by Katie King
Roger had driven them as he could drop them off on his way over to his dying parishioner, but he made time to pop in to the hospital to see Angela. And as Barbara stood up to go and see if the doctor was available to speak to them, she heard him ask Ethel if she would like him to say a prayer at Angela’s bedside. Ethel nodded, and Roger bent his head.
Personally she wasn’t at all sure as to the value of prayers at a moment like this, but then she remembered how fortified she had felt when she and Ted had knelt down clumsily on the day that war had been declared, and she thought that if Ethel found comfort in what Roger was saying, then that had to be a good thing.
The doctor, who was a youngish and rather dashing man called Dr Legard – so much so, in fact, that Barbara suspected he had the pulses racing of many a young nurse – had some other people in white coats with him when she tracked him down to an empty ward where he seemed to be talking about how the hospital beds would be set out. But he was happy to have a word with Barbara, saying that he had just been discussing Angela’s case with his junior staff. Barbara thought he didn’t really look old enough to have junior staff, but she supposed he must be very bright if he were already the main doctor at the hospital.
Dr Legard explained that head injuries were tricky at the best of times, with some people being able to function very normally after a heinous injury where they might lose, say, even a quarter of their brain, while other people were unlucky to die after no more than a gentle bump on the head.
As far as they could tell, Angela’s bleed to the brain had stopped, and so now they just had to wait to see what happened.
‘Might she just slip away in her sleep?’ Barbara asked, and Dr Legard admitted that that could happen, although of course he very much hoped that she wouldn’t. Angela was breathing unaided and that was a good sign.
Then he added that sometimes it helped if the ill person’s family and friends read to a patient in a coma, or just spent time talking to them about ordinary things.
At his last hospital he had seen some amazing recoveries, and the important thing was that everyone just had to keep strong in spirit and hope for the best. Nobody could see a brain repairing itself, but he’d witnessed enough to be damn sure that that would be exactly what Angela’s would be trying to do right at this very moment.
Barbara went back to the bed and held Angela’s hand as she said quietly, ‘Angela, this is Barbara Ross, and I hope you know it’s going to be time for you to wake up soon. My twins Connie and Jessie will be wanting to play with you, and so you had better get a move on as it will be Christmas shortly and you won’t want to miss all the Christmas carols or the orange you’ll have on Christmas Day, now, will you?’
Later, Ethel announced that it was time for her to go home back to Bermondsey. Much as she wanted to stay at Angela’s bedside, she had Jill and her husband to think about too, and she was worried about losing her job if she didn’t go in on Monday.
She left on the afternoon train, although not before Roger and Mabel had told her they had had a word with a vicar in Peckham whom Roger had trained with, and remained friendly with since. This vicar was going to visit the Kennedy household to see what might be done, and he had said it was possible that he might be able to help Ethel’s family relocate to accommodation that was more suitable for them, and perhaps her husband could start helping out in one of the mobile soup or pie kitchens that were being run to service factory workers, as this would mean that the family would very likely be able to get any leftover hot food at very discounted prices, which would surely help with the family’s budget.
Ethel’s smile of gratitude knocked years off her, and Peggy could see that once she would have been a very attractive woman, back before a hard life and not enough money had taken their harsh toll.
Chapter Thirty-one
As she walked back to Tall Trees after seeing Ethel off at the station, Barbara had an idea.
She thought the children should go and see Angela too. It would be a salutary lesson to them about how precious life is, but it could also be useful as they could talk to Angela about school and their favourite foods, and having sparklers for Guy Fawkes tomorrow.
The minute she got in Barbara telephoned the hospital, and as she waited to be put right through to Dr Legard, she thought how incredible it would be if one day she and Ted could afford a telephone in their very own house. She felt as if she had hardly been off the telephone over the past week or two, and she was very grateful to Roger for never once having mentioned this, as she knew it would be very expensive. Just as she was considering how she could make it up to him and Mabel, there was the sound of Dr Legard picking up the receiver.
He said that Barbara’s idea was unorthodox, and in fact very likely he wouldn’t have allowed it in a couple of days’ time as the hospital would be opening its doors proper on Tuesday, and by the end of the week the wards would be filling up and so he wouldn’t have wanted to be trying something like this for the first time then. Still, he didn’t think it would do any harm, and if the children proved they could be responsibly behaved while in the hospital, perhaps they could visit Angela regularly if they wanted.
Therefore, if Barbara wanted to bring a group of children (there were to be no more than six, mind, and each time one of them spoke to Angela, they must remember to say to her which one of them it was that would be speaking to her) over at one o’clock the next day, they could have half an hour at Angela’s bedside.
Barbara told Mabel what the doctor had said, and she said that Tommy should definitely go, and there’d presumably be Jessie and Connie of course, but what if – and this was a radical idea – Larry and Aiden made up the other children? Mabel would go to the hospital with Barbara, and it could be a good way of them seeing how the land lay with the children.
Barbara thought about it for a while, and then said Mabel’s suggestion sounded like an excellent plan.
