by Anna Jacobs
Penny, who seemed to have appointed herself leader, introduced herself and the two others.
‘I’m Jane Harper,’ the newcomer said in a voice with a marked East End accent. ‘I already know Phoebe.’
‘Any of you done any nursing before?’ Amy asked.
When no one else spoke, Phoebe said, ‘I looked after my mother for two years when she was dying. And I helped lay her out after she died.’ She didn’t tell many people this.
‘You’ll know more about the practicalities, then. Actually, I’m hoping they’ll assign me to driving duties. I can drive already, been practising on my brother’s car. He’s joined the navy, so he’s had to leave it at home. It’s a Model T Ford, not a big Sunbeam like Daddy’s, but it gets you round nicely. My brother only bought it last year. He hated to leave it behind.’
She was obviously a car enthusiast.
A voice called, ‘C Group, please!’ and Amy stopped talking.
A woman in another sort of Red Cross uniform beckoned and led them out of the hall. ‘Step out smartly!’ she tossed over her shoulder, not even looking to check that they were keeping up with her.
They were put into a charabanc. The long vehicle had five rows of bench seats set behind the driver, each with its own door at each end. It looked as if it was ready for an excursion to the seaside – until you saw that the rear seats were loaded with medical supplies and large wooden boxes whose contents could only be imagined.
There was only just enough room for the four young women to cram on to the seat behind the elderly male driver and his younger assistant.
‘Well, here we go,’ said Penny, who seemed unable to keep quiet for more than two minutes. ‘And they haven’t even told us the name of the place we’re going to.’
Jane didn’t join in the conversation unless asked a direct question. She was, Phoebe always thought, like an alert little bird, her eyes darting here and there, bright with interest and intelligence. But she kept her thoughts to herself and never wasted a word on mere chat.
‘Have you ever been out of London before, Jane?’ Phoebe asked after a while, trying to pull her into the conversation.
‘No. No one in my family has. We were all born in the East End. I’m the first for several generations to go so far away.’
‘Once we arrive, I’m going to get hold of a map and find out exactly where we are,’ Amy said. ‘I’m from Norfolk, don’t know Wiltshire at all.’
‘I’d like to see it on a map, too.’ Jane fell quiet again, huddling down a bit now in her inadequate coat.
Even Penny had stopped talking. After a while she unwound her scarf and passed it to Jane. ‘Here. I have a fur collar. You look cold.’
‘Oh. Well … thank you very much.’
They drove along the dusty roads at a steady pace, stopping once for refreshments and to use the conveniences behind a small pub whose owner seemed acquainted with their driver.
When they entered Swindon, Phoebe shrank down in her seat and refrained from looking round … just in case. She didn’t relax until they left the town and headed north.
‘Is something wrong?’ Jane whispered.
‘I used to live here. There’s a fellow who wanted to marry me, only I couldn’t stand him. I don’t want him to see me. He got a bit violent.’
‘Some men do. My cousin thumps his wife. If any man ever tries to thump me, I’ll take a rolling pin to him.’
‘How do you know your cousin thumps her?’ Penny asked.
‘You can see the bruises. She pretends she’s clumsy, but she ain’t. It’s him. We all know that. But what can you do? He’s her husband.’
‘Gosh. How awful!’ Amy exclaimed.
‘You have to be careful who you marry,’ Jane went on. ‘Me, I’m not going to get married at all.’
‘I’d love to, but they’ll be short of young men after the war, my father says.’ Penny sighed. ‘Just my luck.’
The other three fell silent at her words. It was as if the world was changing beneath their feet, Phoebe thought, the path different with every step they took. Things were being said and done that wouldn’t have been thought of before. People were working together who’d have walked past each other in the street without even turning their heads.
What would life be like after all this turmoil?
‘Soon be there now, girls,’ the driver said half an hour later.
