Wartime for the District Nurses Read online

  Groaning, she rolled over. She was in an unfamiliar bed, and the strange noise was Laurence snoring. She had to get away from him as quickly as possible as she could no longer bear the sight of him. Those good looks covered a black heart and the sooner she was away the better. Wildly she scrabbled for her clothes and put them on, her hands shaking as the effects of the alcohol wore off. Her head pounded but the most important thing was to get out.

  If he’d heard the noise she was making, Laurence didn’t react. That told her all she needed to know. She was less than nothing to him. He didn’t care if she was awake or not, let alone if he’d hurt her. She knew she’d have bruises tomorrow, and marks from the horrible carpet, which was slightly sticky under her feet as she crept to the door.

  Pausing in the dimly lit corridor, she checked her watch. She would still have time to catch the last bus, just. Swiftly she made her way down the stairs and out of a side door that she hoped would lead her to a road she recognised, but not before Marge caught her eye as she wiped the bar. The older woman shook her head, but Peggy was too hungover to react. She didn’t care what the barmaid thought; she’d never have to see her again. All she wanted now was her own bed and to forget the whole evening.

  ‘What have you got there, Mary?’ Belinda, who was a half-head taller than her colleague, leant over to see. Mary was standing at one of the common-room windows, overlooking the bike rack at the side of the yard, and admiring a small box in her hand. It was Friday lunch time and Belinda was ravenous after a tough morning, but not so hungry as to overcome her natural curiosity.

  Mary looked up and smiled, patting her rich brown curls. ‘A present from Charles,’ she said, giving the box a little shake. It rattled, and Belinda raised her eyebrows. ‘Hairgrips.’

  ‘They’ll be useful.’ Belinda shook her own dark hair, which held its tight waves no matter how much she tried to straighten it under her nurse’s cap. ‘I’m running out and can’t seem to find any in the shops or market.’

  Mary nodded. ‘Charles said that’s because all the available metal will be going to munitions and to build new aircraft and that sort of thing,’ she explained. ‘Not that I can see how a few little hairgrips will make much difference. They’re only small. But he says they will be tricky to come by and so he got me these.’

  ‘You’re lucky to have someone as thoughtful as that,’ breathed Belinda with just a hint of envy.

  Mary tried not to look smug. ‘I know. Most chaps wouldn’t think about it. But he knows how hard I try to keep my hair tidy for work, and how important that is.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Belinda. ‘We can’t afford to spread infection if we let loose our beautiful tresses.’ She sighed. ‘I need some food after the morning I’ve had. Let’s go and eat.’

  After settling themselves in front of their bowls of oxtail soup in the dining area, Mary looked up. ‘So what happened this morning?’

  Belinda took a couple of spoonfuls. ‘That’s better. Now I feel human again.’ She put down her spoon. ‘It wasn’t any one major problem, just the way lots of small things built up. There was one middle-aged woman who had broken her wrist. I mean, it was painful and awkward but no worse than that, no complications. She was so upset, though. In the end I realised she just wanted someone to talk to. She’s missing her sons, her husband is hardly at home because he’s started fire-watching, and now she’s hurt her wrist she’s no use for minding her daughter’s baby. On top of all that she’s terrified the Nazis will invade. There wasn’t much I could say to that; only to reassure her that she’ll be as good as new soon and that we’re all trying our best.’ She paused to draw breath.

  ‘There won’t be an invasion,’ Mary declared, confident as ever.

  ‘Mary, we don’t know that,’ Belinda pointed out.

  ‘Our boys in the RAF are defending our skies. That’s what the wireless tells us,’ Mary replied, steadfast in her belief. ‘Charles says the Luftwaffe aren’t getting away with anything. Our boys are stopping them getting through and it’s a marvellous triumph every day. So you can tell your patient to set one worry aside at any rate. But isn’t it funny how cases go in batches?’ she asked hurriedly, reading the scepticism in her colleague’s eyes. ‘A short while ago it was measles everywhere. I had two sprained ankles and a broken arm this morning. One was an accident in the blackout …’

  ‘… though we’re seeing fewer of those now the evenings are light,’ Belinda pointed out.

  ‘True. One was a young boy who’d decided to help out around the house with jobs his big brother used to do before joining up, but he didn’t really know what he was doing and fell off a ladder while trying to put up a shelf. So now his poor parents have double the worry and no shelf.’ She shrugged. ‘It could be worse.’

  Belinda nodded as she took another welcome mouthful of soup.

  ‘My other one was an old man who tried to mow his lawn and wasn’t strong enough to take his mower out of the shed,’ Mary went on. ‘He told me his neighbour used to do it but now he’s in the army. So many things we used to take for granted are much more difficult now that there aren’t as many young men around.’

  Belinda rolled her eyes. ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘Belinda!’ Mary pretended to be shocked. ‘And over lunch, too!’

  ‘Well, it’s all right for you, you’ve got Charles,’ Belinda pointed out. ‘Not only does he take you to the snazziest restaurants, but he remembers you need hairgrips too. He’s a man in a million. Does he have any friends?’

  ‘They’re all in the army, most of them away. You can share my hairgrips if you like,’ she added generously. ‘I’m sure I shan’t need them all.’

  ‘No, no. I couldn’t let you do that. They were a present,’ Belinda said. ‘I was only teasing. Sometimes the least expensive presents are the best, aren’t they, because they are what you really need, and Charles knew you well enough to find them. You’re a lucky woman, Mary Perkins.’

  Mary had the grace to blush. ‘Well, I think so. Most of the time.’ She grinned and stood up, taking her soup bowl to the serving hatch. ‘Must be off, more patients to see.’

  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 i
n 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.