by Sally Wragg
How calm he was! How reassuring! She closed her eyes, leaning into him.
‘Gran – me mam?’ Holly moaned, and Daisy straightened up at once, dabbing her eyes.
She’d almost forgotten the children! Billy, too, standing a little awkwardly to one side, not knowing what to do with his bandaged hands, hurt when he’d rushed to help get people out, and she only knew that because the ambulance driver had told her.
Billy, modest as ever, had never breathed a word.
Harry stood near his uncle, doing his best to feign indifference, but needing someone to tell him his mam was going to be all right.
They’d lost one parent. They wouldn’t lose another! Daisy hugged Holly with one arm and drew Harry into the circle of the other.
‘She’s going to be fine.’ She wished she could believe it, but what else could she say?
‘Where’s our Mary?’ Billy demanded. ‘Oughtn’t she to be here by now?’
‘Happen she’s not heard yet.’ Peter had wasted precious time looking for her before following Daisy and the children to Nottingham.
Mary wasn’t in her flat. No one seemed to know where she was.
‘Stop fretting, love. She’ll have gone off on a whim!’ he soothed. ‘You know Mary!’
They all knew Mary. Daisy bit back the sharp retort. If she could count the sleepless nights the blessed girl had given her …
‘Peter, I can’t bear anything else to go wrong,’ she said grimly. ‘This family’s had about as much as it can take.’
At that moment, Andrew Hardaker came out of the ward, and Daisy moved swiftly towards him, planting her body firmly in his path.
‘Andrew, we’ve heard nothing yet.’
The others joined her, and a tight knot of worry barred his progress. Andrew sighed. They weren’t the only ones who’d been up all night.
‘Our biggest concern is the knock she’s taken to the head.’ He gave in with as good a grace as he could muster. ‘We won’t know how bad this is until she comes round, I’m afraid. She has three broken ribs and a fractured ankle, but they’ll heal. The burns on her hand and arm are superficial.’
He sounded professional and soothing, but he couldn’t disguise his worry. Daisy saw it, and her heart sank.
‘She’s not out of the woods yet, you mean?’
His eyes flicked towards Harry and Holly, and then back to Daisy’s face.
‘We’re doing all we can. I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve news. And get some rest,’ he chided gently. ‘All of you! You’re really doing no good here.’
Daisy stepped back with a little snort of impatience. He touched her arm briefly, and was gone.
‘Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?’ a soft voice asked.
Mary! Relief flooded through Daisy, coupled with a large chunk of anger.
‘Where have you been?’ She sounded sharper than she’d intended. Mary was safe!
‘Tell me how Maggie is.’ Mary’s eyes were huge, filled with anxiety, which Daisy did her best to allay.
Once she’d told her the little they knew, Peter rushed in.
‘Do you realise we’ve been worried sick? You weren’t at the flat – we had no idea what might have happened! As if we hadn’t enough!’
‘We’re going for a breath of fresh air!’ Daisy seized her daughter’s arm and marched her briskly off out of harm’s way.
Peter didn’t lose his temper often, but he was brewing up for an argument this time. They were all worried, but it wasn’t fair to take their frustration out on Mary.
The corridor was a hive of activity – hospital staff and Services people roped in to help with the emergency, together with ladies from the WVS dispensing tea and directions.
Round the corner, Daisy found a quieter spot and leaned against the wall.
‘Do you want to tell me where you were last night?’
‘In the shelter, where else?’ Mary looked about her, then walked on, hips swaying in the way that drove her mother mad – and the men, too, by the looks of it.
An ARP warden pushing a trolley turned to watch, and nearly collided with a nurse. Daisy bit her lip in vexation, then hurried after her daughter.
‘I didn’t know what to do when the bombs came,’ Mary said. ‘We rushed outside. I was scared, Mam; I couldn’t think they’d bombed us.’
She blinked, seeing it all again as if she was still there – the rush of people from flats and houses, the flames, the shrieks, and that acrid smell of burning that seemed to get everywhere.
