by Dilly Court
Shirley’s brow puckered into a frown. ‘Where’s Tony?’
Ginnie glanced over her shoulder in the hope that Avril had awakened at the sound of voices but she was still asleep and it did not seem fair to disturb her. This was one time when she would have been grateful for her aunt’s timely intervention. ‘You mustn’t worry about a thing, Shirley. Just concentrate on getting better so that you can look after your baby. What are you going to call him? He needs a name.’
‘Colin,’ Shirley whispered. ‘I’m very thirsty. I could murder a cup of tea.’
Ginnie leapt to her feet. ‘I’ll go and find a nurse.’ She left the room and hurried to the sister’s office. The aroma of hot toast and tea reminded her that she had not eaten anything since early the previous evening. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation as she knocked on the open door. ‘My sister is asking for something to drink,’ she said in answer to the nurse’s questioning glance. ‘Is it all right to give her a drink of water? Or could she have a cup of tea?’
‘I’ll take a look at her first.’ The ward sister abandoned what she was doing. ‘Is she fully conscious?’
‘She’s a bit drowsy, but I suppose that’s normal.’ Ginnie stood aside to allow the nurse to pass. ‘She’s asking about her friend, the young American who died in the crash. I don’t know what to tell her.’
‘Perhaps the least said the better until Mrs Mallory is stronger. We don’t want to upset her at this stage in her recovery.’
Shirley and the baby returned home a week before Christmas. Major Dudley sent his aide to collect them in the staff car and Ginnie accompanied him. Shirley had recovered well from the operation but her left arm was in a sling, which limited what she could do for herself and the baby. Ginnie took charge of Colin, breathing in the sweet scent of him as she cuddled him in her arms. His shock of dark hair gave him a slightly comical appearance but when he opened his eyes they were a deep shade of violet. ‘You’re going to break a few hearts when you’re older, Colin,’ she whispered, dropping a kiss on his chubby cheek.
When they arrived home Shirley uttered a cry of delight as she walked through the door. A blazing log fire cast a warm and welcoming glow around the room and the scent of burning apple wood filled the air. Ginnie had decorated the bar with boughs of holly and had filled a copper kettle with the last of the bronze chrysanthemums that had escaped the frost. Percy had procured a Christmas tree from somewhere on the estate, which Ginnie had decorated with Avril’s precious hoard of glass baubles and slightly tarnished strands of tinsel.
‘It looks like a scene from a Christmas card.’ Shirley’s eyes filled with tears. ‘It would be perfect if Tony was here to share it with us.’
Colin opened his eyes and his mouth turned down at the corners as he worked himself up to cry. Ginnie rocked him in her arms. ‘I think someone is hungry,’ she said hastily. ‘I’ll take him to the sitting room. There’s a fire in there too. We’ve pulled out all the stops for your return, Shirley. No expense has been spared.’
‘And we’ve got roast chicken for dinner.’ Avril lifted the hatch in the bar counter. ‘Actually it’s an old boiler but I’ve used all my culinary skill to turn it into a feast. Come through, darling.’
Shirley sniffed and dashed her hand across her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Avril. I don’t mean to be a wet blanket, especially when you’ve all gone to so much trouble.’
‘We understand,’ Avril said gently. ‘But you’ve got this young man to think of now and he’s telling you that he’s hungry.’
Tony’s funeral had taken place in the village church during Shirley’s absence and after her initial outburst of grief she rarely mentioned his name, but Ginnie felt her sister’s distress as if the loss had been her own. She knew instinctively that Tony’s death had affected Shirley far more deeply than that of poor Charlie. Ginnie could empathise with Shirley as the pain of losing Nick had left her emotions tattered and raw-edged. To the best of her knowledge, Nick was still alive, but even if he survived the war she knew that she would never see him again. He would return to his home town and marry Betsy. They would raise their family and live out their lives in America. The worst part of it was that there was no one in whom she could confide. She could not share her feelings with Shirley, and Avril would almost certainly tell her that it was puppy love, and that there would be many more men in her life before she found the right one, if ever.
