A Mother's Grace

by Rosie Goodwin

  Rising quickly, she made for the door but his voice stopped her once again when he asked, ‘Did you have any more children, Grace?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, I had a daughter … but she died. Just the one now, a son … We called him Aiden.’ And then she slipped quietly away.

  In December, there was yet another influx of patients and as the ambulances arrived the nurses and the VADs stood on the steps waiting to tell the stretcher-bearers which wards to take them to.

  Half a dozen had already gone in when yet another stretcher stopped in front of Grace.

  ‘Another one with burns,’ the stretcher-bearer told her and as Grace opened her mouth to tell him where to go she gasped with shock. It was Dylan lying on the stretcher and he looked in a bad way.

  Seeing her distress one of the nuns hurried to her side to ask, ‘Is everything all right, Nurse Penlynn?’

  ‘Th-this man is my husband,’ Grace stuttered.

  ‘Oh dear.’ Taking control of the situation, the nun quickly told the man where the patient was to go, then gripping Grace’s elbow she told her firmly, ‘And you can come to the kitchen with me. You’ve had a nasty shock. A good strong cup of sweet tea is what you need.’

  Grace’s legs seemed to have developed a life of their own as she followed the elderly nun but once in the kitchen she began to pace.

  ‘I ought to go and find out how bad my husband is!’

  ‘Not until you’ve drunk this and given the doctor time to look at him,’ the nun insisted.

  So Grace sat down and drank the tea as quickly as she could.

  Ten minutes later she entered the burns ward and the sister there raised her eyebrows enquiringly. ‘Hello, I didn’t think you were on my ward today,’ she said, glancing at the staff rota on her desk.

  ‘I’m not.’ Grace’s eyes were fixed on the curtains drawn around one of the beds. ‘But the man who was just admitted here is my husband.’

  ‘Oh!’ The sister looked alarmed. ‘The doctor is in with him now … but I feel I should warn you, he has severe burns and it doesn’t look good.’

  ‘I … I see. I’ll wait to speak to the doctor, if I may.’

  ‘Of course you may.’ The sister patted her arm sympathetically and sighed. When was this terrible war going to end?

  Aunt Gertie and the Llewelyns were shocked when Grace told them the news that evening.

  ‘We ought to let our Bronwen know,’ Cerys said quietly. ‘Especially if he’s as bad as you say he is.’

  Grace nodded numbly. ‘I’ll go and see them.’

  ‘No, cariad, there’s no need for you to do that. I’ll go,’ Cerys volunteered. She knew how vicious Bronwen could be with Grace. ‘I’ll get Aled to walk me there this very evening. They’re bound to want to see him as soon as they can just in case …’ Her words died away but they all knew what she meant. Just in case he died, which was a very real possibility at the moment. The doctor had gently explained that, as well as the burns to his skin, his lungs were badly affected by the mustard gas.

  ‘Thank you,’ Grace said quietly, then calling Aiden to her she set out for home.

  As they walked she tried to explain to him as gently as she could what had happened and he stared up at her with frightened eyes. ‘Does that mean that me dad will be coming home?’

  ‘He might be … if he gets better.’ Grace found that she couldn’t lie to him and was dismayed to see him start to blink nervously. He hadn’t done that for so long now that it broke her heart to see him doing it again.

  Over the next few days, Griffen and Bronwen were almost constantly at Dylan’s bedside and Grace kept out of their way, only visiting him when they were gone. And then one day, when she had popped into the ward to check on him before going home, he suddenly opened his eyes and looked at her.

  A doctor came running and hustled her out and minutes later he joined her to tell her, ‘He’s fully conscious now.’

  ‘Does that mean he’ll recover?’

  He pursed his lips and sighed. ‘I really couldn’t say. It’s all in God’s hands. We can help the wounds on the outside to heal but who knows what’s happening on the inside? What I will say is, if you are willing to have him back at home when he’s slightly better, and nurse him yourself, he probably stands a better chance. There’s no place like home when you’re ill.’

  Grace’s heart sank. If she did what he suggested it would mean giving up her job. But then Dylan was her husband.

  ‘Very well,’ she told him. ‘I’ll do that.’

