She sat back and raised her chin in a much more Aunt Maude look. “Change of life babies. I suppose I should be happy I didn’t have twins like some women.” She put her hands flat on the table and pushed back, standing up. “I want you and Eloise to guide Lucy, to help her grow up independent.” She smiled fondly. “That little one is a handful, and as sharp as a tack.”
Maggie stood and went to Aunt Maude. She wrapped her in a hug. “You are good at what you do,” she said. “And it’s not too late to get out and about.”
Her aunt looked worried. “Do think I’ll be accepted. I know I’ve been hoity-toity at times.”
Maggie laughed and stepped back. “Yes, you have. But we love you anyway, and you can change your ways.” She put on a serious face. “Eloise and I will be happy to keep you on the right track.” She spoiled the moment by laughing.
Aunt Maude laughed with her. “I deserved that.” She took Maggie’s hands in hers. “I know you have that loan at the bank. I’ve heard you and Henry talking. And Mr. Macfee came the other day and told Henry about the status of the loan and what the bank planned to do if the loan isn’t fully paid.” She pinched her lips together and shook her head. “Men. They think they have to run everything.”
Maggie’s pulse accelerated. How dare he talk to Uncle Henry so soon?
“When I got married,” Aunt Maude continued, “my mother gave me cash. She called it the ‘just in case’ money. I never used it.” She squeezed Maggie’s hands. “How much do you owe?”
Maggie told her and she nodded. “I have that much. If you need the money, you come and get it. You pay me back whenever you can. And we won’t say one word to the men.”
Maggie hugged Aunt Maude. “Oh my goodness. Thank you. It’s a relief to know I can get the money if I need it.”
“I am learning women need to stick together, and as Alma Mae said at your father’s funeral, times are changing. Women are doing more. Now, go on with you. Go and put your feet up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Maggie said. “I’ll do that.” And read my letter. “Thank you.”
* * *
Maggie entered her kitchen, took out the letter and placed it in the center of the table. She stared at it. Do I want to open it?
What if they won’t take me?
What if they will take me?
She put a finger on her name. Abruptly she turned and stoked the fire. Her hand on the kettle, she paused. No, not yet. With the kettle on the heat, she crossed one arm over her middle, propped the other elbow on it and pressed her knuckles against her lips. What do I want it to say?
She made tea, let it steep and poured a cup before she returned to the table. All in a rush she grabbed the envelope, opened it and extracted the pages. There were four. She glanced quickly at each one. A letter, some type of rules, a list of requirements for application and a summary of the training methods with a list of textbooks. No acceptance and no rejection.
She flattened the pages in front of her and started to read.
Dear Mrs. Benson, Thank you for inquiring about the Nursing Program.
It asked her to review the material and make an informed decision before formally applying for the program. For the main part, it seemed like a letter that could be sent to anyone. The handwritten note at the bottom changed that.
“Given your time in the VAD you already have nursing skills, and at your age, you may find the program restrictive.” Signed, Gloria. It sounded like this Gloria knew her? And why did they think she’d find it restrictive?
Maggie started reading the second page and the list of documents and requirements needed. The educational requirement of grade ten wasn’t a problem, nor was a reference letter from her clergyman. The other admission requirements might be harder to come by. They wanted health and dental records and a birth certificate. She started to laugh. Would the fact that she’d never needed to see either a doctor or a dentist be enough? As for a birth certificate, there was probably one to be had, but it wasn’t in her possession.
At the bottom were the required textbooks. She had early versions of ‘The Human Body’ by Martin and ‘Text Book on Nursing’ by C. Weeks. A list of nine books followed as collateral reading. She only had two of the collateral list. ‘Maternity, Infant and Childhood’ by Keating and ‘First Aid to the Injured’ by Morton. How much would the rest of the books cost? And would she need updated versions of the others? All of that would take money she didn’t have.
She sat back. The third page had information on daily training, but why read it if she couldn’t afford the textbooks? She gulped her tea and looked at her watch. Turning the pages over, she set her empty cup on them. Time to start supper. She’d look at the rest later.
JM came in shortly after four o’clock and handed her a sheet of paper. “These are the four families who are expecting new additions,” he said. “I suspect you’ll want to visit them. I’ll drive you when you’re ready. Now, what can I do to help with supper? You’ve been too darn busy to cook for us.”
Maggie objected. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I want to.” He pointed at the letter on the table. “Looks like you have mail.”
She glared at it. “It’s one of those good and bad letters.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She picked up the letter. “Not now.” She pointed to the stove. “There’s a stew started. Just keep an eye on it, please.” She took her letter and retreated to her bedroom. Propped against the pillows, her feet stretch out and ankles crossed, she pulled her afghan over her and turned her attention to the third page.
Students work twelve hours shifts, seven days a week.
A few hours off is allowed on Sunday to attend church.
Attendance is required at lectures presented once a week by the doctors.
Following, someone had written in fifteen Rules for Nurses’ Homes. She scanned through them. They covered everything from what to wear in each locale, how to keep their rooms clean, and when to sleep if they were on day or night shift. The note included said that off-duty nurses were not allowed to enter the hospital without permission. That’s a bit odd. And ‘Nurses will not be permitted to talk in the halls or corridors of the hospital institution.’
