The District Nurses of Victory Walk Read online

  ‘Have you heard from Pete this week?’ Clarrie asked. ‘Is he still in that training camp thingy?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Peggy. ‘They won’t let him say exactly what he’s doing, so I have to fill in the blanks, but he sounds as if he’s made a few friends and it’s not too bad. Says the food isn’t as good as mine though.’ She smiled ruefully. When they’d planned their autumn wedding, many months ago, neither of them could have predicted being parted within a fortnight of the ceremony. Pete had agonised over leaving her, but couldn’t sit idly by and watch his friends join up. Being newly married wasn’t a good enough excuse. She’d cried bitter tears but then resolved to be proud of him and to paint on a bright face.

  Both young women turned at a slight commotion at the side door. ‘Billy!’ Clarrie cried. ‘Look at you, up and about again! Come over here, you can sit down all right, can’t you?’

  Billy grinned gratefully as he swung himself over to their table on his crutches. He was becoming quite skilled at getting around the place now, but he was glad to have the excuse to sit. He had half dreaded the prospect of standing at the bar with any of his remaining mates, but had forced himself to come out this evening, the first time since the accident. ‘What are you having, Billy?’ called the barman. ‘I’ll bring it over.’

  ‘Let me get it,’ said one of the men at the bar, who had once been Billy’s neighbour. ‘The man’s a hero. Saved that woman and her kiddie, he did.’

  ‘Cheers, Frank. I’ll have a pint of the usual,’ said Billy, trying not to beam like an idiot at the praise. Even though he had flat feet, he was still a hero after all. That was worth the pain in his leg, the heavy cast on it and the difficulty of everyday living. Now everyone would recognise he wasn’t a coward.

  Peggy obligingly shuffled around the table to make extra room so that Billy could sit with his leg outstretched and prop his crutches against the damask wallpaper. ‘We heard all about it,’ she said warmly. ‘You could have died, Bill. You must have thought fast all right.’

  Billy shrugged. The memory of that night was beginning to blur. ‘I dunno about that,’ he said, nodding happily to the barman bringing his pint. ‘I just did what anyone would have done.’

  ‘Not anyone,’ said Peggy forcefully. ‘You put yourself in danger to save Kath, we all know that.’

  ‘How is she?’ Clarrie asked. ‘I haven’t seen her down the market or anything.’

  Billy sighed. The daft thing was, even though he’d been in agony, he’d had all that time with the woman he’d admired so fiercely for so long. She’d sat with him in the ambulance and waited with him in the hospital while his leg was reset and put in the cast, and she’d come home with him to make sure he was all right. She had barely flinched when her own wound was treated. If only things had been different. If only he’d had the nerve to tell her how he felt before that Ray Berry came along. Now it was too late and she’d married him, the lily-livered wastrel that he was. Yet in the hospital she had looked at him with such kindness, it was almost as if for that one evening she had been his.

  He sighed again. No use dreaming about what wasn’t going to happen. He raised his glass and took a welcome sip. ‘I’ve missed this stuff,’ he confessed, deliberately cheerful. ‘Well, from what I heard, she’s on the mend. I haven’t been able to get out and see for myself, but that’s what Stan Banham said. He’s popped round to see me a few times. He recruited me for the ARP, you know.’

  ‘Has he? Oh, you’ll be good at that, Billy,’ said Peggy. ‘You’ll tell us all to put our lights out but you’ll do it with a smile on your face so we won’t mind.’

  Billy laughed. ‘Maybe. Course I got to wait for my leg to get fully better before I can start. He’ll make sure I know what’s what, anyway.’ He caught Clarrie’s attention wandering to the other side of the bar. ‘Here, Clarrie, am I boring you already?’ he teased.

  Clarrie smiled sheepishly at being caught out. ‘No, course not. But – no, you won’t be able to see from there. There’s someone sitting at a table in the corner and I don’t know who he is. Looks like a film star.’

  ‘Oooh, she’s come over all unnecessary,’ giggled Peggy. ‘It’s true, Billy, there’s a tall dark stranger and we haven’t a clue who he is. Well, he might not be tall. He’s sitting down.’

  Billy twisted around, slowly so as not to fall and embarrass himself. ‘Let’s have a look and see what all the fuss is about. Peggy, aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Pete’s barely been gone a moment.’

