CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Portpatrick

Mags, Ella, Betsy and Rosie

Mags held Betsy to her. That her lovely friend should be suffering as she was cut at Mags’s heart. There were no words.

She and Ella had travelled to Portpatrick by car. Their driver was unloading their cases, and Ella stood where she’d alighted on the other side of the car.

Stroking Betsy’s hair, Mags noticed that it had lost its vibrant chestnut sheen and was peppered with grey strands. ‘I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to come to you sooner than this, my dear Betsy, but you have been in my thoughts.’

‘I knaw, lass. And I’ve looked forward every evening to your phone calls. They, and our Rosie, are what has kept me going.’

‘Well, I’m here now, Betsy, and if there is anything I can do, I will. This is my friend Ella.’

Betsy wiped her eyes on her apron and went towards Ella. ‘Eeh, lass, it’s good to meet you at last. I knaws all about you. You’re a heroine, just like my Mags. And I’m right sorry for what you’ve been through, lass. If I could get hold of that Hitler, I’d string him up by his . . . Aye, well, I won’t say it, as you’re a lady; and I wouldn’t in front of your little one, anyroad. But by, I wished it could happen.’

Mags noticed that Ella showed no surprise at the hug Betsy gave her and was glad to see her laugh out loud. Ella was getting used to the northern way of greeting. Mags smiled to herself as a memory came to her of the first time she’d met Ella all those years ago, on King’s Cross station as they had waited to be taken to Belgium in 1914. Three Voluntary Aid nurses – herself, Ella and Flors – young and excited, without any fear of what lay ahead of them, but sure they could conquer the world. She’d surprised them both by hugging them, when they had offered a formal handshake.

When Betsy turned her attention to Lonia and gestured to her to come and have a hug, Lonia went willingly into Betsy’s arms.

‘By, you’re a bonny lass. I’m pleased to meet you.’

‘My name’s Lonia, and I’m to call you “Aunty Betsy”. I like that name. Were you named after someone? I was named after my mama’s nanny. I never met her, but Mama says she was a lovely lady and I should be honoured to have her name.’

‘It’s a lovely name an’ all. I’m named after me ma. And she were a lovely lady an’ all. Weren’t she, Mags?’

‘She was. And is still missed. By the way, Ciss sends her love.’

Looking at Lonia, Betsy said, ‘That’s me sister, you knaw.’

‘I haven’t got a sister. I’ve got a brother. Well, he’s a half-brother as we have different papas. He’s called Paulo, but his papa died.’

‘Oh dear, what Mags hasn’t told you about me, Betsy, you’ll learn from Lonia.’

They all laughed at this, from Ella.

‘Well, come on in. I’ve got the pot on the go and I’ve baked some raspberry buns with home-made jam. Mind, it’s a bit runny without the proper amount of sugar, and it’s seeped into the cake mixture and made it pink an’ all, so they look unusual, but they taste nice.’

Mags walked through the gate. The early summer flowers were blooming, and the rose bushes by the front wall had many buds, as well as one or two flowers that had been teased open by the warmth of the sun. Turning as she reached the top of the slope that brought her to the house, she looked out over the beautiful view across the port and the calm sea. Even though she was blissfully happy with Jerome and loved him dearly, here she was reminded of her Montel, who always held a special place in her heart. Tomorrow she would visit his grave and chat with him, as she was used to doing every time she visited.

Not letting her mind go further into the past, Mags called out, ‘I’ll just let our driver in, so he can unload the car, and then I’ll be with you.’

‘Will he want a cuppa?’

Conscious that her driver would be embarrassed to drink tea in her company, she refused this offer from Betsy on his behalf. ‘No, he’ll go over to the inn you booked him into, and most likely enjoy a beer. He’s going back to Blackburn tomorrow.’

When they were seated with their steaming hot tea, and had sampled the buns, Betsy asked after Jerome and the girls.

‘You will see for yourself, in a week’s time. Jerome is coming to pick us up and is bringing the girls. They are staying for a couple of days.’

‘Eeh, that’s grand. Neither of you gets enough breaks – what with you and that mill, and Jerome and his vetting.’

