Christmas for the District Nurses

Joe sighed. ‘All right. We were part of a convoy across the Atlantic and we got hit by a U-boat. I was lucky, I got out with only a broken leg – well, and a few cuts and bruises. Some of my crewmates died.’ She gasped in horror and he hastily continued. ‘We weren’t in the water for long, we got rescued by an American ship, it could have been far worse.’ He looked away, unable to watch her face as she took it in. He didn’t want to see her distress. ‘Then we got brought back to port and I’ve been laid up ever since.’

‘Joe …’ She rested her hand on his arm, regardless of the mud. She struggled to find words to encompass the terror of what he must have been through, and failed. ‘We had no idea …’

‘No. Well.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Didn’t want to worry anyone, did I? And as you can see, I’m almost as good as new. This will mend in no time.’ He smiled, to try to convince her. ‘So will you come for dinner tomorrow? Ma’s planning one of her specials, and she’ll be mortally offended if you turn her down.’

Alice nodded immediately. ‘I wouldn’t dream of saying no. I can bring a contribution too – as you can see, we’ve been busy with the vegetables. We’ve got the last of the leeks, and I was just sowing the new lot when you got here.’ At least there was something practical she could offer.

Joe nodded appreciatively. ‘Ma would love that. As long as we aren’t depriving you. Will you ask Edith as well?’

Alice looked over his shoulder. ‘You can ask her yourself.’

Edith had come around the corner and was waving a brown paper bag at Alice. ‘Found them! I’d put them in my drawer after that seed swap … Joe! Oh my goodness! Is that really you?’ She ran towards him and then halted abruptly, realising he was leaning heavily on a walking stick. ‘What happened?’

‘Good to see you, Edith.’ He grinned affectionately at the diminutive young woman who would one day be his sister-in-law. ‘I’ll let Alice explain my mishap, and then with luck we can talk properly tomorrow – you will come to dinner, won’t you?’

‘Just you try and stop me!’ Edith beamed. ‘Wait, you’re not off already, are you? I’ve only now got here.’

Joe shrugged. ‘Sorry, but I’m needed back at home.’ He kept his smile steady, not wanting to reveal that the short walk from Jeeves Street had cost him more than he had thought. He would have to sit down very soon and not try to go so far next time. He’d half-planned to ask Alice to come to their old café with him, but now that was out of the question. How he hated being a semi-invalid. He didn’t know how his brother Harry bore it. ‘Sorry to leave so soon but it’s good to see you, it really is.’

Edith nodded and Alice looked at him straight in the eye, realising what the problem was. ‘Yes, you’d better get back, you don’t want to make your leg any worse than it is,’ she said seriously. She could see how his face was becoming more drawn by the minute. ‘Why don’t I come with you and tell you everything you’ve missed these last few months. And of course we’ll be there tomorrow, and we’ll arrive early so we can help cook the leeks. Can’t wait.’

‘Yes, give your parents my love,’ Edith said, her eyes growing darker as it dawned on her that the tall man in front of her was in increasing pain. ‘You get home and have a good sit down, do you hear? Let Alice take your arm. That’s my professional advice and you ignore it at your peril.’

‘I wouldn’t dare,’ said Joe.

It was almost like old times around the big table in the Banham kitchen, except for the absence of Harry and Lennie. Flo was determined to make it special, and had invited Kathleen, Billy and Brian as well as the two nurses to join the family. She had managed to persuade one of the stallholders at Ridley Road market to get her a large chicken, which she had roasted, along with carrots and potatoes, now glistening and golden. Even better, as Alice got there early as promised with her big bundle of leeks, she had made soup for them to start with, and the savoury aroma had made everyone’s stomachs rumble in anticipation.

Flo had reacted with horror when Alice offered to cook the soup. ‘Never let it be said that a guest in my house had to make their own food with ingredients they brought themselves,’ she scolded. ‘As if you aren’t on your feet every day of the week. You go and have a nice cup of tea and I’ll see to that soup.’ She had wiped her hands firmly on her old apron, worn to protect her Sunday best outfit. Alice recognised the maroon blouse with a pattern of daisies as the one Flo had worn for Kathleen’s wedding.

So Alice had retreated to the parlour with her cup and saucer from Flo’s best set, brought out in honour of the day, where she found Joe in an armchair by the window, facing the street.