As they turned a bend, he yelled and braked hard, throwing them against one another. The charabanc came to a sudden halt because their way was blocked by a milling crowd of sheep, two of whom had to skip quickly out of the way of the vehicle, one of which got bumped aside.
It was several minutes before the road was clear and the sheep safely penned in a new field. The farmer waved at them cheerfully and went on his way.
‘There’s no hurrying sheep,’ the driver’s assistant said as they set off again. ‘They scatter if you try. That was a clever dog he had. Worth their weight in gold, good sheepdogs are.’
Five minutes later, the driver said, ‘Here we are, girls. This is it: Bellbourne House.’
The charabanc turned right into a long, tree-lined avenue, at the end of which stood a huge house. It looked more Elizabethan than anything, Phoebe thought, staring ahead at the big square bay windows, jutting out in four columns across the facade. She’d seen photos of places like this in books borrowed from the library.
The scene would have been idyllically beautiful, if it hadn’t been spoilt by two ambulances standing to one side. From one of them, injured men were being carried into the building on stretchers, covered in grey blankets; from the other ambulance, the walking wounded were being helped to get down and move into the house. It reminded Phoebe of the scene at the railway station.
The wounded soldiers stopped moving to stare at them. One waved and gave them a cheerful grin, so she waved back.
They drove round to the rear of the house, which had two small wings, between which the driver came to a halt. ‘Here we are.’
A maid stuck her head out of the door. ‘They’re all busy with the new patients. Sergeant Buchanan says to come inside and have a cup of tea while you wait for the orderlies to be free to help you unload the new equipment. Looks like you’ve got some heavy boxes there.’
‘What about our cases?’ Penny asked. ‘We could bring those in ourselves.’
‘They’ll be out of the way if you leave them there for the moment. It’s chaos in here.’ The four women slid along the bench seat to the car doors at each end of it, this time with no one to open it for them or help them down. Our idle days are over, Phoebe thought to herself. She followed the cheerful maid into a big room next to the kitchen, which had been set up as a mess and was crammed with tables of all shapes and sizes.
‘There are always people coming and going,’ their guide said cheerfully. ‘You’ll soon get used to it. I’ll fetch you a big pot of tea. Cups and saucers are over there, with the milk and sugar. And there are some currant buns. You’ll have to help yourselves. I’m Nelly, by the way.’
‘Looks like they feed you well here,’ the driver said, stretching and waggling his arms in the air before settling into a chair. His assistant got him some food and a cup of tea as soon as a huge enamel teapot arrived.
It would be more like an hour before anyone could attend to the new VADs, Nelly said. ‘Why don’t you go out and explore the gardens? Get a breath of fresh air while it’s fine. It poured down all day yesterday.’
‘Won’t anyone mind?’
‘Why should they? They can’t help you settle in yet. They’re too busy with the men. And what else are gardens for but enjoying?’
Eventually an orderly came to find them and escort them back into the house to meet Matron. He left them with her in a room off the main entrance hall, then went back outside to help unload their trunks and cases.
This room must have been beautiful before it was converted into an office, Phoebe thought. The ceiling had delicate plasterwork patterns and the
curtains were a rich red in colour.
‘Welcome to Bellbourne House. I’m Matron Turner and this is my deputy, Sister Langham, to whom you four will answer. We’re very glad to see you, because we’re short-handed and still settling in here. I’m going to assign three of you to nursing and domestic duties, and one to the ambulances. Do any of you drive?’
‘I do,’ Amy said. ‘I love driving but I’ve only just learnt. I’m not sure about driving a big ambulance.’
‘Don’t worry. Practice makes perfect. You’ll be assigned to Corporal Stokes, who is our driver and general factotum, and he’ll help you brush up your skills. We have to take the patients into Swindon sometimes to catch a train, or go there to pick up other patients. And we like to give the long-term patients little outings if the weather is fine. Some will have to stay here for quite a while, poor fellows, and it does cheer them up to get out and about.’
By the time Matron had finished her briefing, Phoebe’s head was spinning with information.
