A Nightingale Christmas Carol
Page 31
‘I suppose you’re right.’ Dora went to the window and gazed out. Below her, the porters were busy stringing Union Jack flags from one side of the courtyard to the other while Mr Hopkins stood at the foot of the ladder, barking orders. Nurses pushed patients in wheelchairs out in the sunshine, everyone smiling and laughing.
Major Von Mundel came to stand beside her. ‘It seems as if everyone is celebrating,’ he observed.
Dora sent him a sideways glance.
‘What will happen now?’ she asked.
‘I do not know.’ His face was wistful.
‘Will you be going home?’
‘I am not sure I have a home to go to, any more.’ His mouth twisted. ‘But I think perhaps I will be allowed to return to my children next year, or the year after.’
‘Next year? That’s a long time to wait.’
‘I have already waited for many years, Nurse Riley. What are another few months?’
Dora gazed at his profile, the sun falling on the sharp bones of his angular face. It had hurt her enough to be away from her children for a month. She couldn’t imagine being separated from them for so many years.
Helen appeared at the doors with Dora’s suitcase. ‘It is time for you to go, I think,’ Major Von Mundel said.
Panic assailed her. I don’t want to go, she thought. But she hid her feelings behind a carefully neutral expression. ‘Yes,’ she said.
He held out his hand. ‘Auf Wiedersehen, Nurse Riley. Who knows, perhaps our paths will cross again one day?’
‘Auf Wiedersehen, Major Von Mundel.’
He winced. ‘Such a terrible accent!’
Dora laughed. Then, on impulse, she reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek.
The other men whooped and laughed. Major Von Mundel stepped back as if she’d slapped him.
‘Ta ta, Major!’ Dora walked away, and didn’t look back until she reached the door. When she did, Major Von Mundel was still standing in the middle of the ward, his hand pressed to his cheek.
Helen walked down with her to the front doors. ‘Shall I ask Mr Hopkins to call a taxi for you?’ she asked.
Dora laughed. ‘Taxi? Blimey, do you think I’m made of money?’ She shook her head. ‘No thanks, the fresh air will do me good. I need it after being cooped up in that hospital bed for a month.’
Helen handed over her suitcase, being careful to put it in Dora’s good hand.
‘Take care,’ she said. ‘And I’ll see you soon. But not too soon, mind. I don’t want you coming back to work until you’re fully fit.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t!’ Dora called back, waving as she walked away.
On the way home, she took a detour to Griffin Street. As she approached Mrs Price’s house, she saw a Union Jack hanging from the upstairs window. Dora’s heart lifted at the sight of it, proudly fluttering over the flattened street below.
‘I told you I’d do it, didn’t I?’ Mrs Price called out to her, waving from the window. ‘I told you I’d put the flags out in Griffin Street!’
‘So you did, Mrs P. And it looks smashing.’
Mrs Price beamed. ‘Glad to see you up and about, girl. You feeling better?’
‘I am. I’m just on my way home now.’
‘Oh, I won’t keep you, then. But tell your mum I’ll be popping round for a cuppa later, to celebrate.’
‘I will.’
They had been living in Albion Road for two years but Dora had never thought of it as home until she turned the corner and saw the crumbling old terrace, strung with flags. Children played on the cobbled street, chasing each other and knocking down rusty tin cans with a ball.
Dora stood at the end of the street and felt hot tears stinging her eyes. Daft beggar, she thought, wiping her face with her sleeve. What will the neighbours think?
She let herself in the back door and ran up the stairs two at a time. ‘I’m home—’ she called out, then stopped in her tracks when she saw the figure sitting at the kitchen table.
‘Hello, Dora,’ Lily said, looking up from the pan of potatoes she was peeling.
‘Lily?’ Dora wasn’t sure which astonished her more, that her sister-in-law had returned or that she was making herself useful.
Before she could say any more, her mother came in the door behind her with the twins and Mabel. Walter and Winnie immediately launched themselves at her, clamouring for a cuddle. Mabel watched them slyly from the doorway, sucking on a boiled sweet.
