Nocturne

by Diane Armstrong

  ‘Does it hurt?’ she asked.

  ‘Only if I move or cough. Sister said the bandages can come off my face tomorrow.’

  She was trying not to stare at him. ‘I can’t believe it’s you either,’ she said and blushed. Words were so inadequate.

  She returned later that afternoon, lugging a gramophone and some records in brown paper sleeves. Placing one on the turntable, she cranked the handle, raised the arm from its cradle, and gently lowered the needle onto the edge of the disc. A moment later the sound of Paderewski playing Chopin nocturnes filled the ward. They listened in reverent silence and Elzunia felt that the tenderness of the music expressed her feelings more profoundly than words ever could. Beneath the delicate ecstasy of the poignant Nocturne in C, she heard a lament and a palpitating sense of loss. She looked down to blink away her tears. That was the nocturne she had heard in Andrzej’s apartment the last night they spent together. As she touched his hand, she felt sadness spreading through her veins. Our dreams betray and deceive us, especially when they are answered, she thought. When she had met Andrzej, it was Adam’s embrace she longed for. Now, with an intensity that made her dizzy, she wished it was Andrzej lying there.

  It was at this moment that Judith walked past the Intensive Care ward and knew that her world had changed forever. Jealousy scorched her as she took in the sight of their faces so close together, and she regretted not having sent Elzunia away. The girl stood between her and the only man she had ever wanted, the only man who had ever cared about her, and perhaps still would, if Elzunia hadn’t reappeared in his life.

  The bandages had come off but when Adam looked in the mirror, he hardly recognised himself. He was looking at a puffy face with hardly any contours, a nose that had splayed across his face, purple bruises under his eyes and a swollen jaw that looked like a severe case of mumps.

  ‘You’re no oil painting, love, that’s for sure,’ Kathleen said as she surveyed him. Then she chuckled. ‘Picasso, maybe.’

  He couldn’t wait to tell Judith about his reunion with Elzunia and was disappointed that she hadn’t come to see him all day. As the day wore on, he grew increasingly impatient to see her, and show her that the bandages had been removed. Restless, he tried to find reasons for her absence and concluded that she must be dealing with emergencies and would come as soon as she had time. Elzunia, on the other hand, had put her head around the door many times, and each time he saw her, he marvelled at the serendipity that had brought him to the hospital where she and Judith were both working. War usually separated people but it had brought the three of them together in a way that was miraculous.

  In her office, Judith was tearing herself apart as she struggled with the longing to see him and the determination to avoid visiting his ward. She couldn’t bear the thought that he might feel sorry for her, or try to make excuses. To save her pride, she decided to keep away but it took all her strength to keep that resolve.

  Kathleen knocked on the door to report that the Mystery Man — she still referred to him that way because she couldn’t get her tongue around his unpronounceable surname — had had his bandages and dressings removed.

  ‘He’s been askin’ for you, Matron,’ she said. ‘Every time I go in.’

  Judith made a dismissive gesture. ‘I haven’t got time,’ she said, and continued writing her report, her knuckles white as she gripped the pen.

  From his bed, Adam occasionally caught sight of Judith walking past on her rounds. He was baffled by her continued absence and the fact that she seemed to avert her face and hasten her step whenever she passed the Intensive Care ward. Women were fickle and unfathomable and often played hard to get, but he had believed that Judith was different. She’d been overcome with joy at seeing him at first, but now, for some inexplicable reason, she was ignoring him.

  After a few days, he managed to hobble along the corridor, leaning on crutches. Panting, he had to stop every few steps because the searing pain in his ribs brought tears to his eyes, but he gritted his teeth and kept going until he reached her office and tapped on the door with a crutch.

  She caught her breath when she saw his scarred, bruised face, and restraining an impulse to stroke it, hurriedly looked away.

  ‘Sit down a minute, but I can’t talk long,’ she said crisply.

