to the ward and saw the lad in the side ward. He took it upon himself to sit with him when he wasn’t on duty.’

  ‘Didn’t Night Sister tell him to scarper?’

  ‘Night staff were rushed off their feet and I think she turned a blind eye.’

  May was glad for the airman’s sake Night Sister wasn’t one of the old school nurses and didn’t keep to the rule book.

  Uncannily, May experienced a sense of déjà vu. She just knew what Nurse Bell would say next.

  ‘The porter was that conchie bloke nobody’s got time for. Cheeky blighter. Night staff were appalled and questioned Sister’s judgement – but only between themselves. But I agree with them… For heaven’s sake, who’d trust a conchie?’ Her face sharpened in judgement. ‘The nerve of the man. If I had my way I’d throw him to the lions, so to speak.’

  With a snort, the nurse smoothed the top of the counterpane, and began to wash the bedside locker inside and out.

  May, astonished at the outburst, found herself wanting to defend Richard. After all, he had comforted the young airman in his final hours and so he must have a compassionate heart. But she didn’t say anything because Nurse Bell had made her judgement and wouldn’t change her mind. It only went to show that where conscientious objectors were concerned, it brought the worst out in people.

  May thought of the mean way she had herself treated Richard. She blushed. A certain admiration had grown within her for him – for all he put himself through.

  The door opened and Sister Jordan stood there, bristling with impatience.

  ‘Nurses. You’ve taken your time.’ May stood to attention. She knew Sister Jordan meant business.

  ‘There’s been another crash landing, a Halifax bomber this t
ime… another landing practice that didn’t go well. The co-pilot is to be admitted to this ward.’ She turned to May. ‘You, Nurse, will go to the Casualty department and escort the patient to the ward.’ She looked at Nurse Bell. ‘While you will set up an enema tray for those patients about to have surgery.’ She pulled herself up to her full height. ‘Before either of you go to dinner see that the beds are tidy with pillow flaps facing away from the door, counterpanes straight and the ward orderly.’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’

  ‘Might I add, all of this should have been done long before now?’ Sister Jordan gave each nurse a glacial glare, and then stalked away.

  Nurse Bell wanted to know, ‘And when have we had time?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ May sighed, ‘there’s no pleasing Sister Jordan.’

  * * *

  In Casualty the cubicles were full of nervous-looking people who wished they were somewhere else.

  Then May saw Richard talking to a patient lying on a trolley. Did the man ever sleep?

  Then, without glancing round, Richard wheeled the trolley away and left through the double doorway.

  May was confused and didn’t know if she was glad or disappointed that he hadn’t acknowledged her. Then she wondered why she cared. Why did the man intrigue her so and draw her like a magnet? Common sense told her to back away but the empathetic part of May that saw the good side in folk, especially in someone who took it upon themselves to spend time with the dying, didn’t want him to suffer and felt bad for how she had treated him before.

  Her duties done, May made for the large and echoey dining room with round tables dotted around the room and a multitude of nurses both in uniform and mufti. Maids served dinner: lentil soup, then shepherd’s pie. May sat at a table with five nurses whom she knew by their appearance only but none of them acknowledged her. Each of them was recounting what they’d got up to on New Years’ Eve – two bemoaning the fact they’d had to work the night shift.

  ‘Use your loaf…’ a nurse told them, ‘at least you got Christmas off, jammy bugger. You can’t have it all ways.’

  ‘I’ve never had Christmas off for three years,’ another nurse complained.

  ‘Were you busy?’ someone asked.

  ‘Yes. We’d two deaths on the ward. Two old dears who’d been hanging on for days.’

  ‘Bad luck.’

  ‘Not really. We had a bet with ward eight – the other geriatric ward – on who’d have the most deaths during the night and we won.’

  Everyone laughed and May smiled good-naturedly. Finishing her shepherd’s pie, she rose and left the table. She knew those nurses would give their patients the best possible medical care and without doubt they weren’t cold-hearted or uncaring. Having a macabre sense of humour was sometimes the only way to cope. May knew those nurses had the choice but didn’t run away from their responsibility.

  It struck May that this was the kind of wise thing Etty Milne would say. As she walked over the hospital grounds towards Parklands, she stopped in her tracks. Etty wasn’t her friend any more. Pain squeezed in her chest and she could barely breathe. So much had happened recently she’d almost forgotten what the row was about. It had only been a few weeks since she’d last seen Etty, but it felt like a lifetime.

  Suddenly, it was as though her mind cleared, allowing the simple facts to present themselves. How could she – May rebuked herself – take a moral stand when she too had borne Billy a child out of wedlock? But May was confused, she admitted, as she didn’t know how she felt about her friendship with Etty any more.

  Billy had never promised her anything. Being Billy, he’d wanted the excitement of getting engaged because he’d joined up and was going to be sent abroad to an uncertain future. But he would never have settled down, May knew that now. She’d believed she could change him, but would she want him to change? In her heart, May would always love him but now was the time to let him go.

  With that thought, May realised that though the time had come to forgive and make up with Etty, she wasn’t quite ready yet. She had to get used first to the idea Billy was no longer part of her life.