The note at the bottom said, “Maggie, I ran into Violet the other day. I thought you’d like to know what you are getting into. Gloria”
Gloria? Of course. Gloria from our boarding house. She and Violet had gone to town often with Gloria. Obviously, she’d continued in nursing and was part of the nursing school.
What a mix of information. And a pleasant surprise that she would know someone there. If I go. She stuck the letter in her pocket and found the list JM had given her. Whether she would apply to nursing school or not, she didn’t know. Right now, this evening, she needed to visit those expecting women herself. If JM drove her, he wouldn’t be chasing Ivan and Eugene.
* * *
Two weeks later all known chickenpox patients were on the mend. Boris, up and around and getting restless, had only one small scar left beside his mouth. Lucy, feeling much better, still had spots but wanted to go out and play. Only one other household contracted the chickenpox. The absenteeism at the school had been barely noticeable. Maggie had been too busy to worry much about Ivan and JM.
Harvey returned to the ship and stepped into Boris’s duties. Ivan took Harvey’s place as the cabin boy. Maggie wasn’t happy, but he promised to only go the once. And if he was on the ship, he wasn’t running booze. Maggie, exhausted from late nights, found a book and curled up on her bed. I deserve one day to myself. Before long she set the book aside and crawled under the covers for a nap.
Later, a noise in the kitchen woke her. Her eyes fuzzy and her brain still half asleep she struggled out to the kitchen to find Ivan putting on the kettle. “Welcome home,” she said and yawned. “When did you get into port?”
Ivan gave her a hug and turned away. “I came in last night,” he said. “The Lucy will be into the ha
rbor mid-day.”
That doesn’t make sense. “So, how did you get here?”
“Eugene met the ship offshore and I stayed at the old house until this morning.”
So much for keeping him away from bootlegging. She sat at the table and held her head with both hands. That means he brought in a load of contraband. “I hoped you’d stopped that.”
“Last load,” he said. “We’ve told them. Aubrey will find someone else next time.”
“So it’s gone and you’re done?”
“Not exactly. We have to meet the men from Halifax and pass it off to them.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Maggie’s innards clenched. Could he manage one more run without getting caught? The noises she’d heard in the night rose to the surface. It must have been JM coming in late. I’m surprised he could get up for school this morning. Was he watching Ivan and Eugene? Would he pass on the information? What did he know and what will he do about it? Can I stop this?
“Do you have to go tonight? Can’t Eugene handle it?”
Ivan shook his head. “Not if I want to get paid. It’s the men from up province that pay us.”
“And if I say we don’t need the money? Would you stay home?”
He shook his head. “I can’t let Eugene down. It takes both of us to load and move the cargo.”
“Oh, Ivan.” Maggie went to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Be careful. Be fast. And get back here safely.”
Chapter Eighteen
Our lifelong dreams turn into joy,
Wealth and abounding peace,
When all loved ones are around us
And sorrows are made to cease.
Maggie prepared dinner as usual and sat at the table with Ivan and JM. Every nerve in her body stretched tight. If she opened her mouth to talk, she’d scream. Men and their damn rules. And their damn rule breaking.
“This casserole is delicious,” JM said. “And the blood sausage adds that extra to the meal.”
“Thanks,” Maggie said and managed a thin smile.
“How did your trip go?” JM asked Ivan. “Now that you’ve been to sea, do you still want to be a sailor?”
“From what the crew said, the run was flawless. And I liked it.” He grinned. “But I do want to get my navigation papers. Being cabin boy on the ship is hard work.”
JM carried the conversation, hopefully attributing her lack of response to exhaustion.
“I got a short nap. But I think I’ll need to be early to bed for a few nights if I want to get caught up on my sleep.” As usual, they finished the meal with tea.
Maggie started the dishes and Ivan came and helped her. JM settled at the table to mark papers. And the evening wound down in slow motion. Ivan reading his navigation notes. Maggie knitting. And minimal conversation from any of them.
Finally, Ivan stretched and yawned. “I’m for bed. The bunk on the ship is narrow, hard and it took me the whole trip to get used to it. Really looking forward to a good night’s sleep in my own bed.” He glanced at the clock. “Nine-thirty. Time for me to head up.” And he followed his words with action.
Half an hour later, JM marked his last paper. “I think I’ll follow Ivan’s example. Goodnight.” And he put the papers in his case, put the case by the door and headed upstairs.
Left alone, Maggie continued knitting. I should go to bed. She knit another row. I won’t sleep if I do. I might as well knit. And how will they get out of the house if I’m here knitting? She continued until tiredness won. But even though she set aside the knitting and turned out the light, she stayed sitting in the kitchen. She dozed. Her head jerked and she woke, startled by a noise.
She strained her ears to catch the sound. A scrabbling sound. A thump. What? She peered out the window. A shadow came around the back of the house, crossed the driveway and slunk toward the road. Ivan. He’s gone out his window.
