by Molly Green
‘Well, that’s what it looks like to me,’ Sally said.
‘And we’re sure it wouldn’t be Deadly Dora?’ Jessica threw out the question.
Sally shook her head. ‘Definitely not. We got to know her better as she spent more time with us in Persephone. She tells it like it is but I don’t see her being devious. And she’s actually quite soft underneath that tough exterior.’
‘I’d say the same,’ Ronnie said, vivid images of the interview room still fresh in her mind.
‘Then it’s got to be Angela,’ Jessica said. ‘I don’t understand what’s wrong with the woman. She never mentioned her family at all. We know absolutely nothing about her.’
‘Maybe she was jealous that we all became pals and she felt left out,’ Sally put in.
‘She didn’t bother to make an effort,’ Ronnie said. ‘I don’t remember her ever saying anything nice.’
‘Well, we’ll never know for sure if she spirited your letter away but I’d take a bet on it.’ Jessica looked at Ronnie. ‘The important thing is, what are you going to do about the letter, as poor Michael must have given up hope by now?’ She patted Ronnie’s hand. ‘And while you’re thinking about it, Sally and I will get some supper on the table.’
Ronnie couldn’t rally her brain to think straight. First Angela – if it was Angela – holding back her private letter, and then Michael thinking his letter asking her to forgive him hadn’t made any difference. He’d written it less than a fortnight after that horrible day in February but it was now June. He’d think she definitely didn’t want to make any contact with him. She blinked back the threatening tears. He would have given up on her.
But even after all this time there must be some way she could let him know it was her who’d behaved like a schoolgirl. Angela was right, for once. Or was it too late and she should leave well alone?
What would Dad tell her to do? She didn’t have to imagine. She knew he would say, ‘When there is anything difficult to face and you must make a decision, then follow your heart. It will never let you down.’ She could visualise her father actually saying the words that she’d always thought were rather soppy. But not now. Oh, not now. Her heart, she was sure, was the only thing to be certain of.
Somehow she had to make Michael see she treasured their friendship and she was so sorry she’d allowed it to be threatened. But how? They wouldn’t be back to London for two or three more days, and Maman would have first claim on her.
‘You’ve gone awfully quiet, Ronnie,’ Jessica said as she laid the little table for their late supper while Sally was breaking the eggs into a basin. ‘Is it so difficult for you to admit to him that you were wrong?’
‘I just don’t know—’
A noise like a hundred lawn mowers sounded overhead. All three stared upwards.
‘DUCK!’ screeched Jessica.
There was an ominous silence and the cabin was suddenly plunged into darkness. Someone screamed. Ronnie felt the boat tip so hard she was sure it was about to go over. And then her head exploded as she was tossed to the floor and the whole cabin seemed to tumble down on top of her.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
‘Ronnie! Sally! You all right?’
It was Jess.
‘I’m okay,’ Sally’s voice sounded muffled to Ronnie’s ears. ‘But whatever it was knocked me flying.’
Ronnie tried to speak but it was just a whimper. She heard a scuffle, then another silence.
‘If only we could see.’ Jessica muttered a few more choice words. ‘Bloody torch – where the hell is it?’
‘One on the shelf … by the bed,’ Ronnie croaked, sitting up and spitting out dust and what felt like bits of plaster floating around her. She rubbed her stinging eyes. The shadowy figure of Jess shone a light on her face.
‘You sure you’re all right, Ronnie?’
‘I think so.’
‘I’m going to feel for the hatch,’ Jessica said. ‘Have a look outside.’
Ronnie heard her slide back the door. The cabin was immediately flooded with light and she stumbled onto one of the chairs.
‘There must have been some kind of explosion from one of the warehouses on the other side of the canal,’ Jessica called back. ‘It’s started a huge fire. The whole bank is lit up as light as day. I’m going to check Persephone. Won’t be a moment.’
Ronnie watched numbly as Sally swept aside broken crockery, books, wall plates, pots and pans, both lanterns … all had come crashing down and were now covered in a slime of food and filth and shards of glass. Thank God no one appeared to be injured although there was an odd throbbing in her hand.
