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

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Our Last Goodbye: An absolutely gripping and emotional World War 2 historical novel Page 16

by Shirley Dickson


  ‘Sorry, Nurse.’ He cocked an eyebrow. ‘I’m speaking out of turn. But I just want yi’ to know the family’s appreciative, like, for all you’ve done for Da. Because we all know he can be a right bugger – sorry, Nurse – at times.’

  ‘Your dad is a model patient,’ she told him, tongue in cheek.

  They chatted some more as they walked, mostly about recent war news. Then, as they approached the roundabout at Chi, May saw Alec waiting on the opposite side of the road.

  She waved but he didn’t respond.

  Mr Harrison hesitated. ‘I’ll leave you then. I’m goin’ the other way down Laygate. Bye, Nurse. Thanks again.’

  With a smile that showed a row of lovely white teeth, he turned left and, whistling, continued down the road.

  ‘Who was that, then?’ Alec asked when she approached.

  ‘Oh, just a fella whose dad’s on the ward.’ Purposefully, she moved on from the subject of Mr Harrison. ‘It’s kind of your nana to invite us for tea.’

  ‘She can’t wait to meet yi’.’ Alec took her hand and started up the street.

  They walked down Whale Street to the bottom block, passing Etty’s house on the way. May imagined the two little girls indoors, felt the warm atmosphere that swept over her every time she walked into Etty’s kitchen. A pang of sadness enveloped May as cosy thoughts from the past filled her mind but she banished them away as this was not the time to deliberate what to do about Etty.

  Alec stopped outside a green door with peeling paint but a gleaming brass knocker.

  A wiry, grey-haired, elderly lady answered the door. She wore a pinny on top of a high-necked grey dress and cosy-looking furry slippers.

  ‘Come in… make yourself at home…’ She was rather bent as she led them along the dark passageway, which had that peculiar stale smell that invaded old folks’ homes sometimes. The kitchen reminded May of Etty’s the way the range’s fire seemed to belch smoke into the room.

  ‘May, this is Nana.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs…’

  ‘Call me Nana, everyone does.’

  ‘I’ve told you, Nana, to have that chimney seen to.’

  ‘Eee! You did, our Alec, I promise I will.’

  May couldn’t call the next two hours pleasant exactly, but she did survive and for Nana’s sake she tried to appear as though she was having a good time. The trouble was, Nana was too anxious to please and it put May on edge.

  ‘Mmm, scones.’ May was genuinely delighted when Nana took scones out of the oven and put them, risen and golden, on the table. ‘They look delicious. How d’you get them to rise like that?’

  ‘I don’t use that dried stuff, I use—’

  ‘An egg,’ Alec interrupted. ‘Nana saves her ration egg for me ’cos she knows scones are me favourite.’

  Nana fussed over everything and nothing was a trouble. Were the scones warm enough? Was their tea the right colour? No, May should sit down, she’d get the milk. Had they had enough scones, because they could share hers if they’d like? They should just say if they were cold, because it was no trouble to put more coal on the fire…

  ‘I’ve just borrowed a bucket of coal from me neighbour next door,’ she told Alec, who sat stiffly in the chair looking morose, probably because he couldn’t get a word in.

  Nana’s eyes darted about the room as she spoke and the poor old soul reminded May of a nervous bird.

  May was thankful when Alec stood up from his chair and said it was time for them to go.

  ‘So soon? You’ve just arrived…’ Nana looked as if someone had caught her pinching from the gas meter money pot. ‘Is everything all right, son? You’re not upset, are you?’

  Alec peered at the mahogany clock that ticked on the range mantelpiece. ‘Nana… we’ve been here over two hours.’

  Nana vigorously nodded. ‘All right, son. You know best.’

  With a fretful expression, she scurried away to bring their coats.

  When she returned, she looked at her grandson. ‘You’re not mad with me again, are you, Alec?’

  Without saying a word, he shrugged into his coat and left, May trailing behind.

  15

  ‘Let’s stay out a bit longer and go to the pub,’ Alec said.

  They stood at the top end of Nana’s street and the bigger than usual moon hanging in the sky held a ponderous expression as though it was trying to tell May something.