  ‘No harm in looking,’ said Peggy.

  ‘Ah,’ said Billy, turning carefully back again. ‘I couldn’t tell you who that is, but I can tell you who he’s with. It’s the nurse who saved me that evening, Alice. Alice Lake.’

  Alice didn’t usually go out to pubs but she felt it could do no harm to sit in the lounge bar with Dermot. It was the third time they’d met up and his stay in Dalston was nearly over. At first she’d been nervous about seeing him, wary of unleashing all the old emotions about Mark, but now she could talk to him and not be haunted by images of how things used to be when they would go out as a threesome. The more she saw Dermot away from Liverpool, the more normal it felt. Also, they had plenty to discuss as they had several patients in common. They had been heatedly discussing the best way to treat someone with suspected emphysema who didn’t want to be treated, when she realised the medical details might not be well received by anyone close enough to overhear. She started to laugh. ‘Sorry, that’s all a bit grim,’ she pointed out.

  Dermot smiled back. ‘Yes, I tend to forget and then get carried away,’ he admitted. ‘Anyway, he’ll be your worry next week. Dr Patcham will be back in the saddle.’

  ‘I’m glad he’s feeling better,’ said Alice.

  ‘I’m sure some of his patients will be relieved,’ said Dermot. ‘The older ones look at me as if I’m just out of nappies. Some have even asked if I’m qualified. It takes a lot to win their trust.’

  ‘Yes, they used to do that with me too,’ Alice confessed. ‘It was worse for Edith, she’s younger than me and she’s so small, they think she’s still at school. Mind you, they only make that mistake once. They wouldn’t dare repeat it – she stands for no nonsense.’

  ‘So I’ve realised,’ said Dermot. ‘Did you mean her when you said another friend would meet us here?’

  Alice shook her head. ‘No, it’s somebody else. You don’t know her – it’s a teacher from the local primary school. We always say we’re going to see each other after work and somehow never do, so when I bumped into her in the street earlier, I thought I’d ask her along. You don’t mind, do you?’

  Dermot tutted. ‘Of course not. What does she look like, in case I see her before you do?’

  ‘Short brown curly hair, glasses,’ Alice told him. ‘She did say she might be late – she was asked to stay behind for a meeting and then her landlady gets terribly offended if she doesn’t eat her evening meal. One reason why we haven’t yet managed to meet up.’ She glanced around, checking that she hadn’t missed Janet coming in. Alice would not have cared to go into a pub on her own, even if she was meeting somebody, but Janet swore she wasn’t in the least worried. ‘If I was, then I’d never go out,’ she’d said.

  There was as yet no sign of the teacher, but she did notice the man in the other part of the bar, who caught her eye and got rather unsteadily to his feet. Alice tried to move across the floor to meet him, but he shook his head slightly as he determinedly wove over to the corner table. ‘Billy, you’re on your feet again,’ she exclaimed. ‘How’s the leg?’

  He grinned in the bright lights that lit the pub from every wall, making it feel cosy, with the blackout blinds adding to the effect. ‘It’s my first night back out on the town,’ he admitted. ‘It’s mending nicely and that’s down to you, that is. I wanted to come over to thank you – not sure that I managed it on the night. I was a bit distracted.’ He smiled again.

  ‘Billy, this is Dr McGillicuddy,’ Alice said, realising she�
��d turned her back on Dermot and hastening to put that right. ‘Dermot, this is Billy – I was one of the first on the scene when he had his accident.’

  Dermot reached to shake hands, which Billy succeeded in doing only after propping one crutch against the neighbouring table. ‘I heard about that – nasty business,’ he said. ‘Isn’t the driver in jail now?’

  Billy glanced over each shoulder. ‘He was, but I dunno what happened, if they kept him in or what,’ he said. ‘His mates come in here sometimes, so I ain’t asking no questions if you get my drift.’

  Dermot nodded. ‘Say no more. Alice, will you have another drink?’

  Alice nodded. It was warm in the busy pub. ‘Lemonade again, please.’

  ‘Billy?’

  Billy shook his head. ‘No, I’ve got one in and I don’t think I should have too many. I’ll overbalance and that won’t do, will it, Nurse?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ said Alice, mock-sternly, and they both laughed. Dermot moved off to talk to the barman and Billy grew solemn.

