Diamonds in the Dust

by Beryl Matthews

  But this was different. He was in love with Dora!

  Resting his head in his hands he swore with ferocity. Didn’t he have enough problems without adding a hopeless cause to the list? Of all the stupid things to do …

  ‘Stan!’ Winnie had arrived. ‘I’ve never heard you use such language. Are you all right?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ he growled. He told her what had happened.

  ‘And you say she’s gone to work? She shouldn’t have done that. Why didn’t you stop her?’

  ‘I can’t give her orders. But those three are suffering and I feel so damned helpless. I’ve got to do something!’ Stan’s first two attempts to stand up failed. ‘Get the crutches for me, Win.’

  With those, and his sister’s help, he eventually got to his feet. ‘Do one more thing for me. Get my bike out of the shed, please.’

  Winnie studied him with concern. ‘You don’t look in a fit state to even go out, let alone ride a bike! But there’s no point me asking you to stay here, is there?’

  ‘None at all.’ Stan dredged up a grim smile. ‘I’ll be all right once I get moving.’

  It was then Winnie spotted the nearly empty bottle on the floor by the fireplace. ‘Have you got a hangover? Is that what’s wrong with you?’

  ‘Stop worrying, I didn’t drink all that on my own.’ He told her about Alan.

  She smiled. ‘Oh that’s wonderful, Stan. You must have been so pleased to see each other.’

  ‘It was good. We did our best to drink the bottle dry, and we didn’t stop talking for three hours. Dora made sure we had some food.’

  ‘Sensible girl.’

  ‘Alan was still sober enough to make it home. At least, that’s what he said.’

  ‘You should have asked him to stay.’

  ‘I did, but he refused.’ Stan took a couple of tentative steps, grunted with satisfaction and changed the crutches for the stick. ‘You going to get my bike for me, Win?’

  She pulled a face. ‘Men! No sense at all.’

  The station was quiet when Stan arrived, but Reg had just returned from pounding his beat.

  ‘Stan, you look awful. What have you been up to?’

  ‘Working my way through a bottle of whisky with a bloke I thought was dead. But I’ll tell you about that later. Is there any glimmer of hope in the search for Mrs Bentley?’

  ‘Not a damned thing!’

  Stan ran a hand over his eyes, weary beyond belief. ‘Dora collapsed this morning.’

  ‘Oh Lord, I’m sorry. Is she all right now?’

  ‘Says she is, and she’s gone to work.’ Stan let out a ragged sigh. ‘Why can’t we find this blasted woman, Reg? Do you think she’s in the Thames?’

  ‘It’s possible, but I’m beginning to doubt she’s dead.’ Reg perched on the edge of the desk, his expression thoughtful. ‘I think she’s done a runner. Do you think Dora and Tom would mind if we went public with this?’

  ‘The newspapers?’ When Reg nodded, Stan said, ‘I don’t think they’d mind what we do any more. They’re really suffering, but let me clear it with Dora first. I’ll go and see her right away.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Feeling stronger now, but ashamed of herself for falling to pieces like that, Dora walked into the Wandsworth house. The bright front door seemed to welcome her, and when Dobbs waved cheerily, she felt better. Things were all right. Not normal – they couldn’t be – but it was as if a pressure inside her had been released. It had obviously been building, and Lily’s unhappiness had brought it to the surface. The little girl was understandably confused. They worried and protected their sister. She had been a delicate baby, often sick, and they spoilt her. That had been easy to do because she was a bright child, and so easy to love. But they couldn’t protect her from every heartbreak in life, as much as they wanted to.

  Dora made her way to the large room at the back of the house. It had been turned into a place where the young men could meet. There was a dartboard, table tennis, easy chairs, and tables where they could play cards. Any ex-serviceman was welcome, and she had discovered that many came to pass the time. The injured couldn’t find jobs, and they gave up in discouragement after a while. At least they were welcome here.

  She opened the door and smiled brightly. ‘Good morning. Who would like tea?’

  Six men were already there. They nodded, returning her smile.

  ‘Coming right up.’