‘Don’t get up,’ she said hurriedly, but too late, Joe was already rising. He was leaning on his stick, but she could see less heavily than yesterday. He really shouldn’t have tried to walk to the victory garden and back, she thought, but didn’t say so. By the time they had reached his parents’ house he had been all but silent, all his energy going into putting one foot in front of the other.

‘Can’t let my manners slip just because of a broken leg.’ his usual grin was a little laboured. ‘Sorry about yesterday. Tried to do too much too soon.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Alice said, setting down her cup on a side table and pulling across another chair to join him. ‘Shall I fetch you a cup of tea?’

‘Good God, no. Ma’s been bringing me tea ever since I set foot through the door. Not that I don’t appreciate it but you can have enough.’ He sat down again, pulling a face. ‘So, tell me your news, but properly this time. I didn’t really take it in yesterday.’

She leaned back and smiled, taking in the welcome sight of him looking less haggard, better rested, bringing back the colour to his intelligent face. His dark hair had been freshly cropped into its regulation service style, but his deep brown eyes were relaxed, without the sharp edge she’d detected yesterday.

‘Stop looking at me like I’m one of your patients.’

‘I’m not.’ She blushed a little and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

‘You are. I can tell.’

‘Oh, all right. I can’t help it. I’m bound to be concerned – you’ve been away so long and then you turn up with a broken leg and horrific story about how it happened.’ She shifted a little in her chair. ‘Anyway, you’ve heard everything in my letters. We’re just glad the raids seem to have stopped, for now at least. You’d better tell me the rest of your news though.’

Joe nodded and grew serious. ‘As it’s just us … I don’t want to make my parents more worried than they already are.’ He paused and then went on. ‘It seemed for a while as if we were getting better at working out where the U-boats were, and there were fewer attacks. But now we’re suffering more of them and we aren’t able to predict their movements like before.’

Alice wrinkled her nose in concentration. ‘So what’s changed?’

Joe looked a little uneasy. ‘I can’t really say …’

‘But if I guessed that someone from the Allies had worked out how their signals were coded,’ Alice said slowly, feeling her way carefully through her train of thought, ‘and then the Germans realised their code had been broken and so altered it, would I be right?’

Joe smiled wryly. ‘You haven’t changed a bit, Alice.’

She exhaled deeply and then looked at him with a quizzical expression. ‘So is that what you do, Joe?’

She knew Joe had exceeded what might have been expected of a boy growing up in the heart of Dalston, by winning a place at technical college and then training as an engineer with the Post Office, before deciding his talents would be best put to the nation’s service by enlisting in the navy. Flo and Stan were extremely proud of their son’s achievements and feared that his golden future might be curtailed by the risks he ran. Yet they would have it no other way; the country needed talent like Joe’s.

Now he gazed out of the window before answering. ‘Not quite. The real brainboxes stay on land, working behind desks. They’d never be able to think straight on board a ship like ours – well, what it used to be like. No, but someone’s got to put their ideas into practice, and that’s more or less what I do. There. Now you know. Not to be mentioned outside this room.’

Alice briefly shut her eyes to absorb this new knowledge. Her admiration for the man grew even stronger. ‘Of course not,’ she breathed. She realised her pulse had quickened. What danger he must be in, for so much of the time. But she didn’t want to give away that worry. He was home to recuperate, not be burdened with her concern. ‘Well then, you’d better not ruin your chances of getting back to it by walking too far on that leg of yours.’ Her eyes met his as he turned away from the window, and again she felt that jolt of connection that went beyond words.

‘Yes, nurse,’ he said mock-meekly, and they laughed, just as the door opened.

‘Here they are!’ Edith sang out, and Gillian rushed in, keen to see her uncle on his all-too-rare visit. ‘Mind his leg, duck. And here’s Alan.’ Edith held the little boy, now eighteen months old, in her arms and beamed at him as he waved his hands. ‘Can you say “Joe”? Try it.’

‘Ow-ow-ow,’ said Alan obligingly, smart in his checked shirt and flannel shorts that Alice thought must be made from one of his mother’s worn-out skirts. As Edith was distracted by the baby and showing him to his uncle, Alice noticed her friend’s face. Delight was written all over it, in a way that she never showed when at work. Alice wondered with a start how long it would be before Edith could marry her Harry and have a child of her own.

