by June Tate
They had just four hours in the final afternoon before she had to go back on duty and James had to return to his regiment. Both in their own way dreaded the moment they had to say goodbye, knowing that there was no certainty of any further meetings. James would again be involved in the fighting, which meant his life would be in danger once again. It was no surprise, therefore, that the time spent together was somewhat subdued.
Inside a small cafe, they sat drinking coffee, both trying to be cheerful, both failing dismally. Eventually Helen took his hand.
‘For goodness’ sake keep your head down when you go back!’ She battled with the tears that threatened.
Squeezing her hand, he tried to lighten the mood.
‘Sister Chalmers, I do believe you care for me a little!’
She gave a wry smile. ‘Of course I do. I want to learn to ride.’ But as the silent tears trickled down her cheeks, she added, ‘I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you, James. I need you to come back, preferably in one piece.’
He took her other hand and lifting both to his lips, he kissed them.
‘Nothing – and I mean nothing – will stop me. We have a relationship to build between us. This is only the beginning, you have to believe that. I knew it when I first bought you a drink in the bar that day.’
She saw the intensity in his eyes and knew he meant every word, and now she knew she wanted the chance to really get to know this man.
He removed a signet ring from his little finger and held it up. ‘Will you wear this until I get back as a good luck charm?’
Without hesitation she said, ‘Yes, I will.’
He put the ring on her finger on her right hand, then leaning forward, gave her a lingering kiss, oblivious of the others in the cafe.
They walked around the town, arms round each other until they reached the hospital. James drew her into his arms and kissed her as if he’d never let her go. Then staring into her eyes he said, ‘Write often and I’ll do the same. I don’t have to tell you about my mail being held up sometimes, but when that happens, you’re not to worry. I have a very good reason now to survive, and believe me I will.’
They clasped each other tightly and then Helen broke away.
‘I have to go, James.’
‘I know. Just take care of yourself until next we meet.’
She caressed his face. ‘I will,’ she whispered. She ran up the stairs to the entrance without looking back because she couldn’t bear to.
Chapter Five
Helen walked into the surgery and stood beside Richard to scrub up. She took off the ring James had given her and put it into her pocket. Neither spoke until the next patient arrived and Richard gave his instructions to his team. They worked hard during their shift, trying to repair the broken bodies before them.
Helen watched Richard work and as usual was full of admiration for his skills, thinking how very fortunate the patients were who came to the table to have this man operate on them. At long last, they had finished the list.
Helen removed her surgical gloves, throwing them into the receptacle, and taking the ring James had given her, put it back on her finger. Richard came over as she did so and took her hand in his to look at the ring. He saw the initials on it and gazed at her.
‘Not on the left hand, I see?’
‘No,’ she said and walked out of the surgery. There was no way she was going to get into an argument with him, she really wasn’t in the mood and she craved solitude.
Richard washed his hands, his anger rising. ‘Young upstart!’ he muttered as he thought about the young officer who had suddenly appeared and had upset his relationship with Helen, just as they had repaired their earlier spat. He was fond of her, of course, but Helen was aware he’d return to the marital bed when the war was over and she’d made it very clear that would be the end of their relationship; nevertheless, he felt as if his territory had been invaded and he was not happy about it.
Helen walked around the grounds of the hospital, wondering just how far James had travelled, wondering, too, just how soon he’d be back among the fighting, and asking herself, would he come through it unscathed? Would she ever see him again, and if she did, would their relationship grow into something permanent? Her thoughts were driving her mad so she made her way to the mess hall, collected her meal and sat alone at a table.
Jenny Palmer queued for her food and saw Helen sitting on her own. Walking over she asked, ‘Do you mind if I join you?’
‘Of course not,’ Helen said, ‘I’d be pleased with the company,’ thinking that Richard would leave her alone if she was sitting with someone. ‘How’s Private Barnes?’
‘He’s going home tomorrow,’ Jenny told her, ‘and he’s worried sick, wondering how his mother will handle his injuries. You wouldn’t like to have a chat with him, I suppose? I know he enjoys talking to you.’
‘No, of course not, I’ll pop into the ward when I leave here.’ Helen noticed the dark circles under the girl’s eyes. ‘Are you alright, Nurse?’
Jenny gave a wry smile. ‘Better than my patients, but …’
‘But?’ Helen encouraged.
‘We lost two more men last night. So much suffering shouldn’t be allowed. If this war continues we’ll lose even more. I know we are supposed to be professional and not get close to the patient emotionally, but how can you help it?’
‘You can’t, it’s not possible, but you learn to cope with it, you haven’t a choice. A good cry in private helps, I find,’ she said.
Jenny looked surprised.
‘Oh yes, Nurse Palmer, we all suffer at times – we are human beings, after all.’
After they’d finished eating, they walked back together to the ward and Helen went over to Private Barnes and sat on his bed.
‘I hear you’re off to Blighty tomorrow. How marvellous!’
He looked somewhat disconcerted. ‘Well, in one way I can’t wait, but in another I’m real scared,’ he said.
