Wartime for the District Nurses

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Belinda waved to her friend and tipped her bowl to spoon up the last of the soup. She’d been half joking, but it was true that there seemed to be far fewer eligible young men around, or at least those who weren’t simply passing through en route to active service somewhere. Her mind turned to that nice young ARP warden who had been at the pub and who knew Edith well. He’d had such kind, lively eyes and a lovely head of dark hair, gently wavy – not tight like hers. Admittedly he was not quite as tall as her, but many men weren’t. He’d been a real gent, walking her home even though it was out of his way. What was his name again? She frowned in concentration until it came to her. It was Billy – Billy Reilly.

Edith pushed open the door of Lyons Corner House with trepidation. Perhaps she should have chosen a smaller café but it was too late to change her mind now. She’d wanted to go somewhere she wouldn’t bump into anyone she knew, so that ruled out all the Dalston ones, and to be somewhere central so her brother would have no cause for complaint about being dragged north of the river and so far east. Lyons near Charing Cross seemed the easiest bet. But gazing round at the waitresses in their smart uniforms, and the women customers sipping their tea with bags of shopping stacked around their chairs, Edith could hear her brother’s snide comments in her head even before he turned up.

In for a penny, in for a pound, she told herself, smiling at the nearest waitress and ordering a toasted teacake. She could pretend sugar and butter wasn’t rationed for once. Might as well enjoy the place before her brother arrived to ruin it. Then she berated herself. Everything might be all right. He might just surprise her.

Edith’s thoughts turned to the night before, when she’d met Peggy in the Duke’s Arms. She’d tried not to look shocked when Peggy had confessed to getting blind drunk with Laurence, but any disapproval had melted away when Peggy described what had happened next.

‘I don’t know how we went from having a lovely time to him behaving like a pig,’ she’d said, quietly so nobody else in the busy beer garden could hear. ‘It was like he was a different person altogether, more like a filthy animal than the bloke we all met in here. I couldn’t do a thing to get away. Truth was, I was afraid to try after a bit, I thought he’d really hurt me.’

‘Oh, Peggy.’ Edith had put her hand on her friend’s arm and squeezed it gently, but even that made her wince.

‘Sorry, it’s the bruises,’ Peggy said. ‘They’re coming out all over me, I’m blue and purple from head to toe. It’s a proper palaver hiding them from Pete’s mum.’ Her lip trembled.

‘Peggy, you should report it,’ Edith said. ‘Who knows, he might try to do it again.’

Peggy had laughed off the suggestion. ‘And say what? That I had too much to drink and agreed to go into his room? They’ll say I was asking for it, you know they will. It’s not as if I’m completely wet behind the ears. I thought we were going to have a bit of fun. I just didn’t realise what his idea of fun was.’

Edith shook her head. ‘All the same …’

Peggy was resolute. ‘No, there’s nothing to be gained by complaining. All that will happen is I’ll get a reputation for being fast. Who knows, perhaps I deserve it.’

Edith tutted. ‘Don’t say such daft things. Of course you don’t.’

Peggy glanced away, suddenly unable to meet her friend’s eyes. ‘Perhaps it’s my punishment. You know, for going out when Pete’s not long dead. That’s what everyone will say, and maybe it’s right. You aren’t going out gallivanting; you’re staying in and mourning Harry like he deserves, aren’t you?’

Edith shrugged. ‘I don’t feel like going out, that’s true. It’s different coming here and seeing you. But, as for the thought of meeting another man … no, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t feel right to me. But I’m not saying you shouldn’t. We’re not all the same, are we?’

Peggy sighed. ‘That’s right. Thanks for not blaming me, Edith. I feel terrible, like I’ve disrespected Pete’s memory in some way, and yet whatever I do won’t change the fact that he’s gone. I don’t want another husband, there ain’t ever going to be anyone like him, but I just can’t sit in and do nothing cos that makes everything a thousand times worse. I’ve got to cope in my own way, just like you have.’

Edith had raised her glass. ‘That’s all we can do, isn’t it? You can talk to me any time, Peggy, you know that.’

Peggy had let slip a tear and dashed it swiftly away before anyone else could notice. ‘Thanks, Edith. You’re a mate. I might take you up on that. I really hope he hasn’t got me up the duff – that would be more than I could stand.’

