Vera's Valour (11 page)

It wasn’t from Geoff - but it was about him.

The Ministry of Defence
.
Regret to inform you
. . . Vera’s eyes became awash with tears as she scanned the typewritten letter. She swiped the moisture from them as she read on.

Colonel G. Parkington, Royal Engineers
. . .

Casualty.

That was the word that stuck in her brain. Geoff had been injured.

She breathed heavily and was became aware that the dogs were looking at her with concern. It was remarkable how they knew she was upset.

It was some time before she could read the letter properly. But when she did. she found she had already gathered the most important information. Geoff had been brought back to England with war wounds, and was in a military hospital.

With a thundering heart Vera knew that for all she had already been through since the war began: losing her first boyfriend, Bill, and the daily hardships wartime brought, as well as her hairy trip to France and seeing the devastation there - now she was faced with terrible uncertainty with what had happened to her beloved Geoff.

How badly hurt was he?

How long she remained in a trance she didn’t know, but she suddenly became aware that the light had gone and she was sitting in darkness. She supposed she’d been asleep. And she hoped the contents of the letter was just a nightmare. But it was not and she had to rouse herself and get on with her duties.

Even the dogs had crouched down and not prodded her to be fed.

Vera,
she told herself,
shake yourself out of this gloom
.

Feed the dogs, feed yourself for the baby’s sake - and phone Mum in the morning because it wouldn’t be fair to phone her before she went to bed so that she would be worrying all night long.

Having settled her mind about what she had to do, Vera got up and went about her tasks like a robot.

She slept well because she’d had a busy day, and carrying the heavy baby around was tiring.

* * *

In the morning she looked out on a sprinkling of snow covering the landscape around the cottage. Blimey, snow before Christmas!

She had to phone the Ministry of Defence and find out about Geoff. Where he was and what injuries he’d suffered.

Having let the dogs out and made herself eat a little breakfast as she was trying to find the courage to make the phone calls when she heard whistling outside. The boy delivering the milk was ladling out her milk from the churn into her can.

“Morning, Mrs Parkington,” he said when she opened the door to pick up the fresh milk, “sorry if I woke you up.”

“Oh, you didn’t. I’ve been up for ages. What are the roads like?”

“Slippery. Don’t you go out, missus.”

“No I won’t Jim. Will you tell your Dad I won’t be bring the dogs over to him today, please?”

The fifteen year old boy gave her a wide grin and hopped back into his cart flicking the horse’s reins so that they moved off, with him whistling loudly enough for it to be heard for minutes after he’d left the cottage grounds.

She took a deep breath and phoned her mother.

“Mum, I want you to sit down.”

“I am sitting down. What’s the matter?”

“It’s Geoff. I’ve heard he’s . . . “ Vera could hear her mother catch her breath as she waiting for her daughter to tell her the news. “Geoff’s been hurt. Injured.”

“Oh, I am sorry! What is it? ”

Vera realizes her mother wanted to know about Geoff’s injuries and she thought she should have phoned the MOD first and found out. But she just wanted to share her grief that he had been injured – to get some support and comfort from her mother first.

But was anyone comforting Geoff at this moment?

“Mum, I don’t know what he has suffered yet. I ought to have found out . . . “

“Yes, love, you ought to be told. I wish I could be with you.”

Vera wanted to be with her mother too, but she mentioned the snow and ice on the roads and they both agreed it would not be wise for her to visit today.

“Vera,” her mother said, “I think if his injuries were life threatening you would have been called to his bedside.”

“I suppose so. Anyway, I’ll ring again when I know something more about him.”

Ringing off, Vera then plucked up the courage to ring the military number, and after awhile she got though to a senior doctor who told her that Geoffrey Parkington was being transferred to another hospital and that she should ring them in a couple of days when they had had time to assess him.

“But can’t you tell me if he has, er, lost a leg - or something?”

“No, he hasn’t. His wounds were minor. But, well you must understand he has suffered from the blast . . . mentally.”