  ‘If you don’t mind, Alec, I’m bushed. I want an early night.’ May intended to tell him about the break-up when they reached Parklands.

  The vein ticked in his temple.

  ‘I want…’ Alec spat. ‘I know what you’re up to. You’re meeting with that fella, aren’t you?’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Him – I saw you talking to earlier.’

  ‘You mean Mr Harrison? I told you who he—’

  ‘I saw the idolising way you looked at him… and his smile was all knowin’.’

  ‘Alec, he’s a patient’s son and he’s married with a kid.’

  ‘When did that ever stop anybody?’

  In the moon’s eerie white light, Alec’s livid face was unsettling.

  May put on her professional head and thought of him as an angry and overwhelmed relative.

  ‘You’re upset. When you calm down we’ll talk this over but for now let’s—’

  ‘You conniving bitch… all the time carrying on behind me back. How many are there? Besides the one I saw at the dance and him this afternoon?’

  His face was now vicious. May, stunned and frightened at such abominable behaviour, knew arguing wouldn’t solve the matter.

  Alec had turned into a jealous lunatic.

  ‘I’m off home,’ she said, with authority, though she felt at a loss and vulnerable.

  As she turned to go, he grabbed her arm. May wriggled but couldn’t get free.

  A man passing by in the street, cigarette in his mouth, looked at them from beneath the rim of his trilby hat.

  ‘Please help me,’ May pleaded but the man ducked his head and hurried off along the street. Probably he thought it was just a lover’s tiff and didn’t want to get involved.

  ‘Let go of me.’ She struggled.

  Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a trolley coming from the left towards the bus stop the other side of Dean Road.

  It came to a halt.

  ‘I never want to see you again,’ she told Alec.

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ he sneered. ‘You’re not goin’ anywhere unless I say so. Or else I’ll beat the living daylight out of yi’. That’ll teach you to double-time me.’

  He let go of her arm and raised his own as if to strike her. Terrified, but with her wits about her, quick as a flash, May darted across the road. As the trolley pulled away from the kerb she jumped onto the platform and clung onto the centre pole for dear life.

  The conductor, a middle-aged man, tipped the peak of his uniform cap in agitation.

  ‘Miss, d’you want to get yerself killed?’

  Like Mam, May thought. And her chin wobbled – at this moment she desperately needed comfort from her mother.

  Her breath coming in short gasps, she found a window seat in the first row after she left the platform. Pulse racing, May was terrified. She gave an incredulous shake of the head. This was Alec, someone she’d grown fond of – but now a person who scared her witless. May would never trust her judgement about a man again.

  His poor nana, she thought, no wonder she acted so nervous.

  May paid her fare and the conductor gave her a ticket. The trolleybus, moving along Dean Road, turned at the roundabout and stopped while the conductor alighted from the platform. The passengers waited as he changed the trolley’s poles to another set of overhead wires. The deed done, the conductor came aboard again and rang the bell. The trolley continued up the road to the next stop.

  ‘Hawway, fella,’ the bus conductor shouted, his hand on the bell, ‘I’ll wait for you.’

  May gathered that so
meone was running to catch the bus. The hairs on her neck stood up. She knew before she turned who the ‘fella’ would be. She twisted around in her seat and, in the moon’s revealing light, she stared into the taunting eyes of the man she now most feared.

  He gave a nonchalant nod and then swaggered to the front of the bus behind the driver.

  She sat rigid, wondering what to do. She could explain to the conductor, but what could he do? He was just doing his job. The best course of action was to be first to alight from the platform then run hell for leather to Parklands.

  As the bus neared the stop, May rose and made for the platform. The bus conductor pressed the bell to alert the driver to stop.

  Alec stood up and started to make his way up the aisle.

  She said in an undertone to the conductor, ‘I’m a nurse at the hospital and the man behind is pestering me… Can you think of a way to give me a few minutes’ start when I get off the bus?’

  ‘Leave it to me, pet.’

  As the bus pulled up to the kerb, the conductor walked away to the front and blocked the aisle.