Edith had looked her steadily in the face. ‘Well, tell me if that happens.’

Peggy’s lip trembled. ‘I know you’d help. Well, I only ever got pregnant once with Pete and I admit we took lots of risks before we got married, so it probably won’t happen. But I’ll be sure to tell you either way.’

Now she spread the butter on her teacake, watching the golden liquid melt onto the plate, almost like before the war had started. She shut her eyes as she took the first bite. Pure heaven.

‘Very fancy.’ She was woken from her moment of bliss by a familiar voice. ‘You must be doing all right for yerself, hanging round places like this.’

Edith forced herself to smile, though her heart sank at the tone of the greeting. ‘Mick. You look well.’

Before her stood a young man in uniform, smarter than she remembered, who bore a striking resemblance to her and, she remembered with a pang, their dead sister Teresa. They shared the family characteristics of wavy hair, almost black, dark eyes and small stature.

He bristled. ‘No thanks to you.’ He pulled back the chair opposite her and took a seat.

Edith didn’t rise to the bait. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’

Mick looked at the neat menu. ‘You got to be joking. Not at these prices.’

Edith sighed. ‘It’s on me.’ It wasn’t as if she’d taken him to the Ritz, or one of Mary’s favoured haunts, but her brother was trying – as always – to make out that he was the injured party. So much for the notion of the army making a man of him.

‘Suppose I will, then,’ he accepted grudgingly. He sat back, taking a good look at her. ‘Nursing suits you, then.’

Edith nodded. ‘I still like it. No, it’s more than that, I really love it.’ She bit her lip, cross with herself for saying so much. Childhood had taught her to give away as little as possible, or Mick would take anything that was dear to her and try to ruin it in one way or another. Still, she thought, she wasn’t a child any more. She was a woman, in a profession, who had briefly been the unofficial fiancée of a wonderful man – a champion boxer, what was more. She had status. It would not be so easy for her brother to knock her down.

‘Love it, do yer?’ Mick sneered. ‘Got yer eye on all the doctors, have yer? Better not let them get their highfalutin hands on you.’

He paused only because the waitress brought the tea.

‘Oh, leave it, Mick,’ said Edith, pouring from the neat little pot. ‘If that’s all you’ve come to tell me, we can say goodbye now.’ She glared at him, refusing to back down. She was heartily glad she had never mentioned Harry to any of her family. At least Mick couldn’t use that to taunt her.

‘Suit yerself,’ he muttered, slurping noisily, at which several of the customers nearby turned round to look. He smiled at them, pleased to have been a source of annoyance. ‘Well now, seeing as you can stand me a cuppa in a swanky place like this, seems like my humble little request will be no bother at all.’

Edith raised her eyebrows. Of course, there was going to be a request. She could make a very good guess what it was going to be.

‘Yes, see, we got to look after our Frankie,’ Mick went on. ‘He’s been in all sorts of trouble and he thinks the best way out of it will be to follow his big brother,’ at this he puffed out his chest a little, ‘into the army. He’s got some vicious types on his heels saying he owes them money, so he reckons his best way of staying safe is to scarper down to enlist.’

‘Mick, he’s sixteen,’ Edith pointed out. ‘They won’t have him.’

Mick snorted. ‘Since when did you grow so keen on playing by the rules? You was the one who said they was there to be broken.’ He pointed his finger at her. ‘They’re signing up all sorts and no questions asked.’

Edith shook her head. ‘I can understand it if a lad looks eighteen. Come off it, Mick. None of us Gillespies looks older than we are; we’re too short, we stand absolutely no chance of passing. You barely look old enough to wear that uniform now. There’s no way on God’s earth a recruitment officer will accept Frankie.’

Mick pulled a face. ‘Prepared to risk it, are you?’

‘What’s the alternative?’ Edith thought they might as well get to the crux of the matter.

‘Glad you asked me,’ he said smoothly. ‘It’s all about this inconvenient amount that our Frankie owes. He pays that off, there’ll be no further questions asked, and he won’t have to go into the Forces. Or at least till he’s officially old enough. So, knowing how much you love your little brother, I’m sure you’ll want to see him right.’

