On the third day of Paddy’s illness, Ella knew that she too was coming down with the dreaded virus. As she listened to the hacking cough and moans of pain coming from Paddy, a sudden dizziness seized her. Leaning forward, she rested her head on Paddy’s bed. How long she’d been sitting next to her, she couldn’t remember, but now her body didn’t want to sit, but cried out to be allowed to lie down. Every limb felt heavy, and her head pounded with pain. When she lifted it, the room spun.
But how could she be ill? Who would take care of Nanny and Paddy? Somehow she had to beat this. Trying to stand up brought on a feeling of nausea. Grabbing the bucket that she’d placed next to the bed for Paddy to use, she retched her heart out.
‘Ella? Ella, what’s wrong? Oh . . . no, Ella. No.’
Wiping her mouth, Ella patted Paddy’s hand. ‘Pregnancy sickness – that’s all.’ But she knew that wasn’t all, because surely such a condition didn’t make every part of you shiver and yet feel as though you were burning up?
Paddy lifted herself onto her elbow. ‘Ella, y – you’re shaking. Is it that you don’t you feel well?’
‘I – I feel very unwell. Oh dear, Paddy, what are we going to do?’
‘Get yourself on the bed and lie down. It – it’s early, yet. We’ll think of something.’
‘I’ll . . . take the bucket out. I can’t leave it.’
Holding on to the bed and then the chair, Ella made it to the door with the bucket. Once there, her legs gave way. Somehow she managed to keep the bucket upright. But she bruised her leg as she caught it on the doorframe. Waiting a moment for the stinging pain to subside, she lay down and tried rolling over to move herself, but she couldn’t. A weakness, like none she’d ever known, had overcome her whole body.
‘Ella . . . Oh, Ella.’
A blanket came over her. ‘I – I’m not able to lift you, but it is that I can fetch a pillow for you and be for making you comfortable.’
A swirling mist swamped Ella. As parts of it cleared, faces came at her – the hateful Jim, grinning at her, taunting her. She tried to slap him, but her arms were too heavy. Then another face: one that she knew, and yet didn’t know. He had a beard and dark, twinkly eyes. She giggled. She was a child. The man tickled her tummy and called her his beautiful little Marjella. He was speaking in Polish.
‘Tatus'?’ The word for ‘Daddy’ came so easily to her. This was her Tatus'. She remembered him . . . but he was going. He was leaving her. ‘Nie idz', Tatus' . . . No, don’t go, Daddy . . . Tatus'. Noooo!’
Pain tightened her chest. She couldn’t breathe. It was so hot, and yet she felt cold. Icy cold. Again she tried to move, but every part of her body hurt. Nothing worked as it should. It felt as if a great weight was on her, holding her down. Her head screamed with agony. But then the swirling began again, only this time it dragged her towards a black hole. She tried to fight, but couldn’t. The hole sucked her into its depths.
‘Miss Wronski, come on now. Take a drink. That’s right. One sip at a time.’
The water was cold. It soothed Ella’s burning throat. But who was giving her the drink? She hadn’t heard the voice before.
‘There, that’s better. You’re looking a lot brighter today. I think you have turned a corner.’
‘Who . . .?’ The word rasped her throat. She couldn’t say any more.
‘I’m Nurse Flemming. You’re in hospital. Your friend is in the bed next to you. She has almost fully recovered now.’
‘Nan – ny?’
‘It’s all right, Ella. It is that your nanny is back in the nursing home.’
‘Paddy? Oh, Paddy, h – how?’
‘I was for managing to get to the door and called out to a passing stranger. Thank the Good Lord, he happened to be a kindly gentleman. I asked him to go for your doctor and to tell him to get to us as quickly as he could.’
‘My . . . my baby?’
‘I’m heart-sorry, Ella, it is that you—’
‘It – it’s gone?’
‘Yes.’ The voice of the nurse again. ‘You miscarried. This flu virus does that to some pregnant women. I’m very sorry. Although, given your unwed state, I expect you will be pleased.’
Pleased? No. Not pleased. A deep sadness overcame Ella. The depth of it surprised her, as she hadn’t wanted Jim’s baby, and yet somehow she’d bonded with the tiny spec inside her, and part of her had been looking forward to welcoming her child. A tear slid a cold trail down her hot cheek.
‘I’m sure you will come to look on this as a blessing, Miss Wronski. Now, it won’t do you any good to get upset. You are verging on being very ill, and you must put your mind to good thoughts and to getting better.’
As the nurse walked away, Ella wondered if she had ever sounded like that to any of her patients. Had her encouragement come across as so cold-hearted? She hoped not.
‘Ella, now don’t be taking any notice of her. It is . . . judgemental that she is. But oh, Ella, it is good to see you are awake, so it is—’ A fit of coughing overcame Paddy.
Ella turned her head, afraid at the hacking, chesty sound. ‘Ooh, my neck!’
‘I know, it is that the pain is everywhere. But keep willing yourself well – it is for being the only way. We knew that, when we were nursing, we could be doing all the right things and still suffer the loss of our patient, if they were not for having that will to get better.’
‘M – my baby . . .’
‘It is sad, I know, Ella—’ Again the coughing.
‘Paddy, your chest sounds bad. Don’t talk. I’m sorry, I will be all right.’
‘Call . . . on your wee one’s soul to help you.’
