The Mersey Daughter

by Annie Groves

  ‘She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t even know you,’ Sarah said insistently, taking the girl’s arm once more and beginning to lead her back along the dock road. ‘You have to ignore what she said, or she’ll have won; she’ll have got her way and stopped you getting to safety. That’s right. Come with us. Danny, you take her other arm, look, we’re nearly there.’

  Suddenly there was an enormous explosion and everywhere lit up, the docks illuminated in the orange glow as sparks flew and fires took hold.

  Oh no, thought Sarah, we’re too late. She struggled to stand, shifting her treasured satchel so she could support Ruby. Danny glanced anxiously at her.

  ‘You all right, Sar?’

  ‘Right as rain,’ Sarah said staunchly, though she felt anything but. ‘Come on, let’s get to the shelter door.’

  Ruby was moaning now – not in the way she had before, full of terror and incomprehension, but in what Sarah recognised as pain.

  ‘Ruby, what … oh no.’ Sarah looked down and saw blood, a bright stream of it along the pavement, shiny in the orange light. ‘Ruby, what is it, can you walk?’ There was glass all around, jagged edges reflecting the sparks and the fire from the ack-ack guns. The smell of burning drifted towards them.

  Ruby didn’t reply but just gasped.

  ‘Come on, we’ll carry her to the shelter.’ Danny didn’t hesitate, but picked up the girl as if she weighed no more than a bag of sugar, and half ran with her the short remaining distance to the shelter door. He banged on it and shouted, ‘Let us in! It’s Sarah Feeny and Danny Callaghan! We’ve got a wounded woman with us!’

  For a moment they couldn’t hear a reply as the noise all around was so loud, of glass shattering and buildings collapsing. Then came a firm voice. ‘We’re full. You’ll have to go elsewhere.’

  ‘Mam!’ cried Sarah, panicking now. ‘Mam, make them let us in!’ But if Dolly had heard them, they couldn’t tell, as more and more thunderous noises joined the cacophony, explosion following explosion. Bootle yet again was taking a pounding from the Luftwaffe, and there could be little hope for anyone directly caught out.

  ‘Sar, it’s no good.’ Danny knew he had to keep his head and improvise now if they weren’t going to get into the shelter. ‘Look, we have to get Ruby somewhere where she can keep still. How about over there?’ He pointed to the large porch of the Sailor’s Rest. Its solid pillars had withstood all the bombings of the May blitz and, although there was some broken glass by the steps, the basic structure still seemed undamaged. ‘It’ll do for now. Come on.’

  Knowing that hesitation could kill them, Sarah agreed, and they half carried Ruby, now moaning and semi-conscious, to the porch. Danny hurriedly swept debris aside with his foot and they all collapsed on to the cold stone, huddling as close as they could to the wooden bar-room doors.

  ‘That’s it, that’s it,’ Sarah said as calmly as she could, pushing aside her remaining panic. She tried to breathe deeply, pretending she was on duty and knowing that people’s lives depended on her. ‘Danny, take my torch from my satchel and I’ll have a look.’ Gently she examined Ruby’s injured leg. ‘That’s it, that’s where you’ve been hurt.’ She gave a small prayer of thanks that it wasn’t an internal injury, which she could have done little about. Then she set about cleaning the deep cut as best she could, deftly removing shards of glass with her nurse’s tweezers, sluicing out the wound with her precious disinfectant, and finally, when she was as satisfied as she could be that she’d got it all out, she covered the wound with gauze and bandaged it into place. She tried to remember her training. If she was right, the glass had missed a major artery by a fraction. It was a nasty wound and would have to be seen tomorrow by a doctor as there would be a risk of infection, but it could have been so very much worse.

  ‘Settle down, Ruby, we’ll look after you,’ she said softly. It was getting cold, and she was hungry – Dolly had all the food and drink with her, shut inside the shelter. There was nothing for it but to make the best of things. Gratefully she sank against Danny, who drew his big coat around her, but she barely noticed as, finally exhausted beyond measure, she fell asleep.

