Nelly was decorating our flat for Christmas, even though it was still three weeks away. She was singing “Deck the Halls” at the top of her voice as she tried to pin holly along the mantelpiece without pricking her fingers.
‘Fa la la, ouch,’ she warbled. I couldn’t help laughing.
‘That’s God’s way of telling you you’re too early,’ I said.
‘Tsk, don’t we deserve a bit of Christmas cheer? Ow.’
‘Here, let me help you,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should put gloves on, to stop the prickles hurting so much.’
‘Good plan.’ Nelly went to find our gloves and, giggling, we put them on and finished arranging the holly.
‘Where did you get this?’ I asked. ‘There’s none in our garden.’
‘Park,’ said Nelly. ‘Percy and I went on a twilight raid.’
‘Nelly Malone, you awful thief.’
‘It was such a hoot,’ she said. ‘We had to climb over the fence and Percy got stuck. Honestly, I thought I was going to fall over I was laughing that much.’
‘You really like him, don’t you?’
‘I really do.’
I gave her a hug. ‘I’m so glad.’
She hugged me back. ‘There’s lots of mistletoe in the park too,’ she said with a cheeky glance in my direction. ‘Perhaps we should take some to work.’
‘I’m not sure there’s much call for mistletoe on my ward,’ I said, pretending to misunderstand.
‘There might be in the huts.’
My cheeks flushed. ‘Stop it,’ I said. ‘Matron would be furious if she thought I was parading round the wards trying to kiss patients.’
‘Not patients,’ said Nelly, emphasising the S. ‘Just one patient.’
‘I’m not sure that would aid his recovery.’
‘Bet it would.’
We both laughed again as Nelly looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Ah, I need to go. I’m meeting Percy before work.’ She kissed me on the cheek. ‘See you at the hospital later?’
‘I’ll be there,’ I said.
She rushed around, doing her hair and putting on some rouge, and then I heard her shout goodbye as the front door banged shut. I watched from the window as she went along the path and out on to the street, where Jackson was walking along very slowly. He stopped Nelly as she went and I saw them exchange a few words. Nelly had been practically dancing along but as soon as she stopped to talk to Jackson, she folded her arms and her shoulders hunched. I couldn’t blame her. He had the same effect on me. They both looked up at the window where I stood and I leaned back a bit, even though I knew they wouldn’t be able to see me watching. Nelly was shaking her head and shrugging. I got the impression she was telling Jackson she didn’t know where I was and I found I was grateful for her lie.
Nelly looked at her watch and rushed off. Jackson, though, stayed where he was and then, as Nelly went round the corner, he walked up our path and rang the doorbell. It was loud in the quiet flat and made me jump. I stayed very still, hoping he’d go away. The bell rang again and I waited and waited until eventually I saw him walk down the path with a backwards glance up at the window where I stood, hidden behind the curtain.
‘Honestly, Elsie,’ I chided myself aloud. ‘He’s just a man.’ But even though I knew Jackson was just looking out for me, maybe even doing as Billy had asked him to – though I still doubted that – I still didn’t want to spend any time with him.
A knock on the door to the flat made me jump again. But when I’d gathered myself, I realised it had to be Mrs Gold because I’d seen Jackson walk away and it was the inside door, not the main front door. Even so, I felt nervous. It wasn’t like me to be so jumpy.
Carefully I put the chain on the door and opened it a fraction. Just as I’d thought, it was Mrs Gold. Sighing with relief, I opened the door properly and she came in, carrying a large paper bag.
‘That chap was outside again,’ she said. ‘The odd one.’
‘Jackson. I saw him.’ I gave her a little worried smile.
‘He’s gone.’ Mrs Gold gave me a reassuring pat on the arm.
I sat down on the sofa with a sigh. ‘He just makes me feel uneasy, but I don’t want to be rude to him. Billy always said he wasn’t a bad chap.’
‘Hmm.’ Mrs Gold looked unconvinced. ‘Sometimes men don’t see other men in the same way we do.’
A movement outside the window caught my eye and I looked round sharply, but it was just a pigeon swooping past. Goodness, I really was jumpy.
‘You’re worried about him, aren’t you?’ Mrs Gold said.
‘I just know he’ll come back.’
