Cousins at War

by Doris Davidson

  ‘I wanted to know how badly you were hurt, so I cycled after the ambulance, and I’m only allowed to stay a minute . . . would it be OK if I come back when you’re fit for visitors?’

  ‘I’d like that, but don’t feel obliged to come.’

  ‘I want to.’

  As soon as Freda went out, Neil closed his eyes. The allotted minute had been long enough for him but he was grateful to her for waiting. He was sure she wasn’t one of those girls who were just out for what they could get but he hoped that she hadn’t felt sorry for him, or responsible for him because she had been first on the scene of his accident. He had vowed never to get attached to any girl after Queenie but he wouldn’t complain if Freda wanted to be more than a friend.

  Gracie hadn’t even reached the end of Neil’s latest letter when she looked up in alarm. ‘He’s had an accident on a motor bike,’ she told Joe. ‘Only a broken leg and scratches on his face, he says, but maybe he’s just saying that to save me worrying.’

  ‘If he’s able to write, he can’t be that bad,’ Joe pointed out, quite reasonably.

  ‘But he’ll have nobody to visit him, away down there.’

  ‘He’s got pals, and he’ll be enjoying the attention he’ll get from all the young nurses.’

  Neither of them noticed how Queenie had reacted. Her face had blanched at the mention of his accident, her fingers plucked at the tablecloth in agitation. Joe glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and jumped up. ‘I never noticed the time, I should be away.’ He turned as he went out. ‘Don’t worry, Gracie, lass. A broken leg’ll soon mend.’

  Gracie looked across at her niece. ‘What d’you think? Is Neil telling me everything?’

  Queenie stood up. ‘I hope so. I’ll have to hurry too.’

  As she ran down the stairs, she wished that she could go to see Neil, to find out how he was, but he would likely refuse to see her, if the way he’d treated her last time he was home was anything to go by. He could be dying for all she knew, and she would never find out what had gone wrong between them . . . but he had written to his mother, so he couldn’t be dying. The thought did comfort her a little, but she realised that he might still be badly injured and it would be a long time before he was fit enough to come home again.

  When a letter from Olive arrived, Neil was tempted not to open it, but curiosity got the better of him.

  2 July, 1942

  Dear Neil,

  I have just heard about your smash and I hope you are feeling better. It must be awful to be lying in hospital in this lovely weather and I wish I could be there to cheer you up. The only thing I can do is to write to you more often so expect a daily visit from the postie. Your mother said your leg was broken and that you just had a few scratches on your face, but I know they wouldn’t keep you in very long with just a broken leg. I’m an embryo doctor, remember, so you can tell me, and I promise not to let it go any further. I expect they will let you come home as soon as you can walk but you won’t be fit for dancing for a while. Ho, hum, there’s always the pictures.

  How did your accident happen? I know you were on a motor bike, but did something run into you, or was it vice versa? Your mother said that the girl who found you has been visiting you every day. Watch yourself there, Neil. You’re still recovering from shock and it would be easy to get stupid ideas in your head. Don’t take long to answer this, because I’m anxious to hear how you are.

  Regards, Olive.

  She was quite goodhearted in her own way, Neil thought, laying the letter down at his side and stretching across to his locker for his writing pad and pen. She had certainly changed for the better lately. There was nothing out of place in what she had written and she was bound to be curious about his health when she was studying medicine. She had likely sent her last letter with the best of intentions, for she couldn’t have had any idea of how he felt about Queenie at the time.

  Dear Olive,

  Thanks for your welcome letter. Don’t tell my mother, but my right leg was broken in three places and my left leg had an ordinary, straightforward break. I’d some scratches and cuts on my face but I’ll only be left with little marks, so I’ll still be as handsome as ever, says me. Like you said, I won’t be doing any dancing for a while but it’s not the end of the world, is it?

  By the way, Freda’s a really nice girl, so I won’t need to watch myself like you warned me. I’ll stop now, for I’m still a bit weak and I get easily tired.

  As always, Neil

  He addressed an envelope, then read the letter over and added a postscript. ‘I bet you’ll be surprised at getting a letter from me by return.’