Then there was no time to think further about it as the food was ready and they were all summoned into the kitchen, drawn by the irresistible smells of delicious soup, overlaid by roasting chicken. Alice quietly made sure that Joe could sit at the end of the big table and rest his stick in one corner, while the others settled onto the mismatch of chairs as best they could. Gillian and Brian proudly perched on plump cushions placed on dining chairs and Alan was placed in the high chair.

‘Don’t give him more than one potato at a time,’ his mother Mattie warned as she cleared away the soup bowls, ‘or he’s liable to throw them at you. He thinks it’s a great game.’ She frowned lovingly at him as she helped her own mother pass the platters laden with vegetables. ‘Here, Billy, try some carrots.’

Billy heaped Kathleen’s plate before his own, passing the platter to Alice. She caught the look that passed between them and wondered what it meant. They seemed to be full of suppressed excitement, beyond the thought of one of Flo’s famous special dinners. She wondered what it could be. All in good time, she told herself, piling carrots onto Joe’s plate.

‘You don’t have to do that – it’s my leg that’s broken, not my arm,’ he protested, half putting out a hand to stop her.

‘I’ve done it now,’ she grinned, registering the warmth of his hand as it brushed against her own.

‘Tuck in, everyone. Let’s not stand on ceremony,’ Stan urged them, and nobody needed to be told twice.

It wasn’t until Mattie led the two toddlers into the back kitchen to have their hands and faces wiped at the end of the meal that Billy let slip the secret.

‘There’ll be another one to clear up after soon,’ he laughed, and then clapped his hand over his mouth, realising what he’d said. Kathleen began to nod and then saw that everyone was staring at them.

‘Really, Kath? Is that why you’ve been eating like a bird?’ Edith demanded. ‘I wondered what was up. Aren’t you the dark horse?’

‘Congratulations, that’s wonderful news,’ said Flo warmly. ‘How lovely, a brother or sister for Brian. When is it due?’

‘In the late summer,’ said Kathleen, leaving the date deliberately vague. She knew that nobody around this table would judge her, but wanted to get into the habit of giving that answer. She was fairly sure that if anybody counted, they would know that this baby had been conceived before the December wedding. She hoped that if it was late then no one would bat an eyelid. Whenever it arrived, she knew it would be loved by everybody here.

‘Well done, Billy.’ Joe jokingly punched his friend’s arm. ‘Good job you had plenty of practice going without sleep in the raids. You won’t get a full night’s kip now.’

‘Don’t I know it,’ said Billy, trying to look regretful and failing.

Once again Alice caught the look on Edith’s face, similar to the one she’d noticed when her friend was carrying Alan earlier that afternoon. Sooner or later, Edith was going to want a family of her own. Alice didn’t want to think about it; she had relied on Edith ever since they’d met on their first day of specialist training to become district nurses. They had been inseparable ever since. Of course she had known that this could not continue for ever, especially when Edith became serious about Harry. But there had been so many changes in those few short years; this felt like one too many.

‘Is something wrong?’ Joe murmured, giving her a careful glance. He edged a little closer to her.

‘No, nothing at all,’ Alice assured him, keeping her voice low so that nobody else could hear it over the buzz of congratulations. ‘Everything is lovely. Such a wonderful meal.’ She could feel the warmth emanating from him.

‘Good,’ he said, watching her keenly.

For a moment she fervently wished that he could stay for longer than his brief leave, that she could share her cares and worries with him and he would tell her not to be so silly. He could always put things into perspective for her. Yet that was impossible. She must not even think about it. Gratefully she looked at him and absorbed his warmth while she still could.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Peggy was bored. Mrs Cannon had tried to persuade her to go to church on Easter Sunday morning but she hadn’t attended. There seemed no point. It was at moments like these, when families traditionally gathered together, that she missed Pete most keenly. Mrs Cannon had been a little disappointed but hadn’t pressed her. ‘I’ve been invited to eat with my WVS friends afterwards,’ she’d said. ‘Would you like to come too?’

Peggy had only just avoided shuddering in front of her mother-in-law. To sit and talk about knitting for hours at a time was her idea of torture. Now she sat at the kitchen table with the wireless on in the background, the Halle orchestra blazing away, staring blankly out of the window into the small yard.