In that desperate moment, Mary thought the whole place had gone up …
She’d stood looking down towards Castle Maine, feeling the ground reverberate beneath her feet. She expected another explosion, knew she was too exposed, but fear had rooted her to the spot.
She’d wanted her mam as she’d never wanted her.
‘I was worried, Mam.’ Mary darted a quick glance Daisy’s way. She couldn’t look her mother in the face, though, so she walked on quickly, a conversation running in her head meanwhile, as if she were telling her what had really happened.
I was in the air-raid shelter, settling down for the night; it seemed safest even after the All Clear had gone. All the noise, the mayhem – people running helter skelter – I couldn’t bring myself to go back out again.
And then Laurence was there and …
Oh, I never meant for things to get out of hand!
She’d seen her Canadian airman once already that evening, but then he’d come back with a party of volunteers from the RAF station to see what help they could give. Laurence would do anything for anyone.
Eventually he’d found the time to make his way up to her flat, to discover her missing. He’d searched all over Castle Maine, ending up finally at the shelter in which she’d taken refuge. The relief on his face when he’d seen her! She’d not forget that in a hurry, nor how she’d felt when he put his arms around her.
And, of course, one thing had led to another …
Hot tears sprang into her eyes. She couldn’t tell her mother any of this, she simply couldn’t!
But her mother knew.
‘Mary, if there’s something wrong I wish you’d tell me.’ Daisy’s voice doggedly broke into her thoughts. Trust her to notice.
‘Is everything all right with John?’ Daisy felt duty bound to ask, even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
‘John’s fine!’ Mary’s voice rose, attracting curious glances from the people they passed. ‘What do you care? You never wanted me to marry him.’
‘He’s a Bradshaw!’ Daisy snapped, shocked at how angry she felt.
They were both tired and upset. Mary took a deep breath, and spoke more reasonably.
‘John’s his own man, Mam. He loves me—’
‘And do you love him?’ Daisy didn’t need to wait for the reply – she already knew what the answer would be.
She was Mary’s mother, and she loved her, but that didn’t blind her to her faults.
For the first time in her life, Daisy felt sorry for a Bradshaw. Poor John Bertram. Mary loved herself more than anyone else!
At least she and Mary had talked – which was more than they’d managed for some time. She took what comfort she could from it.
The main hall was full of bright sunshine. Daisy had almost forgotten it was morning. How odd, when a short distance away Maggie lay fighting for her life.
Daisy hardly felt the arm her younger daughter slipped round her. She longed suddenly, desperately, to run outside, and carry on running, until she’d outpaced every terrible thing that had occurred over the last few hours.
She wanted Castle Maine, damaged though it was. She longed for its hills and valleys, the big bright meadow full of flowers, and the sun climbing high over the factory.
She was a Derbyshire lass. Home was where she belonged, not here, with all this terrible uncertainty.
‘Shall we go back?’ Mary said quietly. ‘I want to know how Maggie is.’
And Daisy took her hand.
‘Silas, a terrible thing has happened …’
There was something badly wrong, Silas could hear that in Adèle’s voice.
‘What is it now?’
He’d washed and changed, eaten a hasty breakfast and then come straight to his study to try to find building materials, ringing the length and breadth of Derbyshire.
Imagine having to apply for permission to rebuild a factory producing for the war effort! Blast Hitler!
‘Maggie,’ Adèle said. ‘The girl who helped Nanny, remember?’
‘Of course I remember!’ Silas knew something bad was coming. ‘What is it, Adèle, for heaven’s sake?’
His wife’s hands twisted in agitation.
‘She was caught up in the second blast.’
Her words shocked him to the core. He half rose, then sat down again heavily.
‘Tell me!’
‘It sounds bad, Silas. They’ve taken her to the General. Stamps thought I – we – ought to know. They’re full of it downstairs!’
Silas drew in his breath and wiped his hand over his face, waiting as patiently as he could for things to stop looking blurred. Then he sprang up.