‘Now, girls, Sister Langham will take you to your quarters.’
To their surprise, the plump, grey-haired sister took them outside again, to what had been the outdoor staff’s dining room, across the backyard next to the stables.
‘It’ll have to house eight VADs,’ she announced, ‘and you’re the first to arrive. Here we are.’
They stopped to stare inside at some piles of bed frames and mattresses.
The sister smiled. ‘Your first test of initiative. Do you need me to send you an orderly or do you think you can put the bed frames together yourselves?’
They looked at one another, then Phoebe decided to tell the truth. ‘If he can show us how to do one, I’m sure we can do the others ourselves, but as it is, I wouldn’t know how best to do it.’
The sister nodded. ‘Right attitude. If you really don’t know how to do something, find out and then give it a go. I’ll see if Corporal Stokes is anywhere around. He’s a handy fellow. Once the beds are up, two of you can come to me for the bedding. You’ll be issued the same as the patients, all the staff will. I’ll leave you to make up all eight beds.’
She vanished and they waited.
‘I never thought I’d be putting furniture together,’ Penny said. ‘I hope mine doesn’t collapse in the middle of the night. I’m a restless sleeper.’
Amy wandered across to the window at the front. ‘No curtains. We’ll need to change clothes in here, and we don’t want to encourage peeping Toms.’
‘Better make a list of the things we need.’ Jane opened her big, shabby bag and took out a notebook and pencil. ‘Towels, bedlinen, curtains.’
‘Wash basins and ewers.’
‘A screen round the washing area.’
‘Find out where the conveniences are,’ Amy said, grimacing. ‘Not to mention toilet paper.’
‘We always tore up newspapers for that,’ Phoebe said.
‘Ugh. Rather rough on the backside.’
‘Cheap, though.’
They’d written down everything they could think of when footsteps came clumping across the yard. A huge man in uniform came into the dormitory. ‘Corporal Stokes reporting for duty, ladies. I’ve got exactly half an hour to help you, so let’s not waste a second.’
By the time he left, they had erected a second bed themselves under his guidance, and he’d said they were quick learners.
When they were on their own, Amy said thoughtfully, ‘Talk about being thrown in at the deep end.’
‘We’re coping, though, aren’t we?’ Phoebe said. ‘And we have it easy compared to the men who’ll be sent here.’
They were all silent for a moment or two, then carried on working on the beds and arranging the furniture. At least they had a small chest of drawers each, and a half share in one of the four wardrobes.
‘I’m never going to remember everything we’ve been told today,’ Amy said as they unpacked their clothing. ‘I’m no good with details, never have been.’
‘We can help each other remember things,’ Jane said quietly.
By the time they’d unpacked, Phoebe was exhausted and glad to sit quietly over an evening meal in the mess. Again, they had to serve themselves.
She was about to go to bed early, when they were called to help clear up the kitchen. They saw a long corridor leading out of it with a shelf along one side, where trays full of dirty dishes were standing.
Nelly took charge. ‘We have to wash the dishes ready for breakfast. When it’s cleaned up, that shelf is where the patients’ trays are set for meals and food is served. It’s been hard getting everything done, so we’re all glad to see you four. It won’t take long tonight with all of us piling in.’
Sister Langham came along for her evening meal as the four young women were finishing washing the dishes. She beckoned them across. ‘Phoebe and Jane, you’ll be on for the early-morning shift in the kitchen, setting the trays for the patients’ breakfasts, washing up, preparing food, whatever’s needed. You’ll need to be here by five o’clock. Amy, you’ll start with Corporal Stokes tomorrow morning at seven o’clock.’
She turned to the maid. ‘Nelly, thank you for all your hard work. If you can bear to teach our new helpers what’s needed tomorrow, you can start later for a day or two after that to give you a break.’
‘Thanks, Sister.’