Vera closed her eyes. She knew nothing about the mental scars of war. How they would affect him – and her,

The doctor was continuing to talk, “You will have to come and see him. The doctor in charge of his case will explain things to you.”

“Yes,” said Vera woodenly, “I expect he will.”

“Mrs Parkington.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve seen far worse cases than his. I’m sure he will recover. But it’s a slow process and will require a lot of patience from you.”

“Thank you doctor.”

In her shocked state, Vera put down the phone and waited until she’d made herself a cup of tea, and with a shaky hand she drank it. She longed to rush to the hospital and see Geoff. But it was impossible. She hadn’t the petrol to make a long car trip down to the south coast. Anyway, the roads were not safe for travelling. And her baby was due before long. No, she couldn’t possibly go and see him. She would have to ring the hospital where Geoff was and explain.

Next, she rang her mother again and told her.

Sympathetic, and as concerned as she was, Mrs Alice Carter was not the kind of person to see the worst of the situation. “As the doctor told you, Vera, he will get better, I’m sure. In the meantime he is being looked after and you have his child to think about, don’t you?”

Vera certainly had. She began to wonder how long she would have to wait until the child was born.

“Yes, Mum,” she said, trying to sound more cheerful that she felt at that moment.

She was excited about the coming birth – yet apprehensive too as it was her first child.

Margaret too had to be told that she wouldn’t be coming into work. Vera was pleased to think that their previous day together had been worthwhile. and she didn’t have to worry about the continuation of the job she was leaving.

Now only the future had to be met with courage. The future for her, and her mentally suffering husband, and their war baby - which she felt was due soon.

* * *

Her mother was more concerned about Vera than she’d let on. She went down the road to talk to John about it.

“Come in Alice,” John said, as she ushered her into his sitting room, “you shouldn’t have gone out on these slippery pavements. You could have fallen over.”

Alice bristled. “I might be a grandmother soon, but I’m not that decrepit.”

“No, no you are not. But you could do without a broken arm or leg, m’dear.”

They were a companionable couple and as they sat either side of the fire, and John’s dog came nestling up for a stroke or two, Alice told him about the news she’d heard from Vera.

“We called it shell shock in the First World War,” John said. “I reckon most of us in the firing line suffered from it to some extent.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t as crippled by it as some men were who came home from the front. But I suffered all right. Battle scars made me feel numb and gave me nightmares. But I was all right after awhile. Some ex-soldiers took far longer to heal and a few never recovered. When those men got home they took to drinking too much - and many marriages were affected.”

Alice shuddered as she sat and stroking the dog’s ears and stared at the small coal fire they were allowed in wartime. “I don’t like Vera being on her own,” she said, “and her baby is due soon - in fact anytime now.”

“Mmm. I’m sorry I can’t offer to run you over to her cottage. I haven’t the petrol. But I’m sure Vera being such a sensible girl will have some made some arrangements for the birth.”

“Yes, she has asked for an ambulance to take her to hospital when her time is near. And the farmer will take the care of her dogs until she is able to cope with them again. It’s just that being her mother . . .” her voice wobbled, “I just want to be there, with her, at this very hard time for her.”

“Of course you do.” He looked across at Vera’s mother with understanding.

Suddenly sitting up straight in his armchair he said, “I tell you what. We can get you a taxi over to her cottage. It will cost the earth - but you’ll both be far happier being together, won’t you?”

Alice looked at John with a smile. “You’re such a kind man.”

Having to act and phone for a taxi, and pack a few clothes was far better for Alice than moping and wondering what was happening to her daughter.

Later that day, Alice, muffled in her coat, hat, gloves and scarf, with her suitcase, knitting bag and spare spectacles – and stone hot water bottle in case Vera didn’t have one, was bundled into a taxi.

“Now don’t you worry, Alice. I’ll cancel your milk and newspaper.”

“John, dear, Look after yourself.”

“You too, Alice. And give my love to Vera.”

