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

by Shirley Dickson

  Etty had made a mistake but May couldn’t condemn her, not with her own messed-up history. She’d heeded what Ramona had said about not making it up with her sister before it was too late.

  It was time for May to stop feeling sorry for herself and face the future and it would be marvellous to have her best friend to share it with once more.

  Purposefully, she set off over the road and rapped the heavy black knocker on Etty’s front door.

  May only hoped she hadn’t left making up with her friend for too long.

  * * *

  As the door opened, May heard Etty’s voice say, ‘Trevor, not again. You’re always forgetting—’

  Etty, in full view now, Norma in her arms, stopped mid-sentence, her face changing from mild annoyance to an expression that looked positively unsure.

  ‘May, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I came to see you. Can I come in?’

  For a split second Etty’s face showed incredulous disbelief. May, taking it as a sign of displeasure, expected the door to slam in her face.

  Then Etty broke into a wide grin. ‘Course you can. It’s taken you long enough.’ She spoke with her usual candour. ‘But seeing how much I wronged you, I’m not surprised.’

  She swallowed hard and, eyes glistening with tears, led the way along the passageway and into the kitchen.

  She set Norma on the floor and the bairn, looking adorable in pink pyjamas, looked at May with wide-eyed curiosity.

  Etty said, ‘It’s nearly bedtime, pet. Here’s your picture book.’ She handed Norma a large book off the table. ‘Find Mammy an elephant.’

  The bairn crouched on the floor and began turning the book’s pages.

  May looked around. The place looked comfortingly the same as it always had. She was thrilled there was no animosity in the atmosphere. Etty, as open as the picture book Norma looked at, would tell her straight if there was.

  ‘Where’s Victoria?’ May asked. ‘I bet she’s grown since I last saw her.’

  ‘In her cot. Unlike this little monkey.’ Etty nodded to her daughter. ‘Victoria likes her sleep.’

  Etty plonked on a fireside chair. ‘I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. I’ve missed you so much, May.’

  ‘I feel the same way.’

  ‘I don’t blame you. I do understand how devast—’

  ‘Don’t. It’s over and done with now. I don’t want anything to come between us any more. Besides, you wouldn’t believe the mess I’ve made of things recently.’

  ‘Try me.’

  May flopped into the opposite fireside chair. She gazed into the meagre fire that had a large mesh fireguard surrounding it.

  ‘May, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. Is it to do with work?’

  ‘It’s… everything.’

  Etty looked directly at her friend. ‘I know what you’re thinking. Come on, you can tell me. I want to share your troubles.’

  ‘That not why I’ve come. I’m here to say I’m sorry for not answering your letters.’

  ‘You were mad at me… and you had every right to be.’

  ‘And for calling you a slut.’

  ‘Yes. That was a bit much.’ Etty gave a mischievous grin.

  May asked. ‘Does Trevor know about… Billy?’

  Etty opened her mouth to answer but Norma stood up and came over to show her the book.

  ‘Elfant,’ she said.

  ‘Clever girl.’ Etty clapped her hands. ‘Now find Mammy a pussy cat.’

  The bairn crouched on all fours.

  ‘Yes,’ Etty answered, ‘I told him before we married.’

  ‘Blimey. And he still went through with it. He’s a man in a million.’

  Etty gave a fond smile. ‘I know. I don’t know where I’d be without him. Probably in the workhouse. That’s what can happen to unmarried mothers.’

  May felt the blood drain from her face.

  ‘May, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Oh, Etty I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘From the beginning.’

  Like a dam overflowing, the words spilled from May’s mouth.

  All the while Etty listened, open-mouthed.

  ‘So, how can I condemn you, me best friend,’ May finished her story, ‘when I’ve behaved much worse? Me da’s right; I’ve become a slut.’

  ‘May, don’t say that. In your case you fell in love and both men turned out to be bastards.’

  A part of May wanted to rebuke Etty, tell her Richard was anything but; then she considered the facts and had to admit that was how things appeared.

  ‘How awful for your friend Maureen.’ Etty shook her head sorrowfully. ‘She sounds special.’

  ‘Oh, Etty, you’ve no idea. I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone so pure of thought and deed in me life.’

  Etty went silent and May knew her friend needed time to digest all she’d told her.

  ‘It sounds like a story from the flicks,’ Etty finally said, ‘but then I never worry because I know the story is contrived and will have a happy ending.’ She regarded May and gave a helpless shrug. ‘All this is too much to take in, let alone for you to live through. May, how strong you’ve been to endure these troubles.’

  Norma toddled over with the picture book. ‘Gog.’ Her fat little finger pointed to the page.

  ‘Dog,’ Etty corrected.

  She hauled Norma onto her knee and nuzzled into her neck. The bairn broke free and whinged to be set down, where she picked up a dolly and put her in a rather battered little pram.

  May, watching the toddler’s antics, voiced her thoughts. ‘I can’t imagine loving another bairn as much as I do Derek.’

  ‘Love is like elastic and can be stretched,’ Etty told her. ‘I found that out when Dorothy died and I took in Victoria. Even though she’s my niece I love her just as much as Norma.’

