Christmas for the District Nurses

by Annie Groves

  ‘How was that?’ asked Clarrie.

  Harry laughed, remembering now. ‘It was when I won that big fight, just before the war. Edie came to cheer me on, and brought her friends. Afterwards I was approached by Major Jimmy Ingham, who wanted me to think about boxing for the army – and Charles was with him.’

  Mary grinned. ‘And the rest is history. So don’t feel we’ve done you a favour, it’s actually the other way around, and this is the least we can do to thank you. We thought you might fancy a bit of privacy now you’re a married couple.’

  Harry smiled across at Edith. ‘I’m sure we can make the most of that.’

  ‘Harry!’ Edith pretended to be annoyed, but was obviously delighted with the extravagant gift. The Banham home was the most welcoming possible, but nobody could claim it provided much privacy.

  She carefully put the headed paper back into the envelope, thinking that she would have to pack a bag for the occasion. She hoped she had enough smart clothes; she had assumed she would spend the next few days in her new in-laws’ house and wouldn’t need to dress up to the nines. She would slip away upstairs as soon as the fuss died down. She realised that it still meant they would be back here to celebrate Christmas, which she didn’t want to miss. She had brought over a few of her nicest outfits for Christmas Day, so they would just have to do for the posh hotel. What an idea – to stay at such a place with Harry. A thrill ran through her.

  So her thoughts were occupied when the sound of the front door shutting once more reached her. Absently she wondered who it could be; all the nurses who were coming had now arrived, and so had Harry’s old school friends. Perhaps it was someone from his old workplace, the hardware shop.

  When the latecomer strode into the room she was completely unprepared. Everyone turned to look at the stranger, a short man in army uniform, with dark hair just like Edith’s. He fixed his challenging gaze on her as the room fell silent.

  ‘Frankie,’ she breathed.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The moment seemed to stretch on for ever. Then her brother spoke.

  ‘Very nice, I see.’ He kept his voice polite but she could hear the sneer in it. ‘No food shortages around here, then.’

  Edith gave herself a shake and attempted to play the host. ‘This is my brother Frankie,’ she announced to everyone. ‘Come and have something to eat. Harry will fetch you a drink, won’t you, Harry?’ She shot a meaningful look at her new husband, who nodded.

  ‘Coming right up,’ he said easily, and only Edith caught the note of curious concern.

  Frankie allowed himself to be steered to the table, still loaded with all manner of treats, but turned and stared at the man. ‘Is that him, then?’ he asked Edith, not bothering to keep his voice down. ‘He’s the unlucky bastard you snared, is he?’

  Any idea that her brother had come to give them his good wishes and even those of the rest of her family was firmly dispelled. Edith sighed inwardly. She had known they wouldn’t give the wedding their blessing. They had no interest in anything that might make her happy.

  They had never understood why she wanted so desperately to be a nurse, and had mocked her while she worked hard to pass her school certificate, which none of the other Gillespies had ever bothered with. Ever since her big sister died she had been driven to help others who were sick, but she had been too young to explain that. They despised her efforts, always claiming she wanted to get above herself. Frankie had come to freeload on the food, that much was obvious as he heaped his plate, and her best course of action would be to minimise the damage and get him out of here as soon as he had finished.

  Harry handed his new brother-in-law a pint of beer, which Frankie downed almost in one go. ‘I’ll fetch another, shall I,’ Harry said, more as a statement than a question, and headed into the scullery where Stan had set up a miraculous keg of beer, somehow obtained by the ARP station and brought round as a present. Joe was refilling his own glass.

  ‘That the brother, then?’

  ‘One of them,’ Harry said grimly. ‘First time I’ve seen him, or any of her family come to that. I’d have happily kept it that way, and she didn’t think any of them would come, but he could spell trouble.’

  ‘You get back in there and enjoy the party – don’t let him ruin it for Edie,’ Joe urged him. ‘I’ll keep an eye on things. Here. Take this pint.’