‘Be careful, Jess,’ Sally called through the hatch. ‘There could be another explosion.’ She turned to Ronnie. ‘I don’t think she heard.’ Sally stopped in her tracks, alarm spreading over her features. ‘Ronnie, what’s happened to your face?’ She rushed to Ronnie’s side and smoothed her hair back. ‘You’re bleeding but I can’t see any cut. Where’s it coming from?’
‘I don’t know. I just rubbed my eyes.’ Dazedly, Ronnie held up her right hand, palm towards her face. It was as though she was wearing a bright red glove. As though in slow motion she turned it to show Sally.
She heard Sally’s gasp. Moments later Sally was kneeling down in the cramped space in front of Ronnie, attempting to wrap a tea towel round Ronnie’s hand.
‘Oh, don’t touch it,’ Ronnie shrieked as pain shot through her head and up her arm.
‘I’ve got to. I’ve got to stop the bleeding. Keep still and be thankful I’m a trained nurse.’
Ronnie gripped onto the chair with her good hand, desperate not to faint.
‘Is it bad?’ she murmured.
‘It’s not good,’ Sally said. ‘You’ve got a piece of glass stuck in your hand. I won’t be able to extract it. Even if I could you’d need stitches. We’re going to have to get you to the hospital.’
‘We don’t know the nearest one.’
‘Then we’ll call 999.’ Sally quickly rose. ‘Press the tea towel down just here—’ she demonstrated to Ronnie, ‘really firmly. And keep your arm raised above your head. I’m going to tell Jess to find the nearest phone box.’
‘She can take my bike,’ Ronnie said weakly. ‘But don’t be long, will you?’
‘Don’t worry. I won’t be two minutes.’ Sally disappeared.
Sally had left the hatch door open and Ronnie could hear the clanging of the fire engines. Was Jess right? Was it an explosion caused by chemicals or whatever they were storing in the warehouses? Or was it from a German bomb? She shuddered, then felt her head swim. I mustn’t faint – I mustn’t faint – don’t let me faint. The words tumbled over in Ronnie’s head. Don’t leave me on my own, Sally. I’m scared. She looked up at her hand. The blood had already soaked through the tea towel. She felt dizzy. Recite a poem.
She began out loud: ‘I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, there sleeps Titania sometime of the night.’
No, that wasn’t right. She’d left out some lines.
She could barely breathe with the smoke and dust swirling around her. She needed water. Somehow, keeping her hand in the air, she edged her way through the debris to the water can, but it had overturned and what was left of any water was in a slurry under her feet. What was that piece of paper? She bent down to see, but as she touched it with her good hand, it disintegrated into a pulp. In a sickening moment she realised it was Michael’s letter. She struggled back to her chair and began to cry, tears of frustration and pain and guilt. Her senses had been so stirred with having received his letter that she hadn’t taken in his address and could only remember Oxford. There was no way now of knowing where he lived. No way to answer his dear letter.
‘What’s the matter, Ronnie?’ Sally jumped the step down into the cabin and hurried over. ‘Don’t worry. The ambulance is coming. You’ll soon be right as rain.’
She couldn’t summon up the energy to tell Sally it was the letter
, not her hand, that was breaking her heart. The next thing she heard was the sound of cloth being torn.
‘Here, Ron, let me look.’ Sally gently brought Ronnie’s injured hand down and glanced at the blood-soaked towel before letting it drop to the floor. ‘I’m going to wrap this new bandage round your hand quite firmly, so you’ll just have to bear the pain.’
Ronnie found her handkerchief in her trouser pocket and blew her nose. ‘Did you see Jess?’
Sally nodded. ‘She’s going to wait for the ambulance.’
‘Is it really bad out there?’
‘The fire’s terrible. Apparently, one of the caretakers was blown to pieces.’
Ronnie felt the blood drain from her face. ‘What caused it?’
‘They say it was one of the new rockets Hitler’s bragged about, but we’ll have to wait and see.’
Sally worked quickly, looking up every few seconds.
‘All right, Ronnie?’
‘I keep feeling faint.’