  Long before the afternoon visiting time, his eyes were drawn to the door of the ward and the stream of nurses scuttling in and out with bedpans had his spirits leaping and sinking like the scenic railway at Aberdeen, and just as he thought that he would have a heart attack from the strain of waiting, a sister fixed the doors back to let the visitors in. Luckily for Neil’s heart, Freda was one of the first to enter and as she sat down at his bedside, she lifted the letter he had written. ‘Do you want me to post this for you?’ She gave it a quick glance, then asked, ‘Is it to your girlfriend?’

  ‘Olive’s my cousin,’ he answered, a little stiffly.

  Taken aback at his tone, she said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosey.’

  He stretched out his hand to her. ‘No, I’m sorry. It was just . . . I didn’t want you to think I’d a girlfriend.’ Noticing that she seemed happier at that, he relaxed, but wished he’d the courage to tell her that he wouldn’t mind having her as his girlfriend. It was too soon for that, in any case, so it was as well to keep their relationship light.

  Neil’s next letter eased his mother’s mind – and his cousin’s – about his wellbeing but raised other doubts. ‘He’s going on about a girl now,’ Gracie told Joe, in some concern. ‘Listen to this. “Freda visits me every day. She’s the girl who found me after the accident. She even cycled to the hospital behind the ambulance and waited till I was out of the anaesthetic so she could come in and see if I was all right.” What do you make of that?’ she appealed.

  ‘Is that all?’ Joe smiled. ‘I don’t know what you’re getting all worked up for. She likely feels a bit responsible for him and she just goes to make sure he’s recovering.’

  ‘You can’t see past the end of your nose!’ Gracie declared, a little annoyed at him for making light of her worry. She turned to Queenie now, ‘I bet she’s after him.’ Her niece’s woebegone expression made her wish that she had held her tongue.

  ‘He’ll be glad of her visits,’ the girl said forlornly.

  ‘Aye, like enough, and I’ll read the rest out to you, for he doesn’t say any more about her. “I’ll likely be here for a few weeks yet but don’t worry. My leg’s mending nicely, the doctors say, and I’ll just be left with a wee mark on my nose. It could have been an awful lot worse. I hope you and Dad are keeping well, and not working too hard. Love, Neil.” He sounds cheery enough.’ Gracie glanced at Queenie again and was pleased that her colour was returning though she was still a bit pale.

  Queenie felt hurt that Neil hadn’t even mentioned her in his letter, and wondered if Gracie had been right in thinking that Freda was after him, but probably not. It was natural for her to visit him, when she had seen the state he must have been in after the accident. Any decent girl would do the same and it would stop after he got out of hospital.

  With his nervous system not fully recovered from the accident, Neil was ripe for overresponding to any sort of kindness and Freda’s daily visits had come to mean a great deal to him. She was completely different from either of his cousins – not full of arrogant self-confidence like Olive nor bubbling with life like Queenie – but her quiet, almost shy, manner was as balm to his buffeted spirits and he sang her praises to Alf Melville every time he went to the hospital.

  ‘I think I can smell love in the air,’ Alf smirked one day, about six weeks after the accident.


  ‘Nothing of the kind,’ Neil blustered then gave a chuckle. ‘Maybe you’re right. I think I love her, but I don’t know how she feels about me.’

  Having met the girl on several occasions, Alf’s grin widened. ‘She’s bats about you. I’ve never seen a more sickening case of love with the lid on and that goes for you, as well. Put her out of her misery, Neil, lad, before I’ve to knock your stupid heads together.’

  Lying back after his friend went out, Neil concluded that he didn’t just think, he was so deeply in love with Freda that he couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing her again after he got out of hospital. He would have to find out if Alf’s assessment of her was true, that she was ‘bats about him’. He would have to risk being rebuffed, but he couldn’t go on without knowing one way or the other.

  ‘Did you have Alf in last night?’

  Neil was too keyed-up to make small talk. ‘Freda,’ he burst out loudly, oblivious to everyone around them, ‘I love you, and I want to know if you love me.’