The nurse continued her explanations. ‘The beds at the hospital are only a quarter full so far, but that still means twenty patients’ trays to set out. Staff serve themselves in the dining room. Corporal Stokes is going to arrange for another line of shelves to be erected above this one, for when we’ve got our full quota of patients. All right?’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘I should get to bed early if I were you. Oh, and you’ll be answering to Cook for the moment, Phoebe and Jane. She’s gone to visit her ailing mother today, but she’ll be back on duty tomorrow. Nelly’s in charge till then. Penny, I’ll tell you each day where I need you. You’re my reserve for emergencies, and don’t think there won’t be any, however efficient we are.’
By the time Phoebe got into bed, she was exhausted. She’d be all right here, but she wasn’t going into Swindon, if she could help it. She knew too many people there, any one of whom could mention her to her relatives. And then what would Frank do?
She woke with a start from a nightmare about him grabbing her, as he had before, to find moonlight streaming in through the uncurtained windows and someone shaking her.
‘You all right?’ Jane whispered.
‘Just had a nightmare, that’s all.’
‘I’ll leave you to sleep, then.’
As Phoebe snuggled down in the narrow bed, she heard Jane yawning and that made her yawn too.
She’d expected to lie awake for a while, as she usually did after a nightmare, but the next thing she knew, the alarm clock Sister had given them was ringing and they had to get up.
Chapter Ten
Benedict got out of his car and studied the house more closely. Greyladies was much smaller than he’d expected and even before he went inside, that worried him. With the severely injured patients he was expecting to house here as the war progressed, a bigger establishment would be better, so that one man’s death didn’t leave such a big hole in the group.
He frowned, remembering a poem he’d loved, seeking to get the words exactly right in his mind:
Any man’s death diminishes me
Because I am involved in mankind.
That was it. By … yes, John Donne: ‘No Man is an Island’. He loved that poem.
How true that was of present circumstances!
The trouble was, there weren’t enough larger establishments to cater for the casualties they were expecting, but this place, pretty as it was, surely couldn’t be called a hospital or have the facilities to deal even with the minor corrective surgery in which he specialised. He’d place Greyladies under the category ‘other’ and at best call it a ‘small convalescent home’.
A grey-hair
ed woman with rather masculine features came out of the house and stood waiting for him in the doorway, arms folded, positively bristling with white starched garments. ‘Dr Somers?’
‘Yes. You must be the matron.’ He had met her once before somewhere, he thought, but couldn’t for the life of him remember her name or where it had been. Perhaps she’d attended one of his talks.
‘I’m Matron Dawkins. We have met before, Dr Somers.’
‘Have we? Sorry. Life’s been such a whirlwind lately, I’m afraid things have passed in a blur at times.’
She scowled at him. The expression looked as if it sat regularly on her face.
‘I was sorry I couldn’t get here sooner to be involved in setting up the convalescent home—’
‘Convalescent hospital, surely, Dr Somers?’
‘Is it large enough to call a hospital?’
‘A small auxiliary hospital, surely.’
The status seemed important to her, but it was the men’s welfare that mattered to him. ‘We’ll see. As I was saying, I had some important work to finish before I could come here, including some delicate operations.’
‘I was quite capable of making a start. I have, after all, been nursing for several decades now and know what is needed. Do come inside.’
He sighed at her tone as he followed her. The appointment of a matron hadn’t been in his hands and he’d never have chosen a woman with such a sour expression to deal with men facing permanent disablement. He could only hope that when they got to know one another better, when they grew used to working as a team, the tension between him and Matron would ease. She had better be tactful with the men who would be coming here later. He wouldn’t put up with trying to regiment badly disabled chaps.
She gestured towards a door to the left. ‘I’ve allocated this room for your office.’
He walked inside and stopped in shock at the sight of a huge drawing room. ‘This is far too big for one person! Most of my work will be on the wards or doing minor operations. And I’ll still be going into Swindon to supervise training of doctors, or if there are more complex operations needed. We should try to find a smaller room elsewhere for my office, not waste this space on one man.’