Ginnie did her best to put Nick out of her mind, but there were daily reminders of him at the hospital. It seemed Nurse Helga still bore a grudge after all, and had subtle ways of making Ginnie’s life as difficult as possible while taking care not to invoke criticism from her superiors. She never overstepped the mark, but she made it plain to all that Ginnie was very much her inferior. Ginnie would have taken great delight in telling Nurse Helga exactly what she thought of her, had she not needed the wage packet she collected every Friday. But for people like Meriel and the rest of her workmates, Ginnie might not have possessed the determination to go on.
Two days before Christmas, she was sorting through the morning post when she came across an aerogram addressed to her. Avril had taken the pony and trap into town to join the queues at the shops in the hope of being able to purchase a few extras for the festive season, and Shirley was in the sitting room, giving Colin his feed. Ginnie’s hand shook as she opened the envelope and her eyes misted with tears. The piece of paper, no bigger than a postcard, was from Nick. He had drawn a cartoon of a snowman with a sad expression on its round face, and beneath it the words – I feel like this guy. Yours ever, Nick.
She struggled between tears and laughter. He had not forgotten her and the message was in the picture, although she was not exactly certain of its meaning. Perhaps it meant that his heart was frozen like that of the snowman? She might never know, but whether or not it was foolish, it lifted her spirits and gave her hope. She was in his thoughts as he was in hers. It might be crazy but she felt happier than she had since the day he left. She took the Christmas cards and placed them on the kitchen table for Avril to open when she returned from town. There was one addressed to them with a London postmark and she took it through to Shirley who had managed to hitch Colin over her uninjured shoulder and was attempting to burp him.
‘I need to be a blooming contortionist,’ she said crossly. ‘Poor little chap; he gets jiggled to bits by his one-armed mummy.’
Ginnie hurried to the sofa and took him from her. ‘I’ll swap him for a Christmas card from Mum and Dad,’ she said, handing it to Ginnie. ‘Come on, Colin old chap. Let’s have a big burp and then I’ll put you in your pram for your nap.’
‘Are you sure it’s not too cold?’ Shirley asked anxiously. ‘I mean, he’s so little. I don’t want him to catch pneumonia.’
‘It’s up to you,’ Ginnie said patiently. ‘Mum always said she put us outside in all weathers except fog and snow.’
‘Make sure he’s well wrapped up then.’ Shirley glanced at the writing inside the card. ‘Mum and Dad send their love and a big kiss for Colin. Isn’t that sweet? I can’t wait to take him home and show him off.’
Ginnie eyed her curiously. ‘Doesn’t it worry you that V2s are dropping from the sky without warning? Mum and Dad are in the firing line.’
‘Don’t say things like that,’ Shirley said, shuddering. ‘I refuse to think about it.’
‘Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry I mentioned it.’ Ginnie gave Colin an encouraging pat on the back and he uttered a satisfactory belch. ‘Well done, my boy,’ she said, chuckling. ‘That was a corker.’
Shirley looked up, angling her head. ‘You’re very cheerful all of a sudden. What’s got into you?’
‘I’m trying to get into the Christmas spirit,’ Ginnie said, hoping that she sounded convincing as Shirley was no fool and would be quick to spot a lie. ‘But I’m sorry if I’m being insensitive,’ she added hastily. ‘I mean it’s not long since . . .’ Realising that she was making things worse she smiled apologetically. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s all right. I’m not going to break down every time someone mentions his name. I miss him like mad, but I’ve got Colin to think of now. He’s the most important man in my life and always will be.’
Ginnie cradled him in her arms. ‘He’s adorable, even when he yells.’
‘You wouldn’t say that if you still shared my room. At two o’clock in the morning he’s not such a little angel, but I love him all the same.’
‘It was good of Avril to let me use the spare room.’
‘Well, she doesn’t get many people wanting to stay in the middle of winter, and hopefully the war will be over by the spring and we can go home. I love Avril, but I don’t want Colin to grow up in a pub, and I’ve got to think of the future. I’ve a child to support and I need to get a job.’
