by Anne Bennett
‘Tony, run,’ she pleaded huskily, but he was doubled over, choking as he fought for air and seemed incapable of doing anything. Desperately she groped for his hand, intending to drag them both up the steps. But it was too late. She felt a burning in her lungs and then blackness suddenly surrounded her and she fell into a heap on the floor of the cellar.
Outside, Sarah, though desperately worried about her mother and brother, and frightened by the bombs still cascading around them, had her hands full trying to prevent her sisters from going back into the house. They were shouting and screaming at her, and trying to push her restraining hands away. She didn’t know what to do; none of them did.
She was incredibly relieved to see an ARP warden walking towards them, alerted by the noise the twins were making.
‘What’s up?’
‘My mother and brother are inside,’ Sarah cried in panic. ‘We smelled gas.’
Events moved swiftly after that, and when the stretchers with the unconscious forms of Marion and Tony were brought out of the cellar there was an agonising wait for an ambulance. It was probably five minutes or less but it seemed longer as the family stood in the street in the middle of the air raid.
The bell of the ambulance had never been such a welcoming sound, and when the stretchers had been gently placed inside, the driver said, ‘One of you had better come with us. We’ll make for the General Hospital as it’s closest, but we could be directed anywhere.’
Sarah wasn’t sure where her duty lay – to go with her mother and brother or care for her sisters – and Peggy, seeing her dilemma, said, ‘You go with Marion and Tony, Sarah. We’ll take care of the girls, don’t worry. I think our first priority is taking shelter somewhere.’
Sarah nodded dumbly and watched them all being shepherded away by a warden while she climbed into the ambulance and the doors shut behind her.
Many fires made it nearly as bright as day, and as the ambulance moved through the streets, Sarah could plainly see the black arrows of death shrieking down from the droning planes. The never ending rattle of the guns seemed to make no impression on them. She heard shouts and screams and cries, heard the ringing bells of the emergency services, saw buildings exploding in clouds of dust, or crumple with a shuddering thud, and the ambulance driver trying to negotiate potholes, buckled tramlines and piles of masonry and debris spilled into the roads.
When they reached the General Hospital, it was to find that it had been bombed too and parts of it were extensively damaged. Doctors and nurses, as well as patients, had been killed or badly injured, and some were still trapped. The ambulance was directed to Lewis’s, a big department store close by, where the cellar had been offered for the injured. An acrid smell hit Sarah’s nose and lodged in the back of her throat as soon as she entered the building. As she watched the ambulance men carry the stretchers down the wide staircase, she noted each side of it was crammed with blood-stained clothing.
She had been told to remain where she was, but she leaned forward to look down and saw the stretchers almost covering the floor. Many of the faces were a reddy brown colour from the brick dust, and most patients were obviously badly injured. She noted the doctors and nurses moving amongst the stretchers, stopping now and then to minister to a patient. There were so few of them, though, to deal with so many people, and they had so few facilities that any medical attention would have to be minimal. Sarah trembled in fear; her mother and Tony had both been incredibly still since they had been lifted out of the cellar.
She wasn’t aware how long she had been there when her Aunt Polly joined her. ‘Peggy and Violet took the twins to Atkinson’s Brewery, knowing they’d find me there,’ she said in explanation. ‘They were trying to find Richard and alert Mammy and Daddy when I left. I came here to support you.’
‘Oh, I’m so glad you did,’ Sarah said earnestly. ‘I’m so frightened, Aunt Polly.’
‘I know, pet,’ Polly said. ‘It would be hard for you to feel any other way. I suppose there is no news?’
Sarah shook her head.
‘So what actually happened?’ Polly asked.
‘We smelled gas and Mom told us to get out quick,’ Sarah said. ‘And we did. Least, I thought Mom was behind us. I don’t know what made her go back down to the cellar. Tony must have followed her because she was lying on the cellar floor and Tony was at the bottom of the steps. That’s what the ambulance men said, anyroad.’
