A Liverpool Lass (25 page)

‘Oh girls, thank goodness,’ she gasped. ‘Can you start getting the stretcher cases into bed? I’m doing my best, but what with Matron ordering all lights to be extinguished and this sudden influx of new cases, I’m afraid we’re not making much headway.’

‘Right, Sister,’ Lucy muttered. As the older woman hurried off she turned to Nell. ‘Twenty hours on duty, two hours sleep ... whatever next, I wonder? Death, by the sound of things out there – well at least we’ll die working!’

They did not die because the hospital was not hit, though the railway station in the nearest town and a
casualty clearing station were both annihilated. And a couple of days later Nellie, walking wearily across the foyer after a long and difficult shift, was stopped in her tracks when someone addressed her by name.

‘Nellie McDowell, are you going to walk right by me? When I’ve travelled thousands of miles just to see you? Come here and look me in the eye and say you’ve forgotten me!’

One glance was enough. Nellie forgot she was tired, dirty, wearing a stained apron. She just flew across the foyer and found herself clasped in a pair of strong arms, lifted off her feet, then soundly kissed.

‘Stuart!’ Nellie said shakily as their lips reluctantly parted. ‘Oh, my love, I thought I’d never see you again ... you look very well and fit – what on earth are you doing here?’

‘Never mind that for a moment – are you going off duty? Then you must come out with me, somewhere quiet, where we can talk.’

It was against all the rules, all the regulations, too. A nurse was not allowed to go out with a man unless she was chaperoned by at least one other nurse and preferably more. Nellie, with her heart beating nineteen to the dozen and a warm glow suffusing her entire being, never gave rules or regulations, far less chaperons, a thought. She let Stuart put his arm round her shoulders, she slid her own arm round his waist, and thus entwined, they went out of the hospital, across the chateau grounds and into the small town.

‘A meal first,’ Stuart said. ‘I’ll see if I can persuade the innkeeper to bring the food up to my room.’

Nellie could not believe this was happening. Was she dreaming, perhaps? She had thought about Stuart, longed to see him, worried that when they did meet he might have cooled towards her, and now he was here
and all her doubts had proved false. She looked at him, loving the leanness of him, the tanned face, the lines, even, which came with the constant strain they were learning to live under. They reached the inn and the proprietor agreed to bring a meal to Stuart’s room. It was a pleasant room, with a big double bed, a sofa, a round table and four chairs. When the meal – cold meat, crusty bread, butter and beer – was on the table, she examined him closely and knew he was doing the same with her. He had nice teeth and his dark eyes sparkled. He had a cleft chin and an amusement crease in one cheek. His hands were sensitive and strong, she loved just watching him carve the beef, slice the bread.

‘Nell, my love, what’s been happening to you? I’m on my way to a posting, I’ll let you know where I’m going as soon as I know myself, but you look so tired and pale.’

She told him. About the frightening retreat, the slow consolidation, the apparent turn in the fortunes of war, though no one trusted such turns, not any more. Too many bad things had happened. He listened, not interrupting, eyes steady on her face. When she finished he leaned across the table and took her face in his hands.

‘My little love, I wish I could have spared you this! But I do believe this is the beginning of the end, truly I do. I can’t tell you much – I don’t know very much – but I believe the worst is over and that it won’t be too long before there’s peace. But Nell, darling, even when peace comes, I shan’t be free, not at once. Nor you, I daresay, but you should get home before me. Will you wait for me?’

‘I’d wait years,’ Nellie murmured. ‘Oh Stuart, I’ve been so afraid that you’d forgotten me, or perhaps that you’d meet someone else.’

‘Someone else? The girl’s run mad,’ Stuart said. He got up and walked round the table, then lifted her out of her chair and settled her comfortably in his arms. ‘I love you now, I loved you when first we met, I’ll love you till the day I die. Kiss me!’

They kissed. Nellie’s heart nearly burst with bliss and for the first time for many weeks, she felt safe.

‘Nellie? Will you stay with me?’

She knew what he meant. They looked deep into each other’s eyes whilst Stuart’s hands gentled, persuaded.

‘Oh, I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t! Suppose ... the hospital needs me, suppose something bad should happen like ...’

He put a hand on either shoulder and shook her gently from side to side. He was smiling.

‘You can safely leave that side of it to me, my love. Will you trust me?’

She did not speak but he read the answer in her eyes. He picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed, laid her gently on the covers.