‘You won’t faint. I’ll make sure of that. You’re just in shock on an empty stomach.’ Sally paused. ‘Is your hand very painful?’
‘No. I can’t feel anything.’
‘Hmm.’ Sally tore the end piece of the bedsheet in two vertically and used the strips to finish with a loose knot. ‘That’s all I can do for the time being. Do you think you could walk if I hold your arm? It’ll be quicker than waiting for someone to come for you. Long as you can keep your bad hand up above your heart.’
‘Yes, I can do that.’ Ronnie suddenly looked around. Lucky wasn’t curled up on her usual chair. ‘Oh, Sally, where’s Lucky?’
There was a horrible silence.
‘Sally?’
‘I’m afraid it’s bad news. I thought she was just asleep but when I touched her she didn’t move. She wouldn’t have known a thing.’
‘Oh, no. Not my little Lucky.’ Tears poured down Ronnie’s cheeks, leaving dirty streams. ‘I promised Margaret I’d look after her.’
‘But you did.’ Sally’s voice was soothing.
‘Where was she?’
‘On the deck. It’s been such a nice day she didn’t want to come in when I called her earlier. But it wouldn’t have made any difference. She wouldn’t have survived.’
‘I hate them!’ Ronnie bellowed, making Sally flinch. ‘Bloody Nazis with their bloody bombs. Everyone says they don’t have a chance of winning the war but they don’t let up.’
‘They won’t, as long as Hitler is in charge,’ Sally said. She took Ronnie gently by her arm. ‘Come on, Ron. It really is important that you get seen to quickly. There’s nothing more you can do here.’
‘What about all this mess?’ Ronnie said, for the first time really taking in the devastation. ‘It looks terrible. Like the cabin’s taken a direct hit.’
‘Don’t worry. Jess and I’ll see to it.’
Reluctantly, Ronnie rose to her feet and allowed Sally to help her through the hatch and out of the butty onto the towpath.
A warden was blocking their way.
‘Sorry, love, stand back, and let the firemen do their job.
‘My friend’s been injured,’ Sally said. ‘It’s quite serious and we need to get her to a hospital. I’ve called an ambulance.’
The warden looked at the now blood-soaked bandage.
‘Oh, dear.’ He frowned as though to make a decision. ‘Right-o. Stay where you are. We’ve got one ambulance here already and another on the way. Let me have a word.’
Ronnie shivered. Her teeth began to chatter and Sally glanced at her anxiously.
‘Are you cold?’
‘Not really,’ Ronnie answered.
‘It’s still quite warm,’ Sally said, putting an arm round her. ‘You’re in shock. I hope to goodness they don’t keep us here long.’
The warden was a few minutes but he came back with an older woman in Red Cross uniform.
‘I’m Dr Hamlyn,’ she said. ‘What happened to you, my dear?’
Sally quickly explained, and the doctor nodded. ‘We’re taking three injured men to hospital right away, so you can come with us.’
‘Would I be allowed to go with her?’ Sally said.
‘Sorry, my dear. We’re going to be crowded as it is.’
‘What hospital are you taking her to?’
‘Queen’s Hill.’
Sally nodded and turned to Ronnie who was feeling dizzy again.
‘Jess and I’ll find out where you are,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about anything. Just get that hand sorted out.’
Ronnie nodded, too upset about Lucky to argue.
‘Miss Linfoot … Veronica … wake up!’
Ronnie opened her eyes, a smell of disinfectant in her nostrils. She blinked. Where on earth was she? Then a fuzzy white-clad figure came into her line of vision. It bent over her.
‘Ah, you’re awake.’
‘Where am I?’
‘In hospital.’
Alarmed, Ronnie tried to jerk into a sitting position.
‘Why …? What …?’ She shook her head, trying to clear it. ‘How long have I been here?’
‘You came in two days ago.’ It was a man’s voice. A voice of authority. ‘A doodle-bug fell on one of the warehouses opposite your boat. I’m Mr Ferris, who operated on your hand.’
Then it came back to her. The explosion. Her hand. Lucky. And Michael’s letter. Overwhelmed, she fell back onto the pillows again and began to sob uncontrollably.