  Harry stepped back into the main kitchen, recognising the expression on Frankie’s face. It was close to how those ignorant lads had looked at him – a mixture of contempt and disgust. Still, so far their guest had kept a civil tongue in his head.

  ‘Much obliged I’m sure,’ Frankie said now, accepting the drink and gulping down half of it. Then he demolished several greedy mouthfuls of food. ‘Any chance of some more of this?’ He waved his plate at his sister. Edith leant back a little to avoid anything splashing her beautiful pale blue dress.

  ‘Of course.’ She smiled politely, realising he was showing her up and enjoying doing so.

  Alice stepped in. ‘I’ll do it. More corned beef and pickles, is it? It’ll give you two more time to talk.’ She took the plate, ignoring Frankie’s tactless stare.

  ‘Is that your friend? She’s a bit of all right, isn’t she?’ Frankie sank the rest of the bitter and looked around for another refill.

  ‘She’s my bridesmaid,’ Edith said brusquely. The thought of Alice looking favourably on her brother was as remote as Mars and she didn’t see any point in giving him false hope.

  Frankie jutted his chin at his sister. ‘I’m not good enough for her, is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘I said nothing of the kind,’ said Edith briskly. She told herself she shouldn’t be surprised at his reaction; Frankie had always had the ability to take offence at the tiniest imagined slight.

  ‘Nah, come to think of it she looks a bit on the snooty side for me.’ It didn’t stop him accepting the refilled plate from Alice, as his gaze wandered around the room and came to rest on Clarrie. ‘What about her? You know what they say about girls with red hair.’ He leered across the mound of food, his eyes a little more unfocused after the alcohol.

  ‘Drop it, Frankie,’ Edith said. ‘I know why you’re here and it isn’t to wish me well. Eat that and then bugger off.’

  ‘Charming. So you’ve still got a filthy mouth on you when it suits you.’ Frankie didn’t bother to pause in his eating as he spoke, and again Edith stepped back to avoid being sprayed with food. ‘Bet they don’t think you talk like that at your la-di-da nurses’ home. Just think of all the things I could tell them about you.’

  Edith could have kicked herself – she was getting drawn into the old arguments all over again. She didn’t respond to his comment, instead looking away.

  ‘Couldn’t you get a proper man, then?’ he went on. ‘Had to settle for a reject, did yer? Now I come to look at him closely, he ain’t got more than one working arm, has he? And all those marks on his face. Messed him up good and proper, they have. Better hope everything else is in full working order, eh?’ He raised his eyebrows in a disgusting insinuation. ‘Or is he all wonky down there too?’

  ‘Get out, Frankie.’ Edith had lost what little patience she had. ‘He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be, that much I do know.’

  ‘Oho, touched a nerve, have I?’ He set down his plate and swaggered in front of her, as the conversations around them petered out.

  ‘Just leave,’ she said. ‘Leave now.’

  Frankie laughed unpleasantly. ‘Don’t like me speaking the truth, is that it? My poor big sister had to go and pick someone who can’t do the necessary? Not firing on all cylinders below the belt, is that it?’

  Edith winced and noticed Alice doing the same but, before anyone could say anything, Harry was across the room like a flash.

  ‘You heard your sister. You’d better get out.’

  Frankie sneered up at his much taller brother-in-law. ‘What, you going to make me?’

  Harry took no time to consider, bu
t reacted on instinct – throwing a powerful punch with his good arm and connecting with Frankie’s nose. Frankie went down like a sack of potatoes.

  For a moment nobody said a thing. Edith’s hands were over her mouth, her eyes horrified. Alice stared as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened.

  Then Charles started to clap. ‘Well done, Banham. Worthy of your championship bout.’ He smiled in admiration. ‘No point in talking to some chaps – they’ll never catch on. Sorry, Edith. Don’t want to ruin your special day, but he got what he deserved.’

  Harry staggered with relief, having feared he had indeed ruined the party. Now Edith looked at him with careful approval. ‘Are you all right?’

  Harry sighed but then straightened his stance. ‘Yes, it’s him who’ll have the sore head tomorrow.’