  ‘I mean it, I am very grateful for what you done,’ he said, awkward now.

  Alice shrugged it off gracefully. ‘It’s my job. I did what any nurse would have done.’

  ‘That’s as maybe. Kath was glad it was you, though. It makes a difference. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

  ‘You’re not …’ Alice began, but he had picked up his other crutch and was making his way back to the other side of the pub before she could explain.

  Billy was concentrating hard on not toppling over but his mind was whirring. Maybe he had got it wrong. He’d teased Joe about his friendship with Alice even before he’d met her, convinced his friend was going to great lengths if there really wasn’t any romance in it. Joe had denied it flatly, and now here was Alice with a doctor whose good looks had reduced Clarrie to a giggling jelly.

  ‘Tell us, then!’ she said now as Billy got back to his seat. ‘Don’t keep us on tenterhooks. Who’s that man?’

  Billy laughed and made small talk for as long as it took him to drain his pint. However, when another old acquaintance offered to buy him another, he declined. It hit him how tired he was and that maybe he wasn’t as improved as he’d claimed. ‘I’d best be off,’ he told the others.

  ‘I won’t be long myself, Pete’s mum don’t like me staying out late,’ Peggy said. ‘She’s kind and everything, but she’s a bit old-fashioned like that.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Billy, hobbling on his crutches to the door. ‘See you around, girls.’ He paused to hold the door open for a woman in a dark brown overcoat with a shrewd expression on her face, but he didn’t wait around long enough to notice that she went to join Alice and Dr McGillicuddy at their table.

  ‘Janet! Good to see you.’ Alice got up as her friend reached them. ‘We’ve finally managed to meet each other out of work hours.’

  ‘Well, this is cosy,’ said Janet, looking around the place appreciatively. ‘I’ve often been past but never come in – nobody I know comes here. Thank you for inviting me.’

  Alice made the introductions and Janet nodded pleasantly at Dermot, but then launched into conversation with Alice, almost ignoring him. The meeting she’d attended earlier in the evening had raised the question of combining some schools, now that so many pupils had been evacuated, and yet they had begun to see a drift back into the city of families fed up with their billets, or who didn’t take to country living. ‘It could be chaos,’ groaned Janet. ‘Nobody actually knows how many children we will have by next term. It’s very disruptive to their education, and to the school’s organisation.’

  Dermot sat back in his chair, slightly surprised. He wasn’t used to being sidelined. Almost without exception, every woman upon meeting him for the first time would register his appearance even if she didn’t say anything. It was a fact of life, and it was one reason he enjoyed Alice’s company so much – she was 100 per cent just a friend. Yet here was a woman who barely acknowledged him, so consumed was she by her concerns.

  After the initial shock he found he was enjoying himself. It wasn’t often that he could sit back and watch people without getting drawn in. Because of his profession, he was always being asked for advice, but these two young women had no such need. Alice obviously knew the school and the other teachers well and was offering suggestions about class sizes.

  ‘Oh, and I meant to ask you,’ she went on. ‘Do you think we could use the school hall after hours for first-aid classes? We’ve begun them in the church hall but it’s freezing in there. We can’t teach people how to roll up bandages if they can’t feel their fingers.’

  ‘Good point.’ Janet paused to draw breath. ‘I’ll ask, shall I?’ Finally she turned to Dermot. ‘I’m so sorry, I’ve just totally monopolised the conversation. That was very rude – I was just so incensed by some of my colleagues who seem to have no idea what all this is doing to the children’s ability to learn.’

  ‘So I can see,’ said Dermot. ‘Well, you must be thirsty. Please allow me to buy you a drink.’

  ‘Lemonade?’ Alice asked.

  Janet pulled a face. ‘That stuff is for summer picnics. I’d prefer something a bit stronger. Whisky and soda please.’

  Dermot raised his eyebrows but then stopped himself. He was fond of that very drink himself, so why should he judge anyone else for asking for it? It was a highly unusual request from a woman, but that wasn’t his business. ‘Whisky and soda it shall be,’ he said, rising to his feet once more. As he stood waiting at the bar, he watched Alice and Janet, deep in animated conversation, and felt a pang of regret that he would be going so soon. Just when things were getting interesting.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  December 1939

  ‘You were doing really well there, Gladys,’ said Edith as they both left the school hall. Janet had successfully persuaded the governors to let the first-aid classes move to St Benedict’s and Gladys had signed up for them. Her reading was coming on in leaps and bounds, thanks to the lessons she was having with Alice, and she had felt confident enough to ask if she could come along.