  ‘Judith, tell me what’s going on,’ he said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Perhaps you don’t realise that I’m running a hospital here, not a social club. I’m run off my feet from morning till night. I’m not just the head of nursing here. I’m the administrator, negotiator, welfare worker, counsellor and peacemaker. And I still don’t have enough thermometers or bed pans.’

  He was staring at her. ‘I have never seen such a change in anyone.’

  She toyed with a glass paperweight, not trusting herself to reply.

  He hauled himself to his feet. At the door, he turned and gave her an icy look. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t waste any more of your time.’

  The door closed behind him. She turned to the window and buried her face in her hands.

  Sixty-Five

  Elzunia went about her duties as usual, taking temperatures, sponging fevered bodies and giving injections, but beneath her calm exterior she was churning with anxiety. The patients were making plans for the future and soon she too would have to move on and make a new life for herself and the children, but the world seemed a huge and frightening place.

  There was no one waiting for her and she didn’t belong anywhere. For the first few weeks after the unexpected meeting with her father, she’d basked in the afterglow of his presence, and had wanted to believe his explanations and assurances, but now that the elation had faded, too many doubts lingered and too many issues remained unresolved. Had he really been told they were dead? What was his true relationship with Marta, and when did it begin? She strained her memory to recall what she had observed or overheard in the room next door to Granny’s in case she had overlooked some significant clue, but nothing came to mind.

  Frustrating thoughts swirled through her mind as she replaced the drenched pillowcase of the young Czech patient who was watching her with his intense gaze. She plumped his pillow, shook a thermometer and placed it under his tongue.

  ‘Temperature’s come down,’ she said, assuming her cheerful professional tone. ‘You’ll probably be able to leave soon.’

  ‘What about you, Miss Elzunia?’ he asked. ‘Will you go too?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. Adam’s sudden reappearance in her life had left her more confused than ever. For the past six years, from the moment they met, she had thought about him every day, and the fact that he’d kept her cigarette case in his breast pocket all this time must mean he cared about her too. And now, for the third time, their paths had crossed. It had to be destiny.

  But something had changed. It wasn’t just because his face was swollen and bruised and had lost its gaunt look. Or because the bitter curve of his mouth that had given him the haunted, moody expression she’d found so alluring had gone. Something gnawed at her and she lay in bed night after night trying to work it out.

  Almost every night for the past six years she had fallen asleep with his face and voice imprinted on her mind, but now that he was here in the flesh he seemed less real and more distant than before. Perhaps the idea of Adam was more powerful than the reality. It was like looking at a relative with a family resemblance rather than at Adam himself. She tried to dismiss these disturbing thoughts that continued to swirl around in her head. Although it was painful to let go of the dream that had sustained her for so long, she had to admit that he didn’t arouse the unsettling excitement that had made her body quiver and grow hot whenever she had thought about him. These days it was Andrzej who haunted her dreams, Andrzej who held her close and stroked her and made her dizzy with longing as she melted into his arms. Whenever she woke up, she tried to sink back into the dream and felt guilty, as though she was
disloyal to them both.

  From the scene she had witnessed the previous week between Adam and Matron, it seemed they had a strong connection, even though Matron never came into his ward any more. This was puzzling but Adam never mentioned it and Elzunia didn’t feel she had the right to ask. She was also baffled by Matron’s changed attitude towards her. These days she never smiled or made friendly comments, and whenever she spoke she sounded abrupt.

  Adam was sitting in a chair, looking out the window when Elzunia put her head around the door.

  ‘You look sad today,’ he said.

  She picked at her thumbnail. ‘For six years I lived one hour at a time, and when night came I couldn’t believe I was still alive. But now it’s over, I don’t know what to do.’ It was a relief to drop the cheerful mask and say what was on her mind.

  He was nodding. ‘We both have to learn how to live a normal life.’

  ‘For me, war became normal,’ she said. She looked up at him. ‘You look sad too. Can I help?’