‘But they got them out real quick?’
‘Yeah,’ said Sarah. ‘But was it quick enough? That stuff is terribly poisonous.’
There was no answer to that, and the words hung in the air.
Richard had arrived before they saw a white coated doctor coming up the steps towards them. Sarah noted his grave eyes and the black bags beneath them.
‘Whittaker?’ he said questioningly and Richard stepped forward.
‘I am Richard Whittaker.’
‘I am very much afraid that we have been unable to save your brother,’ the doctor said. ‘He had inhaled too much gas.’
Richard’s stomach gave a lurch and behind him he heard his aunt gasp and begin to cry. ‘Dead?’ Sarah burst out. ‘Tony is dead?’
‘It was too late. I am so very sorry,’ the doctor said.
Richard’s head was reeling, his mind shouting a denial. ‘And my mother?’
‘She is holding her own at the moment.’
‘Can we see her?’
‘There would be no point. She’s still unconscious,’ the doctor said. ‘Come back later today. We will likely know more then anyway. You can see how we are placed at the moment.’
They could, of course, and numb with shock they made their way outside. It was full daylight now and though the all clear had sounded they were hardly aware of it and as they made their way up Corporation Street they saw devastation all around them. They smelled the smoke still swirling in the air from the many fires that were raging all around the city and saw the mangled and crushed remains of what had once been shops and offices.
They were almost too shocked to talk. They each had their own memory of Tony, and Richard in particular felt ashamed of the number of times he had lost patience with his young brother. He was so young to lose his life, and Richard felt as if he had a sharp ache in his heart.
‘I can only imagine Marion’s pain when she knows of this,’ Polly said brokenly.
If she survives. Sarah didn’t say the words but they hammered inside her head and she knew that though she was heartbroken over Tony’s death, she would be lost altogether without her mother.
From Victoria Road they looked over a sea of rubble. Here and there piles were still smouldering, sending curls of grey smoke into the air. Many others had people scrambling over them, moving bricks and charred and fractured roof beams to see if there was anything worth salvaging from the mounds that had once been their homes. Richard, Sarah and Polly clambered over fallen masonry, often hearing glass splinter under their feet, and tried to avoid curling hoses still dribbling into the gutters, and sodden burst sandbags bleeding onto the pavements. Yet their feet dragged for they didn’t want to take such bad news to those at home.
Marion’s life hung in the balance for some days. She didn’t regain consciousness until Easter Sunday morning. The doctor had worried that there might be brain damage, so as soon as the hovering nurse noticed movement she went over to her. ‘Mrs Whittaker,’ she said with a wide smile wreathing her face, Tm so glad you are back with us.’
Marion had a terrific pain in her chest and her throat was so swollen it hurt her to swallow. She had no earthly idea where she was. She opened her mouth to ask the nurse but all that came out was a croak and the nurse brought her a glass of water, lifting her and supporting her while she drank it. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘I expect you want to know where you are. You’re in Lewis’s basement. The General Hospital was bombed and you had to be brought here. What can you remember?’
Marion cast her mind back and, in a voice still husky from the e
ffects of the gas, she said, ‘There was a raid, and Magda smelled gas, and I had to go back to the cellar to turn off the paraffin stove. Tony, my son, followed me. How is he?’
The nurse had thought she would become inured to death, as she had been a nurse since 1938, but she’d never been able to come to terms with the death of a child and so she felt extremely sorry for Marion. She bent her head and busied herself tucking Marion in as she said, ‘Doctor will explain everything to you.’
‘So when can I see him?’
‘I’ll see if he’s free now, if you like?’
‘Please. I would be most grateful.’
‘Your parents are here too.’
‘My parents?’
‘Well, your father has been here hours and now your mother has joined him,’ the nurse said. ‘In fact, someone has been here all the time you were unconscious. You seem to have a very loving and supportive family.’
‘I have,’ Marion said simply. ‘And I know it.’