‘You mustn’t start worrying about that now. I’ll stay on at the hospital and that will keep us for the time being. You’ve got to concentrate on getting fit again.’
Shirley pulled a face. ‘I know, but I’m not a patient person. I want this bloody war to be over so that we can get on with our lives.’
‘Don’t we all?’ Ginnie glanced out of the window and frowned. ‘I think it’s going to rain. I’ll put the young master to bed in his cot and then I’m off to work. I’m on a late shift today so I won’t be home until this evening. Will you be all right until Avril gets back from the shops?’
Shirley raised herself from the sofa. ‘I’m not an invalid. I can open up if she’s not here in time and there aren’t likely to be many customers this morning. Everyone will be doing their last minute preparations for Christmas.’
‘All right, if you’re sure.’
‘Stop fussing and go to work. It’s pay day.’
Nurse Helga pounced on Ginnie before she had time to fasten up her shapeless and extremely unflattering overall. ‘What time do you call this, Travis?’
‘I’m on a late shift, Nurse Halvorsen.’
Helga’s lips tightened and her pale blue eyes narrowed. ‘Just because it’s Christmas doesn’t give you girls the right to be slack.’
Ginnie concentrated on buttoning up the starched cotton. ‘Yes, nurse.’
Helga glared at her. ‘Butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, would it, Travis? You can’t fool me with your innocent schoolgirl act.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Ginnie looked up, startled by this unexpected attack so early in the day. Helga usually waited until she found something to complain about before berating her verbally. ‘I’m not with you, Nurse Halvorsen.’
‘You pretend to be naïve and sweet but you’re a Lorelei in disguise. You took him away from me, you little bitch.’
Ginnie glanced round to see if there was anyone close enough to hear Helga’s vituperative remarks, but the corridor was deserted. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Yes, you do. Nick and I were an item before you sashayed onto the scene.’
‘I’m not having this conversation, Nurse Halvorsen. There’s nothing going on between Nick and me.’
‘Not now there isn’t.’ Helga’s lips curled in a feline snarl. ‘I’ve just spoken to Danny Flynn and he told me that Nick has been repatriated to the States.’
Ginnie knew only too well what this meant and she clutched the door jamb for support. ‘He’s been wounded?’
Helga leaned forward so that her face was close to Ginnie’s. ‘You don’t care for him, huh? Well, sister, you just let your feelings show and I know you’ve been lying all along. Yes, he was injured but unfortunately it wasn’t fatal. The two-timing nogoodnik deserved all he got, but he’s gone home to his faithful sweetheart Betsy, and that’s the last either of us will see of him. Merry Christmas, Travis.’ She stalked away with a backward wave of her hand, swinging her hips as she went.
Ginnie slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled aerogram. The snowman’s face seemed even sadder now, and icy fingers clutched at her heart. Helga’s spiteful words echoed in her head. ‘He’s gone home to his faithful sweetheart Betsy.’ She had known it would happen but a small part of her had hoped that he might return to England one last time. Now she knew that would never happen. Nick was lost to her forever. She picked up a mop and bucket and set off for the first ward on her list, but her mind was not on her work. She responded automatically to the cheerful banter from the patients who were patently bored and in need of company, but all she could think about was Nick. His injuries must have been severe for him to have been sent back to the States, but if Helga had been in full possession of the facts she had not been forthcoming. She had wanted to cause pain and she had succeeded.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Ginnie exchanged compliments of the season with those who were going off duty and she managed to keep out of Helga’s way until her shift ended. She had changed into her own clothes, depositing her overall in the linen hamper ready to be taken to the laundry, and had just left the locker room used by the civilian staff when she saw Danny coming along the corridor. She hurried towards him. ‘Danny.’ She uttered his name on a sob, and he wrapped his arms around her.
‘Hey, kid. What’s with the tears? Has the wicked witch of the west been getting at you again?’
She gulped and swallowed, easing away from him. ‘I thought you liked Helga.’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘She’s okay, I guess, and I felt sorry for her at the village hop when she turned up on her own and no one asked her to dance. But she shouldn’t take her personal problems out on you.’