  ‘Fella,’ May heard him say. ‘Ticket please. I don’t recall you buying one.’

  May didn’t wait to hear more. Leaping from the platform, she raced across the road, all the while expecting Alec’s hand to grab her by the shoulder. She heard a bell ting and presumed it was the signal to start the trolley. On she ran until she tripped over the far side kerb, and landed painfully on a knee on the pavement.

  ‘Are you all right, hinny?’ A woman from the hospital kitchen peered down at her. There was a short queue of folk behind her. May realised that it must be past eight o’clock and the hospital had changed to the night shift. This queue was the staff making their homeward journey. Alec wouldn’t dare harm her here in front of everyone. She hesitated.

  Alec’s figure loomed in the darkness of the road.

  Without stopping to think, May, knee throbbing, hobbled towards the sanctuary of Parklands. She was only a few yards away when she heard the sound of breathing as someone ran up from behind. A hand gripped her by the hair.

  ‘Turn around,’ he demanded.

  The roots of her hair felt as if they were being pulled out and May, in agony, had no choice but to obey.

  ‘I told you it would be the worse for yi’ if you tried to get away. You belong to me and that’s how things are going to stay.’

  Despite the pain, defiance zipped through May. ‘I’ll never belong to you and you can’t make me.’

  Alec raised his free arm ready to strike and May closed her eyes, waiting for the painful blow.

  It never came.

  She heard gurgling noises. Opening her eyes, she saw an arm tight around Alec’s neck.

  ‘Let her go or I swear I will throttle you,’ a calm and composed voice said.

  May recognised the voice. Mercifully, her hair was released but her scalp still stung.

  The arm released from around Alec’s neck and he looked up at his adversary.

  Richard Bentley.

  ‘You’d better watch out.’ Alec, massaging his throat, spoke thickly.

  ‘Why? What are you going to do?’

  ‘Give yi’ a hammerin’.’

  ‘Choose a time,’ Richard goaded.

  Alec looked for a moment as if he’d go for Richard, then, as if he thought better of it, he sloped away.

  ‘I’m warning yi’. Watch your back.’

  ‘And I’m warning you,’ Richard shot back, ‘if you ever touch a hair of this nurse’s head, then I’ll come after you. Believe me, you will be sorry.’

  * * *

  They sat in a dim corner of the smoky pub with a beer in front of them. May didn’t like beer but she’d heard it was an acquired taste and besides, she didn’t know what else to ask for. She knew Richard was uncomfortable, worrying that someone might see them, and he kept checking around. May was touched.

  After Alec skulked away, she hadn’t been able to stop shaking. She hoped Richard wouldn’t notice.

  He did. In his deep and casual tone he asked, ‘How about I take you to the pub? You’ve had a scare. It’ll give you time to get over what happened.’

  It was the second time that day May had been invited to the pub, but although she had vowed she’d never trust another man again she knew with a certainty that comes from following her gut feeling that she was safe with him.

  May took another sip from the half pint of beer and tried in vain not to wrinkle her nose. ‘Where did you spring from?’ she asked.

  Richard had this habit of pausing before he spoke, as if he liked to think over what he wanted to say.

  ‘I’d just finished the late shift and was queuing at the bus stop when I saw a figure running from behind the trolleybus as if Satan himself was chasing her.’ His smile was brief. ‘I didn’t recognise it was you. Then a bull of a man raged after you and I knew that whoever you were, he spelt trouble.’

  ‘You came to the rescue.’

  ‘I just wanted to make sure you were all right.’

  May thought of all those other upstanding men in the queue who had looked the other way. She knew she was being unfair as some folk didn’t want to get involved, but she would be forever grateful that Richard wasn’t one of those people.

  ‘You’re supposed to be a pacifist,’ she reminded him.

  ‘When I saw it was you,’ he began, and then he paused and pursed his lips as he thought, ‘something snapped and I just wanted to stop that man whichever way I could. I’ve never felt that kind of hostility towards another man in my life.’

  ‘Good job you were bigger than him,’ May joked, as she tried to process what he’d just said.

  ‘It was clear the man was a coward at first sight.’

