Sing As We Go

by Margaret Dickinson

  Brenda chattered all the way as she led the girls in the party to the nurses’ home, situated to one side of the huge hospital. ‘You’ll have to sleep in a dormitory. I hope you don’t mind. One or two have moved out temporarily so you can all be together. I hope we’ve prepared enough beds . . .’ She did a quick head count. ‘Oh yes, that’s right. Five of you. That’s what we were told. What do you all do? Sing? Dance? What?’

  ‘I’m the female vocalist,’ Kathy volunteered. ‘Rosie, Maureen and Joan are dancers and Melody here, well, she’s a very talented actress.’

  ‘And she does some wicked impersonations too,’ Rosie put in, while Melody blushed prettily.

  ‘Sounds like a great show,’ Brenda said, leading them up two flights of stairs and flinging open the door to a long, airy room with beds and lockers down each side, each one separated by a green curtain. ‘Here we are. I hope you’re going to be comfortable. I’ll see you settled in and unpacked and then I’ll take you down to the canteen. They’ve got a meal waiting for you.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Maureen spoke for the first time. ‘I’m starving.’

  The men of the party joined them in the canteen.

  ‘Now,’ Ron began when everyone had finished. ‘We’re going to build a bit of a stage at the end of the room there, but not all the patients can get here. Some are too ill, so, as you may know, Matron has asked that we take one or two of the acts into the wards. Our two vocalists – ’ he nodded towards Kathy and Roly – ‘and Lionel, of course, but it’s not really possible for the dancers to do their routines in the wards. Sorry, girls, and we won’t be doing the sketches in the wards either, but we thought perhaps Melody could do some of her impressions. All right, love?’

  Melody nodded, though, glancing at her, Kathy thought she looked a little apprehensive.

  The show in the canteen went well. Only the ‘walking wounded’ were there, with arms in slings and legs in plaster. ‘They mostly have GSWs,’ Brenda explained.

  ‘What’s that when it’s at home?’ Kathy asked as she brushed her hair. It had grown longer over the last few weeks and fell in shining waves and curls to her shoulders.

  Brenda laughed. ‘Oh sorry. Gun shot wound, but they’re not serious. One or two have broken legs or arms but mostly—’ She stopped when she saw Rosie’s face turn pale. Concerned, Brenda touched the girl’s arm. ‘Are you sure you’re up to this? I mean, one or two in the wards are much worse than this.’

  Rosie pressed her lips together. ‘Oh, yes. If you can look after them and face all – all that you have to, then I can certainly do a bit of high-kicking for them. That’s nothing compared to what you must have to do day after day. Besides, I’m a dancer. If I want, I can chicken out of going into the wards.’ Bravely, she forced a smile to her lips. ‘But I don’t want to. I’d like to go and talk to one or two, if we’re allowed.’

  ‘So would I,’ Kathy put in at once, before she could change her mind.

  ‘Allowed! That’d be fantastic. Some of the lads don’t get any visitors. Their families live too far away. They’d be so glad to have someone to talk to other than us for a change.’

  ‘Right you are then. Now – ’ Rosie turned her back towards Brenda – ‘make yourself useful. Fasten me up, will you? Goldilocks here’s too busy fussing with her tresses.’

  As they trooped into one of the wards a little later, Kathy took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she might see. Was this what had happened to Tony? Had he died in a hospital just like this one, far from home? Or had he been shot down and killed immediately? She shuddered inwardly, but determined to keep the smile on her face and her voice pure and steady when she sang.

  ‘Right,’ Ron said. ‘Roly, you open this little mini show and then we’ll have Lionel telling a few jokes, and close your ears, girls, because with an all-male audience he tends to get a little risqué. After that we’ll have Kathy bring a little decorum back to the proceedings and then finish off with Melody’s impressions.’

  Roly sang some rousing songs in his rich baritone voice and Lionel was a great hit with his saucy banter, but it was Kathy’s sentimental ballads that brought a tear to one or two eyes. And it wasn’t just among the patients. The nurses too, sitting or standing by the beds, reached for their handkerchiefs. But despite the tears, the cheering and clapping told her that she had touched their hearts.