‘Tell me it’s not true.’ He stared down into her face. Adèle was able to watch his feelings in his eyes, and suddenly realised …
‘You know!’ she said, just before he spoke. ‘You know about Maggie!’ Her hands flew to her face.
Oh, Lord, how was he to get out of this?
‘I’ve no idea what you mean.’ He sank back into his chair. ‘You’re not making the slightest sense, woman.’
‘I’m making perfect sense!’
He threw her a long hard look, and knew there was no point in further denial.
Their eyes locked, full of sadness, pain, regret for all the things that might have been, if only they’d been honest with each other from the start.
‘How did you find out?’ His hands were over his face.
‘Did you think I wouldn’t know my own?’ Adèle was shocked. ‘I saw it when Holly was a babe in her mother’s arms! She’s the spit of Ned, and so is Harry.’
‘What a waste, Adèle.’ His hands fell away. It was his first, his only thought.
‘There’s no time for this now.’ Adèle, practical as ever. ‘Maggie’s our grandchild, Silas. We must go to her. I want to know how she is.’
‘And you think I don’t? I’ll tell Stokes to bring the car.’
Adèle opened the door.
‘We’ll say we were just passing. We’re looking in to see if they need help. It would be the most natural thing, after all. Maggie cared for John all those years!’
Silas’s face turned brick-red.
‘Be hanged to that!’ he snapped. ‘I want my grandchild, Adèle. I have every right to see her! I’ve been cheated long enough.’
Good had to come of this, despite the desperate circumstances! The girl was strong, she’d recover, she must.
The one obstacle in his path had just been removed. Adèle knew about Maggie. No one on earth was going to stop him laying claim to Ned’s daughter now.
Daisy, sitting at her daughter’s side, was almost overcome by the smell of antiseptic, which she hated. The atmosphere in the narrow ward, with its neat line of beds, was warm and cloying, and contained something else, too – fear. She could almost smell it.
There were folk here who’d never expected to see the inside of a hospital ward. This wasn’t anything like the time Peter had been in here for his leg operation.
She’d managed finally to persuade the rest of the family to take a break – Peter, with the children, back to their temporary digs in Nottingham; Billy home to Castle Maine, with Mary to look after him – but not until she’d promised faithfully to telephone news as soon as she had any.
They were all dead on their feet. Sleep was no longer a luxury, but a necessity. Peter was coming to relieve her later, but for now, her eldest child belonged to Daisy alone.
She leaned carefully towards the bed, watching the motionless figure of her first-born.
‘Oh, Maggie. Maggie, lass!’
Maggie’s eyes were closed, her hands folded on the top sheet just as when they’d brought her in. One foot dangled from a hoist, and there was a kind of frame under the blankets, lifting the weight of the bedclothes.
Maggie was deathly pale; a large bruise covered the side of her head. One hand was bandaged. She looked as if she was sleeping peacefully …
Daisy brushed away tears, ashamed of her weakness. She had to be strong for Maggie’s sake. She reached for the unbandaged hand, trying with all her will to transfer some of that strength.
‘I wish things were better between us, Maggie,’ she murmured, as if her daughter could hear. And then the words began to pour out; all the things she should have said long since, if only she hadn’t been so pig-headed. Well, if only they both hadn’t. Maggie was too like her.
‘If only Dad hadn’t told you about Ned, my darling … I should have been the one who told you! I always meant to. I was just too scared, I suppose, too ashamed. Yet I know sure as anything you’d never have been ashamed of me!’
Maggie had never forgiven her for it, either. That wretched thought, on top of the whole night’s calamitous events, proved too much. Daisy Bridges laid her head down on the pillow beside her daughter’s and wept as if her heart would break.
‘Don’t take on, Daisy please …’
‘Doctor Hardaker! I didn’t see you.’ She sprang up guiltily. ‘I wish there was something I could do!’
‘Take a break. Go for a walk!’ he urged. ‘The fresh air will do you a power of good. I’ll keep an eye on things here.’ His voice was soothing, calming, exactly what she needed to hear.