The nurse was glad that Marion had that support because her grief when the doctor told of the death of her son was so profound and deep it was painful to witness. Marion was filled with anguish and despair. Tears streamed from her eyes in a torrent and sobs shook her body as she remembered with shame every occasion she had shouted at Tony, or sent him to bed without his tea, or even beat him with the hairbrush.
And then she felt strong arms around her and her father was saying, ‘Oh, my darling girl …’
‘Daddy, oh, Daddy,’ Marion cried, clutching at him, glad of the solid bulk of him. ‘I can’t bear it, Daddy.’
‘You can, Marion,’ her father said firmly. ‘The others need you and you will not be on your own. Aren’t we all heartsore about the poor boy’s death?’
‘I didn’t know it would hurt this much,’ Marion cried. ‘I never thought anything could hurt this much.’
‘No, and maybe you will have a better understanding of the agony I have suffered over the years,’ Clara said, appearing on Marion’s other side. ‘But in your case your son’s death could have been prevented, if you had heeded my warning about those gas pipes.’
‘Clara!’ Eddie gasped, shocked to the core. ‘How can you say such a thing?’
‘Because it’s true,’ Clara said, and added almost gleefully, ‘and if Marion examines her conscience she will know I’m right.’
‘You are going home,’ Eddie said unusually firmly to his wife, ‘where you can cause no further mischief and upset.’ He took his daughter’s hand and looked into her eyes, which were like pools of sadness in her head. ‘You take no heed of this. Tony’s death is not your fault.’
Marion, though, was racked with guilt. She’d known what Tony was like. Why hadn’t she made sure that he was safe on the pavement before going to turn off the stove? Whichever way she looked at it, she had led that young boy, her own son, to his death, and she wondered if she was ever going to forgive herself.
Polly, who came to see her with Pat later, would have none of it when Marion told them of her parent’s visit.
‘I was afraid of an explosion,’ Marion said. Tm disgusted with myself. I was putting the love of my house over the safety of my son.’
‘But, Marion, it wouldn’t just have been the house, would it?’ Pat said. ‘If it had exploded it would have killed, or at least badly injured, the kids outside. What you did saved the rest of them. Yours wasn’t the only gas pipe fractured that night, you know. The whole area has been evacuated until they can repair the pipes and they must make sure any build up of gas has dispersed before they’ll allow you back. The others are camping out in a school hall on the Lozell’s Road for now. No, Marion, Tony’s death was an accident. It was tragic, and there’ll probably not be a day when we won’t miss him and wish he was still here, but if anyone was responsible it was the German bombers.’
‘Do you really think that?’
‘I know that,’ Pat said firmly. He thought for a fleeting moment of Bill, out in God alone knew where, unaware of the grievous blow his family had been dealt. He remembered the day they had enlisted, when he said it would tear the heart out of him to lose just one son, and Pat’s heart burned for him. ‘Bill needs to know,’ he said to Marion. ‘I could write to him, if you would like me to.’
‘Would you, Pat?’ Marion said gratefully and her eyes filled with tears again. ‘He will be so upset and there’ll be no one near him to give him any support.’
Pat knew no support in the world would lessen this blow for Bill, but he didn’t share that with Marion; he just told her to get well and strong again, for all the family was pining for her.
Marion saw that herself when her older children came to see her, their eyes red-rimmed in their ravaged white faces. They seemed shrouded in misery. Peggy and Violet, who also came, were little better, and yet the hospital wouldn’t think about discharging Marion until she could go back in her own house, which didn’t happen until Thursday.
She arrived in the afternoon to a house cleaned from top to bottom by Polly and Sarah, who had taken time off from work.
Later that day Marion said, ‘You know what tortures me, Polly?’
‘What?’
‘D’you think Tony knew I loved him?’
‘Of course he did.’
‘He might not have done,’ Marion said, and her eyes were sombre. ‘I mean, I never said I did.’
