The Mersey Daughter

by Annie Groves

  Kitty could see the sense of that. ‘All right. Just let me clip back this curl.’ She adjusted her hair one more time and then picked up her coat. By a miracle she had managed to get a new one, a lovely warm tweed, from a shop that was shutting down because the family who ran it had decided to leave London for somewhere safer. It had taken a chunk of her savings and coupons, but she knew it was a sound investment.

  ‘I expect Laura’s down there,’ Marjorie said. ‘She was going to visit Captain Cavendish when she came off duty, but visiting hours will be over by now.’

  ‘She’s certainly changed her view about him since the fire,’ Kitty observed as they made their way along the corridor and down the wide stairs. ‘Funny how she’s gone from hating the very mention of his name to following every detail of his recovery. But if you’ve gone through an experience like that, I suppose it brings you together no matter how you started out.’ She didn’t want to betray Laura’s confidence about her real feelings for the captain; it wasn’t her secret to tell.

  ‘Well, I dare say she’ll fill us in with all the latest news,’ Marjorie predicted.

  An hour and a half later and the common room was becoming crowded, as more and more Wrens and trainees finished their different shifts. Kitty, Marjorie and Laura had commandeered a group of worn but comfortable chairs in the corner, from where they could see the door, so that they would know as soon as Elliott arrived. Meanwhile Laura was describing every inch of progress in Captain Cavendish’s road to recovery, to the extent that Kitty thought even Rita, with all her years of nursing experience, couldn’t have done it better. Maybe Laura had missed her calling. But she couldn’t blame her friend. Whatever had gone on between her and the captain, it must have been heartbreaking to think he might die, and so soon after his act of selfless bravery.

  Anxiously she stole a glance at her watch. Even though she knew the train was unlikely to be on time, it was getting late now. She smoothed the beautiful fabric of the frock against her knees so that it wouldn’t be too creased before Elliott saw her in it. She was growing more jumpy by the minute. It was probably last-minute nerves about meeting his parents. Even though deep down she was sure that Elliott would make certain it all went well, she couldn’t help the old habit of doubt. He was a doctor, so far above her in station. His late fiancée had been his professor’s daughter. They came from utterly different backgrounds. And yet she knew the world was changing around them, and she herself was now a trained Wren, with acknowledged skills, and far more social ability and polish than when she had left home just months before. She could hold her own, she just had to steel herself not to crumble. Above all she was lucky to have Elliott. He believed in her. Where was he?

  ‘So they think he might be allowed out of bed some time next week,’ Laura was saying. ‘He can sit up straight now without so much pain, and that’s a very good sign.’ She glanced across at Kitty. ‘I say, are you all right? You’re miles away, I can tell.’

  ‘No, no, really,’ Kitty said quickly. ‘Just wondering when Elliott will get here. Honestly I’m very pleased the captain’s on the mend.’

  Laura nodded, understanding Kitty’s anxiety. ‘He’ll be here soon, you know as well as I do what it’s like on those trains at the moment. It’s annoying, isn’t it, when you’re all dressed up and ready to go and then there’s a delay. But don’t worry, it doesn’t mean he’s any less keen to see you.’

  ‘Oh, I know that, I’m not worried like that,’ Kitty reassured her hastily. Her concerns for a curtailed evening were as nothing compared to what Laura had gone through when she thought Peter was going to die. She must make more of an effort. After all, Elliott hadn’t been injured and would be whirling her round the dance floor tomorrow. That was a long way off for Laura and the captain – if they even decided to go that far.

  Yet she couldn’t concentrate on what her friends were saying. Marjorie was describing an incident in one of her language classes, but it felt as if it had nothing to do with her. She’d waited so long to see Elliott again, any extra delay was twice as agonising. Every precious minute counted, and she resented those that were being stolen from them.

  Marjorie broke off to suggest they all got another cup of tea, which they agreed was a good idea, and it wasn’t until they’d nearly finished their drinks that a fellow Wren came to the common room door and called, ‘Callaghan?’

  Kitty looked up, and something in the woman’s expression caused her to spill the last of her tea, narrowly missing the skirt of the beautiful frock.

