Wartime Blues for the Harpers Girls

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘I had a wound in my side, but I’m fine now.’ He returned her smile. ‘I need to buy some food and clothes for my family. They don’t have much…’

  ‘Your family?’ Sally looked startled but quickly got to her feet. ‘What do you need? Take anything you want from any of the departments.’

  ‘I can pay – or I can when I get to the bank,’ Marco said. ‘My wife and child will need everything because we couldn’t bring much with us. I’ve been stood down by the War Office, Mrs Harper, and told to work here until I’m needed again.’

  ‘Yes – well, that’s good news for us. We’ve missed you,’ Sally said. ‘I insist that you take whatever you need today and it is a gift. You deserve that.’

  ‘You always were too clever for us to keep secrets from you,’ Marco said, nodding. ‘I do need your help because I have a wife and a small child to clothe and equip and I haven’t a clue what they need.’

  ‘Harpers’ girls will,’ she smiled. Sally Harper took the news of his marriage in her stride, though she was well aware of Marco’s previous love life. ‘Tell my heads of departments what you’re looking for and they will give you whatever you need.’

  ‘You’re a lovely person, Sally Harper,’ Marco said. ‘Thank you and I accept. Pierre is just over a year old and Sadie is a size 36 hip, I believe. We couldn’t bring much with us – and Sadie is British born, but Pierre was born in France.’

  Sally placed a finger to her lips. ‘You don’t need to tell me a thing – but do bring them in to meet me and we’ll find a few nice things for them both. There isn’t as much good-quality stock as there was, but we still have rails more than half full.’

  ‘Well done,’ Marco replied with a smile. ‘Please tell Ben I’d like to see him when he gets back.’

  ‘Of course. I’ll come with you and inform the heads of department of my wishes,’ Sally said. ‘So, when will you be starting work for us again?’

  ‘Next Monday,’ he replied. ‘I’ll need a few days at home to get things settled, make sure Sadie is comfortable, and then I’ll be here as usual.’

  ‘Everyone will be so glad to have you back, even if it is temporary,’ Sally told him. ‘I still can’t believe you’re here…’

  Marco couldn’t either. It felt unreal to be here in this fashionable London store instead of on a farm in France planning how best to attack the enemy patrols. He wondered whether Marie and Maman had got away safely and prayed they had. Perhaps one day, when this wretched war was over, he could go back and visit them…

  11

  Maggie was feeling so much better that morning when she went out into the rose garden. It was late July now and the sun was shining warmly, making her feel good to be alive. The nightmare of France, with the constant booming of the guns in the distance and the stench from the latrines and the overpowering stuffiness of tents packed with sick and dying men, seemed almost a dream now in this peaceful haven.

  When she saw the man sitting in the rose garden in his wheelchair, she almost turned back because he’d glared at her on each occasion that they’d passed each other in the gardens.

  ‘You don’t have to leave. I don’t bite…’ the harsh voice said as she hesitated. ‘You can come and sit on the bench, Maggie Gibbs. I know you want to…’

  Maggie walked to the bench and sat looking at him. In her hand she carried the novel she’d intended to read.

  ‘I didn’t want to intrude. I know you like to be alone.’

  ‘You know nothing about me, young woman. Don’t imagine you do, just because you were a nurse in France and they’re giving you a medal for outstanding service to the cause.’ He spoke as if he were old, but it was only in spirit; his young body was broken and damaged, robbing him of the vitality he should have felt at his age.

  ‘Who told you that?’ she asked but knew it would be Nurse Veronica.

  ‘Don’t you know all the men here are in love with you?’ he said, a sneer on a face that would be handsome without it. Despite his obvious wounds to his legs and the arm that gave him pain, which often showed despite his attempts to hide it, his face was still untouched. ‘All of them except me…’ he added bitterly.

  ‘I think you like to mock me,’ Maggie said and gave him a long searching look. In France, the men had all declared they were in love with all the nurses. It was just gratitude, combined with a rough humour, and the nurses either ignored it or smiled and went along with the joke. ‘I didn’t ask to be brought here, you know – nor did I want to steal your annexe.’