‘Well, it ain’t summat you have to say, is it?’ Polly said. ‘They just know, don’t they?’
‘I don’t know,’ Marion said helplessly. ‘Our mam didn’t love us, did she?’
‘Our mam was one on her own.’
‘Yeah, but was she, though?’ Marion said. ‘When I think back all I ever seemed to do was tell Tony off. It was just that I was worried that he’d go to the bad. I mean, he got up to some pranks.’
‘Yeah, him and Jack together.’
‘Thick as thieves, they were, and that’s what I thought they were turning into when they stole that coal. I was frightened to death then and yet I never laid a hand on him that time. He reduced me to tears and it shocked him to bits to see me so upset. I knew he’d never do anything like that again.’
‘Yes, because he cared about your good opinion of him,’ Polly said confidently, ‘because he loved you and knew that you loved him. Believe me, Marion, you never told Tony off unless he deserved it, and he would know that too.’
‘I did love him, you see,’ Marion said. ‘I loved him desperately, like I do all of them. I wish I could have told him just the once. It’s awful if you don’t feel loved by your mother.’
‘You’re thinking of our mam again and how she behaved,’ Polly said. ‘And you can never compare yourself with her. Her love shrivelled up when she lost Michael, and she had none left for anyone else. Your love was freely given to all your children and they’re all a credit to you – and I include Tony in that, God rest his soul.’
‘D’you know, I have been wondering why he followed me down that cellar,’ Marion said. ‘And I think it was because Richard had told him that he’d be man of the house when he enlisted.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Tony was very impressed by that and that night I think he was sort of looking out for me.’
‘See, what did I tell you?’
‘Oh, Polly, you are good for me.’
‘We’ll always have each other, you know that,’ Polly said, her voice thick with emotion, ‘and I’ll be right beside you at the funeral tomorrow.’
TWENTY
The following morning Polly and her daughters carried armloads of food from their house to Marion’s, for the funeral guests. ‘People were good when they knew it was for Tony’s funeral, and gave up some of their rations. And it’s amazing what could be found under many a grocer or butcher’s counter when they knew what it was for,’ Polly said, when Marion asked where all the food had come from.
‘But you and the girls must have worked your fingers to the bone to do all this, and Pat has arranged the funeral and everything. I feel quite useless,
’ Marion said.
‘Marion, you are not long out of hospital and you were injured yourself, don’t forget,’ Polly said. ‘The funeral itself will be enough of an ordeal, believe me.’
It was an ordeal for them all. Marion looked at all the white faces and knew they were suffering in their own way as they walked together in a sombre group to church. Richard took his mother’s arm and Sarah, Peggy and Violet took charge of the twins. Marion was surprised, though pleased, by the numbers that came. Neighbours and friends, Catholic and non-Catholic, nearly filled the church, along with Tony’s classmates and his teacher and the headmaster.
It was the first time that Marion had seen Jack since the tragedy and she was shocked at his appearance. It was as if the lifeblood had been squeezed from him and his dark eyes, usually alight with devilment of one kind or another, looked huge in his gaunt face. At the Requiem Mass Father McIntyre described Tony as full of life with a highly developed sense of fun, and Marion was very glad he didn’t go into details and recount the tale of him and Jack snaffling the Communion wine. But the priest’s words stirred memories for the twins, and they wept for their brother. Jack, who had never been known to cry about anything, also sobbed for the cousin he would never see again.
Richard, fearing his mother might give way herself with such an open show of distress from the children, squeezed her arm in a gesture of support. She smiled at him sadly but she was able to swallow the lump threatening to choke her and blink away the tears prickling in her eyes, because she knew that if she began to cry now she would be unable to stop.
At the cemetery, after Jack had dropped the clod of earth on top of Tony’s coffin, he sidled up to Marion and said, ‘I’m real sorry about Tony, Aunt Marion.’
Marion looked down at the woebegone child and wondered why she had ever had such an active dislike of him. ‘I know you are, Jack,’ she said gently.