  ‘Your turn, Melody,’ she said, as she left the ward and returned to the corridor just outside where the young girl was waiting. Melody got up and pushed open the door into the ward. Something in the girl’s face made Kathy turn and watch her through the glass panel in the door. She saw her walk to the centre of the room without glancing to left or right. Melody reached the spot that Kathy had just left. Then she raised her head but no sound came. Kathy held her breath.

  ‘What is it?’ Ron said, coming up behind Kathy.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she murmured, ‘but I think . . . Oh Lord!’ She pushed open the door and walked towards Melody. She spread her arms wide and began to sing the famous Gracie Fields song that Melody always used to open her spot. It was always instantly recognized and the girl did a magnificent impression of the much-loved singer. But not tonight. Poor Melody stood transfixed by the sight of the wounded soldiers.

  Kathy reached her and put her arm around her shoulder, trying to give the girl the strength to go on. But the younger girl gave a little sob, put her hand over her mouth and turned and fled out of the ward, crashing the door back against the wall in her desperate bid to escape. Without faltering, Kathy sang on, swiftly going into the second of Gracie’s songs that Melody used. ‘It’s the Biggest Aspidistra in the World.’ Though she couldn’t emulate Gracie’s distinctive voice, she managed to inject the singer’s sense of humour, and soon she had the patients smiling and joining in the chorus. She ended with the song that Melody ended her act with, ‘Sing As We Go’.

  The clapping continued as Roly and Lionel joined her for a curtain call, even though this time there was no actual curtain.

  ‘Is she all right?’ Kathy muttered to Rosie as they came out of the double doors.

  ‘Don’t know. Ron’s gone after her. He’s asked us to stay and talk to the patients. You all right?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Kathy said. ‘Right. Let’s do it.’

  The four of them spent the next hour sitting by the bedside of those too ill or incapacitated to get to the canteen to see the full show.

  ‘And this is Charlie,’ Brenda said, trying hard to keep the laughter from her tone. The young man was lying face down. ‘ “Tail-end Charlie”, we call him. He – er – caught it in the posterior, hence his prone position.’

  ‘You can laugh,’ he muttered morosely. ‘How’d you like to be laid here like this all day long with nowt to look at but the bloody pillow.’ Charlie twisted his head and looked up at Kathy. ‘ ’Scuse me not getting up.’

  ‘That’s quite all right,’ Kathy said, sitting down near the head of the bed so that he could glance up and see her.

  ‘My – you’re pretty. Pity I couldn’t see you when you were singing. You are the singer, I take it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Nice voice too. I say, there was a bit of a kerfuffle, wasn’t there? I couldn’t see. What went on?’

  ‘It was nothing, really,’ Kathy said airily. ‘One of the young girls got a bit of stage fright, that’s all.’

  He looked up at her knowingly. ‘Chap in the next bed told me the lass took one look at us lot and scarpered. Can’t say I blame her.’ He looked – and sounded – depressed.

  Kathy bent down to him. ‘Well, we’re here, aren’t we? You can’t be that frightening.’

  ‘How long are you staying?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Three nights, I think. We do a full show in the canteen and then come to the wards.’ She forbore to add: to entertain the bedridden.

  ‘Right,’ the young man said, with a new determination in his tone. ‘Tomorrow I’ll see if I can get on my feet a
nd come to the show. I might have to stand at the back, but it’d be worth it to get a proper look at you.’

  Kathy chatted a little longer, and as she was leaving, Brenda caught hold of her arm. ‘What did Charlie say?’

  ‘Oh, nothing much really. He didn’t seem to want to talk about his family.’

  Brenda’s mouth tightened. ‘Not surprising, poor love.’

  Kathy was intrigued. ‘Why?’

  ‘No one’s been to visit him, yet they only live in York. They could get here if they wanted. Rumour has it he’s got a fiancée, but she’s sent him a “Dear John” letter. You see,’ Brenda bit her lip, ‘we try to jolly him along and tease him about getting hit in his behind, but it’s a bit more serious that that. He got it in the you-know-what’s an’ all, and I don’t think he’s much future as a husband, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘Oh,’ Kathy breathed. ‘Poor chap. Oh, how awful. And how cruel of his fiancée.’ Silently, she thought, I’d’ve cared for Tony for the rest of our lives no matter what injuries he had, if only he were still alive. Aloud she asked, ‘But what about the rest of his family? His parents?’