‘No.’ Edith folded her arms.

‘Aren’t you even going to ask how much?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Edith kept her face impassive. ‘If he’s old enough to get into that sort of trouble, then he’s old enough to sort himself out. Or at least come to speak to me directly.’

Mick pushed his chair further back with a loud scraping noise, receiving even more glares. ‘What, don’t you trust me? D’you think I’d take a cut of a lump of cash that’s going to save our brother?’

Edith decided to call his bluff. ‘Yep. That’s exactly what I think.’ She pressed home her advantage. ‘You think I earn a fortune, do you? Since when did nurses ever get huge pay packets? And what about you – you’re serving in the army for nothing, are you? I can’t see that happening somehow.’

Mick glared at her in fury. ‘I deserve my pay. A man needs his earnings. Whereas you, look at you, what do you need cash for? Bet they feed you and you get to live in one of those fancy nurses’ homes. I been inside one or two of those,’ he leered, ‘and they was like little palaces. You’re living the life of Riley.’

Edith stared heavenwards, thinking of all the sad cases she had had to deal with in the past week. Yes, she loved her little attic room, and if the canteen food wasn’t as delicious as a Lyons teacake, at least there was plenty of it. It was a world away from what she had grown up with and she’d worked hard to get there. She wasn’t going to give Mick the satisfaction of upsetting her. She didn’t even know if he was telling the truth about Frankie, but she was sure that if she gave him any money, then their younger brother would see very little of it.

‘Think what you like,’ she said evenly, ‘but you’ll get nothing from me. If Frankie’s genuinely in trouble, ask him to get in touch directly. That’s if you can’t sub him yourself, after having all your bed and board paid for, that is.’

Mick slammed down his cup so hard she thought it would break. ‘I might have known it. You’ve only ever been out for yourself. Ma told me that’s what you’d say but I thought, oh no, now she’s a nurse she’ll have changed. She’ll be kind; everyone knows nurses are kind.’ He brought his face close to hers. ‘But not you, eh, Edith? Hard as nails, that’s what you are.’ He threw the chair to one side, causing a nearby woman to squeal, as Edith swiftly reached out and caught it before it could fall or knock into anyone. ‘Wish I could say it was nice seeing you again, but that would be a lie.’ With that he flung himself towards the door and out onto the Strand.

Edith sighed but made herself finish the tea and the last bite of the teacake. She would not let his familiar viciousness get under her skin. In truth, she had expected little else from him, and in one way it was good to have her suspicions confirmed. He was trying to con her out of her hard-earned money, just like the old days, but now he thought she’d be a softer touch. Well, he’d picked on the wrong person. She knew his ways and had no intention of falling for them.

Taking some coins from her purse and leaving them for the waitress, she rose with dignity and steadily made her way to the door. It was only when she had reached the outside and the cooler air hit her that she felt a pang. Why did her family have to be so difficult? Did they really still blame her for Teresa’s death, or would they have been like this anyway? There was no way of telling.

Edith exhaled sharply. All right, so her family weren’t much of a comfort, but she knew one that was – and one that had made her welcome. Suddenly she knew she had to be back in that room she thought of as the source of all comfort and safety. She would go to visit the Banhams – at least she knew she would always have the warmest of welcomes there.

CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_841b1661-e672-57b2-96b4-5bfa190c80c4)

Mattie had been hanging out the washing when she’d first sensed something wasn’t right. It was never her favourite chore, but she knew her mother found it increasingly difficult to carry the heavy tub into the back yard, hoick up the line and prop it up with the weathered old pole, and then lift the dripping clothes and bedding into place and nip the pegs into position before the items could slip off again. Flo’s hands were beginning to swell with arthritis, much as she tried to hide it. Mattie had seen her wince as she twisted the sheets to squeeze out the water.

She wanted to save her mother the bother, and also to save her face; now she was a mother herself she recognised how Flo had to maintain the front of being the one in charge, capable of anything. In most respects that was exactly what she still was – but age was starting to creep up, and stiffen her poor hands.