  ‘It’s only on loan,’ he told her brusquely. ‘You’ll leave and go home. I’ll still be here and I’ll get it back…’

  ‘Surely, you will go home one day,’ Maggie objected. She knew, because Veronica had told her, that he was healed as much as he could be. He’d lost the use of his legs, because his spine had been damaged and might never heal, and his arm would probably always give him some pain, but his heart was strong and he should be able to go home and lead his own life – yet she also knew from her experience nursing the men in France that his mind had raw wounds that might never go away.

  ‘My old friends can’t bear to look me in the eye, my fiancée stood me up and my father doesn’t understand that I can’t go back there. He says he can get a nurse to live in and that if I try, I can live almost a normal life… Normal! Stuck in this damned thing?’ His face twisted with pain and anger. ‘How the hell can I go home and live when I can’t ride the land like I used to and I need someone to help me get to the bloody toilet?’

  ‘A nurse would do that,’ Maggie told him patiently. ‘In time, if you exercise, you may be able to use a pulley to lift you into bed and things like that, perhaps even walk with crutches…’ She wasn’t sure about that, but damaged nerves did heal eventually, and she’d seen some miraculous recoveries in her two years of nursing.

  ‘Oh, thanks,’ he retorted sarcastically. ‘That is something to look forward to…what about all the rest of it? Marriage, love and sex… That’s made you blush, hasn’t it?’ He laughed unpleasantly, clearly pleased by his power to distress her. ‘Are you still a virgin then? You must be the only one to have nursed over there and come back untouched. What are you, a saint?’

  Why was he so angry with her? Maggie didn’t understand. Surely, this wasn’t all about the annexe?

  She looked him straight in the eyes. ‘The man I loved was shot down over the sea. He died in the freezing water serving King and country…’ Maggie said, staring him down. ‘I had friends, but no one I loved after that.’

  She wondered for a moment what had happened to Mick O’Sullivan, the Irish tunneller who had been so kind to her, but she hadn’t heard from him for ages. She’d really liked him, but she hadn’t had a chance to discover if it might become more. Before she’d truly recovered from Tim’s death, Mick had been sent somewhere else with his band of tunnellers and she knew their lives were precarious. His letters had come for a few months and then stopped – her mind closed then, because she didn’t want to think of him dead.

  She looked at Captain Morgan without flinching. ‘I’m not a saint, but I haven’t found anyone else to love.’

  He surprised her by relaxing into a softer mood, his tone sympathetic now. ‘I shouldn’t have said that, Maggie – and I’m sorry you lost your lover.’

  ‘So am I,’ she said and opened her book, but the words blurred on the page and she was aware that she was crying. She hadn’t done that for ages. ‘Sorry, I suppose I’m still weak from my illness…’

  ‘My fault…’ he said and stuck his hand out. ‘I’m Colin Morgan and I’m an ass and rude with it.’

  ‘Yes, you are,’ Maggie said, but the look on his face made her laugh and she took his hand. His fingers closed about hers, holding her firmly but without intent to harm. ‘It doesn’t matter – it was quite a while ago.’

  ‘You don’t get over your first love,’ Colin replied, his mouth hard. ‘Mine was called Charlotte and she rejected me when she discovered I couldn’t ever
walk again or have kids. She said she wanted a man not a cabbage.’

  ‘That was cruel of her,’ Maggie said. ‘You’re not a cabbage. Your mind is sharp, you’re just stuck in a wheelchair for the present. Besides, sex isn’t everything. You could adopt a child if you wanted; there are lots of them needing homes…’

  ‘Yeah – a home with a cripple. Some future to look forward to…’ he said, the bitterness back in his voice.

  ‘You know your trouble, you’ve let her win,’ Maggie said, understanding that it was his girl’s rejection more than his injuries that had soured him. ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself and fight. You don’t know how much you can do until you try. Get strong again and perhaps you’ll have a better life than you imagine, you might even learn to walk again. Some men who were badly wounded have done it…’ She got to her feet to walk away, but he caught her wrist as she attempted to pass him.