  ‘Hey, Dora,’ Pete called, as she turned to leave the room. ‘Any chance of sandwiches?’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ She hurried to the kitchen, glad to be busy. She had never fainted before in her life, and it wasn’t something she would want to repeat. Everyone had been frightened – including herself.

  Dobbs followed her to the kitchen carrying a bag. ‘Here lass, you’ll need this. I expect those boys are hungry as usual.’

  The bag contained bread, milk, cheese, butter, tomatoes and even slices of ham. ‘Wow!’ Dora exclaimed. ‘Where did you get all this?’

  ‘Donations.’ He smirked. ‘I can’t hear when people say no.’

  She laughed. ‘They give up trying to refuse and just hand the things over, do they?’

  ‘Eh?’ Dobbs’ expression remained serious, but there was amusement in his pale grey eyes. ‘I’ll have a couple of cheese sandwiches when you’ve made them. Keep a bit of ham for the doc. He said he’s going to pop in this morning.’

  ‘I’ll do that.’

  ‘Right, now I’ll be in with the boys. I’m gonna thrash them at ping pong!’

  Dora soon had two large plates piled high with sandwiches, and had turned to put the kettle on to boil for the tea when she saw the doctor standing in the doorway, studying her intently.

  ‘Oh, hello, sir, I didn’t hear you come in.’ He walked towards her, placed one hand on her forehead, and with the other held her wrist. ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Liar. You look drained. What’s happened, Dora?’

  There was an air of quiet authority about him, and much to her shame, her eyes filled with tears. ‘I fainted this morning.’

  He led her to a chair and made her sit down. ‘Tell me about it. I’m a good listener.’

  Dora began hesitantly at first, but it was such a relief to talk freely. The story tumbled out, and when she had finished she looked at him, anguish in her eyes. ‘It’s terrible,’ she admitted.

  ‘I’m so sorry, my dear. I suppose the burden of keeping your little family together has fallen on your shoulders.’

  ‘Like a ton of bricks.’ She grimaced. ‘That isn’t strictly true. My brother Tom is supporting me all the way, and we’ve got the help of our neighbour, Stan Crawford, and his family. They’re very good to us.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Dr Burridge gazed into space as he held her wrist. Then he patted her hand. ‘You tell me if you feel faint again.’

  She nodded and watched him walk away, intent on the day’s work. He was such a kind man, she thought, and easy to talk to. She went back to preparing the tea and sandwiches.

  With everything loaded on trays, Dora picked up the first one.

  ‘Here, let me help you with those.’

  Recognising Alan’s voice, Dora turned to say that she could manage. The words died as she saw him. ‘Oh, you’ve got your leg!’

  ‘And a hand.’ He held it up for her to see.

  ‘That’s wonderful! Please, show me how you can walk.’

  He walked across the room and back again. Dora couldn’t stop smiling. ‘I’m so happy for you. You walk well!’

  ‘Not bad, huh?’ He grinned and bowed. ‘Would you dance with me, miss?’

  ‘I’d love to, sir.’ Dora joined in his pleasure and curtsied gracefully. They waltzed around the kitchen, Alan singing softly.

  The burst of applause from the doorway stopped them. Dobbs was actually smiling. ‘Well done, sir.’

  ‘Thank you, Dobbs. I had them fitted this morning at Roehampton. The first leg they gave me wa
s terrible, but this one feels fine.’

  ‘You must come and show the doc.’ Dobbs picked up the heavy teapot. ‘Let’s get this lot to the boys and we can have a celebration. Always good to see another young man back on his feet – so to speak.’

  Dora and Alan picked up a tray each and followed Dobbs in procession along the passage.

  ‘Look at the captain, Doc!’ Dobbs was shouting as soon as they entered the room. ‘He can even dance. Bloody wonderful I call that!’

  The doctor came straight over to Alan. ‘Ah, good, you’ve got them at last. Let me see what you can do.’

  Alan obliged, receiving smiles of approval from the other men in the room.

  ‘Good, good.’ Dr Burridge took a close look at the limbs. ‘Well done, Alan. Now, don’t overdo it for a few days, but you should be all right now.’

  ‘Thanks for all your help, Doc. I don’t know what we’d do without you.’

