Together for Christmas

by Carol Rivers

As she sat alone in the airey with the luxury of a small fire, she thought about the freezing Russians, the troops in the flooded trenches of the Front and Michael, from whom she had not yet heard. And felt guilty that she was comfortable and safe from danger when he wasn’t.

  Then one early April day, the sun suddenly broke through the clouds. ‘America joins us! Now we’ll show ’em!’ the newspapers vendors shouted on every corner. ‘The doughboys will soon be in Flanders alongside our troops and giving Fritz the pasting of his life.’

  The news soon reached the surgery and Flora listened to the excited cheers of the waiting patients. From the depths of despair last week they were now jubilant, anticipating a swift victory.

  But the doctor made only one comment.

  ‘America is flexing its muscles, doing as Britain did over two-and-a-half years ago, when thousands of our young men volunteered to fight for king and country.

  ‘And never returned home again.’

  One evening after work, Flora found a letter on the mat. It was addressed to ‘Miss Flora Shine’ and was written in a hand she didn’t recognize.

  Flora took off her cap, let loose her hair and sat by the unlit fire. Slowly unpeeling the sealed edge of the envelope, she took out the letter. It was written neatly on a sheet of plain white paper. The address in the top left-hand corner stated clearly, the Bristol Infirmary for War-Wounded.

  ‘Dear Miss Shine,’ the writer began, ‘I am a nurse working at the infirmary and care for the wounded veterans of war. One of our patients is Private William Boniface from the London Regiment.’

  Flora’s heart almost stopped. Will was alive! Alive! Could she believe it? After all the months of silence, the news had come that not only was he alive, but in Bristol, England. Then slowly her eyes refocused and her heart steadied as she read on:

  William received injuries in France last year and was taken first to a dressing station and after, to the casualty main clearing station and finally to a base hospital. His injuries were assessed and in December it was decided to return him by hospital ship to England. I am aware he regards you as closest to him and you may wonder why we have not contacted you before. It is enough perhaps to say that the nature of William’s complicated injuries have meant he has been treated at several hospitals across the country. Our infirmary has been his last port of call and we are considering his discharge to convalesce. It is with this in mind that I hope you will write back, perhaps with the suggestion of a visit to William. I can offer you transport from London to Bristol with the help of the Red Cross. My sincere regards and in anticipation of your reply, Nurse Sara Parkin.

  Flora read the letter again. She wanted to feel joy that Will had survived and was about to be discharged from the infirmary to convalesce. But her instincts told her that there was much more to this letter than Nurse Sara Parkin had decided to write.

  ‘Of course you must go,’ the doctor said after reading the letter the next day. ‘Whatever Will’s injuries, I’m sure he will want to see you.’

  ‘Nurse Parkin didn’t say.’

  ‘We can only conclude that Will is struggling with his recovery.’

  Flora had been thinking of the possibility that Will may have lost a limb. Or had he been caught in the clouds of poison gas? How would she react when she saw him? She must try to think of him as a patient, as she did at the surgery. ‘I’ll write back to Nurse Parkin and accept.’

  ‘Would you like company, my dear?’ Dr Tapper leaned forward as he sat at his desk. ‘I am sure one or two days away from our patients won’t hurt.’

  Flora wanted to say that she would like nothing more than to have him at her side. But she also knew their patients came first.

  ‘We could travel to Bristol on Saturday morning and return on Sunday,’ he suggested with a light shrug. ‘I’ve great regard for Will, as you know. He is a most personable young man. But without doubt, he will have suffered and I should like to be there to help you both.’

  Flora felt close to tears. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘We shall pull together for Will’s sake.’

  That night, Flora wrote to Nurse Parkin. She told her that both she and Dr Tapper would visit and would be most grateful of the offer of transport.

  It was a bright May morning when Flora and Dr Tapper stood together in the courtyard of the London Hospital, awaiting their transport. The weather had turned warm at last and Flora had dressed in Hilda’s blue suit and had bought a small blue hat from the market. She hoped that the colour was bright and cheerful and would please Will, who must have spent many months in the drab environments of the hospitals.