And, presently, they loved each other.

Summer came, and things improved. At first there were fewer wounded, then they began to get prisoners of war on the wards, German youngsters with wide, worried eyes, boys scarcely into puberty. The men who came into the mobile hospital were no longer despairing, sure of defeat. The tide had turned and their spirits had turned with it; they joked with the nurses, talked about what they would do in the peace, longed openly for their return to Blighty, not as just a vague dream but as something which was soon to become a fact.

On the fourth anniversary of the first day of the war
Lucy and Nellie were lying on the grass outside the chateau, in bright, warm sunshine, writing letters. Nellie had plucked a long blade of grass and was ruminatively chewing the sweet stem whilst she considered the page before her and Lucy was scribbling away, dipping her pen into their shared inkpot every few moments, sometimes chuckling, sometimes serious.

‘Done!’ Lucy exclaimed at last, throwing down her pen. ‘Do you know I write to four officers now? I like them all, but I’m not in love with any of them – isn’t that sad?’

‘What about Sid? Is he one of them?’

‘Ah, Sid and I hope when the war ends we’ll meet and get to know one another properly, like you and Stuart ought, because you can’t love someone you’ve only met two or three times, can you? Until then I’ll continue to write to anyone who writes back to me. But it’s a bit of a chore sometimes, when the weather’s brilliant and I’d like a country walk instead. Who are you writing to? Stuart?’

‘No, I wrote to him earlier. Lilac. I told her all about Stuart coming here, and that he’s going back to Blighty for a new posting, and I suggested she might like to write to Matt, particularly now that we’ve heard about Fred’s death. She was always fond of Matt, and he misses Fred horribly – they’re twins, you know. I’ve been so busy, I write to so many people, but I’ve been a bit worried once or twice by the tone of her letters ... and Aunt Ada never even adds a line any more. Li seems to be out half the time ... I don’t know, I’m just uneasy, I suppose. It won’t hurt her to write to Matt, it might settle her down a bit. And then there’s Charlie; he’s invited them to visit him a dozen times but there’s always some excuse. It’s not like Auntie; she always
did adore Charlie. And as to whether or not I’m in love with Stuart, I think I love him and I think he loves me, but we only had those few meetings with you and Sid, and when he came here it was just for one evening. I shall spend time with him when the war’s over, like you say, but right now it’s our Lilac who needs me most.’

‘Well, you might get some leave in the autumn,’ Lucy said drowsily. ‘The casualties are definitely slowing down; why, Ward Six, the one the German kids are on, has got half-a-dozen empty beds. Can you imagine it? Empty beds!’

Nellie had capped her pen and laid down the page, but now she picked the pen up again, unscrewed the inkbottle top, dipped, and began to write once more.

‘
Lucy has just said she thinks the pressure on us is easing’
, she wrote. ‘
If this continues it may be possible for me to get some leave in a few weeks
.’

‘What’ve you written now?’ Lucy asked drowsily. ‘I hear your pen scratching away again!’

‘Oh, I just said we thought it might be possible to get leave in a few weeks,’ Nell said, blotting her postscript and folding the thin sheets of paper. ‘Wouldn’t it be odd if Stuart met Lilac whilst he was waiting for his ship to sail? He’s bound to go abroad again, don’t you think? He suspects it will be Egypt, though he didn’t say why. He said he might be in the ’Pool for a while, though, waiting for his ship to leave.’

‘Yes, you did mention it,’ Lucy said. ‘Nine times or so ... or was it ten? And talking of times, what time is it?’

Nellie glanced at her fob-watch.

‘We’ve nearly half an hour before we’re back on duty,’ she said. ‘I’m almost inclined to have a lie-down too, like you. Only I rather want to have a word with Lillian, on Ward Six.’

‘Oh? Why?’

‘Well, have you been into the ward lately? I went in yesterday and it was an education, believe me. There are little boys – kids – suffering from wounds, shrapnel, the lot. Oh Lu, do you remember Officer Baby? Well at least he could have been taken for eighteen or so, but these are boys of no more than thirteen or fourteen and they look what they are, kids! How can the Huns throw kids into battle? And they aren’t even allowed to write home to tell their mothers they’ve been hospitalised, let alone that they’re still alive. It’s downright wicked. So I’ve been helping Lillian by writing letters to their mams when I’ve a free moment.’ She gestured to the small pile of sheets before her. ‘I got eight done before I wrote to Lilac,’ she added proudly.