  ‘Ssh!’ Her cheeks pink, she looked around to see if any of the people making their way to other beds had heard but it was the patient in the bed next to Neil who said, ‘Go on, then, do you love him? I can’t bear this suspense.’

  Scarlet now, she nodded shyly and Neil’s triumphant yell was followed by his neighbour’s sigh. ‘Thank God. Maybe now we’ll all get some peace.’

  ‘I’m so embarrassed,’ Freda whispered.

  He grabbed her hand. ‘I’m not. I’m so happy I could shout it from the rooftops.’

  ‘You nearly did.’

  ‘I suppose I can’t kiss you in here?’

  ‘I should think not. You’ve made a big enough exhibition of us already.’

  She sounded so serious that he said, ‘Are you angry with me?’

  ‘Not really. It was just so unexpected but I’m glad we got it sorted out. We could have gone on and on without knowing.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’

  They held hands until it was time for her to leave. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she smiled, as she stood up, then leaned forward and kissed his brow. ‘Will that do, darling?’

  ‘It’ll do to be going on with.’ He watched her walking away, and returned the wave she gave him before she turned into the corridor, then he lay back, smiling contentedly. She had called him ‘darling’! He had never felt like this before, never in his entire life. It was true that every cloud had a silver lining. If he hadn’t smashed himself up, he would never have met Freda.

  Chapter Fourteen

  From what Gracie could gather from Neil’s letters now, he had fallen head over heels in love. ‘It’s Freda this, Freda that, in every one,’ she wailed to her husband one night. ‘If there was ever anything between him and Queenie, there’s nothing on his side now, and that’s a mixed blessing, for I can’t help feeling sorry for her and I’m none too happy about him being so serious about this other girl. He’s not even twenty yet.’

  Joe heaved a great sigh, ‘Ach, Gracie, you’ll find things to worry about when you get to heaven. I hope I go first, so I can warn St Peter not to pay any attention to you.’

  Somewhat offended, she snapped, ‘And you never worry about a thing, though this Freda’s maybe not the kind of lassie you’d want your son to get involved with.’

  ‘If he wants to get involved with her, it wouldn’t matter how much we worried. It’s his life, so let him get on with it.’

  Freda’s name cropped up in Neil’s letters too often for Olive’s peace of mind. After putting Queenie out of the running, it was galling to think that competition was cropping up from another direction and she couldn’t ask him anything in a letter. She’d have to wait until he came home and if he really was in love with this girl, he wouldn’t be able to hide it. Then she would have to put her thinking cap on. It would be more difficult to deal with a rival who was so far away, but she would have to do something.

  When Neil wrote to say that he would be home in a week, Gracie felt the need of advice and her husband was the only one she could ask, ‘I haven’t said anything to Queenie about him being in love, but should I tell her, to warn her, or will I leave it till we see what he says himself?’

  After giving it some consideration, Joe said, ‘I think you’d be best to leave it. I know you’re concerned for her, but we can’t interfere. Anyway, you’re maybe imagining things.’

  Neil didn’t look as bad as Queenie had expected. He was still a bit pale, but that was only natural, and he was walking with a stick, though he told his mother that he didn’t really need it. There was a nasty puckered mark on his cheek and a deep scar on his nose, but that was all.

  ‘So the wounded warrior’s returned?’ Joe was saying. ‘I hope you realise you gave your mother an awful fright?’

  ‘I got quite a fright myself,’ Neil smiled.

  ‘Well, I hope it’ll learn you to be careful on the road. How did it happen, your smash up?’

  Neil grinned. ‘I’d an argument with an oil drum. It must have fallen off some lorry, and I didn’t see it. If I hadn’t been in hospital, I’d have been on a charge for wrecking the bike.’

  ‘You’ll maybe be put on a charge when you go back.’

  ‘The adjutant says they’ll overlook it this time.’

  ‘Good.’ Gracie pushed him into a chair. ‘Your breakfast’s in the oven – I’ll just take it out.’