‘I expect your mum feels just the same.’ She saw his look. ‘Why are you surprised? She can’t wait for her son to be safe within her four walls and she’ll be worried about your injuries. I told you, she’ll be shocked and that’s natural. Don’t blame her when she is, but after that she’ll be fine. You, my boy, will thrive, smothered in motherly love!’
He couldn’t help but smile at the thought. ‘She didn’t want me to join up,’ he said. ‘I was a fool to do so, really, and I lied about my age.’ He paused and looked down at his tightly clasped hands. ‘People will stare at me, I know that, and I don’t think I can bear anyone looking at me, Sister.’
‘Now you listen to me, Barnes, don’t you dare stay inside your four walls hiding away, not after the surgeons worked for hours to repair your face, and yes, at the moment it looks bad, but in time the angry scars will fade. All your other faculties are fine. You can walk, you have the use of your arms, unlike that poor man over there. He lost a leg and an arm, and the man next to him has shrapnel in his brain and has no memory at the moment and no one knows if he’ll ever get it back. You, young man, in comparison are very lucky!’
‘Well, Sister, when you put it like that, I suppose I am.’
She rose from his bed. ‘Good luck, Private Barnes. Learn a little patience with people, forgive their ignorance. They have no idea what it’s like on the battlefield, they only know what they read in the papers, and let’s hope they never have to find out.’ She shook his hand and he held on to it.
‘Thanks, Sister Chalmers. I won’t forget your kindness.’
‘Don’t let me down now,’ she chided. Then she walked away.
The following morning Helen joined Richard on his rounds with the matron, looking at his patients, checking on their recovery, changing medication where necessary, looking at wounds as they were redressed. He talked to the men, giving reassurance where necessary. As they walked away, he glanced over to see if Helen was still wearing the ring James had given to her.
He gestured towards her ha
nd.
‘Does that mean it’s all over between us?’ he asked abruptly.
She was taken aback momentarily, then she looked at him. She had to admit that there was no future with Richard, he’d made that very clear, and now she’d met James, who wanted to build one with her. In her heart she was unsure about this, but she was drawn to him, loved being with him, and even if in time their relationship came to nothing, he was a free man, whereas Richard never would be, so why continue down this path?
‘Yes, Richard, it does, I’m sorry.’
‘Are you really?’ There was such a note of sarcasm in his voice, she felt her hackles rise.
He continued: ‘It didn’t take much for you to change your mind, did it? I mean Havers sweeps in like a knight without his horse and you are swept away … just like that.’
‘I’m not getting into an argument over this,’ she said sharply. ‘After all, our relationship had to end sometime, it was just earlier than we expected and for a reason other than the war was over and you were going home to your wife.’
‘What are you saying, Helen, that I was just using you?’
‘Not at all. We were drawn together because of the war and circumstances. Now it’s over. If you’ll excuse me I have some paperwork to catch up on.’
The next day, just as the last patient had been wheeled out of the theatre, an emergency case was rushed in and as the nurses started to cut away the uniform of the injured man, Helen walked over to assist and let out a gasp of horror as she saw that it was James who had been brought in, covered in blood.
According to the medics, the car James had been travelling in had been caught in crossfire. The driver had been killed, but James had been pulled from the car before it caught fire.
Richard looked up and glared at her. ‘Are you alright to continue, Sister?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘let’s get these clothes off so we can see what we have to do.’ Her professionalism kicked in, knowing that time was critical and not knowing as yet how serious were the injuries James had sustained.
His leg was broken, shrapnel had peppered his body and he had superficial cuts on his face. One or two only just missed damaging his eyes.
Richard barked out his orders and they began. The shrapnel had fortunately missed his heart but had damaged his liver and a piece of it had to be removed. Helen held her breath as Richard proceeded. The patient lost a lot of blood during this part of the operation and needed several transfusions. Not knowing the type of blood needed, Richard asked for type O Rh negative, which was compatible with most. He didn’t have a choice.
Some of the shrapnel was deeply imbedded in other parts of the patient’s body and it took great skill and delicacy to remove it without causing great damage to the muscles and nerves.
Helen walked behind the patient as he was wheeled into a small recovery room, then she sat beside him and tried to fight the tears that threatened.
She held his hand, willing him to recover. She turned as Richard entered.
‘Is he going to be alright?’ she asked.
‘He’s strong, healthy, the next few days will be critical, but I expect him to pull through as long as there is no complication from the loss of a piece of his liver, but we’ll have to see just how well he recovers and if any nerves were damaged.’ He looked at her and frowned. ‘Are you alright?’
She was deeply touched at his concern, after all he’d just saved the life of the man who’d come between them.
‘Not really. I was so shocked when I saw who the medics had brought in.’
‘That’s understandable,’ he said gruffly. ‘Take the next twenty-four hours off, but I need you back on duty after.’
‘Thank you, Richard, and thank you for saving James. I know it was down to your skill that he survived.’