  The doctor waved away the compliment. ‘All I do is give you advice, encouragement and a place to meet.’

  ‘That’s just what we need,’ Charlie told him. ‘Some of us would have given up without your support. When I came out of Queen Mary’s, Roehampton, I felt as if my life was over. Then I found this place. It’s the best thing that could have happened to me.’

  John was nodding. ‘Knowing we can come here and meet others makes it worth getting up in the morning.’

  There were murmurs of agreement.

  ‘Tea’s poured out,’ Dobbs announced, and they all crowded round for the refreshments, talking and smiling. Seeing Alan’s success had given them all the hope that they would soon be able to do the same. Many had more severe injuries and wouldn’t be able to walk as well as Alan, but the proof that it was possible was lifting their spirits.

  The food was demolished amid lively talk. Collecting the empty trays, Dora left them to it and returned to the kitchen. The doctor would call her when he needed help with something, but there was plenty here to keep her busy. She couldn’t get over how fine Alan had looked, so tall and straight. He was obviously a good dancer, as well.

  Dora was giving the kitchen sink a good clean when Dobbs looked in. ‘Bloke’s just arrived. Said he’s got to see you. Never been here before, but he’s another poor sod who can hardly walk.’

  Dora dried her hands, hoping the man hadn’t heard Dobbs’ comments. Being hard of hearing he was included to speak rather loudly. When she looked up she was astonished to see the figure who stood in the doorway. ‘Stan!’

  ‘You know him?’ When she nodded, Dobbs went back to whatever he had been doing.

  ‘Have you come to see Alan? He’s got his new leg, and he walks ever so well. Come and meet everyone. They’re all in the other room …’

  Stan held up his hand to stop her. ‘I’ve really come to see you. I need your permission for something.’

  Now she was curious. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s an idea Reg has.’ Stan sat on a chair by the table. ‘We’re getting nowhere with the search, and he’s suggested that we put an appeal in the newspapers. Someone somewhere must know something. But we won’t do it if you object.’

  Dora sat beside him, considered the idea for only a few moments, took a deep breath and said, ‘Go ahead. We need an end to this – whatever that end might be. If there’s the smallest chance it will help, then do it. I know Tom will agree.’

  Stan nodded, looking at her with respect, knowing it hadn’t been an easy decision to make. ‘You understand this might mean unwelcome publicity and you could be pestered by reporters?’

  She nodded, not liking the idea, but they had to do something. The longer this went on, the more strain it was putting on all of them. ‘It’s got to be done, hasn’t it? If it finds Mum, then it’ll be worth it.’

  ‘We want to hit the evening papers if we can.’

  ‘I understand. I’ll tell Tom and Lily this evening.’ With that settled, she stood up. ‘Now, while you’re here you must meet everyone.’

  ‘I can’t stop.’ Stan gripped the table to help him stand. ‘I’ve got to get back and let Reg know he can go ahead.’

  ‘There’s a telephone at the police station, isn’t there?’ Dora wanted to keep Stan here if she could. For one thing the journey had exhausted him, and as hard as he tried to hide it, the strain showed. And it would be a good chance for him to meet the doctor again. ‘Come on, there’s a phone in the office.’

  She swept out, leaving him no choice but to follow. She waited while he spoke to Reg, then said, ‘You must meet everyone while you’re here. And if you’re lucky there might be a couple of sandwiches left.’

  Without a word of protest, Stan walked beside her. Seeing he was in considerable difficulty, she placed a hand through his arm. ‘You ought to be using your crutches.’

  ‘I know, but I went to the station on my bike. I didn’t know I was coming here as well.’

  She stopped suddenly. ‘You didn’t ride your bike here, surely?’

  ‘No, came on the train. Reg will take my bike home for me if I don’t go back to the station today.’

  ‘Here we are.’ As soon as she opened the door, Alan saw Stan and walked over.

  ‘Stan! How’s the hangover?’

  ‘I’ve had worse.’ He looked the captain up and down. ‘You’re walking well on that thing.’

  ‘I’ll be even better when I get used to it.’

  ‘Crawford, isn’t it?’ Dr Burridge was beside them and holding out his hand. ‘We met on the train.’