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  ‘I’ll be sorry to lose you, Grace,’ the Reverend Mother told her when she handed in her notice later that week.

  ‘I shall be sorry to go,’ Grace admitted. ‘But with things as they are …’

  ‘I quite understand.’ The nun smiled at her kindly. ‘Dylan is your husband and it’s right that you should put him first. May God be with you, my child, and your husband.’

  Grace left the office with a heavy heart. She would have to tell Aiden that Dylan would be coming home soon – she hadn’t dared to as yet but it was only fair that he should be given warning.

  Pausing in the corridor, she rubbed her hand across her eyes, seeing again the look in Dylan’s eyes when she had first gone to see him in the ward. He had stared at her as if he hated the sight of her and that look had struck terror into her heart. Of course, she sympathised with the position he was in. His hands and face were horrifically burned and the doctors had warned that his insides could be just as bad, but it was as if Dylan thought it was all her fault. With a sigh, she pulled herself together and made her way to the doctor’s office to make the arrangements for Dylan to return home. The doctor had promised that one of the medical staff would visit regularly to check on his progress and Grace prayed that it wouldn’t be Luke. They had avoided each other as much as possible since he had been at the hospital but it was inevitable that their paths would cross from time to time, and each time they did it only brought home to Grace just how much she still loved him. She was terrified that if Dylan saw Luke and Aiden together he would guess that he was the boy’s father. But she would have to cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, she must concentrate on getting her husband home.

  Soon after, she returned to the ward with all the arrangements in place. She would work her week’s notice, then the following day an ambulance would deliver Dylan back home. She realised that his mother would probably be a frequent visitor and that was yet another thing to dread. But Grace couldn’t see how she could deny her access to her son, so somehow she would have to try to make the best of it. They all would.

  She was just about to leave that evening when Luke hurried towards her in the foyer and she felt the familiar flutter in her stomach at the sight of him.

  ‘Ah, Gra— Mrs Penlynn,’ he corrected himself. ‘I’m told that your husband will be coming home to you shortly.’

  ‘Yes, doctor,’ she answered woodenly.

  He nodded, avoiding her eyes. ‘Right, I’m sure you will be more than capable of dressing his wounds. You’ve certainly had plenty of practice, but I just wanted to let you know that one of us will visit you at least twice a week to check on his progress and it goes without saying that if you have any concerns whatsoever you only have to let us know and someone will be there as soon as possible.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She managed a weak smile before hurrying on her way but she could feel his eyes burning into her back.

  Later that evening when she and Aiden had had their evening meal she told him, ‘I have something to tell you, sweetheart.’

  He looked up at her with his amazing blue eyes. ‘Really? Is it something nice? Something to do with Christmas?’

  ‘N-not exactly.’ She licked her dry lips. ‘The thing is, your daddy will be coming home soon.’

  She watched his face fall but forced herself to go on cheerfully, ‘I’m afraid Daddy got hurt, his poor face and hands have been badly burned so we’ll have to look after him between
us until he gets better, won’t we?’

  ‘Can’t they do that in the hospital?’

  Grace swallowed. ‘He is in the hospital at the moment but you know they really need as many beds as they can get because of all the poor men who are being injured in the war, so they are sending as many home as possible, and Daddy is one of them.’

  He nodded, his face solemn, then went back to the jigsaw he had been playing with although Grace could see he wasn’t happy with the news at all. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. He’d been so happy while Dylan was away and now she could only pray that Dylan would try harder with the lad.

  Just over a week later, Grace stood at the door of the cottage to welcome Dylan home when the ambulance pulled up outside. She had cleaned the cottage from top to bottom and there was a cheery fire roaring in the grate. She’d also managed to manoeuvre Aiden’s bed downstairs so that Dylan wouldn’t have to try and climb the stairs. Aiden could sleep with her for the time being.

  The two ambulance men carefully carried the stretcher inside and helped Dylan into the bed she had made up with fresh sheets before asking, ‘Anything else we can do for you, missus?’

