Keep Smiling Through (23 page)

With this thought, she hurried downstairs, opened the garage doors and fired up the Norton. It was too early yet, the doctors would be on their rounds and Matron would be prowling the wards, but she could try and see Ron during the lunch hour.

The hours dragged as she tried not to make too many mistakes. Luckily, Major Patricia was busy for most of the morning showing the bigwigs from the RAF around the factory and entertaining them in her office, so she managed to avoid a dressing-down for the shoddy work she was producing today.

Discarding yet another attempt to get the welding correct, she gave up and stripped off the protective apron, helmet and gloves. Reaching for her jacket and gas mask box, she ran out of the factory, fired up the bike and was gone before anyone noticed. She would get it in the neck, that was for sure, but this was urgent, and surely Major Patricia would prefer her to be fully concentrated rather than careless and worried sick about her predicament?

Rita decided she didn’t really care what others thought of her as she raced on the bike towards Camden Road and the hospital. She’d been given the chance to do something very special and was determined not to be thwarted.

The hospital was busy as usual, with doctors, nurses and porters all going about their varying jobs with a bustling sense of importance and urgency. Rita parked the Norton round the side of the vast grey building that sprawled across an entire block, and swiftly took off her helmet and goggles, tucking them away in the pannier.

Her work clothes and heavy boots would make it difficult to blend in with the neat uniforms and long white coats, but there was not much she could do about that. She just had to hope Matron was occupied elsewhere, and that the sister on the ward would let her sneak in.

Rita ran up the steps and into the echoing reception hall. She knew where Ron’s ward was, she’d been to visit him only two days ago, but it meant going up the marble staircase and along a great many corridors before she reached him, and she just had to pray that no one stopped her.

Hurrying along, she was aware of the curious looks of those she passed, but she kept going until she reached the double doors of Men’s Medical. The corridor outside was empty, but she could hear the nurses chattering in the sluice as they made cups of tea and put their feet up for a few minutes.

She took a peek through one of the round windows set in the doors. Ron was sitting up, and looked a great deal better as he chatted to the man in the bed next to him and ate his lunch. There seemed to be no nurses on the ward, so she pushed the door open and slipped inside.

‘Hello, darling,’ said the man cheerfully from the bed close to the door. ‘Come to give us a bed-bath then?’

‘Not today,’ she muttered, hurrying towards Ron.

‘Hey, Ron,’ yelled the man. ‘How come you get to have all the pretty visitors when all I get is the mother-in-law?’

‘Keep your voice down, you eejit,’ growled Ron. ‘Do you want Matron to hear?’ He grinned up at Rita. ‘This is a nice surprise, so it is,’ he said, pushing away the tray of food. ‘Come to rescue me?’

‘It’s me who needs rescuing, Ron.’ She perched on the edge of the chair beside his bed and shot an anxious look at the doors.

‘Tell me quick,’ he muttered.

Rita let it all pour out as he scanned the letter. ‘I don’t know what to do for the best, Ron,’ she finished, close to tears.

‘There, there, girlie, don’t fret yourself.’ Ron patted her hand. ‘’Tis a tricky business, trying to please everyone, and I can see how much you’re wanting to do this thing. But you have to understand Louise better if you’re to be persuading her to let you go.’

Rita frowned. ‘I don’t see . . .’

‘Louise has always had someone to look after her, so she has no real confidence when it comes to making decisions and standing on her own two feet. I remember her as a wee girl. Pretty little t’ing she was, but shy, terrible shy.’

‘She still finds it a bit of a trial to make friends,’ Rita agreed. ‘But she seems to be doing all right at the factory, and I thought . . .’

Ron eyed the abandoned plate of unappetising food with a sigh. ‘She’ll not change now,’ he murmured. ‘It’s the fault of her parents, of course, but they thought they were doing the right thing by protecting her from the real world.’

He became thoughtful as the memories returned. ‘Louise was the baby they’d longed for and never thought they would have. Her mother was over forty when she was born, and from that moment they smothered her in love.’

‘But surely they realised she’d have to learn to stand on her own eventually? With much older parents there was always the possibility that . . .’

‘Aye, you’re right there, Rita. But, you see, they were blinded by their love for her, unable to see that tying her so closely to them meant she would never really have a normal life. They couldn’t see that it was in the nature of things to let their young fly and make the mistakes and the decisions that would ensure a happy, fulfilled life.’