‘I just seem to get on her wrong side.’ Ginnie struggled to hold back a fresh flood of tears. ‘I’m sorry, Danny. I’ve had a rotten day and I’ve been out of my mind with worry.’
He pressed a crumpled hanky into her hand. ‘I guess she told you about Nick?’
‘Only to gloat. She blames me for their break-up.’
He hooked his arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s all in her mind, honey. They were never an item, but Helga still has a thing for Nick and she’s not the forgiving type.’
‘You can say that again.’ Ginnie blew her nose, burying her face in the soft folds of the handkerchief. ‘Sorry, I’ll wash this and bring it back tomorrow.’
He dismissed her offer with a casual wave of his hand. ‘Don’t bother, kid. I’ve got dozens of the things. My aunts keep the cotton industry in business and they send them to me together with socks and Hershey bars. They seem to think that I’m still five years old.’
‘Thanks, Danny.’
‘For what, honey?’
‘For trying to cheer me up. I’m sorry I blubbed all over your uniform, but I’m so worried about Nick. Do you know anything about his injuries?’
He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. ‘He was in a lorry convoy when it came under fire. I don’t know the exact details, Ginnie, but he underwent surgery in a field hospital. They saved his life, that’s for sure, but all I know is that he won’t be returning to active duty. I guess we’ll have to wait for more news.’
‘You are telling me everything, aren’t you, Danny?’
‘Sure I am. I wouldn’t lie to you about something as serious as this, kid. I know how much the guy means to you – to all of us. Nick’s the best; he’s been like a brother to me. I don’t want to lose another pal.’
She tucked his hanky into her pocket. ‘I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I miss Tony too. So does Shirley. I hate this damn war.’
‘I guess it can’t go on much longer, and then I’ll go home to LA and take up a position in one of the major hospitals, at least that’s the plan. But I’ll always remember you and Avril and the pub on the riverbank. Maybe I’ll come back one day with a wife and kids and show them where I spent part of the war.’ Danny leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Merry Christmas, honey.’
Despite Avril’s best efforts, Christmas was a subdued affair. Food and alcohol were at their scarcest, even allowing for the extras allowed by the Ministry of Food, but as Avril said, an extra one and a
half pounds of sugar and eight pennyworth of meat hardly constituted a feast. But at least blackout restrictions were lifted and lights shone through the stained-glass windows of the village church for the first time since the beginning of the war.
Ginnie and Shirley had a brief conversation with their parents on Christmas morning, having booked a trunk call several days previously, but in a way this only made the separation more painful. Ginnie tried to put a brave face on things, but Nick was never far from her thoughts. She had seen men recovering from the type of injuries that he might have suffered and she marvelled at their courage and fortitude as they coped with their disabilities. She made a valiant effort to be positive but her face ached from forcing her muscles into a smile and she seemed to have a lump of lead where her heart should have been.
By nine o’clock she was exhausted and longing for closing time. There were several officers seated around the small tables close to the inglenook, and Lionel Smithers had taken his usual seat at the bar. ‘It’s been the busiest day of the year.’ His grey eyes twinkled and he held out his empty glass. ‘Is there any chance of a refill, Avril, my dear?’
She produced a bottle from the shelf under the bar and measured out a generous tot. ‘This is the very last of my favourite single malt, Lionel. With the distillery mothballed until goodness knows when, I fear we’ll have to drink beer or be strictly teetotal.’ She beamed at him. ‘And that would never do.’
He raised his glass to her. ‘Here’s how.’ He sipped the whisky with a satisfied smile. ‘And here’s to an end to hostilities.’
Avril joined him in the toast. ‘Amen to that.’ She turned to Ginnie with a frown puckering her brow. ‘You’re very quiet this evening, darling. Are you feeling unwell?’
‘No, I’m fine.’ Avoiding her aunt’s questioning gaze, Ginnie picked up a cloth and began polishing the glasses she had left on the draining board.
As if sensing her mood, Lionel leaned across the counter. ‘And how is that fine young fellow Colin?’
