by Pam Weaver
‘East Grinstead,’ Eva mused. ‘That’s where they nursed badly burned airmen during the war.’
‘The Guinea Pig Club,’ said Connie. She had seen the story in the Tit-Bits magazine, how a young New Zealand surgeon had pioneered skin graft operations on young men who had escaped from burning bombers and Spitfires. ‘I wonder if that means Kenneth was in the RAF during the war?’
‘You’ll go, of course,’ said Eva.
Connie stared down at the words again. ‘I want to but I’m forbidden even to speak his name.’
‘Good Lord!’ cried Eva. ‘What on earth did he do?’
‘It didn’t seem so dreadful at the time,’ said Connie, ‘but Ga insists no one is to mention his name.’
‘The more I hear about your great aunt,’ said Eva, ‘the worse she sounds. She must be a real tartar.’
Connie sighed. ‘It’s never really bothered me before. When you grow up with someone, you sort of accept that that’s the way things are but I know she’ll go loopy if she finds out.’
‘So what happened?’ Eva persisted.
‘He let someone into the house and I was attacked,’ said Connie cautiously. She still wasn’t comfortable talking about it.
‘Blimey,’ said Eva. ‘Were the police involved?’
‘It was all hushed up,’ said Connie.
Eva shook her head. ‘But you can’t hold grudges forever, can you? Your brother wasn’t very old, was he? I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose.’
Connie hesitated. Eva was right. Kenneth couldn’t have done it on purpose. He was little more than a child himself when it happened. Somehow, the fact that he’d always been her big brother had made her forget that.
‘Are you going to see him?’
‘Too right I am,’ said Connie, suddenly finding courage. ‘He’s my brother.’
There was a sharp knock on the door. ‘There’s someone downstairs wants to see you,’ said a timid voice when Eva opened the door.
‘Send them up then,’ said Eva.
The girl looked this way and that before whispering conspiratorially, ‘I can’t. It’s a man.’
Eva pulled a face at Connie. ‘I won’t be a minute. Help yourself to another cherry brandy if you want.’ The door closed softly as she left.
Connie didn’t want any more brandy so she read the letter again instead. It was wonderful and worrying at the same time. Wonderful to know Kenneth was alive and where he was but worrying that he might be horribly injured. Mum would be pleased to have news of him … or would she? He had been such a handsome young man. How would Mum feel if he was permanently disfigured?
She thought back to that last day, the day Kenneth left home. She had blanked it out for so many years now that it was hard to think about it again. She remembered afterwards and the point when her head had finally stopped spinning and she was in her bed with a clean nightdress on. Ga was by her bedside sponging her hot forehead with a cold flannel.
She remembered that she’d moaned a little and Ga had said, ‘How do you feel?’
‘Awful. I want to die.’
Then Ga had said something really odd. ‘Good. Constance, I want you never to forget how you feel right now.’
And that’s exactly what she’d done. She had never forgotten that her mouth felt like gravel and her tongue seemed far too big. She remembered that her head was pounding and her stomach felt as if someone had hit it with a fence panel. She could recall that the light in the room was subdued and yet it was too strong for her eyes. She could also remember Ga lifting her head as she took a sip of water from the glass she was holding. It was one of the very few intimate moments she’d ever had with Ga.
Eva bounced back into the room. ‘You’ll never guess what?’ she cried. Her eyes were alive with excitement. ‘This is so weird. My brother is downstairs. He’s offering to take both of us out for a meal.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Connie. ‘You’ll want to be alone, to talk.’
‘Come on,’ said Eva, taking her uniform off. ‘It’ll be fun. You’ll like him. He’s very dashing.’
‘Is he the bomb disposal man?’
‘The very same,’ said Eva. She was standing in her petticoat as she went through her wardrobe looking for something to wear. ‘I didn’t realise that he was the one they sent for when that bomb went off.’
Connie shook her head. ‘I need to be on my own for a bit. I need to do some thinking.’