  He shook his head. Ever since Judith had started avoiding him, he had been depressed. It was such a brutal way of showing that she had lost interest. He studied the girl beside him and was touched that she had noticed his distress.

  Propping her chin on her clasped hands, Elzunia glanced outside. The sky had darkened and gusts of wind lashed the rain against the window panes. She turned back to Adam.

  ‘During the war I made life-and-death decisions all the time,’ she mused, ‘but now I feel worn out at the thought of having to decide anything.’

  ‘Thinking complicates matters,’ he said. ‘When your life is at stake, instinct takes over. Like leaping from a Lanc without a parachute.’

  She fiddled with the watch pinned to her starched apron. ‘Will you go back to Poland?’ she asked.

  He stared moodily out of the window. The wind had suddenly dropped and the rain had eased, but the clouds still hung low and dark. He sat forward and Elzunia was struck by the intensity and hunger in his face and turned to follow his gaze. Judith was crossing the courtyard towards the general ward. She looked up at his window and, for a moment, their eyes met. Then she looked away and kept walking until she disappeared from view. His mouth tightened and Elzunia saw the pain in his eyes. With what seemed like effort, he turned his attention back to the room and asked her to repeat the question.

  ‘I was wondering whether you’d planned to go back to Poland.’

  He shook his head. ‘For six years I risked my life in the AK and bombed German cities so the war would end and Poland would be free.’ He spoke with such bitterness that she felt a chill sliding down her back. ‘It never occurred to me that, when it was over, the Poland I’d fought for would no longer exist and, instead of the Nazis, the communists would be in power. I’ve heard that the jails are full of AK activists and RAF pilots who were naïve enough to go back. The communists don’t want freedom fighters stirring up trouble. I won’t go back until they’ve been overthrown.’

  Footsteps sounded in the corridor again and he swivelled around, but it was Sister who had come into the ward. He turned back towards Elzunia and there was an angry glint in his eyes.

  ‘The sooner I get out of here the better,’ he said. ‘I was thinking of going to Canada.’

  ‘Do you know anyone there?’ she asked.

  He shook his head and for a few minutes they sat in silence. Then he looked into her face and was overcome by a rush of affection. He had admired this spirited girl ever since she had been his guide in the Ghetto and now, for the third time, fate had thrown her in his path. He had saved her from a bomb, and she had saved him from a bullet. There was a saying that if you saved someone’s life, you became responsible for it. He looked at her again. They were both alone in a foreign country, without any plans for the future. On impulse, he said, ‘How would you feel about going to Canada with me?’

  The world stopped turning. The whole universe hung in the balance, suspended in the miracle of that moment.

  ‘I’ve never thought about it,’ she stammered.

  ‘Well, think about it now,’ he said.

  The wind had picked up, driving the stinging rain against Elzunia’s skin. She pulled her navy-blue cape close around her as she ran across the uncovered passageway to the dormitory and crept into bed, careful not to disturb Zbyszek and Gittel who were asleep. She was trembling. What had Adam’s sudden invitation meant? Was it a proposal, a proposition, or merely a friendly suggestion? Although he always looked pleased to see her, he’d never given any indication of anything other than friendship. So why did he want her to go to Canada?

  Only a few weeks before, she would have given anything just to see him again. Even in her most fevered flights of fantasy, she had never envisaged that one day he would want her to go away with him. Perhaps it didn’t really matter why he had asked her. All she had to do was to accept, and her dreams would come true and she wouldn’t be alone any more. Even if he felt no more than friendship, there was always a chance that in time his feelings might deepen. She fell asleep but woke an hour later and tossed from side to side. Her thoughts see-sawed back and forth.

  I might as well pull petals off a daisy and chant I’ll go, I won’t go, she thought. Then she recalled the hungry look in his eyes when he’d watched Matron crossing the courtyard, so different from the way he looked at her, and then the disappointment on his face when Matron walked past. She saw it now with startling clarity. It was Matron he really wanted.