  May shifted uncomfortably but Richard didn’t seem concerned that he was using the description he was so often labelled with. ‘He chooses his opponent’s strength… that’s why he preys on defenceless women.’

  ‘That’s not me, any more,’ May vehemently replied, for she’d had enough of being manipulated by men. Dad – yes, if she were honest. Then Billy, too. Now Alec. But not any more.

  She said to Richard, ‘You were ready to brawl.’

  ‘The man only needed a scare. He’s probably afraid of his own shadow. He’s a bully.’

  ‘So is Hitler’ – she didn’t like the disapproval in her voice – ‘but you won’t do anything about him.’ There! She had told him what she thought.

  Richard took a swig of his pint, and then put the glass down on the table. His gaze held hers for a moment. ‘People should have the right to follow their innermost conscience. Mine tells me war and killing is wrong. I won’t be forced into helping in any way with war-making.’

  May pressed further. ‘Is it to do with your faith?’

  ‘I’m a Catholic, yes, but I’m not practicing. Though it has to be said that Christ preached love and not bloodshed.’ His lips pursed in that mutinous way May was beginning to recognise. ‘It’s a belief inside you can’t deny whatever your religion.’

  ‘Surely there was alternative work you could do.’

  ‘At the tribunal I was registered to join the army for non-combatant duties but I refused to go. It was still helping their war.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Richard paused as two men in uniform came into the pub. As a gust of cold air whipped around the tables, the servicemen closed the door. Richard watched as they passed the table and found a seat by the bar.

  ‘I was sentenced and taken away by military escort.’

  He shook his head. Though his eyes roamed the room, May realised he was someone who, though high-principled to a fault, cared not a jot what folk thought about him or the outcome of his actions.

  ‘The upshot was I was sent to Wormwood Scrubs prison for six months.’ A haunted look came into his eyes. ‘Something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.’

  May wondered how bad things had got but didn’t like to ask because Richard, a seemingly priva
te and proud man, wouldn’t want to invoke anyone’s sympathy.

  ‘And after?’

  ‘Finally, I was exempted by the authorities and I was sent to work in the hospital.’

  May knew by his tight-lipped expression this wasn’t the whole story but she didn’t press for more information. She didn’t know what she really thought about him. On one hand, she admired him for having the courage to stand up for what he believed in. On the other she agreed with folk, especially those who’d lost loved ones. Why should he be exempt while others were being killed keeping the country safe for the likes of him?

  Her dander up, May asked him, ‘What if everybody thought like you? Hitler would win.’

  Richard thought awhile, and then nodded. ‘I could say if all those that fought did think like me there’d be no war to win, but that’s too simplistic. The only fair answer I can give is that every man must do what is right by him and let God be his judge.’

  He stuck out his chin in an obstinate fashion and May couldn’t help but notice his chiselled features.

  She needed to take a step back, May thought, she was getting too involved. ‘I have to go.’ She jumped up and took her coat from the back of the chair.

  ‘I’d like to see you safely home to Parklands… if that’s all right by you.’

  How different he was to Alec, for whom everything was a demand.

  Richard drained his glass, then stood up, tall and fine with his black shiny hair and rather intense handsome face. Lordy Moses, she thought, why were the off-limits men so attractive? She’d always thought most married men were handsome brutes.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. I can take care of myself.’

  She saw the twinkle in his eyes and had the grace to blush.

  ‘All right,’ she said, ‘I give in.’ The thought of Alec lurking in the shadows was not a pleasant one. ‘Just this once.’

  She wanted to make things clear.

  After he left Nurse Robinson at Parklands, Richard decided to walk home. He needed to absorb all that had happened and besides, there was no rush to get back.

  It was as he passed the magnificent town hall’s sweep of steps that he began to recognise the uneasiness burning within him. Remembering what he said about how ‘men must do what is right for them and let God be their judge’, he knew he’d upset the nurse in some way. She was the kind of person who couldn’t hide their feelings. He was surprised that it mattered to him what she thought. But he couldn’t share his self-doubt – not with her or anyone. He alone must live with it.

 

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