  Stan shook hands with him. ‘Did you get that poor devil to the hospital all right?’

  ‘Yes, and he’s being taken care of now.’ The doctor studied Stan’s face. ‘You’re not any better, are you? I hope this visit means you’ll let me examine you?’

  ‘I’m not coming to hospital.’ Stan was adamant.

  ‘I have an examination room set up here. I’ll tell you exactly how things are. No lies, no pressure.’

  Dora was longing to plead with Stan to allow this, but knew it wasn’t her place to interfere.

  ‘Go on, Stan,’ Alan urged. ‘Won’t take long, and the doc’s good. Not remotely like the treatment we received on the front line.’

  Dora decided it would be best if she left the men to it, so she went over to talk to John. Although he was still finding it difficult to walk, she could see an improvement on yesterday, and told him so.

  ‘Thanks. Doc says I’ve just got to persevere.’

  She had been talking to John for a few minutes when Alan joined them. Casting a quick glance back she couldn’t see Stan or Dr Burridge.

  Alan noticed her anxious glance. ‘Stan’s agreed to let the doc have a look at him. But don’t raise your hopes too much. He’s been told there’s nothing they can do for him, and the doc might agree.’

  Dora nodded. ‘I know, but it would help if he could be made more comfortable.’

  ‘You really care for him, don’t you?’

  ‘I care about everyone who’s still suffering because of that terrible war. This house is a little oasis in the middle of indifference. But don’t start me on that subject, Alan, or I’ll rant on for hours!’ Dora picked up two cups from under a chair. ‘I must get back to work, but I’ll see you later.’

  Dobbs had collected most of the crockery, but hadn’t attempted to wash up, so Dora set about the task. She hoped Stan would come and see her before he left.

  It was nearly an hour before anyone came into the kitchen, and she had started to wash down the walls, with the idea of giving the kitchen a fresh coat of paint. She might even be able to persuade some of the more able-bodied men to help. Dora had seen enough to know that some of them felt useless, but that wasn’t true, there would be some jobs they could do.

  ‘Leave that, Dora.’ Dr Burridge looked in. ‘I could use your help in my office. What’s your handwriting like?’

  ‘Very neat, so I’m told.’

  ‘Excellent. Come with me.’

  ‘Where’s Stan?’
she asked as soon as they were in his office.

  ‘Having a game of cards with Alan and some of the others.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good. He’ll enjoy that.’ Dora hesitated. She had no right to ask, but just couldn’t stop herself. ‘He let you examine him then?’

  ‘Hmm.’ The doctor handed her a pile of letters. ‘I’ve scribbled my decisions at the bottom of these. Answer them for me. And I can’t discuss my patients, Dora.’

  ‘No, of course not.’ She looked him straight in the eyes. ‘Is Stan your patient, then?’

  ‘You’ll have to ask him that.’ He added another letter to the pile. ‘I’d like to post those this evening, that’s if you think you can get them ready by then?’

  ‘They’ll be finished and waiting for you.’ Knowing she wasn’t going to get anything out of him, she set to work. The doctor’s notes at the bottom of each letter were brief, leaving her to compose a proper reply in her own words. She had always been good at this kind of thing, and found it very enjoyable.

  Dr Burridge disappeared for the next hour, obviously pleased to leave this task with her. By the time he returned, she had the replies in a neat pile awaiting his approval and signature.

  He read each one, signing as he went along. Dora was expecting him to pass some back to her to be redone, but he never did.

  ‘We’ll post these on the way home.’ He looked thoughtful and shuffled through the letters again.

  Dora held her breath. When he said nothing, she asked, ‘Are they all right?’

  ‘They’re excellent. Where did you learn to write like this?’

  ‘Mum used to give us lessons at weekends. Her writing was beautiful.’ Mentioning her mother made the pain return – not that it was ever far away.

  ‘Stan told me they’re doing everything they can to find out what’s happened, my dear,’ he said, gently.

  ‘I know, but it’s distressing not knowing.’ She pulled the letters towards her, not wanting to talk about it any more. ‘I’ll do the envelopes, shall I?’