But should they make a bit more of the day and also ask the children back to Tall Trees afterwards for an hour or two? The bonfire was going to be lit in the middle of the afternoon anyway as it was the fifth of November, and so the children could toast marshmallows – June Blenkinsop had given Peggy some to bring home – and then light the sparklers, which Peggy had managed to buy in a shop tucked away in a back street that June had directed her to.
Barbara and Mabel embraced the idea and began to get quite carried away.
There was the sound of a telephone ringing over in Roger’s study across the passageway.
After a while Roger came into the kitchen with an unusually shame-faced expression.
In a trice everyone had that clench inside that told them they might be about to hear bad news.
Roger smiled when he realised this to show that he wasn’t bearing bad news, and then he said he had been speaking with the billeting officer on the telephone. The couple that Angela had been billeted with had decided that if and when Angela was released from hospital, they didn’t want to have her back with them. They weren’t used to children or nursing anyone who was poorly, and so they didn’t feel they were the right place for Angela, assuming that the little girl would one day be well enough to be released from hospital.
They’d also been approached by the Air Ministry who had been enquiring about Angela’s room for one of the administration staff from the team that were being relocated to Yorkshire from London, and so they felt that giving the room to an adult was a better way of them helping the war effort.
‘Mabel, I know I should have discussed this with you first, but as me and the billeting officer were talking, I found myself offering to have Angela at Tall Trees if, God willing, she improves enough to be able to come out of hospital. And, slightly in the spirit of your favourite saying of “might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb”, then I heard myself raising the question of Larry, and it turns out his mother wanted to have him back but the father wouldn’t have him, and the upshot is that after terrible shenanigans he’s definitely to stay in
Harrogate as long as the rest of St Mark’s is here. Er… and so anyway, the result of that is there’s a possibility they’ll move him from where he is and send him here too,’ said Roger in a contrite tone.
‘Roger!’ Mabel exclaimed. ‘I only say “might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb” when I’m talking myself into having a second slice of cake or a fifth biscuit, and not about something like taking not one but possibly two children in who each have a lot of problems. Really, Roger, you are the absolute giddy limit at times!’
Roger looked appropriately hang-dog, but then Peggy detected a humorous twinkle in his eye.
Clearly he knew that there was no way that Mabel would put her foot down about this when push came to shove, Peggy realised.
Immediately she thought of her own marriage. She loved Bill, of course she did, but they had never had quite that intuition about each other that Roger and Mabel clearly did, and this made Peggy feel sad. Bill’s contact with her had dropped off again, and although she was cautious about getting too cross as it was possible he was in transit for foreign manoeuvres, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. If she were Bill, she knew she’d be making very sure that Peggy felt loved and supported by her husband, that was for certain. And she really couldn’t say that Bill was being very loving at all just now, Peggy fretted.
Peggy realised there was a resounding silence echoing around the kitchen as Mabel and Barbara and Gracie thought further about Roger’s words, their eyes flickering between each other as they considered the implications of a very troubled boy and a very sick girl joining the household. Peggy tried to remember what Roger had been saying, but depressing thoughts to do with Bill kept intruding and so she gave up and let the silence envelop her.
‘The more the merrier, eh?’ Roger said at last, and then quickly made himself scarce.
Chapter Thirty-two
Connie was easily persuaded to suggest to Aiden that he might like to come to the hospital the next day with them all, and she only took a little bribing to go over to where Larry was billeted to have a word with him too, and give him the note that Barbara had written him so that Larry could be reassured when he read it after Connie had dropped it off (Barbara told her not to encourage him to open it in front of her) that it was a genuine offer, and not something bad that Tommy was instigating and that he would take the fall for.
Dear Larry,
The doctor at the new hospital says that Angela might get better more quickly if she is talked to, even though she will probably stay sound asleep while visitors are with her. You have known her a long time, and you could speak to her about St Mark’s and Bermondsey. Connie and Jessie will go too, as will (I hope) Aiden. Tommy will be there too, and so will his mother. (And if there is one thing I have learnt over the years, it is that it is nearly always better to see someone you have had a problem with rather than ignoring them – it reduces the size of the problem, I promise.)
After we have been to the hospital, there is going to be a Guy Fawkes bonfire in the afternoon back at Tall Trees, with sparklers and toasted marshmallows. Connie is going to make some toffee apples this afternoon, and there will be lots of sandwiches, and so we need YOU to help the other children eat all of this up! You can tell your billet that you will home by six o’clock, and that I can be telephoned if they want to discuss the invitation.
Come to Tall Trees for 12.30 tomorrow and we can all walk over to the hospital and then back home to Tall Trees together. I hope very much that you do feel this is something you can do.
Regards,
Barbara Ross (Mrs)
Telephone: Harrogate 4141
In fact, Barbara wasn’t certain in the slightest that Larry would feel like coming, as it would be a brave thing for him to do, but Peggy reassured her sister that it was a good letter. She added that she thought he might actually do it, the lure of the food described probably proving stronger than Larry’s lingering dislike and suspicion of Tommy, especially as Barbara had cleverly made it clear that the outing was to be chaperoned and so the children wouldn’t have much, if any, opportunity of being mean to Larry.