  Elliott put away his white coat in his locker and drew out his warm jacket. Another shift ended, and hours after he’d intended to leave the hospital. Glancing out of the window he saw it had gone dark. The October nights were drawing in, no doubt about it. Pulling his old college scarf from his pocket, he tied it tightly around his neck, knowing it would be chilly outside. A couple of nurses coming on shift nodded to him as he pushed open the door to the outside world, but he didn’t want to stop to make small talk. He had to sort out his thoughts. Turning on to the pavement, he decided to walk for a while rather than wait for a bus to his billet. Walking was always a good way to think things through.

  Only a few more days and he would be on his way to see Kitty. He didn’t resent working late if it meant he could leave on time on Thursday and get that train. He was delighted that she’d finally agreed to meet his parents. It had been stupid of him to have suggested it so soon in their relationship – no wonder she’d felt overwhelmed at the idea. He kept forgetting that she would have reservations, as all he saw was a beautiful, talented young woman who had no reason to feel inferior to anybody. Now they were all to meet on Saturday. He couldn’t help feeling this marked a major development and he wondered where it might lead.

  He wouldn’t rush her. He realised now that to do so always produced the opposite result to the one he’d intended. He’d see how they all got on, how at home she felt. He was certain his parents would adore her. They knew she made him truly happy, and how could anyone fail to love Kitty? He broke into a small smile at the thought of her face, with those magnetising dark-blue eyes, and that dark, wavy hair he loved to run his hands through. She was truly special, and he hoped he wasn’t fooling himself when he admitted that he wanted them to have a future together. He’d take it slowly, but he knew this was no casual wartime romance.

  He was so lost in thought that for a moment he didn’t register the sound of the air-raid warning. Damn, there hadn’t been much in the way of raids for ages – well, one last week, but that wasn’t over the Bootle docks, more towards the other side of the city. He looked around but wasn’t sure where the nearest shelter was. Never mind. He felt lucky. He’d chance it and carry on walking. He would see Kitty soon and nothing, not even the Luftwaffe, could dampen his spirits.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The war-ravaged streets of London sped past the window of the car, but Laura scarcely noticed. Her mind was racing, her heart hammering in her chest. The admiral had seen to it that a car had been sent for her to bring her to the hospital where Peter lay fighting for his life. What did it mean? The message had been abrupt and gave nothing away, but surely she wouldn’t have been summoned if he was still in grave danger. She tapped her fingers against her scratchy uniform skirt in impatience. It was only a short ride away, but seemed to go on for hours – and of course the most direct route was impossible as a building had collapsed and all the traffic had to take a detour. So many small things, unimportant on their own, added up to this war taking its toll in so many ways.

  The driver had barely acknowledged her, and she wondered if the woman, in the uniform of a Wren of her own rank, knew what any of this was about. It was strange to be driven about, to sit in the back seat as Peter had done so many times in the past few months. Laura thought it was as if she was cocooned, safe from the dangers outside on the streets, the bombs, the injured people, the food shortages. Even so, she couldn’t wait for the journey to end.

  At last they pulled up in the driveway in front of the hospital’s front door. This time there was no problem getting in. A nurse was waiting for her. ‘Miss Fawcett? This way please.’

  Laura glanced around, half expecting the formidable matron to descend upon them, although common sense told her that such a senior nurse would have far better things to do. ‘How is Captain Cavendish?’ Laura breathed, desperate
to know and yet fearful of learning the truth.

  The nurse escorting her along the corridor didn’t break her stride. ‘Oh, haven’t they told you?’ she asked cheerfully. ‘Well, I expect they wanted the captain to tell you himself.’

  Laura wanted to stand still and take that in, but the nurse walked briskly on and she had to keep up. ‘So he’s conscious?’ she asked.

  ‘You’ll soon see for yourself,’ the nurse said in her no-nonsense way. ‘Right, do you know where you are now? Just at the end of the corridor, the door on the left. Better make the most of it, you won’t have long.’ She pointed along to the familiar set of French windows. Laura nodded her thanks and made her way down the corridor, her footsteps echoing on the immaculately clean floor. There was a faint scent of disinfectant.

  She hesitated outside the door. Already she was flooded with relief that he was alive, and must be well enough for visitors, but now she didn’t know what she would find when she saw him. Was he going to be angry with her for that near-fatal choice of route? Would he be his usual aloof self, or would she see that other side to him, the one she’d only known so briefly that desperate night?