But JM is upstairs. Maybe the boys are safe tonight. Unless Johnny Mossman is watching them. Five minutes ticked by. More scrabbling, another thump and another shadow, this one in dark clothing. JM used Ivan’s route out.
He moved silently toward his car. He’d parked it at the top of the drive facing the road. In a moment she found out why. The vehicle rolled through shadow and moonlight, passed the window and turned onto the road. He’s put it in neutral and let it roll. She heard the engine start and when the sound faded, she stood. She wouldn’t sleep. But she might as well lie down.
In her room, she slid under the afghan fully dressed. I need to be ready to get up when they come back. In spite of her worry, she dozed, but images of Ivan running from men with raised batons, sitting behind jail bars, and drowning in rivers of whiskey troubled her sleep.
* * *
Later, how much later she didn’t know, a clatter in the kitchen roused her. She stumbled out of bed. Ivan and Eugene sat at either end of the kitchen table. Their faces pasty white, their eyes large, they turned toward her. Neither said a word. The clock read two am.
“What?” She said. A dark line trailed down Ivan’s forehead and cheek. Her heart nigh on stopped and she rushed to him. “What happened?” She pushed his hair out of the blood.
“They were waiting,” Ivan said.
“We were almost caught,” said Eugene.
The story rattled out of them in disjointed bits.
...bootleggers had guns
...officers in five cars
...we ran
...tramped on the gas
...fell and hit my head
...Ivan fell into the car
...shooting behind us
...Johnny Mossman
...and JM
Maggie got a clean rag from the summer kitchen and a basin of water. She washed the gouge on Ivan’s forehead and pulled the cut closed as much as she could with a sticking plaster. “You’re lucky,” she said, “but you’ll have a nice scar to go with your story. Provided you ever get to tell it.” They both knew that no one admitted to dealing in whiskey, and no one told any stories that might give them or their friends away.
She pieced together what had happened. “You two went there with your cargo and loaded it into two different cars. There were two men with each car. You finished and the other fellows started their cars ready to leave. Am I right so far?”
The boys nodded. Ivan pulled out money and handed it to her. “That should pay the last of the loan,” he said.
“Thanks, Ivan.” She looked at the cash. Was taking money from an illegal booze delivery smart? She sighed. Smart or not, she needed to take it. And with the loan paid, the store goods were free and clear and a new source of money.
“Now, before you reached your car, five other cars surrounded the Halifax cars? Right? But they didn’t block you? When you ran for the car, Ivan slipped and bumped his head. But you think you got clear away?”
Ivan nodded.
“And you think you saw JM?”
“Pretty sure.”
Her body tensed and her stomach soured. “Then it wasn’t an accident your car didn’t get blocked. But boys, you did not get clear away. I’m sure JM would have recognized you and I suspect there will be a knock on the door sometime soon.” She dumped the water from the basin, wrung out the cloth and put on the kettle. Whatever happens now is out of my hands. I can only pray they get off lightly.
* * *
The sky slid from black to gray as the sun prepared to rise on another day. The boys were upstairs. Whether they were sleeping or not, she didn’t know. With an afghan wrapped around her, she sat at the table, nursing a mug of tea. What would we do without tea? We resort to a pot full for the good and the bad days and offer it to all comers” She sighed and relief warred with worry. Tomorrow, I can make the final payment to the bank. And I don’t need Aunt Maude’s money. Ivan and I did it on our own. Small satisfaction in view of what is about to happen. And I still don’t have much of a job.
She crossed her arms and hugged the afghan against her body.
But I didn’t give in and marry the first man that asked. Whether she would ever marry again, she didn’t know. I’ll take things one day at a time.
A car came down the road and turned into her driveway. She looked out. JM. He pulled in beside Eugene’s car. The engine stopped. A car door slammed. Footsteps on the gavel. And JM entered the house. Maggie stood, letting the blanket drop to the chair.
The man that came through the door bore little resemblance to the JM she’d grown used to. No cowlick. No glasses. No limp. Taller than he usually looked. And most of all no warm greeting on his face. It looked chiseled in stone. No dimple. She shivered and ran her gaze over him, head to toe. The fitted dark shirt and the slim pants barely concealed the muscled body he’d hidden beneath baggy trousers and button-up shirts for the past two months. Maggie swallowed. Hard. Oh, my. Her reaction rippled through her like a stream over a waterfall.
“Where are they?”
“Upstairs. I can get them to come down.”
He strode across the kitchen. “Never mind. This is between me and them.” He took the stairs two at a time and thumped on Ivan’s door. “Ivan. Eugene.” The command would have had a seasoned salt shaking in his boots.
Standing at the bottom of the stairs, she heard the door open. “Sit.” JM’s command echoed in the hall. “You two are in serious trouble with the law.” And the door closed, shutting off her access to the words.
Maggie paced, into the dining room, back to the lower hall, moving constantly until JM came back down the stairs. The steel driving him when he’d arrived had faded. Whatever anger he’d carried seemed to have been spent. She wheeled toward him and stood, silent and waiting for a verdict. Oh heavens, this man made her laugh, quickened her breath and lied to her. Had he arrested her brother? “Will they be fined? Go to jail?”
The Left Behind Bride Page 18