‘That’s terribly sad,’ said Rita. ‘Poor Louise.’

He grimaced. ‘They didn’t even really want her to go out to work, afraid she might be influenced by the wrong sort of people and led astray, but of course they barely had two pennies to scrape together, so they had to let her earn something. Even then, they found her a bit of a job working for a close friend of theirs so they could keep an eye on her.’

‘Louise did tell me she worked at a hotel for a while before she married Tino.’

‘Ah, Tino. Yes. That was the only time she rebelled.’

‘She was only sixteen when they married,’ murmured Rita. ‘I’m surprised her parents gave their consent with her being so young and precious.’

‘Her father was in his late sixties by then, and not in good health. I think they realised suddenly that if anything happened to either of them, Louise would be left on her own. Tino was a hard-working, honest man with good prospects, who clearly adored their Louise, and as she seemed so determined to marry him, they gave them their blessing.’

‘So Louise went straight from being an adored daughter to become an adored wife. I know she relied on Tino for everything, and is totally lost without him.’

‘Which is why she’s clinging to you, Rita.’

‘A friend said much the same thing only the other week,’ murmured Rita. ‘I didn’t want to believe her, but it seems she was right.’ She regarded him through her unshed tears. ‘What can I do, Ron?’

He took her hand. ‘Perhaps if I spoke to her it would help – I don’t know. I wish to God Peggy was here. She’d know how to sort this out.’

‘I wish I did,’ sighed Rita. ‘But Louise has lost everyone she’s ever held dear. Even her own daughters fled the nest early to start new lives in America – how can I possibly persuade her to let me go too while Tino and Roberto are as good as missing?’

‘What are you doing in here?’

They both looked up guiltily at the ward sister.

‘I needed to see Mr Reilly urgently,’ said Rita.

‘We have set visiting hours,’ the sister replied, darting a glance at the doors. ‘And if Matron catches you it’ll be me in trouble. Please leave – now.’

‘I’ll be off too,’ said Ron, throwing back the bedclothes.

‘The doctor said you were not to be discharged until this evening,’ said the ward sister. ‘It is only one o’clock. Please get back into bed, Mr Reilly.’

‘Sure, and it won’t matter a jot if I leave a little earlier.’ Ron grabbed the hospital dressing gown and began to rummage in the bedside locker.

The nurse wrung her hands in distress. ‘Please, Mr Reilly. You can’t just discharge yourself. There are rules and forms and—’

‘Give me the forms and I’ll sign ’em,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll even beard Matron in her den and tell her my decision to leave has nothing to do with you.’

‘That won’t be necessary, Mr Reilly, but I do think you should wait until we can arrange some kind of transport for you. You really aren’t well enough to walk home.’

Ron gathered up his clothes, balancing his boots on top of them. ‘How did you get here, Rita?’

‘On the Norton, but—’

‘Well, that’s good enough for me. I’ll meet you outside once I’ve filled in Sister’s forms and put me clothes back on. Sure a ride on a motorbike will blow the cobwebs of this place away.’

‘Mr Reilly,’ the sister gasped in horror. ‘You can’t possibly—’

‘Nothing’s impossible, Sister – not when I set me mind to it.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the ward doors. ‘Go and start ’er up, girlie. I’ll be with you in a jiffy.’

Rita shot an apologetic look at the flabbergasted nurse and hurried out of the ward. She heard the swing doors clatter behind her and Ron’s cheerful voice as he said goodbye to the other patients, but she didn’t hang about – Matron could already be on her way, and she didn’t fancy the ructions Ron’s escape would incur.

She raced down the stairs, dodged trolleys and porters and hurried outside to the motorbike. She doubted the wisdom of letting Ron ride pillion, but the darling old man knew his own mind, and it wasn’t up to her to question him.

Rita was grinning as she kicked the starter, tweaked the accelerator, and let the engine rumble. Life was always an adventure with Ron, and although he hadn’t really solved her problem, she was profoundly grateful that she’d thought to ask for his help, for now she didn’t feel quite so alone. Between them, they would find a way of persuading Louise to change her mind, she was certain of that.

Rita checked her watch, gauged how long it would take Ron to dress, sign the forms and get down all those stairs. She then slowly drove the bike to the bottom of the front steps. The engine rumbled idly as she waited, and her pulse began to race. She wondered if this was how it felt to break out of prison. She’d seen a film once where the getaway car was waiting outside, the escaped man clambering over the wall, running to the car and shouting at the driver to put his foot down as the alarms began to ring inside the prison and police cars raced to stop them.