‘Rubbish,’ said Eva pulling on her high heels. She pulled Connie to her feet and pushed her towards the door. ‘You’ll only brood and get depressed. Go. Get changed. I’ll call for you in ten minutes.’
Connie walked down the corridor to her own room with mixed feelings. Eva was probably right. She would have brooded and made herself feel miserable about Kenneth, but she wasn’t sure she wanted a jolly night out either. When she got to her room, Connie picked up the picture of Kenneth on her locker and stared at his face. She put her finger to her lips, kissed it and then placed it over her brother’s cheek. Brushing away a tear, she opened her wardrobe and surveyed the contents. She had nothing to wear. Even her uniform looked better than some of the stuff hanging there. She opened Betty’s wardrobe. Most of her things looked as dull as Connie’s, except for one dress. It was a brightly coloured paisley dress in pinks and purple with a sweetheart neckline. Connie pulled it out and held it against herself. Would Betty mind if she borrowed it? She should really ask her first but there wasn’t time. Connie slipped it over her shoulders and it fitted her perfectly. She fluffed up her hair and put on a bit of make-up. She felt a bit guilty about Betty’s dress, but she looked fabulous even if she said so herself. What was Eva’s brother like? Heavens, she didn’t even know his name.
Fourteen
Roger Maxwell took them to Mitchell’s in the Arcade. The restaurant which was on two floors had become a symbol of resilience during the war. Its sister restaurant near the New Town Hall in Chapel Road had been bombed out in September 1940, the direct hit also taking out the shop next door. Mercifully, the New Town Hall got off lightly with no structural damage and only minimal damage from two other bombs which fell in the car park at the back and in the road at the same time.
Mitchell’s in the Arcade was hugely popular. Food was rationed but not in restaurants and cafés. At lunchtimes they often had a queue of people reaching out into Montague Street, but at this time of day, 4.30 p.m., there were few customers. Eva, Connie and Roger sat next to the window so that they could enjoy watching the passers-by. It was a bit early for tea but they were all hungry and hadn’t eaten since lunchtime so they ordered the fish and chips.
Once the waitress had gone, Connie had a chance to have a good look at Eva’s brother. He wasn’t exactly handsome but he had a pleasant face. He looked about thirty, with long fingers, some heavily stained with nicotine. His eyes were grey and he had the same laughter lines on his face as his sister. He took out a packet of Players Navy Cut and offered them round. Connie shook her head.
‘You smoke too much,’ said Eva.
‘It helps me with my nerves,’ Roger smiled playfully and pretended that he had the shakes. ‘It keeps me steady when I do the bombs.’
‘Don’t,’ said Eva looking down at her hands.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said remorsefully, ‘and you’re right. I should give up. I’ll try. I will, I promise.’
Placated, she smiled again.
‘So tell me,’ he said stubbing out the half-finished cigarette, ‘how’s the training going?’
Eva and Connie spent the next few minutes telling him about the events of the past year and a bit and Roger laughed heartily at some of the tales they had to tell. ‘I’m surprised that you have such fun,’ he said. ‘I always thought of nursing as a demanding and difficult job.’
‘It is most of the time,’ said Connie, ‘but we can have a laugh now and then.’
‘We’re the same as you,’ said Eva. ‘We have a black humour too. It’s the only thing that keeps you going at tim
es.’
Roger nodded sagely.
Their tea arrived. The portions were small, but they all enjoyed their meal and a round of bread and butter served with it made it go a little further.
‘Are you staying with the bomb squad?’ said Eva and Connie could tell she was dreading his reply.
‘It suits me at the moment,’ said Roger. ‘I’ve no ties, no family, and no children to worry about if anything should happen … so why not?’
Eva avoided eye contact.
‘I am very careful, sis,’ he said.
‘Mum and I worry about you,’ she said dully.
‘Well, don’t,’ he said firmly.
‘Will you stay in the army?’ Connie asked.