  ‘I say, steady on,’ Laura said, but her tone was joking.

  Kitty frowned. Well, maybe this was one of the dragons who wasn’t charmed by Elliott. Even he wasn’t infallible, she supposed. She set down her cup and walked as calmly as she could across to the messenger. The other two followed. ‘Might as well come and say hello,’ Laura remarked, ‘seeing as you two lovebirds will want to have the rest of your weekend on your own.’

  The messenger nodded to Kitty. ‘There’s a gentleman come to see you, says he’s a doctor.’

  Kitty sighed with relief. How silly she had been to be worried. Everything was going to be all right now he was here. What had she been so anxious about – could it be, she wondered, that he might even propose this weekend? How would she feel if he did? Of course if she was to be sensible it was too soon, and they were in the middle of a war. If she added up the hours they had spent together it wasn’t actually very long, not compared to how a courtship would have been in peacetime. Still, she was lucky to have someone like Elliott who felt so strongly about her …

  ‘Look sharp, Callaghan,’ said the messenger, her face still unremittingly grim. ‘He’s waiting at the front door.’

  Kitty nodded. Of course men weren’t allowed in the Wrens’ billet. Heaven knew plenty had tried, but it was a strictly adhered-to rule. She hurried along to the entrance lobby, her feet light at the prospect of being reunited with Elliott at last.

  Except it wasn’t Elliott. The man had deep-red hair, not warm-brown. It was Elliott’s friend and former colleague, Bill Smedley. Kitty halted, trying to understand what it could mean. He must have driven to the station in his car to give Elliott a lift, and Elliott would be waiting outside, that was it.

  The look on his face told her that wasn’t right, but she held on to the hope even while her heart was full of misgiving.

  ‘Kitty.’ Dr Smedley stepped towards her. ‘Kitty, I’m so sorry, I’m so desperately sorry.’

  Kitty couldn’t form the words to ask what he was talking about. She just stared at him, registering that any of her female friends would have loved to have his hair; that his tie was crooked, that he had lines on his face she didn’t remember seeing before.

  ‘Sorry about what? Whatever is it?’ Laura, direct as ever, came forward and took her arm. She’d have known Bill from the occasional night out earlier in the summer when he’d met their group for drinks, Kitty recalled. As if it mattered.

  ‘Kitty …’ He met her gaze and his eyes were full of deep pity. ‘I … I have to tell you that Elliott won’t be coming this weekend. He’s …’ The doctor took a quick breath. ‘Kitty, he’s dead.’

  Kitty just stared.

  ‘What do you mean, he’s dead? He can’t be.’ Laura again asked the question that Kitty couldn’t.

  Dr Smedley shut his eyes for a brief moment, collected himself and forced the words out. ‘There was a raid on Bootle on Monday. It was the heaviest since the blitz. Quite a few people were injured; some were killed. I’m so sorry, Kitty. Elliott was one of them.’

  ‘Monday?’ gasped Laura, almost as if getting the details straight would change the outcome. ‘But that was days ago.’

  Dr Smedley didn’t back down in the face of her fierce questioning. ‘Yes, Monday evening. It took a while for them to identify everyone, and then they had to inform the next of kin – Elliott’s parents, of course.’ He glanced at Kitty in apology. ‘They wanted to get hold of you but didn’t know how. They teleph
oned me to break the news – I’ve known them for years. They asked me if I knew where you were stationed and to come and tell you in person.’

  ‘How … how …’ Still Kitty couldn’t speak properly. Her mouth wouldn’t let the words come out. It was going at a different speed to her brain. This couldn’t be happening. Elliott was still on a train, it had been held up, he was going to come to see her and introduce her to his parents. He couldn’t be dead – he was full of life, full of energy, full of love. He wasn’t old enough to die. He had so many plans.