  Neil turned to Queenie, ‘I believe I’ve to congratulate you on passing all your exams?’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll be starting university in October.’ She wondered if he could hear her heart thumping, it was going mad . . . just because he had spoken to her again.

  ‘I always knew you were just as clever as Olive.’ He did not notice the shadow that crossed her face and picked up his fork and knife to tackle the heaped plate his mother set down. ‘No Palais for me this time, but what about going to the pictures with me tomorrow night?’

  Gracie raised her eyebrows and shot a worried glance at Joe, but Queenie said, trying not to appear too eager, ‘Yes, thanks, I’d like that.’

  As usual, Joe had to leave to open the shop at eight and as Queenie helped Gracie with the dishes, Neil said, ‘I think I’ll lie down for a while.’

  ‘Off you go, then.’ His mother could see that he was tired.

  Nothing was said for a minute or two, then Queenie observed, self-consciously, ‘He’s looking quite well, considering.’

  Gracie nodded. ‘He could do with feeding up a bit, but he’s a lot better than I thought he’d be. You know . . . I thought the two of you had quarrelled last time, but . . .’

  ‘We didn’t quarrel. I don’t know why he was like that but I’m glad he’s got over it.’

  For the rest of the day, Queenie tried to imagine what Neil might say to her when he took her out. Would he apologise and tell her why he’d behaved in that awful way? Perhaps he would kiss her as if it had never happened? She would be quite happy with that, and happier still if he told her that he loved her, then she could tell him how much she loved him. She went to bed that night with a song in her heart.

  It was very wet the next morning but Neil said that he would go out anyway. ‘I’ll go and have a yarn with the lads I used to work with. Some of them will still be there, the older men, at any rate, and I’ll carry on to Hetty’s in the afternoon. I’ll be back for tea, in plenty of time for the pictures,’ he added, smiling at Queenie.

  She pottered around all day, helping with the housework, but her mind was on Neil. Olive was on holiday too and he would see her when he went to Rubislaw Den. Would he ask her out as well? It was more than likely, Queenie thought sadly. She was positive that he didn’t like Olive but she didn’t trust the girl. She would try every trick she knew to get Neil and she would double her efforts if she found out about tonight.

  ‘Isn’t it about time you started getting dressed?’ Gracie had been taking her washing in from the drying green – the rain had gone off just before lunch – and her niece’s pensive, dej
ected expression disquieted her even more than the renewed hope that had been on her face when Neil gave his invitation. ‘You’d best be ready before teatime, so you can get out early.’

  When Neil came back, he said, ‘That dress suits you, Queenie. It picks up the colour of your eyes.’

  She was embarrassed, but delighted. ‘I made it myself.’

  Gracie beamed. ‘She’s good with her hands, and it was a bit of material I’ve had lying for a long time. She’ll make a good wife to some lucky man some day.’

  The girl flushed, but Neil laughed, ‘Don’t forget to send me an invitation to the wedding, Queenie.’

  It was as if her legs had been shot out from under her and she sat down abruptly. He couldn’t love her, not when he said a thing like that. She had been living in a fool’s paradise, like Olive had told her once . . . unless . . . he hadn’t wanted his mother to know how he felt? Not yet, when he hadn’t told her, Queenie? But he would tell her . . . tonight!

  The rain had been spitting again when they left to go to the Capitol Cinema, but the pavements were dry when they came out. Queenie had been disappointed that Neil hadn’t taken her hand while they were watching the film but her stomach was churning with anticipation as they walked home. He wouldn’t tell her in the street, he would wait till nobody could see them when they went into the lobby of the tenement. ‘Does your leg bother you much?’ she asked, to take her mind off the joy to come.

  ‘It’s a bit stiff after sitting so long without being able to stretch it,’ he admitted.

  ‘I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt.’

  ‘So am I.’ He laughed for a moment, then looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. ‘Queenie, I’m sorry I was so nasty to you last time.’

  ‘It’s all right, though I did wonder why . . .’

  ‘It’s not all right. What you do is no business of mine.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She felt a prickle of apprehension now.