She paused as she turned.
‘You’ll call me if …’
‘I’ll call you!’
She nodded curtly and walked briskly away, not looking back.
*
As the ward doors shut Andrew stood at Maggie’s bedside. He felt for the inside of her wrist with his fingers. The faint pulse steadied him, and he straightened the covers. Turning to leave, he was puzzled. His every instinct pulled him back towards the bed.
Something extraordinary had happened – was happening; it caught his breath, almost bowling him over.
He loved her! Why had it taken him so long to recognise it? He’d always loved her … Maggie lay at death’s door, but he was filled with a crazy joy.
‘You’ve come to your senses. I see, Doctor – and about time, too!’ Sister Aspen materialised suddenly at the other side of the bed. Had he spoken out loud? Or had she merely read his thoughts?
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Sister’s eyebrows rose fractionally, and he knew there was no point in denying it. She saw everything that went on in her precious ward, and she’d seen through him.
‘You should tell her how you feel,’ she murmured.
‘But how can I?’ he cried. ‘We don’t even know yet if …’
He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
‘She’s a strong girl,’ Sister answered briskly, ‘and she’s always been a fighter. She’ll pull through, God willing.’
He lifted the chart at the end of the bed. He couldn’t bear to see the pity in Sister’s eyes. It would have undone him completely.
‘She’s involved with someone else – they were on the point of getting married,’ he muttered wretchedly. ‘He was killed in the blast. I can hardly trouble her with my feelings now …’
He returned the chart to the end of the bed, and his pen to his pocket.
He felt the fleeting touch of a hand on his arm. When he looked round, Sister Aspen was staring down at Maggie in a way that would have amazed her if only she’d been awake.
‘Work’s the answer, Andrew,’ she said softly.
‘I’m thinking of joining up,’ he blurted out. ‘I feel I must do something more to help. There’s a war on, I can’t ignore it!
’
‘You’re needed here!’ she retorted sharply. There again, he’d hardly expected an enthusiastic response. She cared about her hospital.
‘I can’t be in two places at once!’ he muttered.
‘I’d advise you to think hard.’
‘I have no choice!’
He stared at Sister Aspen. He couldn’t hide his feelings for Maggie any longer, but the war had given him good reason to get away.
‘Oh, Maggie, my dear!’ For once, Adèle’s guard slipped. She hurried over to the bed and took firm hold of Maggie’s work-worn hand. Her own hands had never known a day’s hard labour in her life, but it didn’t seem to matter.
This was her grandchild, and she loved her dearly. Why should she deny it? Just for this one precious moment, she would deny herself nothing.
She sank down in the chair, oblivious of the curious glances from the rest of the ward, her whole being centred on the woman in this narrow hospital bed.
‘Is she asleep, Silas? Oh, my darling, wake up!’
Silas came to stand at the foot of the bed.
‘Of course she’s not asleep! She’s unconscious – she can’t hear you.’
He might have saved his breath.
‘How much she reminds me of Ned! It’s in every line of her face! Silas, look, can’t you see it, too?’
He sighed, so deeply that Adèle’s head shot up. Her face softened.
Poor Silas!
‘It’s all right, dear. I know we’ve never been able to acknowledge her, but just this once, we’re visiting, why shouldn’t we? She is our grandchild and she’s had an accident.’
All the years they’d missed, the consolation they might have found, taunted her. She averted her head, not wanting Silas to see her tears.
‘I’m past pretence, Adèle.’ He turned to look about the ward.
‘Where’s the blasted doctor? Where’s Hardaker? Is she to be left on her own, unattended?’
‘What are you doing here?’ a low voice enquired.
Daisy was back, gazing at them both, anguish in her face.
Adèle let go of Maggie’s hand.
‘I have every right to be here!’ Silas growled.
How dare this woman put him in the wrong! It made him all the more belligerent, and Daisy, seeing it, was filled with dread.
