The journey back to Scotland was tedious, knowing as they did that it had been a wasted visit for Vera. Flora blamed herself for suggesting it. This civil war was complicated and now that victory for the Nationalists was assured, the future for Republicans was dire.
Rose welcomed them back and Pa was relieved to see them safely home. The ice between him and Vera was melting. He could see how concerned she was for Sandy, fearing the worst. No news is not always good news. To keep busy herself she started attending meetings once more.
There were so many factions, all with different views about what should be done that even Vera was losing heart. Labour stalwarts, trade unionists, Communists, all squabbling.
‘I’m sick of it,’ she announced. ‘The real heroes are out there, shedding blood for freedom. When will it end?’
When any wounded brigadiers returned, she pounced on them for information. The only fresh news was the ban on internationals crossing the border to fight. Now and again, there was an exchange of prisoners.
The Duchess of Atholl’s appeal for Spanish relief came as a welcome distraction. Here was something of which everyone could approve. Tins of dried milk, beans, cocoa, herring, salmon and cash flowed in, and the first of many aid lorries were sent off. Flora was impressed by this energetic aristocrat who could fill a concert hall with her stirring speeches.
There was talk of bringing shiploads of orphans across to Scotland, making hostels for them and sending them to school. Together Vera and Flora forged a common bond on Flag days, garden parties and church collections. Even Pa and Virginia opened Kildowie grounds for a fund-raising event. It raised enough to fill a lorry with tinned goods and fresh clothing.
In the streets around the city, working women knitted comforts for the Scottish Brigade to wear during the winter. There were baby layettes for newborns and warm jumpers for children. Rose held a cake sale for the cause.
In January 1938 after Hogmanay, Flora and Vera were sorting clothes in a church hall in Shettleston, when a man walked through the door who Vera recognised.
‘Patrick! You’re back!’
The man was muffled, with a thick bandage around his throat. He could hardly speak. ‘There you are… Ma told me where to find you. It’s from Sandy…’
Flora thought her sister was going to faint. ‘Is he home? Is he…’ She couldn’t finish her words.
Patrick shook his head. ‘Nae, missus, he’s been wounded and is in hospital. He gave me this letter. Some of us were bussed out, part of some exchange. Sandy was too sick to be moved.’
‘He’s alive, Flora!’ Vera burst into tears, crumpled into a ball with relief.
‘Come away, so you can read your letter in peace.’ The other helpers put their arms around the sobbing girl. Flora drove her back to Park Circus, where her cleaning lady made strong coffee. Vera sat hugging the letter, almost too scared to open it.
Dear lass. I hope this reaches you. We were unlucky, got caught in crossfire, made a bit of a pig’s ear of it. Got a bullet in ma leg and it went awful septic but thanks to the doctor I got seen before it went green but its gey stiff.
Don’t you worry, hen, I’ll be shipped off. I’m nae use with a gammy leg. Getting letters out is not easy or I would have written sooner. Bit of a hellhole here, on all fronts. I will write more through the Red Cross. Take care and keep up the good fight…
Vera read the page over and over. She sniffed the creased paper. ‘It smells of Lysol.’
‘That’s good, then, it must be a clean hospital,’ Flora said. ‘Does he say where?’
‘No, if it was seized, it might be dangerous but I’ll see Patrick again and get the full story. I know which street he’s on.’
‘It’s a rough district. Shall I come with you?’
‘I’d rather you didn’t. I know these people and they’ll not open up with a stranger in the room.’
Flora felt left out. ‘I understand, but I’ll worry.’
‘Look, I can take care of myself. I’m one of them,’ Vera replied, jumping up ready to leave.
No, you are not, Elvira, Flora thought to herself. You’re a Garvie, you have the use of my car. You do charity work and have an allowance from your father. You don’t have to watch the pennies. Dear Aunt Jemima left you provided for and I see you never go without. You can go where you please, with choices those women can only dream of. Vera did have an entrance into that community through Sandy, but she was an outsider, however much she supported them.
Two days later, there was a letter in the tray in the hall, with a familiar scrawl that made Flora dash to tear it open. Maudie Wallace had been in Barcelona, when they were almost in Spain.Their letters had crossed. Her news made Flora shudder. So many innocents killed and wounded and so little help on offer. No wonder they wanted to flee into France.
Flora put the pages down and looked over her city, the park, the fine buildings, folk going about their business, with no fear of fire raining down on them. That was the moment when she knew she had to do something more than raise cash. Vera would carry on the good work and Sandy would return. Sadly, there was no one waiting for her.
When Allan Garvie heard Flora’s plans, he paced the floor in the drawing room.
‘You’re not home five minutes and you want to go back into France. Whatever for?’
‘It’s been months and Maudie’s letter has been on my mind. They need support, not just food and funds but practical help. I was a nurse and there’s nothing holding me here. There’s plenty of folk who can do the meetings, collections, dances and tea parties. I can do more. Listen to what Maudie says: If only you’d come and help. There are feeding stations, collecting stations for orphaned children to drive them to safety. It’s pitiful to see the state of them. I’m due leave. We could meet in Perpignan.’
Allan was not convinced. ‘Virginia and I are worried. The continent is in turmoil. Can we believe this Herr Hitler is to be trusted? Better to stay here and continue the good work. It’s not safe out there.’
‘It wasn’t safe in the war, Pa. I just have a feeling I can be of use down there.’ How could she explain that, ever since her return to Kildowie, nothing felt right? She wanted to see more of the coastline, the hills beyond and the rugged landscape. Were those hills calling her back for a reason? Their visit had been all about finding Sandy. He would return to Vera, of that she was certain but Pa still needed assuring.
‘It would be so good to meet up with Maudie again.’
‘But you’re no spring chicken. In your forties, or have you forgotten?’ Pa argued.
‘I play tennis, golf, hike in the hills. I am strong. I’m not your little girl. I’ll promise to go back by train this time, if it makes you feel better,’ she said, knowing he was right. One look in the mirror showed lips tightening, little crows’ feet by her eyes. It was not as if she was husband hunting. She was returning to be of service.
‘I don’t know, Flo, you’re getting as bad as your sister, on your soapbox…’
‘I’m a widow with means. I’m a war veteran. I have seen death and destruction in so many ways, things you can only imagine. I’ve never talked about that stuff. It’s in the past. I will write and stay safe. I don’t want to spend my life playing bridge, entertaining Ivo’s old comrades, much as I like some of them. I am not in the marriage market, nor am I Aunt Mima.’
‘You always were a gey stubborny piece of work, lass, once a notion gets in your head. I haven’t forgotten how you defied yon census count, tearing a strip off anyone who thought women not worthy of the vote. I can’t stop you. I know that and I am proud of you, always have been.’ He turned to Virginia, who had stayed silent but now nodded in approval.
‘No heroics, Flora, please, and come back to us when it’s all over.’
Flora smiled with relief. She had talked Pa around and knew she had his reluctant blessing. ‘Thank you.’ She hugged him tightly. ‘Now I must go and pack cases and make my peace with Vera. When Sandy returns, they’ll battle on together. You will see them right.’