Ron appeared at the top of the steps, dressed for once in a decent pair of trousers, shirt, jumper and thick tweed overcoat which no doubt Anne had brought in. His boots had been polished and a cap was pulled low over his eyes to hide the bandage that covered the wound on his head. He carried his pyjamas and washbag rolled up under one arm.

‘Quick, girlie,’ he rasped, stuffing everything into his coat pockets and making them bulge. ‘Matron’s been seen upstairs. It won’t take a moment for the old witch to find I’m gone.’

Rita felt the suspension dip under his weight as she waited for him to settle behind her. ‘Hold on tight, Ron. I don’t want you falling off the back.’

‘To be sure, I was riding bikes before you were a glint in your daddy’s eye. Now get me out of here.’

Rita chuckled as she carefully drove the Norton through the hospital gates and headed along Camden Road. She kept the throttle low and the bike steady, making sure she didn’t swerve too sharply round the potholes in the road, or have to brake too suddenly.

‘I’d kill for a pint of beer, so I would,’ he yelled above the roar of the engine. ‘Would you be after dropping me off at the Anchor for a wee chat with Rosie?’

‘I’ve already broken too many rules today,’ she shouted back. ‘You’re going home, Ron, and that’s an end to it.’ She grinned as she heard him muttering something about the young having no sense of adventure any more and kept on driving past the Anchor to the T-junction at the end of Camden Road.

She rode into Beach View Terrace and parked behind a very swanky Rolls-Royce, which looked as if someone had spent an age washing and polishing it. Switching off the engine, she admired the Rolls as she waited for Ron to clamber off. ‘Doris bought a new car?’

‘Not even in her wildest dream could Doris afford that,’ said Ron. ‘It belongs to Lady Anstruther-Norton – our latest lodger.’

Rita stared at him in amazement. ‘You have a titled lady staying here? How did that happen?’

‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime,’ he muttered, fiddling with his bulging pockets and trying to retrieve his pyjamas.

The front door opened and Anne came carefully down the steps. ‘What on earth do you two think you’re doing?’ she demanded. ‘Granddad, why are you on the back of Rita’s bike when you should be in your hospital bed?’

‘’Tis a long story, so it is,’ said Ron cheerfully. ‘Get the kettle on, lass. Rita and I could do with a decent cup of tea. ’Tis thirsty work, all this escaping.’

‘I should be going back to the factory,’ said Rita.

‘Not until you’ve explained to me why my grandfather has absconded – and why you thought it appropriate for him to ride on the back of that thing.’ Anne was clearly furious as she stood aside, pointed towards the hall and ordered them both indoors.

Rita followed Ron meekly into the hall. Anne was every inch the stern schoolmistress, and Rita felt as if she was about five years old. ‘It wasn’t my idea,’ she began.

‘I don’t doubt it,’ said Anne, closing the door firmly behind them and heading for the kitchen. ‘But I have enough to worry about without you and Granddad causing trouble. Matron has already been on the telephone, and I do
not
appreciate being harangued in such a way over something which I had no part in.’

‘I’m sorry, Anne,’ Rita said quickly, ‘but it was a spur-of-the-minute thing.’

Anne turned and regarded her evenly. ‘You haven’t explained why you were at the hospital in the first place.’

‘Rita needed to talk to me,’ said Ron, shrugging off his coat. ‘That’s all you need to know, Anne, me darling. Now get that kettle on.’

‘Well, well, if it’s not Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow.’ Jim was grinning widely from his seat at the kitchen table. ‘How does it feel to be on Matron Billings’ “most wanted” list?’

‘Ron,’ twittered Mrs Finch, turning from the washing-up in the sink. ‘You are a naughty man, but it’s lovely to have you home, it really is.’

Her words were drowned by the furious sound of barking and scrabbling as Harvey desperately tried to break down the cellar door to get to Ron.

Ron acknowledged his son’s and Mrs Finch’s welcome and hurried to release his dog.

Harvey flew into the kitchen, leaping and bouncing in ecstatic delight as his tail thrashed dangerously close to a pile of china on the table, and his tongue tried to wash every inch of Ron’s hands and face. It was several minutes before order was restored, but the noise had brought everyone into the kitchen, and now it was almost impossible to move about.