  They lapsed into a contemplative silence.

  Then Etty spoke, her voice gentle. ‘You’ve big decisions to make. I’m here to help… if you’ll let me.’

  May thought of how vulnerable and alone she’d felt earlier, and how different things were now she was reunited with her good friend.

  ‘Thank you… it’s good to have you back in my life again.’

  ‘First we must tackle what you’re going to do when the baby starts to show.’

  ‘I haven’t a clue. I avoid thinking about the future. I pretend none of this is happening.’ She met Etty’s anxious gaze. ‘I do know it’s time I faced reality.’

  ‘Have you any thoughts about what you’re going to do when the baby arrives?’

  ‘I’m not giving this bairn away.’

  In the heavy silence that followed May knew her friend’s thoughts.

  ‘I know. I might have no other alternative.’

  She burst into tears.

  24

  ‘Nurse!’ Night Sister’s voice brought May out of her trance. ‘Are you dozing?’

  Startled, May jumped. ‘Of course not, Sister.’

  Weeks had passed and May, sent to do a stint of night shifts by Matron, found herself assigned to the Maternity ward.

  She was sitting in the nursery feeding a baby from a banana-shaped bottle.

  Night Sister Turnbull glared at May. ‘Baby will be sucking air and getting wind if you don’t take care.’

  ‘There’s still milk left in the bottle, Sister.’

  Sister didn’t hear as she’d already left the nursery and closed the door.

  ‘Dozing indeed,’ May told the little one in her arms. His pink cheeks sucking, he looked up with all-knowing blue eyes.

  ‘I am taking care of you, cutie, aren’t I?’ May smiled.

  The bottle now drained, she moved to the changing table and, placing the baby on it, she removed the sodden cloth nappy and replaced it with a clean one from the basket. Securing the nappy with a safety pin, she placed the baby, wrapped tightly in a blanket, in the cot.

  May washed out the bottle and then proceed
ed to stack the side bench with fresh cotton nightdresses from the airing cupboard.

  The nursery door opened and Staff Nurse walked in.

  ‘Your turn for supper.’ She eyed all the silent cots. ‘Gracious, Robinson… you seem to know the trick of having a quiet nursery. I’ll do nights with you any time.’

  ‘I like being in the nursery,’ May replied. ‘Especially when I’m bottle-feeding. It passes the time.’

  It was true, she thought, as she made for Sister’s office. She enjoyed seeing the little ones’ faces seemingly bloat when they were satisfied. She snapped her mind shut as her thoughts turned to the scrap of life she carried; she couldn’t allow herself to fall in love with it or think of it as a person.

  Sister sat with the door open, notes before her on the desk.

  ‘Nurse Robinson reporting off duty to supper, Sister.’

  ‘Very well, Nurse.’ Sister didn’t look up. ‘Leave the door open. I want to hear if I’m needed in the labour room.’

  As May hurried over to the dining hall she looked up into the bright starry sky – the kind of night to expect an air raid.

  There were only two women in the delivery room. One had delivered half an hour ago and the other was in the last stages of labour. If Jerry did show up, it was May’s job to get those able patients with babies into the shelter. But those in the delivery room unable to be moved stayed with their babies as no mother was to be parted from their little one. Night Sister stayed with them on the ward.

  * * *

  May entered the bright and noisy canteen where nursing staff sat at large round tables. She went over to the counter and decided she’d have sausage and mash followed by semolina pudding.

  As she ate someone came and sat beside her and when she looked up she saw Valerie, elbow on the table, head resting on her hand, gazing intently at her.

  ‘I hear the conchie’s gone.’

  ‘I hear you’ve got a fella in tow.’

  ‘Ooo, May. That was sharp. You’ve got good at answering back.’ When May didn’t reply, Valerie continued, ‘I thought I’d find you here. I didn’t want to go without tellin’ you I was leavin’.’

  Fork in hand, May gaped. ‘Why? Where are you going?’

  ‘To work at the factory. It’s regular work with good money and no bums to wash.’ Valerie pulled a jokey face.

  May’s fork clattered on the plate.

  ‘But why?’

  Valerie sobered. ‘Lots of reasons but the main one is I get to live at home with Mam and the bairns and I don’t have to study.’

  ‘I thought you wanted to get away from all that.’

  ‘So I did, but when Maureen died, a lot changed in me mind.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Who I am…’ Valerie looked young and carefree, without that belligerent look on her face. ‘I can’t run away from meself. It killed me to see how Mam couldn’t cope when I went home on me days off and the bairns suffering. Here was me looking out for other folks when…’ Her chin wobbled and she couldn’t answer. ‘I mean if anything happened to any of them…’ She collected herself. ‘Hark at me getting maudlin. Anyways, I’m not cut out to be a nurse. I knew straight away but I was fighting it. You have to do what your conscience thinks is right… Maureen taught me that.’

  They avoided each other’s eyes; the hurt was still too raw for both of them.

  ‘Matron can’t have been pleased.’

  ‘That’s putting it mildly. She was convinced there was a fella.’ The defiant smirk was back. ‘Course, I denied it.’