  ‘He was walking home after coming off shift, that’s what they said,’ Bill went on. ‘There were some direct hits on Bootle – he wouldn’t have suffered,’ he assured her. ‘He was right in the middle of it all – he wouldn’t have known. Kitty, if there’s anything I can do …’

  Kitty felt her knees go weak and sensed Laura on one side, Marjorie now on the other, holding her up. But the entrance lobby was beginning to swim as her vision grew blurry. She could hear Bill’s voice but it was getting further and further away. She gasped as the truth of it hit her, the finality, and she could stand up no longer. Then she was gripped by a pain in her heart, a sharp, stabbing pain as she took in the news that he was gone for ever. Now she would never know what could be, what would have happened in the future they’d only just begun to talk about, full of possibilities. A future that he had worked so hard to secure, that he would have grasped with both hands. How could someone so loving and kind and full of compassion for the world around him be snatched away like this? And what about her own feelings – was this true love, this grown-up sensation of being so comfortable with someone and knowing you could trust them with absolutely anything? Right now, she couldn’t answer that, but she knew there was a big empty, gaping hole inside her; and one that she wasn’t sure would ever heal. As the awful reality of the war hit home, Kitty knew that things would never be the same again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  ‘It’s all right, Ruby, they say maybe you can go home tomorrow.’ Rita smoothed the pillowcase made of starched hospital linen. It had come as a tremendous shock to her to find the young woman admitted to the ward, even though it wasn’t the one where she was working herself. The sister in charge had expressed her concern, as Ruby hadn’t said a word since she’d arrived, on the morning after the worst raid for ages. They’d been able to treat her leg, which turned out to be broken as well as cut to ribbons by shattered glass, but the sister was worried that she might have taken a blow to the head, as she seemed unable to speak.

  Rita was pretty sure it was shock rather than a physical blow that had silenced Ruby. Sarah had explained what had happened – the encounter with the vicious old neighbour, being denied entry to the shelter, Ruby running in terror along the dock road as the raid blazed all around them. Then Danny, Sarah and Ruby had spent the best part of the night huddled in the porch of the Sailor’s Rest, barely safer than if they’d been out in the street. It was no wonder Ruby’s senses were reeling. She must have been in agony – Sarah’s efforts to clean the wounds had staved off infection, but they hadn’t known about the broken bone. Now Ruby’s leg was in a cast, but as for what her mind had endured, that was a different matter. She was vulnerable and sensitive at the best of times; how would she cope with being called a bastard in public? Rita wasn’t even sure if Ruby knew what it meant, but her heart went out to the frightened young woman, whose pale-blonde hair was spread like a halo over the pristine pillow.

  Rita herself had spent the night of the raid on a makeshift bed in the nurses’ welfare area, curled under a table and wrapped in a spare blanket. The casualties had been high and she’d been able to snatch only a few hours’ sleep. She’d worked extra shifts and had hardly been back to Empire Street since it happened. She’d forced herself to focus on her work, to be professional and caring while keeping all emotion at bay, or else she knew she’d simply collapse. It was too much: the sheer numbers of injured people, what had happened to Ruby, and on top of it all the news about Elliott dying. She couldn’t take it in. He was so desperately needed at the hospital, for his calm kindness, his steadiness under pressure, his deep medical knowledge which he’d never vaunted. As for what Kitty must be feeling … no, Rita couldn’t let herself even imagine it.

  Now she sat in the uncomfortable visitor’s chair and wondered if Ruby would ever come back to them. The young woman’s skin was paler than ever, her smooth face making her seem once again more like a child than somebody of twenty-one years of age. Her eyes were shut. Rita prayed that her mind was undamaged, and that all the improvements of the past few months hadn’t been destroyed by one night of horror. If only Mrs Pinkerton hadn’t chosen that very moment to go to the shelter. If only Dolly had been with them. If only Rita hadn’t been on duty. Yet she couldn’t change what had happened, and now she had to face the grim fact that Ruby might not recover.

  Maeve came past, her arms full of folded towels. ‘Any change?’ She stopped behind Rita, her eyes full of concern. ‘Has she woken up yet?’

  Rita shook her head. ‘The sister said she’s opened her eyes for a while but still hasn’t said a word. I think she’s sleeping now but it’s hard to tell.’

  ‘Maybe that’s the best thing for her,’ Maeve said comfortingly. ‘After what she’s been through, it’s the natural way for the body and mind to repair itself. You can’t beat a good sleep.’