Mags laughed at this. ‘Vetting? You make him sound like someone who ticks people off for approval.’

‘Ha, you knaws what I mean – doing all his vet work.’

‘I do, and it describes it very well. Anyway, as always, Jerome’s in the best of health. We are lucky as we don’t experience the shortages that many do.’

‘Oh, aye?’ Betsy gave a half-smile and winked. ‘Well, we do all right along them lines an’ all.’

Mags felt a pang of irritation at the insinuation that she was getting what she shouldn’t as she didn’t approve of trading on the black market, but realized Betsy meant that Angus did more than talk to the fishermen from Fleetwood.

‘No, I meant that, because of his work, there is often a gift of a couple of eggs or some other farm produce by way of payment.’

‘Well, we’ll leave it at that – we all have to take what we can get, no matter how we come to get it. Anyroad, as I said, it’s good to have you here. So, the girls will be free to come up with Jerome? By, it’ll be good to see them.’

Mags didn’t like Betsy suggesting that these gifts were no better than items obtained on the black market, but then had to admit that maybe they weren’t. Deciding it best to ignore it, she laughed as she told Betsy: ‘Yes, and they are looking forward to seeing you, too. Both are excited at the moment – Beth because she is looking forward to finishing her schooling, and Belinda because it is the school holidays. She always hates being away from home.’

‘I can understand that. Having you here brings me proper home to me, and I feel the sadness of not being where me heart is – back in me beloved Blackburn. Anyroad, as I can’t be there, I have to say as there’s no better alternative than here in Portpatrick, and I hope as you being here, Ella, will help you to recover.’

Mags’s annoyance had passed and she wanted to take Betsy in her arms and hold her again for the welcome she gave.

Ella further cemented this as she said, ‘Thank you, Betsy. I’m sure it will. I feel lifted already. I – I . . . well, I wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss. I . . . I don’t mean to dampen the atmosphere, but I feel so much for you. I feel akin to your girls, as I was out in the Somme and various war-torn places for the duration of the last war. They are heroines, Betsy, and when the time comes that you can think a little beyond your grief, you will feel so much pride in them.’

‘I knaw. Ta, lass. I try to see it that they were doing their duty, as I do me son, Billy, who’s a POW. But it’s hard. Your son, as Lonia told me of – Paulo? He’s doing his bit and all, isn’t he?’

‘He is. And my husband, Arnie. I can’t talk much about what they do, but they are in danger every day.’

‘It’s a rum do, the lot of it. There we were, all going on nicely putting the last war behind us and getting on our feet, and it all starts again. Have you heard owt about Sibbie and Marjella, Mags?’

‘No and, like you all, I feel no news is good news, so I try not to worry. Are Susan and Rosie in the shop?’

‘Aye. Rosie is worrying me. She’s still on compassionate leave, but I reckon as she’d be better occupied going back. She’s needed there, and it would do her good. Besides, she stops me doing owt, and I need to be busy.’

‘Grief affects us all in different ways, Betsy.’

‘I knaw, Mags.’

‘But, having said that, I agree with you. I’ll talk to her. She may take my advice.’

‘Ta, love. Me girls allus listened to you, they love you dearly.’ With this, Betsy coughed. It was meant to cover up a sob, but it did a poor job and tears plopped onto her cheeks.

Before anyone could do anything, Lonia got down from the chair she’d been sitting on at the table, drinking the juice Betsy had given her and listening to the women talking. She ran to Betsy. ‘Don’t be sad, Betsy. I know your Daisy and Florrie died, but they are in heaven. My puppy died. It was run over, and Mama said it is far happier than it was here, as it is in a beautiful place.’

Betsy smiled through her tears at Lonia. ‘Ta, lass, I knaw as that’s right, but I miss them.’

‘I miss my puppy.’

Lonia put her head on Betsy’s lap. Betsy stroked her hair.

‘And I miss my daddy and Paulo, and Marjella . . . and everyone, but although that hurts, it’s not the same hurt, as I know I’m going to see them again. I just have to be patient.’