Also, agreed Barbara, if it really were the case that Larry might move over to Tall Trees to billet there at some point – a possibility that hadn’t yet been mentioned to either the twins or to Tommy, or indeed to Larry – it would enable him to have a positive first experience there, as well as give the grown-ups a low-key chance to see how it might work in practice. Aiden being there too would be a good thing almost certainly, as Larry knew Aiden had tried to look out for him, and had stood at his side when the dogs were let loose, while Tommy knew that Aiden’s actions had highlighted what a cowardly bully he had been that day in the experimental orchard and would most likely be quite chastened around him.
‘You might have to keep an eye on Gracie for me as you know she’s not a fan of Aiden, but I’m sure she won’t give you any problems,’ said Barbara.
Peggy rolled her eyes dramatically at her sister. ‘Okay, if you insist. But I am going to have a nap in the afternoon while you are at hospital, and so don’t expect me to get up until you all get back.’
Everyone was on time the next day, and Larry did decide to come, with the other children acting as if this was quite normal as they pretty much ignored him, and he them, although Barbara thought this was better than if they had made a fuss of him, as in that case he would probably have run a mile. His clothes appeared to have had a bit of a spruce-up as they didn’t look quite so ratty as when Barbara had bought him lunch, although Larry himself was still just as grubby and lank-haired although, thankfully, not too ripe–smelling.
The party set off and Connie and Aiden walked side by side, with the three boys in front of them. Barbara and Mabel followed behind the children, and Barbara was gratified to see that by the time they’d reached the end of the road Jessie was making manful efforts to talk to Tommy and Larry.
She was pleased that she had made Ted string the conkers that had been hardening over the winter from the previous autumn above the mantelpiece at number five Jubilee Street, and that she had remembered to put them in her handbag.
Jessie had been really delighted when he saw them and now he was promising a proper conker knock-out challenge when they got back to Tall Trees, with Tommy and Larry soon both looking keen to take each other on in a sanctioned manner, although Jessie boasted his big sixer would beat all comers and that Tommy and Larry could have the pick of only the ones he didn’t like the look of nearly as much.
At the hospital, there was quite a flurry of activity going on amongst the staff, as they were admitting a few early patients already, as well as trying hard to get the rest of the wards into tip-top shape ready for the bigger influx of patients that would begin on Tuesday. Men dressed in blue overalls were constructing bedframes and there was the occasional sound of swearing when something went wrong or a clang if a metal spanner was dropped.
Angela’s bed had been moved from the ward into a small side room so that she could have some privacy, and the children fell quiet when they saw her lying stock still. They all stood in a row as they looked at her, transfixed.
A nurse came in and walked to the bed where she set about rolling Angela onto her back from where she had been propped on her side, with banks of pillows preventing her from toppling one way or another, explaining to the children that patients in a coma had to be turned over in bed regularly to prevent bed sores.
Barbara had already tried to tell the children what Angela would look like as she lay unconscious, but it was clear that the reality proved quite a shock and that it brought it home to them how very seriously she had been hurt.
When the nurse had finished Barbara went over and held Angela’s hand, saying in as cheerful a way as she could, ‘Hello, Angela, it’s Sunday today, and it’s Barbara Ross speaking to you. In fact, it’s Guy Fawkes day, November the fifth, and so there’s not long to go now until Christmas. I have brought Connie and Jessie to see you, and Tommy Braithwaite, and th
ere’s also Aiden Kell and Larry with us too.’
There was absolutely no response. Barbara had told the children already that this was going to be the case, but that her stillness and her silence didn’t mean that Angela couldn’t hear and possibly even understand what was happening around her. And so this meant they must take great care not to say anything upsetting about her or to her that they wouldn’t say to her face if she were awake just like any of them were.
Jessie spoke first, telling Angela about the conkers, but then Connie interrupted, saying that that was the last thing Angela would be interested in, and if Jessie didn’t shut up about his one-ers and his sixers, then Angela would decide to stay asleep forever and then who would blame her?
Mabel cut in before the conversation took a turn for the worse with, ‘Angela, I’m Tommy’s mother, Mabel. What about if we all tell Angela our favourite jokes? Who has got the best joke? I think it might be me as I have got a goodie: What do you call a one-eyed dinosaur?’
‘Do you think ’e saw us!’ called Aiden, and then he remembered that he hadn’t said who was speaking, and so he added ‘Aiden’.
Tommy got in next with, ‘Tommy Braithwaite. What goes oh, oh, oh?’ There was the obligatory dramatic pause, before Tommy gave the punchline: ‘Santa walking backwards.’
That took a little working out, but then was treated with the equally obligatory groan from the other children.
‘This is Jessie. I’ve always liked this one: why are bananas never lonely?’
‘Connie. Everyone knows that one, Jessie – it’s because they go around in bunches.’
More groans. And a couple of sniggers by this time.
So it went on, with the children becoming less inhibited as they tried to outdo each other, and the jokes worse.
Eventually Larry joined in. ‘Larry here, Angela. Why don’t ducks tell jokes when they are flying?’ There was the usual pause. ‘Because it would make them quack up!’