  Nurse Parkin had replied with information on where to meet the ambulance and a warning that the vehicle might stop on several occasions to fill its tank with fuel. ‘The Red Cross ambulance that is to take you is spartan,’ Nurse Parkin wrote, ‘but is reliable and will be quicker than a horse-drawn vehicle.’

  The hospital grounds were very busy. Flora saw many disabled veterans climbing from ambulances or being stretchered on to others. Flora thought that the ambulance that arrived to take them to Bristol did indeed look old and battered.

  But their driver was young and energetic. She wore a tunic of dark grey, a belted jacket and calf-length skirt with sturdy laced-up shoes. Her small cap bore the emblem of the Red Cross and she smiled warmly as she held out her hand. Flora took it and felt her firm handshake.

  ‘I’m Sally Vine,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Sorry about the stretchers piled inside but yesterday I delivered to Brighton and didn’t get home till late. Still, I think we’ll squeeze you in,’ she explained as they walked round the high-sided van which displayed a large red cross on a white background.

  They all peered into the rear of the vehicle. A strong smell of fuel and disinfectant curled unpleasantly in the air. There were stretchers on one side and a large white box above them, labelled first aid. On the other side, behind the driver’s seat, were four wooden flaps that folded down to make seats.

  ‘This ambulance is a converted lorry and used to transport the wounded troops from London to military or private hospitals,’ Sally said apologetically. ‘I’m afraid so many men are returning from war now that the ordinary hospitals are unable to take them. Hence the importance of vehicles like this. No matter where the patients are sent, we deliver them.’ She paused. ‘Is it family you are travelling to see?’

  ‘We’re visiting my friend, Will,’ Flora replied.

  ‘Have you gone before?’

  ‘No. A nurse wrote to say he’ll be discharged soon.’

  Sally gave an understanding nod. ‘I see. Well, we’d better get on with it. Now I’ll just let the tailboard down and you can sit.’ She unlatched a chain on either side of the back and lowered the tailboard.

  ‘We don’t want you sliding about,’ Sally said with a grin as she pulled down the wooden flaps for them to sit on. ‘You must excuse our Heath Robinson standards of travel.’

  Flora smiled. This was luxury compared to Albert’s cart.

  Minutes later, Flora was sitting behind the driver with Dr Tapper beside her. The clattering vehicle bumped and rocked along the roads of the East End, whilst Sally talked over her shoulder. Flora was not surprised to hear that their driver was a member of the suffrage movement.

  ‘Have you ever thought of joining us?’ she asked Flora.

  ‘No, not really.’

  ‘I’m sure we’ll have the vote soon. We are doing so much to help the war effort that we must be recognized as equal to men. Things are changing for women, you know.’

  ‘Did you drive before the war?’ Flora asked.

  ‘My brother has a car and he taught me to drive. But now he’s at the Front.’

  ‘Oh, so was Will, the friend I’m going to visit.’

  A big bump in the road caused Sally to slow down the ambulance. ‘Sorry about that. Was he badly wounded?’

  ‘The nurse didn’t say. Only that they are sending him to convalesce.’

  Sally turned b
riefly. ‘I hope not to somewhere in the wilds.’

  ‘She didn’t say where.’

  ‘If you have somewhere in mind, then my advice is to speak up before they take action. Tell them where you want him to go.’

  At once, Flora thought of Adelphi Hall. ‘But would they listen to me?’

  ‘Do you have connections to this place?’ Sally enquired.

  ‘It’s a country house called Adelphi Hall. Hilda, our friend, is a maid there. Part of it has been turned into a hospital for the war-wounded.’

  ‘Sometimes it helps to have a name.’ Sally slowed the ambulance for a line of black and white cows being herded across the country road. ‘Most big houses have been requisitioned by the government,’ she agreed as they moved on again. ‘It’s worth making yourself and your opinions known. Remember the motto of the Suffragettes: “Deeds not words”. Perhaps start with this nurse who wrote to you.’

  Flora decided she would do just that. How wonderful it would be if Will could be close to Hilda. Flora hoped the doctor would wake so she could tell him about Sally’s advice. But he was still fast asleep.