‘It
is
awful, to send kids into battle, but they says the Huns are desperate.’ Lucy said temperately. ‘First their push shoved us back, then the Yanks came in and our combined push shoved them even further back. Now it’s just nose-to-nose stuff again ... a killer if you ask me, when everyone’s tired. I suppose when the Hun hierarchy need somone to replace men who’ve died, the teutonic mind sees no harm in sending kids.’

‘Well, I think it’s wicked and evil; I hope to God no Englishman would do such a thing. And now, of course, there’s this awful ’flu. Some of the Germans in Ward Six have had it, haven’t they? And someone told me it’s raging in the American lines.’

‘Yes, and it’s in Ward Eight, too. They try to keep flu victims away from other people, but several have died.’ Lucy sat up and reached for the pile of letters which Nellie had just pointed out to her. ‘Mind if I read one? I take it you’re writing in English? Gosh, I never knew you could speak German, Nell!’

‘Nor I can,’ Nell said with a giggle. ‘Sister gave Lillian a letter to copy and Lil passed one on to me, with some addresses. I copy the little paragraph in German, then add my own bits in English. If you want to help, I’m sure everyone would be delighted.’

‘Mm hmm. Only you’ll get called Hun-lovers,’ Lucy said absently. ‘You know how horrible they were to Annie when she fell for that German officer and started writing to his mother.’

‘Scarcely; Lucy, these kids are babies, honest! But I don’t care what anyone says, not when it comes down to it. I’ll do what I feel is right. And if that sounds smug I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t sound very sorry,’ Lucy said. She heaved herself to her feet. ‘Right, I’ll do my share, and now let’s just walk as far as the pine wood. I so love the smell of the pine needles and the peace and quiet.’

‘Good idea,’ Nell said. She got to her feet, brushed loose bits of grass off her long grey skirt, slung her folded apron onto her small pile of possessions and linked arms with Lucy. ‘I wonder what Egypt’s like? Hot, I suppose.’

‘I believe the women are extraordinarily beautiful,’ Lucy said wickedly. ‘How will he let you know if he is going to Egypt, anyway? I’d have thought the censor would have snipped that out, quick as quick.’

‘Of course, which is why we devised a code earlier on. I’ll probably get a letter when he arrives, but until then I simply worry that ... oh dear, it’s better not to think about it, let alone talk. Let’s change the subject – will you come up to Ward Six with me to deliver my letters before we go on duty?’

‘Yes, of course I will. What better time to offer my services?’

The two girls reached the rickety old gate which led
into the pine woods and Nellie swung it wide, then rubbed moss off the palms of her hands and stopped to breathe in the soft, pine-scented air and to enjoy the cool shadows of the trees.

‘Isn’t this lovely? When I go indoors smelling of the pines and grass and wild flowers the boys look so wistful. Yesterday young Foulkes asked me what perfume I was wearing and when I said it was just fresh air he begged me to bottle some for him!’ Nellie scuffed the pine needles under her feet and took her friend’s arm once more. ‘I wonder what Lilac’s doing right now? Wouldn’t it be odd if she and Stuart met?’

‘Very very odd,’ Lucy said. ‘Mind you, funny things do happen, specially in wartime. Look at us meeting Stuart and Sid, when they weren’t even patients of ours and we scarcely ever left the hospital.’

‘That was fate,’ Nellie said decidedly. ‘And there’s no real reason why fate shouldn’t throw Lilac and Stuart together, you know. Then they could both write and tell me the other one was fit and well. Still, no use dreaming, it’s time we turned back if we’re to visit Ward Six before we go on duty.’

‘Do’you know, Auntie, that four years ago today the war started? Four years! I’m nearly thirteen, so four years ago I was just a baby, living at the Culler. Do you want some more spuds?’

Rationing had been introduced to try to see that everyone got a share in what little was available, but so far as Lilac could see, with or without rationing the people in Coronation Court were learning to live on potatoes, bread and thin air. And what was more, in order to get even a little money, for Aunt Ada had her own uses now for the shillings which came from
abroad, Lilac simply had to earn whenever she wasn’t in school.

Not that she minded. Since the winter, when she had first realised that her aunt drank to excess, she had started picking up a penny here and there and by now, with fruit and vegetables available once more, she was managing quite well, all things considered.