He smiled. ‘At the moment, I like what I do. In fact, the day I start worrying about myself is the day I pack it in. Changing the subject, when can you girls get an evening off?’
‘Saturday,’ said Connie glancing at her friend to confirm it. ‘With a late pass we can be out until 11 p.m.’
‘Why?’ said Eva.
‘Do you enjoy dancing?’ he said looking directly at Connie.
Connie grinned.
He looked thoughtful. ‘Ah, but do they have any decent dances around here?’
‘There’s one every Saturday in the Assembly Hall,’ Connie said. ‘They’re quite good. I used to go with Jane Jackson but I haven’t been for ages.’
‘Good,’ said Roger. ‘Then it’s all settled. We’ll do it this coming Saturday.’
‘You’re a fast worker,’ Connie laughed. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Go ahead,’ said Roger taking a sideways glance at his sister. Eva was giving Connie a quizzical look.
‘Do you know anything about the burns unit at East Grinstead?’
Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Eva shot her a wounded look and Connie realised she had been thoughtless and crass. Thankfully, Roger seemed completely unfazed.
‘I’m told it’s the best damned unit in the country,’ he said. ‘Why?’
Connie took a deep breath and told him about the letter and Kenneth.
‘You’ll go and see him of course,’ said Roger.
Connie nodded. ‘My family won’t like it but, yes, I will.’
‘If you’re nervous about seeing him,’ said Roger, ‘I’ll take you.’
Connie was surprised to realise her heart had skipped a beat.
‘That’s all right, Roger,’ said Eva. ‘I’ve already offered.’
Roger looked concerned. ‘Some of the chaps look a bit odd,’ he said. ‘I don’t know about your brother but you must be prepared that you might see some terrible injuries.’
Connie nodded gravely.
‘Having said that,’ Roger went on, ‘you’ll be amazed at their courage. They don’t let what’s happened to them stop them enjoying life and the whole town has taken them to their hearts. They go dancing, and to the pubs and pictures just like anybody else. The doctors do their best to get them back to normal. There’s no question of shutting them away somewhere.’
The waitress came and offered them ice cream. They didn’t take much persuading and she hurried away to fetch some.
‘Right,’ said Roger when she’d gone. ‘After ice cream the night is still young. Who fancies coming to the pictures with me?’
‘What’s on?’ Eva shrugged.
‘Great Expectations with John Mills at the Rivoli, Notorious, that’s an Alfred Hitchcock film with Cary Grant at the Odeon and The Postman Always Rings Twice at the Dome, with Lana Turner,’ said Roger reeling them off.
‘Notorious,’ said Eva and Connie together.
‘Cary Grant it is then,’ Roger grinned.
Their ice cream was delicious and the bill came to a whopping £1/13/- but Roger wouldn’t hear of taking anything from them. As they settled into their cinema seats, although Connie was glad she’d asked him about the hospital at East Grinstead, a deep sense of foreboding had settled onto her shoulders. She would write to William Garfield when she got back to the hospital and arrange to go and see Kenneth on her next day off.
It wasn’t until lunchtime that Connie realised something was wrong. It had been two days since she and Eva had gone to the pictures with her brother. The film was excellent and Cary Grant was wonderfully handsome. When Eva popped out to the toilet, Roger had asked Connie again if she would like him to go with her to East Grinstead. She dearly wanted to say yes but was afraid of offending Eva.
‘I can’t get away until next week,’ she said.
‘Well, let me know,’ said Roger quickly as he saw Eva coming their way, ‘and I’ll drive you there.’
Connie remembered thinking how kind he was and wishing it was Eugène, the Frenchie asking her. She’d have jumped at the chance to be alone in a car with him and as soon as the thought ran through her head, a wave of guilt washed over her. What was she thinking about? She wasn’t going to East Grinstead on a jolly for heaven’s sake. She was going to see her brother and who knows what sort of a state he’d be in. And besides, Eugène wasn’t available. He belonged to Mavis Hampton.