‘I was just doing my job. Now I’m off to eat. You make sure you do too. I can’t have you passing out through lack of food in the theatre. I need to be able to rely on you.’ He hurried away.
A few moments later Jenny Palmer entered and stood beside Helen.
‘I believe the patient is someone you know,’ she said quietly.
Helen nodded, unable to speak.
‘I’ll sit with him while you go to the mess and eat,’ the nurse said.
Helen was about to refuse when Jenny interrupted. ‘The surgeon insisted that you do so, Sister, and it’s more than my job’s worth not to carry out his orders. Besides,’ she placed a comforting hand on Helen’s shoulder, ‘it’ll be some time before he comes round from the anaesthetic and you need to keep up your strength, you don’t need me to tell you that.’
Helen nodded and rose to her feet. ‘Thanks,’ she said and left, but instead of going to the mess she went outside and, finding a quiet corner, she wept.
Eventually she made her way to the mess and had a light meal followed by a cup of strong coffee, sitting quietly, trying to compose herself for her return to James’s bedside.
It seemed an eternity before James began to stir, but as soon as she realised he was coming round, Helen stood up and spoke softly. ‘Hello, James.’
He opened his eyes slowly, still muzzy from the anaesthetic. It took a moment before he looked at her clearly.
‘Helen?’ he muttered.
‘Yes, James, it’s me. You are in my hospital. You were caught in the crossfire in a car.’
He was dazed and it was obvious at this moment he didn’t remember.
‘You have a broken leg and other minor injuries, but you’re going to be fine.’ She took his hand and held it, but didn’t say more, allowing her patient to come to in his own time.
Eventually, when he was more compos mentis, she smiled at him and spoke:
‘I know you said you’d like to come here and have me look after you, but this is a bit extreme, James.’
He gave a wan smile. His voice was weak but he had still retained his sense of humour.
‘Yes, well it wasn’t meant to be quite as bad as this.’ He frowned and paused. ‘We were driving along and suddenly there was this tremendous noise of gunfire. I don’t remember anything else … my driver?’
‘He didn’t make it, I’m afraid.’
‘Poor devil. How did I manage to survive, then?’
‘You were pulled free from the car and brought here. You were very lucky that there was a company nearby.’
Jenny Palmer came into the room and she and Helen gently hoisted the patient up a little higher in his bed. James saw the splint on his leg and grimaced. ‘Will this interfere with my ability to ride?’
‘We’ll have to wait and see but I don’t want you worrying about anything. We have to get you fit and it will take time. Richard operated on you and he’s a fine surgeon, the best, so you were lucky in that respect.’
At that moment, Richard entered.
‘I heard you were awake, Havers. How do you feel?’ he asked as he took James’s wrist and felt his pulse.
‘As if I’ve been hit by a tank, but I believe I have you to thank for my survival.’
‘Just doing my job. Now you must rest and I’ll look in again tomorrow.’ He turned to Helen. ‘You get some rest too, the patient will be fine. The nurse will watch him and I’ll see him again in the morning.’
‘Man of few words is your surgeon,’ said James. ‘Is he always so abrupt?’
‘No, not always.’ She could hardly explain how she knew. ‘I’ll leave you to sleep and I’ll come back this evening.’ She kissed his forehead and left somewhat reluctantly. She would have liked to stay but Richard was right, she too needed to sleep and if she remained beside James, the last thing she would do was close her eyes.
As she undressed in her room, she thought how strange life was. She had been in love with Richard, or so she imagined, then James came into her life and not for one moment did she consider their relationship would be anything but a meeting in wartime – people come and go – and then he’d turned up at Christmas and things had changed. But was she in love with J
ames? She was attracted to him – who wouldn’t be? – but she knew she wanted him in her life. She supposed she was wary of committing herself again and so soon.
One day at a time, that was the way to go. Firstly they must get James fit. Life would sort itself out after that. If only the damned war was over, it would be less complicated. Then they could get back to reality and things would be clearer.
Chapter Six
It was now late March and the war still raged on different fronts. Nothing seemed to change in the life of the hospital. Patients were still brought in, others shipped home to their families, some returned to the fighting, all scared of what was before them, having already faced the enemy.
James Havers was slowly recovering. He was up and about, walking gingerly with two sticks until he recovered from the operation on his liver and his injured leg, but he suffered traumatic dreams that would leave him trembling when he woke. Like many patients, their experiences would stay with them, one way or another and no one knew for how long.
He was on the list for the next repatriation and Helen, due for some leave, had managed to get it at the same time so she could accompany him home to Cheltenham. Her own home in Evesham was but a few miles away, so she could see her family too.
The train was full as they left Rouen for Calais, then across the Channel in a hospital ship heading for England. When at last the sight of the white cliffs of home were to be seen, for many of the men it was an emotional moment after all they’d been through and many shed tears.
Helen, standing by the ship’s rails with James, felt her eyes fill with tears too. James gently put an arm around her and pulled her close.
‘I did wonder many times if ever I would see this,’ he said quietly. ‘I cannot tell you how very thankful and relieved I am to do so. So many good men didn’t.’