Perhaps she should copy Mattie’s example and grow a few things. That would give her something to do and Mrs Cannon would appreciate it. It would be an excuse to get outdoors, now that the raids had stopped. Mattie had said she could have some seeds, and Edith could maybe get more from those seed swaps she went to. Peggy sighed. She’d never grown anything before and wasn’t sure if she could start now.

She glanced down at her hands. Her skin was pale, and prone to freckles. Her nails were short, necessary for working in the factory. Nail polish was hard to come by and she hadn’t bothered for ages. Just one more thing lost in the misery of the war. For two pins she could have burst into tears.

There was a knock at the door.

Peggy had no idea who it could be. Not Clarrie – her family always had a big meal on Easter Sunday, and she would be on kitchen duty. No one else came to call for her. Perhaps something had happened to Mrs Cannon. Hastily she ran her fingers through her hair to bring it to some semblance of tidiness and tugged at the collar of her frayed pink blouse. She hadn’t expected to see anyone today and had dressed in any old thing, Easter or no Easter.

The front door had a glass panel towards the top, crisscrossed with brown tape against bomb blasts, and with one corner cracked since a raid last spring. She could pick out the silhouette of a figure, taller than her but not as tall as the Banham brothers. She was none the wiser.

Peggy could not have been more surprised at the man in unfamiliar uniform who stood there as she opened the door.

‘Well, hello, Peggy. Remember me?’ He smiled broadly and swept off his olive-coloured cap.

‘James?’ She could scarcely believe her eyes. She had heard nothing from the young soldier after their night in the dance hall, which at first had surprised her, but then she assumed anything could have happened. He could have been stringing her along – plenty did. He could have met another girl he liked better. He might have been killed in training or combat. You could drive yourself mad thinking about the what-ifs. It was better not to think at all.

‘That’s right. Ain’t you going to invite me in?’

Peggy could see at least one set of net curtains was twitching in the houses across the narrow road. Well, this will give the old gossips something to talk about, she thought.

‘Yes.’ She smiled back at him, remembering what lovely eyes he had. ‘Yes, of course. Come on through.’

‘I’m sorry to turn up all of a sudden,’ he said, as she took him into the small kitchen. The front parlour was too suffocating and formal. She didn’t know how they did things in the States. ‘You must have thought I forgot you, not writing to you like we said.’

‘Well …’ Peggy felt caught out. After all, she hadn’t written to him either. She had felt that would be too forward. She didn’t need to go chasing after any old soldier on scant acquaintance; she had her pride, which God knew had been dented enough. If he wanted to contact her first, that would be a different matter.

‘See, I mislaid your address,’ he rushed in, hastening to make things right. ‘I thought I had it tucked away safe and all, but when I came to look I couldn’t find it. You got to believe me, Peggy, I was real keen to write to you.’ He hesitated and she sensed he meant it. She relented a little.

‘I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?’

He looked at her blankly.

‘To make tea. You do drink tea?’

He laughed. ‘Sure I do. Yes please. Got to have a cup of tea in a proper British home.’

‘That’s right,’ she said, wondering if this was what he thought a proper British home was like. ‘Only we don’t have much sugar. Will just milk be all right?’

‘I don’t have much of a taste for sugar,’ he said, easing the collar of his olive shirt. ‘What happened was, I must have slung my jacket down and the notebook fell out. I couldn’t find it nowhere. I searched high and low, but it wasn’t until I opened a pocket of my bag that I found it. Must have fallen in. Then they said we were coming through London at the end of our training and I thought a letter might not get here in time, so I’d take a chance and just show up.’

Peggy nodded, taking this in. Was it likely? Was he spinning her a tale? He sounded genuine, and he looked contrite.

‘Did I do right?’ he asked.

She decided to take a chance. ‘Yes,’ she said. She had the sensation that she had just crossed a line. Steadying her hands she made the tea, pouring a careful amount of fresh leaves into the warmed pot, taking the milk from the cold shelf in the back pantry, putting it into a little jug. The familiar ritual calmed her. ‘Sorry, I haven’t got any biscuits.’

‘Don’t need no biscuits.’ He smiled up at her and she could see how good-looking he was, in his army uniform. She remembered how strong his arms had felt as they moved together on the dance floor. He sipped his tea with appreciation. ‘Say, is this your place? Do you live here with your folks?’