Right now, she had other concerns. Eva hadn’t come onto the ward this morning and nobody seemed to know where she was. Connie kept looking over her shoulder as the staff did morning prayers together and after Sister had read the night report but still there was no sign of Eva.
Connie began her day by getting the remaining bed-bound patients washed. Without Eva, she had to manage the breakfast trolley on her own but luckily there were only two patients who needed help with eating. She couldn’t help looking at the ward doors, because she thought that at any minute Eva would fly through them all apologies and embarrassment, but they remained firmly shut. Although she had to hurry her patients a little more than she would have liked, Connie was able to get everything done before the ward round. Sister was on her tail to make sure all the beds were tidy and the lockers wiped before Matron appeared, so what had happened to Eva had to wait.
It wasn’t until her mid-morning break that Connie had time to ask around. Nobody seemed to have any idea where Eva was and by now Connie was getting worried. She knew Eva had gone out with her boyfriend for a drink but she hadn’t got a late pass so she should have been in by ten. Connie also knew Phyllis had gone to the pictures last night but when she asked her if she had seen Eva, Phyllis looked blank.
‘When I got in,’ she said, ‘I heard the porter say, “You’re the last one,” so she must have come in before me.’
Connie frowned. ‘So why didn’t she come on duty?’
Phyllis shrugged. ‘Perhaps she has a hangover.’
Connie’s morning dragged slowly. As soon as Sister sent her to lunch, she headed for the nurses’ home and tapped lightly on Eva’s door. No one came. Where was she? Standing close to the wood, Connie could hear an odd rattling sound. Eva must be in there, she thought. So why doesn’t she answer the door?
‘Eva?’ Connie knocked a little louder. But still no one came. She tried the door handle and the door wasn’t locked. As she opened it, she was hit by the rank smell of vomit.
Eva was still in bed. She made no attempt to get up and the iron bedstead was rattling violently against the wall. Connie moved anxiously towards the untidy heap of bedclothes and saw at once that Eva was far from well. Her face was ashen and there was dried vomit all over the pillow, on her face and in her hair. She had her eyes half open but they were unfocused. When Connie said her name, there was no reaction at all. She looked as if she was frozen to death but when Connie touched her forehead, she was burning up.
Connie raced from the room and downstairs where she rang Home Sister on the internal phone. By the time Sister Abbott arrived, Connie had already fetched a bowl of warm water from the bathroom and was washing Eva’s face. Sister Abbott took charge immediately and Connie was told to go for a doctor.
Dr Greene came straight away. Connie hovered by the door but Home Sister shooed her away. ‘There’s no need for you to stay, nurse,
’ she said curtly.
‘Is she going to be all right?’ Connie was really worried. Dr Greene was listening to Eva’s chest.
‘It’s nothing,’ said Home Sister. ‘A touch of flu, that’s all. Off you go now.’
Outside in the corridor, Connie looked at her fob watch. It was too late to go to the canteen; she had to get back on duty. She’d have to go without lunch. She stayed outside until Eva was stretchered to the nurses’ sickbay and then ran all the way back to the ward.
Connie’s first thought when she came off duty was Eva but the nurse on duty in the sickbay was reluctant to let her come in. ‘Sister will kill me,’ she said looking nervously over her shoulder. ‘She said no visitors.’
‘But she’s my friend,’ Connie protested mildly. ‘I was the one who found her.’
The girl relented. Eva was just as pale but she had stopped trembling and looked more rested.
‘How are you feeling?’ Connie whispered.
‘Terrible,’ Eva croaked. ‘My head is banging and my mouth feels like the bottom of a parrot’s cage.’
‘I thought you might be suffering from a hangover.’
‘Fat chance,’ she said. ‘We’re saving every bean we can to get married.’
‘Does he know you’re here?’
Eva shook her head. ‘Don’t tell him. He’ll want to come and nobody must know about us.’
‘He’ll be devastated if I don’t tell him.’
Eva sighed. ‘Then tell him not to come.’