‘Aw, lass. Me and you are in the same boat.’

‘What does that mean, Aunt Betsy?’

‘It means our troubles are the same, lass, as I have a son, Billy, who I miss, but I knaw I’m going to see him again. And when your Aunt Mags ain’t here, I miss her an’ all, but I’m going to see her again. When they go to heaven, well . . .’

‘We still might see them again. Mama says we have to hope, and keep remembering them. I’ll never forget Butty.’

‘Butty? That’s an unusual name.’

Lonia laughed. ‘It was meant to be Bunty, but I couldn’t say that then, as I was only little.’

Mags had tears in her eyes, listening to them. This child of Ella’s was like a grown-up in a small body. But then Lonia had spent her life around grown-ups and had learned how to please them. She was adorable and caring, just like Ella. She and Betsy seemed to have become friends in a special way, and that pleased Mags. She could see it gave comfort to Betsy, too.

They walked to the shop as soon as Betsy had cleared the pots and Mags and Ella had freshened up. The sun was high in the sky on this lovely May afternoon, though the breeze coming off the sea still had a chill to it.

Mags had donned her flared-bottom trousers and they were flapping around her legs. Her Fair Isle jumper had been knitted by the local women and she loved it. It had been the buying of one of these jumpers, when she’d first come to Portpatrick, that had led her to employ the women to knit items for the shop, which she and Betsy had originally started along with dear Montel. ‘I’m excited to see your new lines, Betsy. Ella’s in the market for a Fair Isle jumper like mine. She’s had to borrow warm clothing from me and it’s far too big for her.’

‘I love them. I saw in a magazine that all the film stars are wearing them. There was a picture of Rita Hayworth in one, and she looked gorgeous, as you do, Mags.’

Betsy chimed in, ‘I’m too busty for them, but they are popular. The fishermen love them.’ They laughed at this and Betsy reddened. ‘Eeh, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s your minds.’ This made them giggle even more.

Lonia made things worse. ‘The fishermen like your busty? What’s a busty?’

Mags thought she would burst and had to bend over double to stop her stomach hurting. Lonia skipped ahead. You never knew, with that one, if she was being cheeky or not, as she had a talent for making fun.

As they turned onto the road that ran along the sea wall, Ella gasped. ‘Oh, it is so beautiful!’

Mags beamed. She loved it when others praised her beloved Portpatrick. It was a timeless place, with nothing changing, year in, year out. Just the folk that peopled it, as they gave way to another generation.

Ella loved the shop, and especially the intricately designed Fair Isle jumper she bought. And she took to Susan and Rosie immediately, chatting away with them both.

‘So, you’re a nurse, Rosie. We’ll have a lot in common.’

‘Aye, but you nursed in the thick of things. I haven’t, and it makes me feel a bit of a fraud.’

‘No, don’t feel like that. If all nurses went abroad, who would look after the people here, and who would nurse the returning wounded? Your job is of great value. Look, I wanted to talk to you. Are you able to go for a walk with me?’

‘Aye, I don’t see why not. Ma, me and Ella are going for a walk – we want to talk nursing and it’ll bore you all.’

Betsy smiled over at Ella. A smile that said she was grateful to her.

Outside, Rosie took a defensive stance. ‘I hope this isn’t set up by me ma. She’s allus on at me to get back to work.’

‘No. I promise you. It’s prompted by something in me, and I wanted to ask you a few questions. You see, I feel that I will go mad if I don’t do something. There is so much tugging at me. I wanted to ask you if you thought there was room in today’s world for someone who has masses of experience in nursing wounded and working as a theatre nurse, but no formal qualifications, and very little in the way of hospital-ward work?’

‘You! Eeh, Ella, are you sure? We all knaws what you’ve been through. Are you ready to face what we have to face on a day-to-day basis? It brings the horror of war home to you.’

‘I know it does. And yes, I’ve always found solace and lessened my problems by helping others.’

‘Eeh, I never looked at it like that. I just loved nursing, but aye, it does help you put things into perspective.’