  There was only one way to find out. She tapped on the wooden panel of the door, and waited.

  ‘Come in.’ It was Peter’s voice – weaker than usual but definitely his. She turned the brightly polished doorknob and walked in.

  He lay propped up in bed, three or four pillows behind him, bright white sheets tucking him in tightly. A large bandage was visible at the neck of his pyjamas and his skin was nearly as pale as the sheet, although no doubt Marjorie and Kitty would still have called him rather good looking. Laura found that thought simultaneously irritating and only too true. Then his face broke into a smile. ‘Fawcett. You came.’

  Laura wanted to exclaim in relief, but understood that wouldn’t be of any help to anyone. So instead she said, ‘Of course, sir. I always obey orders, you know that.’

  His eyes crinkled. ‘I think we both know that isn’t the case. Such as when you are explicitly told to leave the scene of a major fire and you go and do the very opposite.’

  Laura shrugged. ‘Just the one time then, sir.’

  ‘Come, sit down,’ he said, indicating the ladder-back chair to one side of the bed. Obediently Laura perched on it. ‘That’s better. I don’t have to look up at you now. Well, I understand that you and a friend tried to visit me before but I was otherwise occupied. Most kind of you, I’m sure. I hear you’ve met my uncle. He told me you were most determined and you almost caused a security incident by bluffing your way in.’

  Laura shuffled uneasily. ‘Not quite that bad, surely. I just thought I should come to see how you were. Everyone was saying different things, you know how it is, like Chinese whispers, so I thought it best to find out for myself. I didn’t realise …’ she broke off, swallowed hastily and then continued, ‘… didn’t realise quite how ill you were. I was very sorry to hear that.’ She gazed at him, trying to gauge how he felt.

  ‘Oh, it’s been a bit of a nuisance,’ he said lightly. ‘This dratted wound to the chest got infected. They told me if it had been in a limb they’d have cut it off. As it was, they just had to clean it up and hope for the best.’

  Laura gasped at that, she couldn’t help herself. ‘And is it better now?’ she demanded.

  ‘On its way,’ he assured her. ‘It must be, as I’ve been stone cold out of it for the best part of a week, so they tell me. But do you know, at one point I could have sworn I heard your voice.’

  ‘Well, I did make it nearly as far as your door,’ Laura admitted. ‘Then I bumped into your uncle and the matron and, er, got turned back.’

  ‘Quite something, that matron,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t fancy Hitler’s chances against her. She’d give him one of her quelling looks and he’d turn back in a trice.’

  Laura gave a small smile. ‘Your uncle seems a decent sort.’

  ‘Oh, he is.’ Peter grinned, but winced in pain. ‘Sorry, it’s still giving me gip. Yes, anyway, he’s pretty good and has been coming here as often as possible, even though he’s an admiral with one or two other things on his plate. But he’s based in central London and he knows his sister, my mother, would expect it – and you don’t argue with my mother. She’s worse than the matron.’

  ‘Gosh, sir.’ Laura didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Well, he seems to have taken a shine to you,’ Peter went on. ‘Probably on account of you saving my life like that. I expect that had something to do with it.’ His eyes sparkled and she remembered how they were a rich honey brown.

  Suddenly she couldn’t keep up the light banter. ‘But if I hadn’t taken that route then you wouldn’t have been there to start with,’ she burst out. ‘You’d never have been in danger in the first place. We wouldn’t have been anywhere near the fire.’

  Peter shook his head a little. ‘And if my uncle hadn’t summoned me to that meeting then both of us would have been safely in our billets the whole evening,’ he said. ‘And if Hitler hadn’t started this war, we wouldn’t have been here at all. Fawcett, you can’t think like that. You’ll end up going around in circles and that’s no good to anyone. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking whilst I’ve been stuck here, but that idea had never occurred to me.’

  ‘Really?’ Laura stared into his face, searching for clues as to whether he meant it or not. ‘You haven’t been lying here blaming me? You don’t hate me?’

  ‘Honestly, Fawcett.’ He shook his head. ‘Don’t be a fool. I never took you for a fool. Of course I don’t hate you. You saved my life, and helped save that baby. Why would I hate you? In fact … come a little closer.’