“’Course I will.”

Being driven over to the cottage gave Alice time to calm herself, as she looked out over the snow white countryside. A hard frost had made the earth look dead. Trees, leafless and lifeless.

It was, Alice thought, a time for Nature’s long sleep. The earth was recovering, and would burst out with fresh young growth in a few months time.

And by that time Alice hoped many other good things would happen.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

VERA was naturally delighted to see a taxi draw up and her mother being helped out of the car by the driver.

As the dogs barked, Mrs Carter made sure she had all her bits and pieces taken into the cottage, while the driver folded the rug that had been over the lady’s legs to keep them warm during the journey, before he waved and headed back to Lynn before it became dark.

“I feel as if a huge weight has been taken off my shoulders,” exclaimed Vera, kissing her mother again.

Alice’s eyes looked at her daughter’s huge belly and smiled as she said, “It won’t be long before you have another weight shifted off you,” she said.

Stroking her bump, Vera said, “I’ll be glad when it’s all over. He is really getting in my way now.”

“You think it’s going to be a boy, then?”

“Well, I hope so because then he will have his own new clothes and won’t have to keep wearing Deanna’s cast offs.”

Over a cup of tea they had much to discuss. And soon the conversation got around to Geoff’s condition.

“I worry about him, I really do,” said Vera.

Her mother cupped her hands in her face and murmured, “Of course you do, love. I think you have every reason to be worried. That’s why I came to be with you. To see you through this bad patch.”

“Do you think,” Vera stroked the rim of her cup with her finger thoughtfully, “Geoff will be different?”

“Oh yes, he’s bound to be after what he’d been though. And so of course will you be, becoming a mum. You’ll have to renew your marriage I expect as things may be quite different.”

“What if Geoff doesn’t love me anymore?”

“Don’t worry about that now. The hospital is looking after him at present and I doubt if you could do any better for him. When you’ve had your baby and he is coming home you can see how he is, and decided how you can help him. You’ll be given some advice from the doctors, I’m sure.”

Vera’s teeth went over her bottom lip. She didn’t want to succumb to talking about what effects his war injuries might have on Geoff in the long term.

She had her baby due to arrive – and her Mum was with her - which was the best possible comfort she could have.

* * *

“IT’S a boy!”

Vera’s hands covered the tiny body placed on her chest as great relief and tiredness overwhelmed her.

She and Geoff had a son.

The midwife was a no nonsense type of nurse, but for Vera’s first experience of childbirth, she’d given her all the benefit of having delivered hundreds of babies into the world.

Vera’s labour was over. Seeing her baby son a great joy. But there was something important lacking in the completeness of her happiness. Her husband was far away and he should be rejoicing too.

“Have you decide on a name for your baby?” she was asked.

She’d given it some consideration. She really hoped to consult Geoff, but before she’d gone into labour she’d been unable to see him and ask him. The winter weather made it impossible for her to travel by train to visit him in hospital. And the petrol was not available to go by car. So she had to make up her own mind what to call the child.

“Victor,” she replied.

Victor was Geoff’s second name, and she liked it. The child had been born at a time of victory for the Allied forces in Europe. Not that they had beaten the German’s yet - but the outcome would be – as Geoff had told her after D-Day, just a matter of time.

But she still had heartache over Geoff. Still no news of his recovery from being caught in a bomb blast.

Her mother was ecstatic at the birth of her grandson - and so were Geoff’s hotel owning family when they knew. It was a pity they were all living so far from each other they couldn’t rejoice together as a family. Nevertheless, Vera was grateful of her mother’s presence and practical help with looking after her and her child when they got back to the cottage. Keeping the mother and infant warm and washing and drying clothes and nappies wasn’t the easiest chore in a old cottage with only one fire in the range to keep the place warm.

As Vera’s strength returned she was able to take over cooking meals for them, trying to give her elderly mother more chance to rest.

“Whew! I had no idea having a child would involve so much work,” she exclaimed.