Mattie gritted her teeth as she balanced the laundry tub to one side of her sizeable bump. The sun was out and it had seemed a good idea to wash the sheets, a brisk breeze promising to dry them quickly. Now she was faced with manoeuvring the unwieldy armfuls of cotton onto the frayed old line. Usually it was easy, but now her bump kept getting in the way; she couldn’t bend properly, she had to twist, and that pulled on her back muscles which were already sore from lifting Gillian out of harm’s way scores of times a day. Gritting her teeth harder still, she flung the sheets over the line, tugging at them until they hung properly, by which time she was covered in water. Suddenly it all seemed too much. A wave of sadness came over her from nowhere, and she wanted nothing more than to sit down and put her head in her hands. At the same time, she recognised that this was not like her at all. Anyway, there was no helping it – the washing was not going to peg itself out. She simply had to get on with it.

When she heard someone knocking on the front door she wondered if this would be her excuse to take a break, but then came the sound of her mother’s voice greeting the visitor. She sighed as she hung up the last few items, Gillian’s small smocked dresses and her own well-worn pale blue blouse. The sight of it threatened to bring tears to her eyes. Lennie had loved her in that. She took a deep breath. No point in thinking about that now. Wincing as she bent to pick up the basket and peg bag to stack them by the side fence, she realised she had to run to the outside privy, and never mind who had come to visit.

‘Come through, come through to the kitchen.’ Flo beamed in delight as Edith stepped inside the hallway. ‘I was just going to put on the kettle. You’ll have a cup of tea, won’t you? Or is it too hot?’

Edith was wilting from the warmth of the crowded bus back from the city centre. Everyone on it had been chattering about what was going on over the south coast, the brave RAF lads tackling the Luftwaffe, but it had only served to underline her sadness that her own brave hero was no longer there to comfort her. ‘I’d love some water. I’ll get it, you sit down.’

Flo pretended to be affronted. ‘I’ve not got to the stage where a guest in my house has to fetch their own drink,’ she admonished. ‘I can see you’re in need of something cool. Sit yourself there by the window and catch the breeze. Now, that’s better.’ She set a heavy glass tumbler down at Edith’s elbow.

Edith took a long draught and almost groaned in relief. ‘That’s just what I needed. Those buses are busy today. Whatever was I thinking of?’

‘Never mind, you’re here now,’ said Flo, ‘and very welcome you are too. I’m pleased you dropped by. It seems like ages since we last saw you. You aren’t staying away, are you? Not afraid we’ll make you think of Harry?’

Edith felt a pang that Flo might even have imagined such a thing. ‘No, no. Not a bit. I’ve been run off my feet with work, I’ve hardly had a moment to call my own.’ Except for two trips to the pub, the voice of her conscience whispered.

Flo nodded. ‘That’s only to be expected. In a job like yours, you’ll always have to put the patients first. We understand.’

Edith smiled gratefully. ‘It’s only what everyone else is doing too.’

Flo grinned conspiratorially. ‘Well, I’ll tell you something. Stan has been so flat out – what with working all day and then going on his ARP rounds – that he’s in bed at this very minute! Catching up on his sleep, he is, and in all our years of married life I’ve never known him to do such a thing. But take the chance while you can, I told him. You can’t burn the candle at both ends any more, not at your age.’

Edith’s eyebrows rose in surprise. To her, Stan was indefatigable. Then she found she was quite envious. ‘It sounds like a good idea.’ Sleeping late was unheard of at the nurses’ home. Even if she’d wanted to skip breakfast, the noise of her colleagues starting their days would have roused her. She knew that was not the real reason she felt tired, though; it had been the emotion of the day so far, foolishly allowing herself to hope her brother had changed and that familiar sinking feeling when she realised he hadn’t.

Yet now she had the chance to unburden herself to Flo, a rare moment of quiet in the usually busy kitchen. She took a deep breath and explained how she had set off that morning and how adrift she had felt.

Flo’s open, kind face betrayed its sadness at the very idea a brother could treat a sister so badly. ‘You poor thing,’ she said with heartfelt sorrow. ‘And him your own flesh and blood. I’d be ashamed if Joe said anything like that to Mattie. Or vice versa. I know they tease each other – well, they all did.’ Edith nodded in acknowledgment as she knew full well that Mattie and Harry had bickered non-stop and then would immediately make up again. ‘But that’s not the same. You need to know you can count on your family. That’s what they’re for.’