  ‘Seems they can’t cope with the news either. Can’t bring themselves to come and see him.’

  Kathy stared at her. She was quite lost for words now. Whatever had happened to their son, she couldn’t imagine any parents not wanting to rush to his bedside.

  ‘There’s some folk don’t deserve to have children,’ she muttered bitterly. ‘While others . . .’

  ‘You can say that again,’ Brenda said with feeling.

  Thirty-Five

  On their last night at the hospital, after the show, Ron came to the small room near the canteen allocated to the girls as a dressing room. Kathy was alone there and one look at his face told her that something was dreadfully wrong.

  ‘Oh no, Ron. Don’t tell me it’s Martin?’

  Ron shook his head, seeming unable to speak. He pulled up a chair, sat down and took her hand in his.

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong,’ Kathy demanded, her heart thumping, her mouth dry.

  ‘My dear, there – there’s been a bomb fall in our street.’

  Kathy let out a squeak of alarm and her free hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear as she asked, ‘Is – is anyone hurt or – or . . .’ She couldn’t bring herself to voice her greatest fear. Aunt Jemima. Was she badly hurt or killed? And Ron’s wife? What of her?

  ‘Mabel’s safe. It was her rang here to the hospital. She always knows where we are,’ Ron said quietly. ‘She was out at the time, thank God, but . . .’ he chewed at his lip for a brief moment before adding, ‘But Miss Robinson’s house took a direct hit and – and no one can find her. They’re still digging but . . .’

  ‘But there’s not much hope?’ Kathy said flatly.

  Ron shook his head. ‘They found her cat. He was on top of the washhouse roof, howling pitifully. Mabel tried to take him home with her – at least, to where she’s staying with some friends. Our house was badly damaged too, but old Taffy keeps escaping and going back home. He just sits on top of the rubble, she says, miaowing.’

  ‘When did it happen?’

  ‘Yesterday, some time. I don’t know exactly when.’

  ‘Friday,’ Kathy mused. ‘Well, in the daytime, she should have been at work and if it was evening, Friday’s one of her WVS nights. Are they absolutely sure she’s not gone to a friend’s, maybe even to her brother’s in the country?’

  Ron was shaking his head sadly. ‘Mabel’s been asking all round but no one seems to know anything. And besides,’ he added, ‘she wouldn’t have left old Taffy, would she?’

  The hope in Kathy’s eyes died. ‘No,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘No, she wouldn’t. But they are still digging? They’re still looking?’

  Ron nodded but there was no hope left in his eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, love.’ There was a pause before he asked, ‘Do you want to go home? We can manage for a night or two, though it won’t be the same without you,’ he added hurriedly. ‘The audiences love your songs.’

  ‘I – I don’t know. I mean, do her family know yet?’

  Ron lifted his shoulders. ‘I’ve no idea. I expect the authorities will inform them as soon as – as soon as they have some definite news.’

  ‘When they’ve found her – her body, you mean?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Poor Ted and Betty. And Morry – oh, poor Morry,’ she added, though she didn’t confide in Ron just why her heart went out to Morry.

  ‘Fond of his aunt, was he?’ Ron asked kindly, but Kathy could only nod, her throat too full of tears to speak.

  ‘I didn’t tell you before the show. There’s nothing you could have done. You do understand, Kathy, don’t you?’

  Briefly, a sarcastic retort sprang to her lips, castigating him for having kept the news to himself until the show was over. Oh, nothing must get in the way of ‘the show going on’, must it? she almost said. Instead, she bit back the words. She had seen for herself how their concert party helped others, how it brought a little brightness into the dull lives of those trapped in the daily drudgery of wartime Britain. It even had the power to keep people in their seats all the way through an air raid.

  ‘You were right,’ she said huskily. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to go on if I’d just had that news and it’s what Aunt Jemima—’ she smiled fondly at the thought of her – ‘would have expected me to do.’