  Heart in her mouth, Laura did so. He reached out his hand and touched her nose. ‘At least you got rid of that smudge I see, Fawcett.’ His eyes blazed into hers.

  ‘Of course. Like I said, I always obey orders.’ Her tone was light but the expression on her face was anything but. Then there was a noise from the corridor and the door swung open. Laura hurriedly leant back in her chair. The young nurse came in.

  ‘Visiting time is up,’ she said pleasantly. ‘You mustn’t tire the captain, he still needs plenty of rest.’

  ‘Yes, I do understand.’ Laura stood, having little option. ‘Very well. I’m glad to see that you are on the mend, sir.’

  Peter nodded. ‘Still a way to go yet, Fawcett. I expect I shall be in need of plenty of visits, if you could see to that.’ His eyes danced.

  Laura broke into a delighted smile. ‘I’d be happy to oblige, sir. And please do give my regards to your uncle.’

  ‘He’ll be happy to have them,’ Peter assured her. But before he could say anything else to delay Laura’s departure, the nurse intervened.

  ‘That’s enough now, Captain. You know you aren’t to get overexcited. Come with me, Miss Fawcett, and I will let you know the schedule of visiting hours so that you may attend when you aren’t on duty.’ The nurse gave them both a knowing smile, but she was still firm in ushering Laura out with her.

  Laura turned as they went through the door, catching a last precious glance of Peter as he lay back against the mound of pillows. It was true, he did look terribly tired. She wondered with a pang if she had set back his recovery by staying too long. Then he caught her eye and unmistakably gave her a wink.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ‘How long is he down for, Kitty?’ Marjorie asked. She had just come off duty and was getting changed in the dormitory. Kitty was almost dancing with anticipation along the narrow gap between the two long rows of beds.

  ‘A whole long weekend. I can’t remember when we spent this long together. Not since I was posted down here. In fact, we never have, as one of us was always on duty when we both worked in Merseyside.’ She couldn’t hide her excitement. Laura had made good on her promise to lend Kitty another of her frocks, and this one was in a deep coral pink with a delicate print of flowers and leaves. It brought out the roses in Kitty’s cheeks.

  ‘And whe
n are you meeting his parents?’ Marjorie wanted to know. ‘Are you nervous? I would be.’

  Kitty shook her head with determination. ‘A little bit, of course. But if they are anything like Elliott, then it’s going to be all right. As long as I don’t say anything too stupid. We’re having lunch with them on Saturday. That gives me two whole evenings of his company first.’

  ‘I bet he’ll be very reassuring,’ Marjorie said with a glint in her eye, and laughed.

  ‘Oh, he will.’ Kitty twirled around and the wide skirt of the beautiful frock whirled around her shapely legs. ‘He’s taking me out tonight and is picking me up here first. Even the dragons on the door love him; he could charm anyone. I hope his train doesn’t take too long. They can be awfully crowded these days and he’ll have done a shift at the hospital earlier – that’s how he could manage so many days off together.’ She knew there would be members of all the armed services trying to get from one end of the country to the other, many prepared to sit on their kitbags or stand for the entire journey, and she knew that if Elliott had a seat but saw anyone struggling, he would immediately have given it up. She could just imagine him standing the whole way, gazing out of the corridor window of the train, squashed against young men in uniform, tired but refusing to show it. Her heart went out to him, for going through the uncomfortable journey just to see her. Yet she knew he would think it was worth it. This was the first time, Kitty realised, that she and Elliott had planned to see each other and she hadn’t felt real nerves or trepidation about fitting in. Maybe she was finally starting to enjoy herself.

  ‘Shall we go to the common room and wait for him there?’ Marjorie asked.

  Kitty hesitated. She’d been thinking about checking her hair one more time. She wanted to look as good as possible so that Elliott would be proud of her on his arm.

  ‘You look lovely, Kitty,’ Marjorie said, guessing what was on her friend’s mind. ‘Come away from that mirror and have a cup of tea downstairs. You’re making me feel tired just watching you. Anyway, if you’re downstairs you won’t have so far to go when the message comes that he’s here.’