  ‘Please don’t go, Maggie. You’re the only one I want to talk to – the only one who understands, because you’ve lost someone too…’

  Maggie nodded. She’d mourned Tim hard, pushing herself to the limit and refusing to take leave, almost willing herself to the point of death in her grief. So, she understood his pain, far more than he could know. She placed her book on his lap and took hold of the handles of his chair. ‘Come on, it’s a lovely day, let’s walk down to the lake.’

  ‘You can’t push me all that way.’

  ‘Who says I can’t?’ Maggie demanded. ‘I want to visit it and you know the way – so I’ll have a damned good try.’

  Later that afternoon, Maggie sat reading the book she’d neglected until lunchtime. It had tired her to push Captain Morgan to the lake, but, seeing that, he’d wheeled himself most of the way back. Before that, he’d asked her if she would let him sit with her in the annexe on rainy days and she’d agreed he could.

  ‘Sister Foster will give me an ear-bashing if she catches us,’ he said with a grin, ‘but I like you, Maggie. I’ll be seeing you…’

  She’d smiled back. His smile was charming when he chose and although he was prone to moods, Colin Morgan was a man you could not help liking. She had learned that day that he had a sense of humour and was thoughtful in many ways. Before the war he’d been planning a career in cricket, at which he had once been very good, so Nurse Veronica had told her.

  ‘His father is wealthy – they have a big house and land. He was intended to spend a few years playing cricket and then take over the running of the estate from his father. As far as Sir Edmund Morgan is concerned, his son will still take over the estate in time. He sees no reason why he cannot employ someone to drive him around the estate in a pony and trap.’

  ‘Perhaps he will in time, but he needs space to heal in his mind as well as his body,’ Maggie said then. ‘Some men can’t wait to get back to their old lives, others just want vengeance on the enemy – and others give up.’

  ‘We thought Captain Morgan was one of those for a while,’ Nurse Veronica had told her as she tidied Maggie’s room. ‘However, Sister says she’s seen an improvement in his attitude recently.’

  ‘As I said, it needs time,’ Maggie had replied. Yet that day was the first she’d seen him smile properly at her. It was after they’d witnessed the heron rising from the lake and watched a family of ducks squabbling as the swans drifted majestically by.

  ‘This was a good idea of yours,’ he’d told her then and smiled in a completely natural way.

  Now, she looked up as her door was abruptly swung open and Colin Morgan entered scowling up at her from his chair for all he was worth.

  He gave her a belligerent look as she laid down her book. ‘You said I could come…’ he said ungraciously.

  Maggie might have pointed out that the arrangement had been he could use her sitting room when it was raining and the sun was still shining, but she didn’t. Captain Morgan was clearly angry and she wondered whether she should ask what had caused his mood but decided against it.

  ‘It’s him…’ he burst out. ‘I was feeling better – happier after our walk to the lake – but then he came. I’ve told him I don’t want to see him, but he won’t leave me alone.’

  ‘Your father?’ Maggie knew she’d guessed right when he looked directly at her.

  ‘He wants me to go home and have a live-in nurse who can wheel me about. There’s a male nurse who could lift me into the trap and drive me around the estate… as if I was a lump of wood with no feelings and no brain.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you rather go home than stay here for years on end?’ Maggie felt sympathy for his plight as she saw the conflicting emotions in his face. ‘I’ll be glad to leave when they let me go home… even though it is beautiful here. I didn’t know places like this existed.’

  ‘You can walk and do whatever you want – get married, have a family. I can’t do any of those things.’ His voice was acrid with bitterness and Maggie winced.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to,’ she said. ‘I think losing people you love hurts too much.’

  ‘And you ask me why I don’t want to go back there?’

  ‘Would the memories be too much there?’ Maggie asked and saw the answer in his face. ‘Then tell your father – explain that you need time to grieve and get over your loss. Tell him you want to live somewhere else.’

  ‘How could I do that? Where?’ he shot the questions at her fiercely.