  ‘True.’ Rita tried to remember the last time she’d had such a thing. ‘But it’s been days now. I can’t help worrying. What will become of her? Oh, I could just kill that neighbour with her big old mouth.’

  ‘Don’t say it,’ Maeve replied. ‘I know what you mean though – fancy coming out with such a thing and then not letting them in the shelter. After all your family do for the street and everyone around it. That’s sheer ingratitude, on top of being monstrously cruel.’

  Rita sighed. ‘Mam was beside herself when she found out. She’d got Violet and Georgie settled at the far end of the shelter and didn’t hear a thing, what with all the bombing and ack-ack gunfire. They assumed Sarah and Ruby were safe somewhere else. She went round to Mrs Pinkerton’s and tore her off a strip once she found out about it, but the damage has been done. And Ruby’s suffering the consequences.’ Again she smoothed the pillowcase, wanting to reach out to the girl who’d arrived as a stranger but who was now close to her heart. She couldn’t come to permanent harm. How would she explain it to Michael and Megan? They’d be heartbroken if anything happened to their companion. While the adult world condemned her for being different, the children had taken to her instantly, recognising a kind soul. They would never understand the viciousness of the attack on her, the self-righteous snobbery that lay behind it. Now Ruby, who was blameless in the whole affair, lay still in her hospital bed.

  ‘Shall I fetch you something?’ Maeve asked, knowing that Rita had been on her feet all day and had barely stopped for a break since she started her shift. ‘How about a nice cuppa? I’ll bring it over, Sister won’t mind.’

  Rita realised she was parched. ‘That’s good of you, Maeve, I’d love one.’ She turned to her friend in gratitude.

  ‘I’ll be right back.’ Maeve hurried off, still balancing the heavy towels. She disappeared round a corner. Rita stared after her absent-mindedly, wondering how long her Irish colleague had been working today, knowing it was an extra effort to bring the cup of tea, but relieved that she’d offered, for Rita wanted only to sit at Ruby’s bedside. Maeve had extraordinary reserves of energy, but even she must be feeling the strain after the week they had all had. It was like the May blitz all over again – every bed full, all medical staff pushed to their limits. It never ceased to amaze Rita how everyone pulled together at such times of crisis to ensure the best possible treatment for the victims of the raids. Only, she reminded herself sadly, Ruby hadn’t needed to be a victim. If it hadn’t been for that interfering gossip of a neighbour, she would have been safe in the shelter.

  She was so lost in her thoughts th
at for a moment she didn’t notice the slight stirring in the bed beside her. Ruby was trying to move. Her hands traced the sheet folded tightly over the blanket. Rita turned to her and gently touched the back of one hand. ‘Hush now, Ruby. Don’t you fret. You’re going to be fine.’

  Ruby’s head twisted slowly from side to side and her eyelids fluttered. ‘Rita?’ she whispered. ‘Is that you?’

  ‘Ruby! You’re awake!’ Rita brought her head close to that of her friend, afraid she would miss the barely audible voice.

  ‘Rita, I thought I could hear you.’ Ruby’s eyes opened further. ‘You were talking, I knew it was you.’

  ‘Of course. I wanted to see how you were. Do you know where you are?’ Rita regarded her closely, trying not to let her own anxiety show in her expression or her words.

  ‘Hospital. It smells like hospital,’ Ruby said, her voice stronger now. ‘It smells clean.’

  ‘It is, it’s very clean,’ Rita assured her, knowing that she and Maeve had spent many a long hour working to make certain the whole place was as germ-free as possible. ‘Yes, you are in hospital. It’s the one where I work so I have been coming to see you every day. You hurt your leg. Do you remember?’

  Ruby’s forehead creased in a frown. ‘It feels strange, I can’t move it.’

  ‘It’s in a cast. You broke your leg so they’ve had to set it to keep it straight. It will feel heavy. But don’t worry, you can get around on crutches. I’ll show you how. It will be as good as new when they take the cast off.’ Rita hoped this was right. But Ruby had youth on her side and, thanks to Sarah, there was little risk of infection. The chances were that her leg would heal completely; it was everything else that Rita was worried about. ‘Do you remember how you broke it?’