Weakness seized Ella once more. She couldn’t answer Paddy. Closing her eyes, she tried to think good thoughts, ones that would give her the will to live. But the haze that was never far away took her and she went into a deep sleep.
The nurse woke her. ‘Miss Wronski, a note has been delivered for you. Do you want me to read it to you?’
‘Y – yes. Thank you.’
The sound of the note being opened seemed magnified a thousandfold, rasping the throbbing pain in Ella’s head.
‘Oh, it’s from Miss Embury, one of the directors of the Red Cross.’
Ella’s heart jolted. ‘How d – does she know I’m here?’
‘It says here that your doctor reported it to her. Are you a Red Cross worker, too?’
‘Yes, I worked in field hospitals from 1914.’
‘Oh, I beg your pardon, Nurse Wronski. I – I shouldn’t have—’
‘It – it doesn’t matter.’
‘It is that it does . . . matter, Ella. I was overhearing the tone in your voice, Nurse Flemming. You are not for knowing a patient’s circumstances, so you should not be standing . . . in judgement.’
Ella’s concern for Paddy increased. She looked over at her. Paddy was gasping for breath.
‘You’re right, of course.’ The nurse leaned heavily on the bedstead. ‘I’m just tired and not thinking straight. I’m . . . It’s no excuse, but we are so stretched. I’ve been on duty for fourteen hours already, with not a minute to sit down or have a cup of tea.’
‘I know how that feels. Please don’t worry.’
‘Thank you. Anyway, your note:
‘Dear Nurse Wronski,
‘We are very sad to hear of your own and Nurse Riley’s plight, and wish you both a speedy and excellent recovery.
‘I have decided to get this message to you in the hope that the news I have for you will spur you on to fight through the effects of the virus. It can be done. And if you do so, then I know you will help Nurse Riley, too.
‘Well, to my news. I have located Officer Rennaise. Permission has been sought from him to allow us to give you some information, and he readily agreed. Though I am sorry to say that all my news is not good. However, weighing everything up, I still think you will want to know.
‘Officer Rennaise was in a hostel run by the Salvation Army for displaced soldiers. How he came to be there and not in hospital, I do not know, but our resources are all stretched to the limit. Not that I see that as an excuse. It is inexcusable that such a sick man was not sent immediately to hospital, or at the very least to a convalescent home for officers. I can only say that everything was chaotic when the fire occurred in Hospital 36.
‘Please rest assured, Ella, that a place is being sought for Officer Rennaise as soon as possible.
‘My report says that he was in poor health, but that attempts to get him into hospital had failed due to him not having the financial means to support his stay, and to delays in getting assurances from the French authorities that they would foot the bill. A sorry state of affairs. I am doing all I can to rectify the situation and will keep you informed. I urge you to get well soon, so that you can be reunited with Officer Rennaise.
‘I also want to make sure that you see the positives in what I have told you. You now know where Officer Rennaise is. You know that he wants to be in contact with you. You know that everything that can be done for him is being done. I have already arranged for him to see a doctor and, although in poor health, he is being cared for very well at the hostel.
‘I look forward to hearing a much better report on your progress, and to you returning to full health very quickly.
‘Yours sincerely . . .’
‘Now, isn’t that for being good news?’ Paddy going into a spasm of coughing prevented Ella from answering. Her concern for Paddy overrode any other feeling, as she caught sight of the muck that Paddy spat into a bowl.
‘Nurse, she . . . she should be on oxygen.’
‘I know, but we haven’t any.’
‘Then a steam tent. Do something!’
The nurse scurried away.
‘Paddy, lie back. Please don’t talk. Don’t exert yourself. Please.’
As Paddy closed her eyes, the sound of her breathing – though still rasping – slowed. Ella willed the nurse to hurry. Surely they had something that would help Paddy. Even a bowl of steaming water would give her a little relief.
As she rested back herself, Ella’s mind wandered to the contents of the letter. As Miss Embury said, there were a lot of positives, but oh, her heart ached for Paulo. What discomfort he must be in. Dear God, I must get better – I must! Paddy needs me, and so does Nanny. And my Paulo. Her lost child came to her mind and increased the soreness of her heart. I never knew you, little one, but I will always think of you. It wasn’t your fault that you were conceived as you were. I know I would have loved you, despite that.
Although she fought against it, wanting to keep her eye on Paddy, sleep took Ella into its depths. Her mind became a swirl of dreams. From time to time the sound of Paddy coughing drifted into those dreams, but she couldn’t untangle the web of slumber to offer any comfort.
When finally she opened her eyes, Ella noticed the silence. Feeling stronger, she lifted her head. Paddy’s bed was empty! Her cry came out as a moan. ‘Nurse . . .’
‘Now, now, what are you doing? Rest back, Miss Wronski.’
‘W – where’s Paddy?’
‘Do you mean Miss Riley?’
‘Yes.’
‘She was rushed to primary care, as her breathing got worse. I’m sorry, but she is very poorly.’
‘Oh no!’
‘Now, you be careful – getting in despair invites unwelcome infections. Miss Riley is being taken care of, so you just rest and stop worrying.’
Rest? How can I rest? My baby is gone. Paulo and Paddy are very ill. Nanny is back in the nursing home. And I feel so lifeless and full of pain that I can’t do anything to help them.