It was the moment of truth. Of course everyone around here knew about Pete. Yet when she’d gone out dancing since his death, Peggy had never so much as mentioned him. That part of her life was closed to the servicemen she met at dances or in the pub, who thought she was looking for fun and a good time.

‘Sort of,’ she said, reaching a decision. ‘Tell you what. Let’s drink our tea and then go for a walk.’ She couldn’t talk about Pete in his own mother’s house. That felt like a betrayal. But for the first time since the news from Dunkirk had come, she felt she could confide in a stranger. ‘Then I’ll explain. Does that sound all right?’

His eyes brightened, clearly relieved that she hadn’t slung him out on his ear. ‘Sure, Peggy. Whatever you say.’

‘I’m so sorry to bother you,’ said the young woman in smart uniform. ‘I know you’ll probably have other plans for Easter Sunday afternoon, but we’re dreadfully short down at the ambulance station, so we thought we’d try the nurses’ home for backup. There’s been an accident; at least one child’s been badly hurt.’

Belinda stepped back from the large front door, which was shiny as ever in a fresh coat of navy paint to show that – no matter what the neighbourhood had been through – the nurses’ home was still in good shape. ‘It’s all right. You’d better come in and wait while I grab my bag – it’s Geraldine, isn’t it? We worked together before, with those people from the block of flats with smoke inhalation.’

The woman with the bright blue eyes nodded. ‘Clever of you to remember. And you’re … Belinda, aren’t you? I do apologise for ruining your Easter.’

Belinda shrugged. ‘I’m Jewish, actually, and I don’t celebrate it. So I’m free to come along.’ She ran up the stairs towards the upper-storey bedrooms and reappeared a minute later, now changed and with her Gladstone bag. ‘Let’s go. Where’s it happened? Do you know what we’re likely to find?’

Geraldine hurried out towards the ambulance parked at the end of Victory Walk. ‘It’s only the other side of the Downs; that’s why we got the call, as our station’s so close,’ she explained. ‘A wall collapsed, and apparently there were several kids playing on the pavement beneath. Perhaps they’d been trying to climb the wall, we don’t know, but it didn’t sound good.’

‘Oh, poor things.’ Belinda hopped into the passenger side as Geraldine swung herself into the driver’s seat and instantly started the engine, her muscular arms turning the wheel in a well-practised move. Belinda remembered that the woman had been extremely competent in the smoke inhalation incident, and was relieved that – if they were to be the only two on the scene – she would be partnered by somebody who knew what she was doing.

The far side of Hackney Downs, the big green open space a stone’s throw from the nurses’ home, was only a short distance away, and before the war it would have been an easy drive, but Geraldine had to navigate numerous potholes, keeping a fine balance between arriving at the accident as quickly as possible and yet not shaking her passenger and herself half to death on the bumps, cracks and craters in the road surface. Belinda had to grit her teeth as the vehicle shuddered along, thanking her lucky stars that the injured children weren’t further away.

It was obvious where the trouble was as they drew closer. An old brick wall had clearly given way, and the back of a shop was visible through the gap. A couple of small boys were sitting on the pavement, and leaning over the pile of bricks was an ARP warden. Belinda screwed up her eyes to try to see who it was; it wouldn’t be Stan or Billy, as they were going to be at Flo’s big dinner. It must be Brendan, their colleague, who was a stallholder at Ridley Road market. She knew he was good with children, and exhaled in a sigh of relief.

‘Ready?’ Geraldine swung the ambulance close to the kerb, her hand already on the door handle.

‘Ready,’ Belinda confirmed, picking up her leather bag and jumping out. She ran towards the bricks and then stopped. Brendan was moving them one by one but at high speed, and from this close Belinda could see why. A small pair of feet stuck out from the edge of the pile.

‘Brendan, what’s happened?’ she asked.

He turned. ‘Ah, Nurse Adams. I’m glad to see you.’ She could tell he was keeping his voice deliberately calm in order not to frighten the little boys, but his eyes were dark with urgency.

‘Tell you what,’ said Geraldine, pitching up her sleeves, ‘I’ll give you a hand there if you, nurse, wouldn’t mind checking on these two. No sense in us all crowding round that poor little blighter.’