  ‘And a broken nose,’ added Alice, with her professional judgement.

  Charles nodded. ‘That’s as maybe. But I for one am glad you’ve still got what it takes, Harry, wounds or no wounds.’ He spun round to address the sea of faces. ‘Some of you might not know this, but Harry here had one of the great secret weapons in the boxing ring. Everyone expected him to deliver his knockout blows with his right hand. Of course some boxers are southpaws, but word soon gets round. The great thing about Harry Banham always was,’ and he paused, ‘he could hit with either.’

  Joe looked across at his brother and then at Charles and grinned at both of them. ‘That was it. We never spoke about it – didn’t want the local papers to catch on. But it looks like you can still deliver the decisive punch when it counts.’ He stepped forward. ‘Charles, let’s you and me see this gentleman out. No need for the groom to bother himself any further.’

  Charles nodded, pitching up his sleeves. But as he did so he turned to Harry. ‘I’ll make sure Major Ingham hears the good news. Jimmy will want to know, be in no doubt.’ Then he and Joe each took one side of Frankie’s still unconscious body and lifted him up and then out.

  ‘I’ll just go to check that nose.’ Alice followed them. Even if Frankie had done his best to spoil his sister’s wedding feast, that didn’t mean she could let his injuries go untreated.

  Edith wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. How typical of Frankie to turn up and taunt her and, far worse, to say such unforgiveable things to Harry. She didn’t blame her new husband for lashing out. To have gone through what he had, only to have some uppity, obnoxious squirt insult him like that. She hoped some of the guests weren’t too shocked.

  Gazing around, she realised that most of them had taken it in their stride. Of course, they’d been used to Harry in his fighting days, and she knew that not all of his fights had taken place inside the ring. If there had been trouble, people used to call on Harry. Mary looked a little surprised, but that was all.

  Flo pressed a glass of shandy into her hand. ‘Put it behind you, my love,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry your brother got thumped, but he asked for it. Now let’s all raise a glass to Edith and Harry – and may their marriage be a happy one!’

  Even though it was close to midnight and the room had an enormous window, it was still warm. Harry thought of how freezing his barracks had been that first year, and then the many hospitals he’d been in since. Even last night back in his old bedroom, you couldn’t have called it anything but slightly chilly. No, this was the height of luxury all right.

  The bedside light with its ornate and tasselled shade was still on, and he propped himself on his better arm to turn to gaze at Edith. She had fallen asleep on her side and her dark curls were spread across the crisp white pillow, her pale shoulder rising and falling with each breath. It hardly seemed real, spending the first night of their marriage together in a room such as this.

  Not that he would have minded where he spent it, as long as he was with her. Harry had thought for a long time that this would never happen at all, that he wouldn’t make it through or, even if he did, she wouldn’t want him. He wouldn’t have blamed her. He had prepared himself for the worst, in those dark days, weeks, months when he had drifted in and out of consciousness. If she were with him, he would have been happy in a tent. The prospect of having her to stay at his parents’ house had seemed about as good as he could possibly have hoped for.

  This place was in a completely different league. He’d always known that Major Ingham and Captain Charles were from a very different background, and Mary obviously found such things completely normal, but to have a room like this, and all to themselves … you could fit the whole upper floor of Jeeves Street into it. It was madness. Yet Harry loved it, the sense that they were making a new start in such a different place, even if it was only for a couple of nights.

  Beside them on the beautifully carved bedside table stood a silver bucket of ice, condensation still dripping down its sides, with the green glass neck of an empty champagne bottle peeping above the top edge. He and Edith had laughed as they’d tried to drink it. They’d only ever had it once before, on that fateful night when he’d won his title and Major Ingham had seen him fight. That night, just as now, Charles had bought the bottle. Edith had sneezed and sneezed, and announced that – though it was a lovely thought – she really preferred shandy.

  Then they had set aside their glasses and made the most of this unexpected and luxurious privacy. How different to make love on such a bed, with none of the furtive hurrying that they’d had to cope with before. Edith was more beautiful than ever, even though she had been shy about how skinny she was becoming. He didn’t care.