  Kathy spent a restless night, and both she and Rosie got up the following morning tired and bleary-eyed. They breakfasted, packed their belongings and stripped the beds they had occupied in the nurses’ dormitory.

  ‘Are you gong home?’ Rosie asked as, lugging their suitcases, they walked towards the bus parked at the rear of the hospital’s main building.

  ‘Yes, I’m going to ask Ron if I can catch a train to Lincoln this morning instead of coming to Leeds with you all. He did say he didn’t mind.’

  They reached the bus and stood with some of the party until everyone else arrived.

  ‘I can’t imagine life without Miss Robinson,’ Kathy murmured. ‘My home was with her and now it’s gone.’

  ‘Have you lost much? Possessions, I mean?’

  Kathy shrugged. ‘Not really. I didn’t have much.’ She didn’t care about material things, but sadly she realized that the people she cared about most in the world, apart from her mother, were being taken away from her one by one. Even though she was surrounded by her friends in the concert party, Kathy still felt very lonely.

  Ron and the rest of the party arrived. ‘Everyone here? Right then, we’d better be off . . .’

  ‘I say, wait a minute. Wait!’

  They all turned to see Brenda running across the car park towards them. ‘Anybody here by the name of “Burton”?’

  ‘Y – yes. Me,’ Kathy stammered.

  ‘Phone call for you,’ the nurse panted. ‘Long distance. In the matron’s office. Come on, I’ll take you.’

  Kathy’s heart leapt in her chest. She dropped her suitcase and ran after Brenda. Inside the matron’s office, she picked up the receiver with shaking hands. Ron had followed her and was standing uncertainly just inside the doorway.

  ‘H – hello?’

  ‘Kathy, my dear, it’s me. I though you might be worried—’

  Tears flooded down Kathy’s face as she spluttered, ‘Oh Aunt Jemima, Aunt Jemima – you’re safe. Thank God!’ She turned to see Ron beaming from ear to ear. ‘She’s safe,’ Kathy cried. ‘She’s safe.’ Ron smiled and lifted his hand in acknowledgement, then disappeared to tell the others of Kathy’s good news.

  ‘Where were you? Are you hurt? Where are you now?’

  ‘I was in the cupboard under the stairs. I’d just got home when the raid started and I could already hear bombs dropping. It was too late to go out again to the nearest communal shelter, so I dived for the cupboard.’

  ‘How long were you there?’ Kathy shouted into the instrument. The line was crackling.
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  ‘Oh, hours, all night and half the next day,’ Jemima said cheerfully. ‘And it’s only thanks to dear old Taffy that they found me. I could hear him miaowing and one of the rescue party told me afterwards that it was because of him they’d kept digging. They were sure he knew I was under there.’

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘A few cuts and bruises, but we’re both safe and we’re at Edward and Betty’s now. I couldn’t ring you before, dear girl. I couldn’t find out where Mabel was to get the telephone number from her. Are you there tonight?’

  ‘No, we’re about to leave to go to Leeds, but I was coming straight home from there.’

  ‘Shouldn’t bother, dear. There’s no home to come to at the moment. Of course you can come here if you like, but there’s no need to if you want to stay with the party.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

  ‘We’re fine. Truly. You carry on. You’re all doing such a fine job.’

  ‘All right, I will then, if you’re really sure?’

  ‘I am,’ were Jemima’s final words as the line went dead. Kathy replaced the receiver and sighed with relief. Ron had come back and was standing just outside the office, waiting for her. ‘Well, are you going or staying now she’s safe?’

  ‘I’m staying,’ Kathy told him with a grin.

  ‘That’s the ticket.’

  There was one piece of news that caught up with Kathy about a week later. They were due to stay in Leeds for a full week. Mabel had given Jemima the address of the theatre so that she could write to Kathy and reassure her that both she and Taffy were now safely at Sandy Furze Farm and that she was not to worry.

  There is one piece of sad news, which I ought to tell you though, my dear. In the same air raid in which you and I lost our home, poor Stella was killed. Although she lived in a village outside the city one or two stray bombs dropped there and their house took a direct hit. Her parents were killed too . . .