‘We’ve just been to get a loaf of bread from the shop,’ Rose said breathlessly. ‘We saw you coming up the street but we couldn’t catch you up. Mind your mum’s arm,’ she warned Walter. ‘She’s still poorly, you know.’
‘I don’t mind.’ Dora hugged her son fiercely. No pain was great enough to stop her holding them. After everything she had been through, she didn’t think she would ever let them go again.
‘Now then, what’s all this noise?’ Nanna Winnie bustled in. ‘Oh, it’s you.’ She looked Dora up and down. ‘I wondered when you’d turn up.’
‘Lovely to see you, too, Nanna,’ Dora grinned.
‘I don’t know,’ Nanna said, lowering herself carefully into her usual rocking chair. ‘This place is like Piccadilly Circus, with all the comings and goings.’ She glared at Lily as she said it.
‘I’ll make some tea, shall I?’ Rose offered. ‘You’d like a nice cuppa, wouldn’t you, Dor?’
‘I’d love one, Mum.’
‘I’ll make it.’ Lily dropped a potato into the pan of water and hurried off to the scullery.
Dora turned to her mother. ‘What’s she doing here?’ she whispered.
‘You might well ask,’ Nanna said darkly.
Rose turned her back so that Mabel couldn’t see her. ‘Hank left her, so she came home.’
‘No!’
‘It’s true,’ Nanna said. ‘She’s got more bloody front than Margate, that one! Can you imagine it? Running off with your fancy man and then crawling back to your husband’s family?’
‘Shh!’ Rose hissed, shooting a quick glance at Mabel. ‘She’ll hear you. She already feels bad enough about it.’
‘And so she should!’ Nanna hissed back.
Dora was still trying to take it all in. ‘What does Bea think about it?’ she asked. Knowing her sister, she could imagine there must have been fisticuffs. She was surprised Lily had any face left.
‘She wasn’t as bad as we thought she’d be,’ Rose said. ‘Oh, they had a blazing row and Bea pulled out a couple of handfuls of her hair, but then she calmed down. Between you and me, I think she’s happy Hank ditched her. And she’s been making sure Lily’s sorry about it.’
‘I can imagine,’ Dora said ruefully.
She took her suitcase into the bedroom and started unpacking. The twins came to help her, bouncing on the bed around her.
‘Stop it, you little monkeys!’ Dora said, but she was too happy to see them to scold them.
Lily slunk in, carrying a teacup. ‘I’ve brought you your tea,’ she said. Her mournful expression was beginning to grate on Dora.
‘Cheer up, for gawd’s sake, Lily! It’s VE day. We’re supposed to be celebrating, ain’t we?’
Lily eyed her warily. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d say about me coming home.’
‘Well, I ain’t going to pull your hair out like Bea, so don’t worry about that.’
Lily put her hand to her scalp. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled.
‘It ain’t me you should be apologising to, is it?’
Lily stared down at the worn rug. ‘You’ve got to understand how I felt,’ she whined. ‘I was lonely and miserable and Hank – took advantage of me.’
‘So it’s his fault, is it?’
‘I didn’t say that, did I? I know what I did was wrong, but like I said, I was lonely. I didn’t know if Pete was ever going to come home or not . . .’
Dora sipped her tea to stop herself saying anything. How did that make a difference? she wondered. She would have waited for Nick until h
er dying day.
‘Anyway, I made a mistake,’ Lily said quietly. She lifted her gaze to meet Dora’s. ‘You won’t tell Peter, will you?’
Dora laughed shortly. ‘You’re having a laugh, ain’t you? You’ll never keep a secret like that in this house. Not with Bea and Nanna around, at any rate. Besides, it’s not fair to lie to him. You’ll have to tell him, Lily. Before he finds out from someone else.’
‘I – I will.’ Lily lowered her eyes demurely.
And he’ll forgive you, Dora thought. You’ll look at him with those big doe eyes of yours and spin him a line about how a smooth-talking GI took advantage of you, and you’ll have him twisted round your little finger in no time.