  ‘Who is he?’ May wanted to know.

  ‘His name’s Norman. He works at the pit and lives just a few doors up from Mam.’

  May could swear she saw a dreamy look in her friend’s eyes.

  ‘Anyway.’ Valerie appeared uncommonly serious. ‘I came to tell you I was sorry the way I acted about that Richard fella. To be honest, if he wasn’t a conchie, he seemed a decent sort.’

  For one split second May was going to confide in Valerie but the moment passed as she noticed her friend’s eyes glaze over.

  Valerie stood. ‘I won’t miss this place. But I’m glad I got to say goodbye to you.’

  May smiled. ‘Same here.’

  ‘See you.’ Valerie gave a little wave and walked away.

  They both knew they’d probably never meet again. That was life, May believed. Sometimes you encountered someone for a purpose and when that reason was met, you might never see them again.

  Maybe Valerie had been sent with her contrary moods to toughen May up – and to remind her of what Maureen had said.

  You must do what your conscience thinks is right.

  May pushed the plate of food away.

  * * *

  When May did the night shift she found that by six o’clock in the morning her brain had turned to mush and she was so tired she was unable to think. But it was also the time when babies were handed out from the nursery for an early morning feed. May had to concentrate or else she might get muddled and give a baby to the wrong mother.

  A baby in May’s arms, she read with special care the name written on a band around its wrist. When all the babies were safely in their mothers’ arms, May made a beeline for the kitchen and revived her dead brain with a cup of tea.

  As soon as her shift finished and the day shift nurses arrived and were given the report, May hurried from the ward. Instead of making for the Nurses’ Home and sleep, she went to the little chapel in the hospital. Here she sat in one of the seats staring at the Virgin Mary, whose head was embellished with a golden halo and who held little baby Jesus in her arms.

  The chapel had only three rows of seats and May imagined all those folks who’d sat, heads bent in prayer, making bargains with Christ as she was about to do now.

  She put her hand in her pocket and brought out the rosary beads Maureen had given her.

  Dear Lord, my conscience is telling me not to give up the baby on any account. But I don’t know how to manage, without a home, and no job and nobody that really cares except Etty and she has her hands full.

  I know there’s a way around this but I can’t think of anything. You can work miracles; please work one for me now and I promise this bairn will be christened and brought up in the faith.

  Amen

  May crossed herself, something she’d never done before and she felt rather foolish but she wanted Him to know how sincere she was.

  He can see in your heart, a voice whispered in her head. May’s overtired and overwrought mind thought it might be Mam. May found the idea of her still being around comforting. She stood and made her way out of the hospital and over the grounds to the Nurses’ Home where she passed the open door of the day room. The voice of a newscaster blared from the wireless and through the open door.

  ‘Hey, Robinson, is that you?’

  May entered the room where a few nurses were lounging on chairs. A second-year nurse who May had worked with told her, ‘You missed a letter yesterday so I popped it under your door.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  May hurried up the stairs and, unlocking the door, picked the white envelope off the floor.

  She didn’t recognise the handwriting at first but then her muddled brain remembered.

  Pulse racing, she tore the letter open.

  Darling May (Please read this!)

  Forgive me. I do love you and I never intended to hurt you as you must think.

  When you told me the wonderful news of our baby I meant every word I said. But what you didn’t know was that my news was that I’d been given the sack. I suspect because of us! John told me. He’s a decent sort and he was upset on my behalf.

  Darling girl, I despaired because I didn’t know what to do but when I heard about our baby my world rocked and, in that instant, I knew I couldn’t carry on as my conscience had changed and my duty belonged to you and the baby.

  If I’d told you my intention, I mightn’t have found the courage to leave you. My love, I applied to the
tribunal to overturn my plea as a conscientious objector. It has now been done. I went to the labour exchange and joined up. With my previous record I was posted to – the next words were censored – to become a medical orderly. As well as basic training – first aid, stretcher-bearing, bandaging and so forth – I have to learn military discipline which includes drill. And though the Royal Army Medical Corps is a non-combatant unit I do have to learn about weapons but for self-defence purposes only – which as you can imagine, suits me fine. I’ll be posted to a unit after training and then I’ll be sent who knows where.

  This letter is a lot to take in, I know, but my heart belongs to you wherever I go.

  My main worry is for you and the baby, how you will manage about money as I know your days at the hospital are numbered.

  I have arranged for the large portion of my pay allowance to be sent to you so you won’t have to worry immediately about finances.

  My other news is that I went to see my parents but with no joy. Ma and Pa still display resentment towards me which I can live with. I could see by their expressions that being a medical orderly didn’t fit the bill. But I wanted them to know about you and their expected grandchild and so I told them where they could find you and it’s up to them now as I’ve done my bit.

  Darling, please find it in your heart to forgive me for leaving. The reason for all I’ve done recently is for one thing only – so I can look my child in the eye, tell them I did my bit to help keep you and them in a country safe to live in.

  I promise when I return home I’ll prove my love and hopefully you will agree to wedding bells and all that entails. Darling, this isn’t much of a proposal but I will do the deed properly on my return.