  Flora listened to Sally as she talked about the suffrage movement. Though Flora admired these women, she was not a militant. She wouldn’t chain herself to a railing or go on hunger strike in prison. Although, now Sally had given her this advice, she knew she had to speak up for Will.

  ‘Just look at what women are doing for the country,’ Sally shouted over her shoulder. ‘We perform most jobs that men do. I worked with the Red Cross at the field hospitals in France for six months. Nothing prepares you for what you see there. Man or woman, you just have to get on with it.’

  Flora’s tummy jolted. Here she was, making plans for the future, when she hadn’t even seen Will yet. How was she going to feel when she saw him? Whatever injuries he had, she mustn’t let her feelings show.

  When the ambulance stopped to take on fuel, Dr Tapper woke up. ‘Are we there?’ he asked, sitting up on the uncomfortable wooden seat.

  ‘No, but Sally has given me an idea.’ Flora couldn’t wait to tell him. ‘It would be wonderful if Will was sent to Adelphi Hall.’

  Dr Tapper raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘The authorities will have their own ideas on that.’

  ‘Yes, but so have I.’

  A gentle smile touched his lips. He patted her hand. ‘There’s no doubt about it: when you make up your mind on something, Flora, you have a certain look about you.’

  She blushed, but she was also excited. Somehow she would make Nurse Parkin see the sense in her idea.

  By the time they set off again the weather was on the turn. From a bright, clear day, heavy clouds now filled the sky. Flora watched Sally with admiration as she battled the ambulance through the pouring rain. All the while, another part of Flora’s mind was working. Sally had asked her if she knew of a contact at Adelphi Hall. She didn’t, but perhaps Hilda did.

  ‘Dratted weather,’ Sally mumbled as she peered at the drenched windscreen and hard-working single wiper. Her only protection against the storm was a large tin plate over her head and a flimsy canvas flap.

  Meeting this independent and courageous young woman had been a blessing. Flora knew that if she wanted Will to go to Adelphi Hall then it would be up to her to set the plan in motion.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  After almost a day’s travel they finally arrived at the infirmary. The rain had stopped at last and the air was still damp under overcast skies.

  ‘Well, good luck,’ Sally said as they climbed from the ambulance. ‘Don’t forget what I told you, Flora.’

  ‘I won’t.’ Flora watched her go. She had felt inspired in Sally’s company. But when she turned to discover a long line of wooden huts silhouetted in the hospital’s grounds, her heart sank. There were dozens of patients being wheeled in Bath chairs and just as many on crutches. The smell in the air was sickly. ‘These huts look like garden sheds,’ Flora said dejectedly. ‘Do you think Will is in one of them?’

  ‘It’s the work that’s carried on inside them that’s important,’ the doctor reminded her as they went up the steps to the main infirmary. ‘I’m sure Will has had the very best of care.’

  The high-ceilinged hospital was also full of milling people. Flora took the doctor’s arm. ‘Nurse Parkin said she would meet us here, if we ask for her at reception.’

  They pushed their way through to a long queue. Two women in business-like suits worked furiously amongst the many papers and files that spilled across a piece of flat wood that looked suspiciously like an old door resting on plinths.

  ‘We’d like to see Nurse Sara Parkin,’ Flora said when it came to their turn.

  ‘Is she expecting you?’

  Flora nodded. ‘Yes, we’ve travelled from London to visit one of her patients.’

  ‘Do you know the number of his unit?’

  ‘Do you mean one of those huts outside?’

  The receptionist, who looked to Flora to be in her fifties and had a pinched, tired face, nodded. ‘The units are very spacious and clean. Now, you’ve come a long way and must be in need of refreshment. If you go to the canteen, three huts down, I’ll send for Nurse Parkin and tell her you’re there.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Flora tried to prepare herself as they made their way outside. In just a short while, she would be with Will again.

  Flora and the doctor sat at the canteen table. The busy, stale-smelling room was crowded with people who had come from far and wide. Everyone had the same anxious look on their faces. The hut’s windows were streaming with condensation. The rows of wooden benches and tables were stacked with dirty enamel dishes. Flora had managed to eat a little broth, and the doctor, a slice of apple pie.