But then the anger left her. The war had done some strange things to people, made them think and act in ways they might never have imagined. Like poor Arthur Jenkins, for instance.
She looked at Lily’s downcast face. Major Von Mundel was right, she thought. If they didn’t forget about the past, they would have no future.
Chapter Forty-Seven
December 1945
There wasn’t another soul in Victoria Park. The bitter weather and falling snow had kept everyone else away.
It was a shame, Kitty thought, because the park looked so beautiful this winter. The anti-aircraft guns had been taken away, and the barrage balloons no longer loomed ominously overhead. Everything seemed at perfect peace, coated in a thick blanket of white. The bare branches of the trees looked as if they had been lavishly iced.
The snow crunched under her boots as she made her way to the lake where she and Stefan always met. Usually she would be looking forward to turning the corner and seeing him, but today her stomach was a knot of anxiety.
Today might be the last time she ever saw him.
He was waiting for her beside the lake, staring out over the expanse of frozen water. Kitty took one look at his grim profile, and her heart sank.
He turned as she approached, breaking into a smile when he saw her. With his heavy coat over his prison uniform, he looked like any other man waiting for his sweetheart.
Except they weren’t like any other couple. Their meetings were always carefully planned and far too fleeting.
‘Liebling.’ He took her in his arms and kissed her. ‘I wasn’t sure you would come, as it is so cold.’
‘As if I’d let a bit of snow stop me!’
‘It is beautiful, nein?’ He turned his gaze back over the lake. ‘The water has turned to ice. Look at the ducks, marching in a line across it.’
Kitty looked, but her mind was elsewhere. She knew Stefan and some of the other POWs had been summoned to see the men from the government, to discuss what would happen to them.
She stamped her feet and tucked her gloved hands in her pockets. She wanted to ask Stefan and yet at the same time she didn’t want to know, in case it was bad news.
‘It is too cold to stand. We will walk, yes?’ He took her hand. They strolled away from the lake, down towards the bandstand. The grove of poplars stood tall and straight, like sentries, watching over them. There always seemed to be someone watching them, Kitty thought resentfully.
Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. ‘Did you speak to those men? What did they say?’
Stefan let out a heavy sigh. ‘Yes, I spoke to them.’
‘And?’
‘And they asked me all kinds of questions about my political beliefs, and told me if I gave them the right answers I could go home.’
Kitty let out the breath she had been holding in. She should be pleased for him, she told herself. It was what he had always wanted, to be allowed to go home.
And yet she couldn’t help feeling a twist of misery at the thought of never seeing him again.
‘What did you tell them?’
‘I told them that if I was sent back to Serbia I could not promise to behave myself. I told them I thought I might be a grave threat to their country. They made lots of notes and scratched their heads, and in the end they decided I should stay here, where they could keep an eye on me.’
Kitty shot him a sideways look. ‘But I don’t understand. You could have gone home?’
‘Then I wouldn’t be with you,’ he said simply.
‘But it’s what you wanted.’
‘Not any more. I would rather be a prisoner with you than a free man without you, Fraülein.’
Kitty said nothing as they walked, trying to take it in.
‘You are disappointed?’ Stefan frowned at her. ‘You wanted me to go home, perhaps?’
‘No! Oh no, not at all. I’m just – surprised, that’s all.’
‘Surprised that I would give up my freedom for love?’ His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘Believe me, Fraülein, no one is more surprised than I about that! But perhaps in another year or so I will be free. Then I will be able to stay here.’
‘I hope so.’ She squeezed his hand.
They went on walking, past the bandstand and around the fountain, then back to the lake. As they approached the water’s edge, Kitty’s stomach clenched, knowing they would soon have to say goodbye.
She tried not to think about it, as they talked about Christmas. Kitty told him that Arthur was coming home for Christmas, and bringing the girl he was courting.
‘Mum’s in a terrible flap about it. She’s been cleaning and cooking for days. Anyone would think one of the royal princesses was coming to visit.’
‘It must be serious, if he’s bringing her home?’
Kitty looked at him. ‘It isn’t fair,’ she said. ‘I wish I could bring you home for Christmas.’