  ‘I know I can’t follow all of the instructions on the packets of the bandages and that sort of thing, but I can understand some of them,’ she’d explained.

  Now Gladys tugged her scarf more tightly around her neck and smiled. ‘Thank you, I really enjoy it,’ she said gratefully to Edith. She was unused to compliments, as she had rarely received any before going to work at the nurses’ home. ‘Some of it I know already from listening to you all talk when you get back from on the district, but some of it is new. I never liked learning at school because I wasn’t there very often and it was all so difficult, but this is different.’

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ Edith replied. ‘It could come in very useful. Brrrr, it’s growing very cold now, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’ll soon be Christmas,’ Gladys said. ‘Will you be going back to your family?’

  ‘No, I shouldn’t think so,’ said Edith, wondering if her mother would even notice if she stayed away. ‘Patients will still need tending to, Christmas or no Christmas. I’m happy to do the rounds, specially if other nurses want to go and celebrate with their families.’

  Gladys nodded. ‘That’s kind of you, that is.’

  Edith shrugged. ‘I really don’t mind.’ She had hoped Harry would be home and they could celebrate together, but he hadn’t been told either way yet. That was all she cared about.

  ‘Miss Dewar always organises nice things to make it all special,’ Gladys told her. ‘We decorate all the downstairs rooms and have crackers and proper Christmas cake and turkey. Maybe we’ll have a carol concert again.’

  Edith smiled. ‘Oh, I love singing carols. I do hope it happens this year. Let’s ask her once we get back.’

  Gladys nodded and looked wistful. ‘I love to listen but I always found it hard to learn the words. I never did much singing.’ She brightened. ‘Maybe this year I can read some of the song sheets, though. I’m going to have a go.’

/>   ‘You should, you really should,’ said Edith, shoving her gloved hands into her cloak pockets for warmth. ‘I’ve heard you humming around the place as you work – I bet you’ve got a good voice. We’ll help you.’

  Stan Banham had been on early ARP duty and was making his way home in the bitter chill, looking forward to some of the hot soup Flo had promised to have waiting for him when he got back. He was fed up with some of the excuses people gave him about why they had left a light showing. Their cat had broken the blind. They didn’t think it counted if it was for only a short time. There hadn’t been any raids or gas attacks and so it didn’t matter. It made the usually phlegmatic Stan fume with annoyance. He didn’t like resorting to threats, but tonight he’d had to tell one man that he would fine him if he didn’t stick to the regulations. It was enough to try the patience of a saint. The only good thing was that Billy was finally fit and able to get around without crutches, and so he would be accompanying Stan on his next shift, to get to know the job.

  He could see his breath in the cold night air as he puffed out his bad temper. Then the heat of the house greeted him as he opened his front door. He hung up his heavy greatcoat, feeling the cares of the day recede.

  Mattie came running down the stairs as he was doing so. ‘Have you heard?’ she cried. ‘No, you won’t have, of course not.’

  ‘Heard what?’ Stan asked, pushing open the kitchen door, catching the aroma of the soup. Chicken and mushroom, if he wasn’t much mistaken. His mouth watered at the prospect.

  ‘Ma will tell you,’ Mattie replied, following him into the room.

  Flo beamed at them from the dining table, which was covered in her sewing. ‘Take a look at this!’ she exclaimed. She fished in the large front pocket of her apron and brought out a letter. ‘This will warm the cockles of your heart! Mattie, pour your father some of the soup.’

  Stan reached across and took the letter and instantly recognised the handwriting as that of his oldest child. Quickly he skimmed it and broke into a broad smile. ‘Oh, that is good news,’ he breathed. ‘Joe’s coming home for Christmas. What could be better?’ He looked up and met his wife’s happy gaze. Their eyes exchanged the message that neither of them had been willing to speak out loud: that they had feared for his safety ever since he had left. Even though people were calling it a phoney war, they both knew that there had been skirmishes, and that the navy had been involved. Joe had moved from his training base to a ship and they had had no means of knowing where he was or what he was doing.