  They’d finished the strange-tasting fizz and then, despite herself, Edith had dozed off. Harry was reluctant to put the light out, wanting to prolong the moments that he could drink in the sight of her, for once not rushing around, but happily sleeping after the best evening either of them could remember. He didn’t want to lean over and turn off the lamp in case she woke up.

  Slowly he moved so that he could lie on his back, one arm behind his head, and stared up in the subtle light to the elaborately carved ceiling above them. It was the absolute opposite to the ceiling back at home, with its telltale lines in the plaster from where someone had trodden too heavily in the attic, and the dent from where he’d let loose his catapult as a boy. He’d tried to blame Joe, but neither of his parents had believed him. Then there was the old mark from where he’d stood on his bed and practised blowing smoke rings. He still couldn’t do them.

  His mind turned to the events of the afternoon. He’d been in his element, with everyone he loved around him, teasing him, saying he’d have to knuckle down now, while he could see Edith’s friends were delighted for her. Then, how swiftly it had all changed when her brother had arrived. He had thought that maybe she was exaggerating when she used to say she didn’t get along with her family; it was so unlike his own background. Now he understood why, if Frankie was typical of the Gillespies.

  He couldn’t imagine Joe or Mattie saying something like that to him. They might bicker at every opportunity, but to deliberately insult your own sister on her wedding day – it was beyond belief. And as for what he’d implied about Harry …

  Harry winced at the memory. The trouble was, it was too close to his own fears. He had wondered for a long time if he’d ever be able to perform again. Then, when he could sense his old energy returning, he’d worried that Edith would find him repulsive because he looked different.

  Tonight had settled some of those concerns. She certainly didn’t seem to find him repulsive. She’d been every bit as loving as he’d remembered her, and he had returned to the memory of her many, many times as he lay on his sickbed. She was his comfort, his rock, his joy. He should put aside those old worries and be thankful that he’d met such a woman who wanted to be with him for life. He’d been relieved beyond measure that his physical fitness hadn’t deserted him when it counted. It had been on his mind for far too long.

  He had to take care of his hand, though. He’d connected with Frankie’s nose with great force and had bruised his knuckles, not that he’d admitte
d to it. He smiled wryly to himself. His brother-in-law was going to have a lovely purple face for Christmas.

  But maybe he shouldn’t have hit him. That had been in the heat of the moment. Joe wouldn’t have done something like that – he’d have talked to the man, told him to leave and held firm until he’d gone. Not that his brother had said so in as many words, but Harry could always tell when Joe didn’t approve of what he’d done.

  It was because it was too close to what Harry had dreaded. Also, he knew, he just knew, that other men thought the same when they looked at him. In their eyes he was washed-up, a failure by his mid-twenties. His career was over before it had begun, and he looked freakish. Would people judge Edith for sticking by him? He couldn’t bear that. Perhaps he shouldn’t have married her after all. What if she was humouring him? Or what if he had condemned her to a lifetime of being pointed at, of people whispering behind their backs, speculating about what she saw in him, if she was ripe for the picking?

  Horrified at the direction his thoughts had taken, he abruptly turned over.

  ‘Whh … aat?’ Edith stirred sleepily.

  ‘Nothing. I was just putting the light off.’ Damn it, the very thing he’d tried to avoid. She’d had a long day, she needed her sleep.

  ‘Let me look at you again before you do.’ Edith gazed up at him, her eyes darker than ever, a smile on her drowsy face. ‘I thought so. I’m in bed with you in a swanky hotel room. Who’d have believed it? Harry, look at us! Aren’t we lucky?’

  Unable to resist he dipped down and took her in his arms. ‘I’m the lucky one,’ he breathed. ‘I can’t take it in. You agreed to marry me and here we are.’

  ‘And it’s Christmas in two days. I can’t wait. We’ll be with your parents again.’

  ‘Now don’t tell me you’d rather be in my old room than here?’