‘It does, and in that I do agree that you would be better off back in the ward. Having said that, it is something I truly believe, and not something I was set up to say. Your mother has voiced her worries over you, but I don’t think she’d ever ask a virtual stranger to talk about that with you. Ha, I should watch out for your Aunt Mags, though – she might broach it.’

They giggled. ‘I have to watch out for them two all the time. They hatch many a plot to get me and me sis— Oh, I . . .’ Rosie drew in a massive breath.

‘It’s all right, Rosie. That shows they are still with you. Talking about them in everyday conversation will help you. I know how hard it is for you.’

Rosie swallowed. ‘It is. Oh, Ella. Me ma says she wants me to go to work, but I don’t knaw if she really does. How will she cope?’

‘I would say a lot better than you think, as she’ll know that at least one of her girls is all right.’

‘You’re making me see everything differently, Ella. I feel you understand.’

‘How about you ask to be transferred back to a hospital nearer here? You could come home when you want to, then.’

‘I’ve thought about that, as there’s another reason I don’t want to go back to Herne Bay.’

‘Oh, do you want to talk about it?’

‘I – I, yes, I do. But you will think less of me.’

‘Why should I? No matter what it is, I will understand. There’s not a situation you could tell me about that would shock me, but it may help you to get it off your chest.’

Rosie was quiet for a moment, then blurted out, ‘I fell in love with a German. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help meself. It just happened. But . . . he died.’

Ella reached out for Rosie, who came gladly into her arms.

‘Naw one knaws. Not up here, they don’t – well, except for me Ma.’

‘Does that mean you’re ashamed, Rosie?’

‘Naw, I’m not ashamed. Albie were a lovely man; he didn’t want to fight a war, but had no choice.’

‘Then keep his memory inside you. Only share it if you think you will have understanding, as you don’t want to be in the position of having to defend yourself. I understand, and I know the pain of losing the man you love. We can’t choose who they are, or where they are from, or anything about them. Yes, we have preferences, but that’s all they are. The reality hits you like a ton of bricks. Albie sounds like a nice person. He must have been, for you to love him.’

Rosie wept for a little while, then lifted her head. ‘Ta, Ella, I feel better about it now. I’ll do as you say, and I’ll ask for that transfer.’ She wiped her eyes and blew her nose loudly. ‘You knaw, I have some advice for you an’ all. Why not volunteer? I mean, if you don’t need the money. There’s a lot of volunteers in the hospital. They don’t do much medical stuff, but they make the patients more comfortable, making beds, doing bedpans, serving meals – that sort of thing.’

‘Yes, I like that idea. Thank you. Rosie. And you know what? I love it up here. I might just volunteer in the hospital that you land up in. I think it would be good for Lonia up here, too.’

‘That’d be grand, Ella. I reckon as me and you could become real friends.’ With this, Rosie hugged Ella, and Ella knew she could love this young woman like a younger sister, in the way that she’d been denied loving her own sister for so long. At this thought she drew in her breath.

‘Are you all right, Ella? I ain’t upset you, have I?’

‘I – I have something I haven’t been able to talk about, Rosie. And, like you, I believe everyone will think less of me if they know. You see, I – I was interrogated.’ Never thinking she would tell anyone this in a million years, Ella related how she’d betrayed her own family. ‘But they were going to hurt Lonia and . . . and they told me my sister had perished. Oh, I – I—’

‘Eeh, Ella lass, don’t.’ Rosie held her. ‘Sit down, lass.’

They sat on the grass. Rosie holding Ella and rocking her in her arms helped.

‘I don’t see that as a betrayal, Ella, and I knaw as no one else will. If it was just yourself that you were sacrificing, then that’s your choice; but you had no choice – you couldn’t sacrifice your child, and no one would expect you to. Talk to Aunt Mags, she’ll understand. And I’m sorry about your sister; there’s nowt more painful than losing your sister.’

They sat in silence then, holding each other and gazing out to sea. Two women joined in their grief, and by kindred natures, and each knew they had found a friend for life. For Ella, being with Rosie had released so much pain. She’d set out to help this young woman and, in doing so, had found help for herself.