  ‘Miss Shine?’

  Flora looked up. A slender young woman, about Flora’s height and wearing a dark-blue uniform, stood at the table. Her short, neat brown hair was tucked under a white cap.

  ‘Are you Nurse Sara Parkin?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘This is Dr Tapper.’ They all shook hands.

  ‘Shall we sit together for a moment?’ Nurse Parkin said in quiet voice. ‘You must be eager to see Will, but I would like to speak to you first.’ She folded her slim hands together and leaned them on the table. ‘May I call you Flora?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Will has spoken at length of his life at the orphanage. And how your letters have been a lifeline for him during the fighting. If it wasn’t for you, he might never have had the will to live.’

  ‘Does he know we’re visiting today?’

  Nurse Parkin nodded. ‘Yes. But I would ask you to keep in mind that Will is still very ill.’

  ‘Will he get better?’ Flora couldn’t wait any longer to know.

  ‘A shell burst close to him and he was left unconscious. To compound his injuries, it was some time before the stretcher-bearers found him. There is a lack of sterile dressings at the Front and infections are always likely. Even the smallest cut can become a threat. He was in immediate danger from blood loss and severe shock.’ Nurse Parkin hesitated. ‘I’m afraid the surgeons had no choice other than to amputate his arm.’

  Flora tried to breathe. Her head was spinning. She knew she was about to faint. The last thing she remembered was Dr Tapper holding her.

  ‘Sip the water slowly.’

  Flora looked up into Nurse Parkin’s concerned face. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It happens to the best of us,’ said the young nurse, ‘especially when it’s close to home. We can stand up to a lot but when it’s personal . . .’ She put down the mug. ‘I’m very sorry to be the bearer of such bad news. Perhaps I should have said more in my letter, but I was concerned you might not come.’

  ‘I would never let Will down,’ Flora insisted. The waves of dizziness were leaving her.

  ‘You may be surprised to hear that many men are abandoned because of their injuries. Sadly, their relatives or friends cannot face long months or even years of rehab
ilitation. Some simply haven’t the accommodation or courage to take in a disabled or a disfigured man.’

  Flora made herself swallow. ‘Is Will disfigured?’

  ‘His head was injured in the explosion and his hair is just beginning to grow back. It will be some while before he regains his confidence.’

  ‘How much is left of his limb?’ the doctor asked.

  ‘The top of his upper arm. In time, if he heals, he could be fitted with an artificial appliance.’

  They all sat silently, until Flora finally spoke: ‘I would like Will to be sent to Adelphi Hall in Surrey. The house belongs to Lord William Calvey and has recently been converted to a hospital.’ She went on to explain about Hilda and how being close to her might help Will’s recovery.

  Nurse Parkin raised her eyebrows. ‘I don’t have any say in the placements, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Who does?’ Remembering Sally’s advice, Flora wasn’t going to give up.

  ‘The matron and others.’

  ‘Will you ask her?’

  Nurse Parkin took in a slow breath. ‘Well, it does make sense. But, as I say, it’s not up to me.’

  ‘Please try.’

  The young woman smiled. ‘You can be very persuasive, Flora.’

  ‘I would do anything for Will.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that. Now, are you ready to see your friend?’

  Dr Tapper rose and put his hand under Flora’s arm. ‘We’re quite ready.’

  Flora knew that no matter what had happened to Will, it was now that he needed her, more than ever.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Hilda stopped what she was doing and put down the basket that was full of soiled, heavy vegetables. Each day, she had to dig up a variety for Mrs Harris, who was now twice as busy as ever preparing meals for the convalescing soldiers and nursing staff.

  She could hear voices coming from the stables on the other side of the thick yew hedge. Stepping towards the half gate, she peered carefully over it. Khaki uniforms abounded, as did the browny-pink uniforms, white shoes and head caps of the nurses who were helping the wounded men across the lawns and into the house. They looked as though they had occupied Adelphi Hall for fifty years, rather than five months.