  The door opened and closed again. Kathleen was rummaging through her valise, throwing her belongings on the floor in a growing pile. She looked up and caught sight of Elzunia lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

  ‘What’s up, love? she asked. ‘You look that forlorn. Man trouble?’

  Elzunia propped herself up on her elbow. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  Kathleen sat on the edge of her bed and gave her a shrewd look. ‘You probably do know, but you’re scared of followin’ your heart.’

  Elzunia dropped off to sleep again. She was standing under an oak tree in a dark forest, looking for a path that would lead her home. Suddenly the sky darkened and thunder rumbled. A bolt of lightning flashed across her eyelids, so close that she felt the electrical charge. She flung herself to the ground and covered her head with her hands, just as the tree trunk split and crashed to the ground, missing her by centimetres. As she lay there, trembling, she heard something whizzing through the air and raised her head. An arrow lay quivering at her feet.

  She sprang up but more arrows flew past, thousands of them, fired by invisible archers, and all aimed at her. She was running now, her heart hammering in her ears. Any moment now those arrows would pierce her, but she was too exhausted to keep running. She stopped, resigned to her fate, but everything around her was silent and still. Without realising it, she had outrun the arrows. She sank to her knees in gratitude but a second later she sprang up. The children! Where were the children? She had left them near the oak tree. How could she have forgotten about them? She was already running back, faster than before, not stopping to think about the arrows. Nothing mattered but finding the children. She bolted through the forest, weaving crazily among the oaks and birches while arrows flew through the air. Let them still be there, she sobbed over and over, and her breath came in violent gasps. In front of her, the track split off in various directions. She was panic-stricken. Which one led to the children? If she took the wrong path and lost her way in the forest, she would never find them.

  The white trunks of birch trees gleamed in the darkness and she ran towards them, calling, shouting their names, panting, until, exhausted, she threw herself onto the soft forest floor and wept.

  As she lay there, she felt a soft tap on her shoulder and looked up. It was Andrzej, and he was looking down at her with that lopsided smile of his, the tram-driver’s cap on the back of his head, and she thought she’d explode with joy. ‘You almost took the wrong path, didn’t you?’ he was saying. Behind him, Zbyszek and G
ittel were sitting on a grassy hummock, picking blueberries.

  Elzunia woke up with a start, drenched in perspiration. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She glanced at the sleeping children to make sure they were still there and covered them up. She sat on her bed in the dark until the first rays of the sun speared through the space where the curtains didn’t meet. She pulled them aside, threw open the window and leaned out. The air was fresh and clear, as though the preceding day’s rain had cleansed the dust and grime and brought everything into sharp relief.

  Sixty-Six

  Judith was in her office reading through the nurses’ training program she had drawn up. In the corridor outside, nurses were hurrying to the wards, chatting about their boyfriends in Britain. For the third time, she turned back to the report but couldn’t take any of it in. Knowing that Adam was under the same roof, breathing the same air, but as inaccessible as if he were on Jupiter, made her feel she was being skinned alive, one strip at a time.

  When she had glanced up at his window that afternoon, she’d felt an impulse to go to him. There was still time to explain why she had become so distant, and admit that she still cared for him but didn’t want to stand in the way of his love for Elzunia. But when she came to the door of his ward, she saw him and Elzunia engrossed in what appeared an intimate conversation, and she had kept walking. By speaking out, she would only make a fool of herself. The pain and turmoil were bad enough without adding humiliation. Better to let him go on thinking she’d lost interest.

  For the first time since her arrival in Germany, her thoughts strayed to the future. The hospital was running well now and she ticked off in her mind what she had accomplished. Under her regime, the health and morale of the patients had improved beyond anything she’d thought possible when she had arrived in this tragic place. But she had no illusions about being indispensable. Any competent matron could take over from her now. Perhaps it was time to move on.

  With a sigh, she returned to her report when she heard a tap on the door. Elzunia was standing there with a resolute expression on her face.