  ‘Wherever you want,’ she said. ‘Perhaps a service flat somewhere and a nurse or housekeeper to look after you. It doesn’t have to be a man. You could employ a woman if you wished, I’m sure.’

  Colin Morgan looked at her oddly. ‘Yes, I could. I have a legacy from my great-aunt. She left me her house and money. It’s in South London…’

  ‘There you are then,’ Maggie said. ‘You don’t have to ask permission, just do what you want.’

  He laughed and for a moment she saw the carefree young man he must have been before he went to war. ‘You make things seem so easy, Maggie Gibbs.’

  ‘I didn’t say it would be easy, just that you could do it if you really wished.’

  He nodded, a thoughtful look in his eyes. ‘What were you reading when I arrived? Is it a romance?’

  Maggie smiled and showed him. ‘It’s the story of Tristan and Iseult. My father bought it for me when I was fourteen. I’ve read it many times.’

  ‘It is a tragic love story,’ he said and smiled. ‘But it’s better than a lot of the silly stuff that was written last century. At least it isn’t a Gothic novel – that’s what most girls read, if they read at all.’

  ‘Not the girls I know,’ Maggie said with a challenging look. ‘They usually go for romance or family stories.’

  ‘May I borrow this?’ Captain Morgan asked, picking up her book. ‘I promise I’ll return it.’

  ‘Yes – but it means a lot to me so don’t lose it,’ Maggie said.

  ‘Thanks.’ He grinned at her and glanced at his pocket watch. ‘I’ll take it and get out of your way before tea. I’ll return this as I found it.’

  Maggie allowed him to take her book. She wouldn’t have loaned it to everyone, but she believed that he would return it without damage. He was a strange, moody man but she understood that he had yet to come to terms with what his life would be now, and who could blame him? He’d had a wonderful future mapped out and it had all been taken from him. Maggie had lost everything too. She’d been content at Harpers and in love, but then she’d done what she felt was right and proper by volunteering and the war had robbed her of Tim’s love and the promise of marriage.

  She had a lot in common with Colin, but she hadn’t let her loss make her bitter and that was the difference. It would be good if she could help him to recover from his terrible regret.

  12

  Marion had been delighted to see Mr Marco back at Harpers before she left for her holiday with Reggie. She knew that he would be in charge of the windows for the foreseeable future and that meant she could go away and not feel she was leaving her employers in t
he lurch.

  ‘It’s a good thing he’s back,’ Reggie agreed when she told him, ‘but that job of yours is only for as long as you need it, Marion love. Once the war is over and I’m home, you can give up work altogether and stay home to look after our family.’

  Reggie was clearly thinking that they would have children soon and Marion wanted that too. She’d always had to go to work and had never thought much about when she would stay at home. Most men wanted their wives to stop going out to work once they married and she supposed she should have expected it, but she was a little bit sad to think she would need to say goodbye to Harpers. She’d got on well with everyone and loved serving customers with beautiful hats, particularly brides-to-be, but it was natural that Reggie should want his wife at home, particularly when their children were small. Of course, she might never fall for a baby, and if she didn’t, Reggie might change his mind.

  Marion dismissed the faint niggle at the back of her mind. Some of the women she knew at Harpers were married, but they didn’t have small children – except for Mrs Harper. However, Mrs Harper was different to most women and had a responsible job that no one seemed to think she ought to give up because she’d had a baby.

  Her first visit to a seaside hotel in Yarmouth took all Marion’s thoughts concerning Harpers clean away and she relaxed, enjoying lovely long walks along the promenade and on the pier with Reggie. The war, which the newspapers told them was now costing more than seven million pounds a day – an unbelievable sum to someone who earned just a few pounds a week – seemed far away.

  It was warm and fun and the days seemed to fly by as they spent their time in a haze of love and excitement. For a young couple parted so soon after their wedding by the war, this was a time of wonder and getting to know each other. As they ate bags of chips flavoured with lots of salt and vinegar or toffee apples on the beach, they explored each other’s thoughts and Marion discovered that Reggie was looking beyond his job on the docks.