  ‘No thank you, we shall be fine now.’ She smiled and saw them to the door before turning back to Dylan and saying cheerfully, ‘Welcome home. I’ve got a nice pot of tea all ready for you and I’ve done us a stew for dinner, just the way you like it. We’ll have it when Aiden gets home from school, shall we?’

  She was tucking the blankets around him as she spoke and all the time his eyes were boring into her.

  ‘H-have you … missed me?’ His voice came out as a croak. His throat was burned too and she could only imagine how painful it must be for him to talk.

  ‘Of course we have,’ she assured him lightly, avoiding his eyes. ‘But now let me go and get you that drink.’

  She was just pouring the tea into the cups when Mrs Gower marched in and went to stand at the side of the bed.

  ‘I see you’re back then,’ she said rather unnecessarily. ‘And how are you feeling?’

  ‘How … would you expect me … to feel?’ He raised his bandaged hand in the direction of his face.

  She shrugged. ‘Lucky! At least you came back,’ she stated in her usual forthright way. ‘That’s more than can be said for most o’ the men an’ boys from the village, God bless ’em. There’s telegrams arrivin’ for their families thick an’ fast.’

  Dylan glared and turned his head away as she pottered over to Grace who had added another cup to the table. She filled them all and handed one to Mrs Gower before carrying one over to Dylan. He took it awkwardly and sipped at it, keeping his eyes on the two women. They seemed to have become close during the time he’d been away and he was none too pleased about it.

  ‘Now, you know if I can help in any way you only have to ask,’ Mrs Gower told Grace and the younger woman smiled at her gratefully.

  ‘Thank you but I’m sure I’ll manage.’

  ‘Hey! I am in the room you … know?’ Dylan snapped and started a bout of coughing which resulted in his tea sloshing all over the clean sheets.

  Mrs Gower rolled her eyes. From the little she’d already seen of him, poor Grace was going to have her work cut out, but then he’d turned into a right nasty piece of work before he left so there was no change there.

  Aiden cautiously inched into the room that afternoon after school and as Dylan’s eyes settled on him he frowned. The lad had grown, and filled out an’ all from what he could see of it.

  ‘Come and say welcome home to your dad,’ Grace encouraged, but before he got the chance Dylan butted in.

  ‘I ain’t his dad! … An’ it’s about time he knew … it!’

  ‘Dylan, stop it!’ Grace was horrified as Aiden stared at the man in the bed. She had always known that Aiden would find out one day but surely it needn’t have been done so callously?

  ‘Why don’t you pop next door and see if Mrs Gower needs you to collect her eggs for her,’ Grace suggested, trying to keep her voice light.

  Aiden hovered uncertainly before shooting off like a bullet from a gun and when he was gone, Grace turned back to Dylan, her hands on her hips and her eyes blazing. ‘Did you have to tell him quite so heartlessly?’ she spat.

  He sneered. ‘He … had to know he’s a bastard … sometime!’

  Grace clenched her hands into fists as she fought to control her temper. She could take whatever Dylan cared to throw at her but she’d be damned if she’d let him hurt Aiden. He was the innocent in all this and didn’t deserve it.

  ‘I’ll do all I can for you,’ she told him quietly. ‘I’ll nurse you, wash you, feed you or do whatever you need doing, but if you ever speak to my son like that again I shall pack our bags and we’ll be gone. Do you understand?’

  Dylan looked slightly taken aback at her reaction. It seemed she’d gained some confidence in the time he’d been away but he’d soon knock that out of her. Although his hands were heavily bandaged, his fingers were free, so reaching out he spitefully pinched the skin on her arm making her cry out as a bruise instantly began to appear.

  ‘I’m master … in me own home,’ he breathed and with a sigh of disgust Grace turned about to go and fetch fresh sheets as she rubbed at her arm. He’d only been back for a matter of hours but already she could see how it was going to be and she dreaded the future.

  ‘What did he mean? What he said earlier about him not being me dad?’ Aiden asked that night in bed as he cuddled into his mother’s side.

  Grace swallowed the tears that were threatening before she said gently, ‘Before I married your … Dylan, I loved somebody else but we couldn’t be together so I married Dylan instead.’ She knew that she had no alternative but to be honest with the child. If she didn’t tell him no doubt Bronwen or somebody else would and it was far better that he heard it from her.