‘There, there. No reason for that. The operation went well but it’s going to take some time for the movement to recover because a nerve was severed. But it will come back, I promise. You’ve had a temperature as well, but it’s almost back to normal. We’ll soon have you out of here and back with your mother.’ He smiled down at her, transforming his angular features. ‘What a charming lady she is.’
Maman had come? Ronnie wiped her eyes with the back of her good hand.
‘Why didn’t someone tell me she was here?’
‘You were sound asleep. She wouldn’t let the nurse wake you up, but she stayed by your side yesterday through visiting hours. She’d had quite a tiring journey what with the delays, so I told her you’d be home in a few days and not to try it again as we would let her know how you were doing.’ He picked up her chart at the end of the bed and glanced at it. ‘Though it’ll be a long time before you’ll be able to go back to working on the canals,’ he continued. ‘By then we all hope the war will be over.’
Ronnie lay there, the surgeon’s words floating over her head without her really taking them in. All she could think of was that Maman had been worried enough to make a journey fraught with problems to come and see her. The thought warmed her heart.
‘And you certainly won’t be fit to go back until your own doctor says so,’ the surgeon continued.
‘How long do you think it will be before I can use it properly?’ Ronnie managed.
‘It could be several months.’
Ronnie gave a nervous laugh. ‘Months? I can’t be away that long because there’s only two of them. We’re a team of three. We all work together for both boats. They can’t manage on their own all that time.’
‘I’m afraid they’ll have to – or get someone in your place. I know too well what heavy work is involved from the boaters who come in here having had nasty accidents. Big heavy chaps, too.’ He looked down at her, his eyes twinkling. ‘And you, Miss Linfoot, are no match, trying to do men’s work. So dry your tears and I’ll look in tomorrow.’ He straightened up and left.
Trying to do men’s work. A flare of temper rose inside her. She felt as though she was coming alive again after having no recollection at all of how she’d been brought here. Her head cleared. She hadn’t been trying all these months – she’d been doing it. Even Dora said she was doing a good job. No. There was no doubt in her mind she’d be going back to the boats. Be with Jess and Sally. Continue to do her bit in the war that she was secretly proud of and wanting Maman and her sisters to unders
tand and be proud of her too. And Michael. She hadn’t even had a chance to answer his letter.
She swallowed. She didn’t even have his letter. She had no address – no way of contacting him. She’d never be able to tell him how sorry she was she’d been so hateful. She’d let him slip through her fingers because of her own stupidity. Only now did she realise something momentous.
She loved him.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Downe, near Bromley
The taxi driver pulled up outside Ronnie’s home. He sprang out to take her rucksack and left it on the doorstep while she paid him.
‘Thank you, miss.’ He glanced at her arm. ‘You take care of yourself, now.’
Coming home after a long spell working ten, sometimes twelve or more hours a day with no leave, and then the hospital, felt very strange. Maman would want to know every detail of how she came to have the accident. Ronnie sighed, then rang the bell. Almost immediately the door flew open and Rusty hurled himself on her, barking joyfully.
‘Rusty! Down, boy!’
‘Véronique! My little girl! I have been waiting for this moment. Entre, chérie.’ Simone glanced at her arm. ‘But you are in the sling.’
‘That’s good,’ Ronnie said. ‘It reminds me to be careful with it.’ She gave her mother an awkward peck on the cheek.
‘You have worried me half to death,’ her mother said as she took Ronnie’s bag. ‘Come into the front room. You must tell me all about it when I have made the tea. Did they tell you I came to the hospital?’
‘Yes, I wish they’d woken me. I’d love to have seen you. It was a shame you had a wasted journey.’
Her mother smiled. ‘Non, it was no waste. I could see for myself my daughter and speak to the doctor. And I telephoned every day. Did they tell you?’
‘Yes,’ Ronnie said. ‘I always sent my love to you.’
‘That bit they did not say.’
‘I expect they’re very busy.’
Ronnie allowed herself to be guided to her father’s chair, Simone chattering non-stop. She was grateful when her mother disappeared to the kitchen. She needed a few minutes to compose herself before Maman began her round of questions.