  Tears welling in her eyes, May set off to walk the relatively short distance to Parklands.

  * * *

  Lectures that afternoon were given by a plastic surgeon: a tall, well-dressed man with a fine bone structure and a polished look about him.

  After tea, the nurses made their way up to their rooms.

  ‘Guess what?’ Maureen’s expression held fervour.

  The three student nurses, wrapped in blankets – for the weather outside, grey skies and rain, was depressing – lounged on their beds.

  Valerie pretended to be studying because she was still in a huff with the others.

  ‘I’m going to visit my parents and do what you suggested,’ Maureen told May. ‘They are stifling me and it’s time I did what’s right for me. I’m not a little girl any more.’

  ‘Oh my god.’ Valerie’s tone was sarcastic. ‘Mummy won’t be at all pleased about that.’

  May was horrified. Valerie had no reason to speak to Maureen in such a way.

  ‘No, I expect she won’t’ – Maureen spoke civilly – ‘but she’ll have to get used to the idea.’

  ‘So, what will you do?’ May suspected she knew the answer.

  ‘I’m going to follow my heart and become a nun.’ She looked intently at May. ‘Being a nurse is all very well but it upsets me when I have to leave a patient when they need me most and I’m forbidden to talk with them. I’m not cut out to treat them medically.’ She looked bashful as if she didn’t know how to go on. ‘It’s… their souls that concern me. Sometimes, all patients want is someone to listen to them.’

  ‘Jolly good show,’ Valerie’s voice broke in. Her tone was outlandishly posh. ‘You can help absolve all their sins.’

  Appalled, in an instant May knew what this was all about. Valerie was jealous of her and Maureen’s friendship and she felt left out.

  Weary of Valerie’s outbursts, May retorted, ‘Grow up, Valerie. You’re not the only one with problems.’

  ‘I never said I was.’ Valerie pouted. ‘Anyway, I wasn’t talking to you.’

  May got mad now. ‘Stop acting like a schoolkid.’

  Valerie stood up and looked as if she was going to throw the medical book she had in her hand at May.

  ‘Don’t…’ Maureen’s voice was calm.

  Valerie hesitated, then, turning, she slammed the door as she left the room.

  The bang still ringing in her ears, May collapsed back on the bed.

  Maureen rolled her eyes in mock horror. ‘I’m the redhead. I’m the one who’s supposed to have the temper. Seriously, though, the poor girl feels left out,’ Maureen confirmed.

  ‘There’s no need to take it out on others, though.’ May was cross for Maureen’s sake.

  ‘Promise me something. Valerie might live to regret her outburst in future, and if she does and I’ve left by then, tell her I forgive her and wish her well.’

  ‘Why, when are you goin’?’

  ‘I’ll tell Mum and Dad first, before handing my notice in to Matron.’

  * * *

  Alec had written to May asking her when her next day off was. His nana apparently was dying to meet her and had invited May to tea. Alec concluded, she says she’ll bake scones – Nana’s speciality.

  May felt bad that she hadn’t contacted Alec as promised, but she’d had reservations about meeting him after their last date. She was still disturbed by the memory of him grabbing her arm and making a fuss about that nice Navy serviceman who was, after all, only being friendly. May could understand his jealousy in a way as she’d often felt the same way herself when Billy had flirted with other women – but May had suffered in silence. She reminded herself that it was because Alec cared so much he acted the way he had.

  But Maureen’s words rang in her ears: what I do know is caring for someone means trusting and never hurting them.

  May came to a decision.
She would meet up with Alec, explain she wasn’t ready yet for any kind of romantic involvement and say that with work commitments and studying it would be best if they didn’t see each other for a while. That would be the kindest thing to do. She would be gentle as she knew Alec would be upset because he cared for her.

  May wrote to Alec telling him that her next day off was the following Sunday. She had intended to study all day but decided to set her alarm an hour earlier each morning before she went to work so she could make up studying time.

  * * *

  Sunday arrived, and May spent the morning revising but kept out of Valerie’s way because the rift between them hadn’t been mended.

  News broke that British forces had captured Maungdaw in Burma – an essential port for Allied supplies. The update brought further hope and spirits ran high that the New Year might bring peace at last.

  Late that afternoon, May made her way down Dunlop Road to meet with Alec at the corner of Chi.

  Halfway down the street a male voice called out, ‘Wait, Nurse Robinson.’

  May turned and saw the son of one of the patients on the ward. Mr Harrison was recovering from an operation on his back and May had seen his son visiting at the hospital.

  Mr Harrison junior caught up with May. A pleasant, good-looking bloke, he wore a khaki uniform. May knew that he had a wife and bairn because Mr Harrison senior kept a photo of them all on his locker top.

  He beamed a friendly smile. ‘I’ve just been in to visit with Da this afternoon. He’s doing grand. When d’you think he’ll come home, Nurse?’

  Embarrassed, May was at a loss how to answer. She’d get into trouble discussing patients on the street.

  ‘Better talk to Sister,’ she answered diplomatically.