  He lay silent for a moment, digesting what she had told him then he surprised her when he said quietly, ‘I’m glad he ain’t me dad. I don’t like him.’

  ‘Shush now and try to sleep,’ Grace soothed and shortly after his gentle snores echoed around the room.

  But there was no sleep for her as she realised what a terrible mistake she had made. Already she had noticed the nervous tic returning to Aiden’s eyes and her heart bled for him. If only she hadn’t agreed to have Dylan home. But it was done now.

  She had no sooner got Aiden off to school the next morning than the kitchen door opened letting in a blast of icy air and Bronwen stormed in glaring at Grace with contempt.

  ‘I’ve come to change me son’s dressings,’ she stated. ‘I don’t trust you to do it without hurting him!’

  ‘It’s already done and I’ve changed his sheets,’ Grace informed her coldly, pointing to the pile of soiled bandages she had placed to soak in a bucket, but the woman merely swept past her to lay a gentle hand on her son’s arm.

  ‘How are you feeling, boyo?’ she asked softly as if Grace wasn’t even in the room. ‘I was saying to your tad, you should have come home to us and let me nurse you.’

  ‘I’m quite capable,’ Grace snapped. ‘I’ve certainly had enough practice while I was working up at the hospital.’

  But Bronwen was crooning to Dylan and completely ignored her.

  A few nights later, following a visit from one of the doctors, Aiden asked her, ‘Are we going to have a Christmas tree this year, Mam?’

  Grace blinked and paused in the act of rolling the pastry for the pie she was making for their evening meal. Dylan was asleep. She’d noticed that while he was awake Aiden rarely spoke.

  ‘I’m so sorry, darling. I hadn’t given it a thought,’ she admitted. She’d been so busy looking after Dylan that she hadn’t realised Christmas was almost upon them. Now, though, she was reluctant to spend what wages she had managed to save on such an extravagance. Every penny would have to count from now on. ‘I’ll tell you what,’ she said brightly, ‘why don’t we go into the woods and cut some holly tomorrow after school in
stead? We can dot it about and it will look just as festive as a tree.’

  Aiden looked disappointed but nodded in agreement. And she decided that no matter how tight money was, she would buy him a small present to open on Christmas morning. Bronwen was an all too regular visitor now so she could pop into the market one day while she was there and leave her to look after Dylan. She found that she was looking forward to getting out of the house for a while.

  When the doctor made his next visit and examined Dylan he looked grave.

  ‘I think he’s got fluid on his lungs,’ he told Grace. ‘And his throat is still badly blistered. It doesn’t appear to have improved at all. Is he managing to eat anything?’

  ‘Not a lot,’ Grace admitted. ‘Although I do try to tempt him.’ She glanced towards Dylan as she spoke. He was almost skeletal now.

  ‘Then I’ll leave you this medicine. It might help his appetite.’ He dived into his bag and handed her a small bottle.

  Grace thanked him and once he’d gone she fetched a spoon and poured some of the medicine onto it. Dylan took it meekly enough but then suddenly lashed out catching her a glancing blow on her eye.

  ‘What was that for?’ Grace screeched as she reeled away from the bed. Dylan seemed to be getting more violent towards her with every day that passed. She supposed it was frustration and tried to make allowances for him but it was getting more and more difficult.

  ‘I … felt like it,’ he gasped.

  With tears in her eyes Grace fled outside and stood shivering. She had thought it was hard working at the hospital but that had been nothing compared to her life now. Dylan didn’t even tell her when he wanted to use the bedpan anymore and she seemed to spend half her time washing him and the soiled sheets. It was so cold that if she hung them out they simply froze and flapped stiffly on the line so she had no alternative but to string lines up and down the length of the kitchen to dry them there, which she knew he hated. Some Christmas this is going to be, she thought glumly as she gingerly raised her hand to her swollen eye. It was beginning to close already and she knew she would have a right shiner on her by the next morning. But I’m as trapped as a fly in a spider’s web, she thought sadly. The only blessing was that Aiden hadn’t been there to see what had just happened.