Stefan shook his head. ‘You know that is not possible, liebling. I am not allowed to visit your house, it is against the camp rules.’
And even if it wasn’t, my father would never allow it, Kitty thought.
They had reached an uneasy truce over the past few months since Kitty had moved home. Her father had learned to accept Stefan’s existence, even if he still winced whenever Kitty said his name. But he wasn’t ready to meet him.
Her mother was a different story. Much to Kitty’s – and her father’s – astonishment, Florrie Jenkins had defied her husband and met Stefan. They had all had tea together in a café, and Florrie was utterly charmed by him.
‘You hold on to him, my girl,’ she had told Kitty afterwards. ‘He’s a good one.’
‘That reminds me,’ she said. ‘Mum’s made you a Christmas cake.’ She took the package out of her bag and handed it to him.
‘Thank you. I’m sure they will appreciate it back at the camp.’
‘And this is from me.’ Kitty shyly handed him another package, wrapped up in brown paper. She’d done her best to make it look festive, drawing Christmas trees all over it. ‘It isn’t much,’ she said, as she watched him unwrapping it. ‘Just some socks and gloves I knitted . . .’
‘They are beautiful, liebling. I will treasure them.’ He reached into his pocket. ‘I also have a gift for you . . .’ He pulled a box out of his pocket. ‘I am sorry I could not wrap it, but perhaps you will not mind.’
‘For me?’ She took the box he handed her. It was an exquisite wooden jewellery box, the lid carved with her name inside a heart. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she breathed.
‘I wish I could tell you I made it, but sadly I am not that skilled,’ Stefan sighed. ‘One of the other prisoners made it for me. But I did make what is inside . . .’
‘There’s something inside?’
‘Open it and see.’
Kitty could feel Stefan watching her eagerly as she opened the lid of the wooden box. Nestling inside was a ring, carefully fashioned from a twist of wire and decorated with a single red bead.
‘I made it from a piece of barbed wire I found.’ He smiled. ‘Something beautiful, from something so ugly. I thought it sounded like us, nein?’
‘Something beautiful from something ugly . . . You’re right, it does sound like us.’ Kitty took off her gloves and went to put on the ring, then hesitated. ‘But wh
ich finger should I wear it on?’
Stefan took the ring from her and placed it gently on her right hand. ‘Here, for now,’ he said. ‘Until I can buy you a proper ring and make you my wife.’
She looked up at him, smiling. ‘Is that a proposal?’
He looked shy. ‘I think it is, Fraülein.’
They walked together to the gate. As they approached the street, Stefan slipped his hand from hers.
‘Well, Fraülein, this is where we must part,’ he said.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Kitty clung to him, desperately trying to memorise the smell of him, the feel of his strong arms around her, his body close to hers. She didn’t know how long it would be before she saw him again, and she needed to soak up as much as she could before she had to let him go.
‘Now, Fraülein.’ Stefan gently disentangled her arms from around his waist, his expression mock severe. ‘We will see each other soon.’
‘Will we? Every time we say goodbye, I’m so afraid it will be the last time I see you.’
‘You know I will always find my way back to you, Fraülein.’ He lifted her right hand to his lips and kissed her gloved hand over the barbed wire ring. ‘Every time you feel afraid, you must look at this and remember you do not have long to wait.’
He leaned over and planted another light kiss on her lips. ‘Eines tages, liebling. One day.’
She nodded, biting back her tears. ‘One day.’
Outside the park, life went on. As Kitty trudged home through the snow, she couldn’t help noticing all the other couples, walking hand in hand or with their arms round each other. Laughing, enjoying being in love, and not caring who saw them. She felt a stab of jealousy, wishing it could be like that for her and Stefan.
Eines tages. One day.
She took off her gloves and slipped the ring from her right hand to the third finger of her left.
She would wait. For as long as it took.
Chapter Forty-Eight
‘Stand still, for gawd’s sake. I’ll never get this hem straight if you keep fidgeting about!’ Dora muttered through a mouthful of pins.