‘Want me to get Albert to warn him off?’
I thought of quiet Mr Gold with his tweed jackets and dark-rimmed spectacles and shook my head. ‘Jackson means no harm,’ I said though whether I was trying to convince Mrs Gold or myself, I didn’t know.
Mrs Gold looked like she was going to say something else but she didn’t. She looked round at the holly on the mantelpiece. ‘It’s looking delightfully Christmassy in here.’
‘Nelly loves Christmas,’ I said. ‘She’s getting ready even though it’ll be different this year, and we’re both working on Christmas Day anyway.’
‘Do you remember last year, how people kept saying the war would be over by Christmas?’ Mrs Gold said, rolling her eyes. ‘And here’s another year come and gone and things are worse than ever.’
‘I think that’s why Nelly’s so determined to make the most of celebrating,’ I said.
‘She’s got the right idea,’ Mrs Gold said, digging into the paper bag she held on her lap. ‘Ta-da.’
She pulled out a large box tied with a ribbon. It was very pretty, like a present in a shop window.
‘This is for you.’
I was so pleased that for a moment I couldn’t speak. ‘For me?’ I said eventually. ‘Really?’
‘An early Christmas gift.’
She handed me the box and I gazed at it in wonder. ‘It’s too pretty to open.’
‘No it isn’t. Untie the ribbon.’
I pulled the ends of the knot and it came undone. Then I eased off the lid and looked inside. It was a big scrapbook and some pencils.
‘I thought you could use it for your patients,’ Mrs Gold said.
‘This is wonderful,’ I breathed. ‘You’re so kind.’
She waved her hand as if it was nothing. ‘I think it’s a good idea and I wanted you to be able to get on and do it.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I think it’s a good idea too. I think if the patients write about what happened to them it might help them recover better. Because sometimes writing things down helps make sense of it in your head. Like writing a diary.’
‘And it’s history isn’t it? It’s very important to record everything.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Though at work we spend a lot of time destroying papers.’ She turned her attention back to the book. ‘The pages are blank because I thought some of them might prefer to draw than write.’
‘Yes, that’s perfect. I can just give the book to the patients and let them do what they want.’ I studied the book on my lap. It was large with sturdy covers, and the pages were thick. It would withstand a lot of being passed around. Mrs Gold was very thoughtful.
‘And if they want to write a message to someone to read if the worst happens, to a loved one perhaps …’
‘Or a sworn enemy,’ I said, and Mrs Gold laughed.
‘Yes, either or. If they write a message, you could deliver it. If you have to.’
‘This isn’t just a Christmas present for me,’ I said. ‘It’s a present for every patient in the hospital.’
Mrs Gold’s cheeks went a bit red and she gave me her most dazzling smile.
*
Later, when I was leaving to go to the hospital, Mr Gold pulled up outside in a motor car. I’d never seen him driving before – he and Mrs Gold always took the train to work – and now petrol was rationed lots of people had stopped driving. He got out of the car, looking rather pleased with himself, and gave me a cheery wave.
I waved back. I’d not spent as much time with Mr Gold as I had with his wife but he seemed nice enough.
‘Are you off to work?’ he called, patting the roof of the car. ‘Would you like a lift?’
‘Really?’
‘Of course. I borrowed this from work. They said I could use it for as long as I needed.’
‘That’s kind of them. They must think a lot of you.’
‘Oh I’m just a small cog in a large wheel,’ he said. He opened the passenger door. ‘I’ll take you to the hospital.’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘Clara would be furious with me if she knew I’d seen you and not offered.’ He gave me a little smile and tipped his head towards the window. ‘She’s probably watching us now.’
‘That’s very nice of you,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’
I got in while Mr Gold held my bag – which was extra heavy because it was full of the new notebook and the pencils Mrs Gold had given me – and I arranged my coat so it didn’t get stuck in the door, and then he handed the bag back for me to hold it on my lap.
He got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. ‘I wanted to say thank you for keeping Clara company when I have to work,’ he said, pulling away from the kerb slightly jerkily. ‘She doesn’t like being in the shelter on her own.’
‘Nor do I,’ I said. ‘We help each other.’
‘Well it means a lot to me,’ he said. ‘To both of us.’
‘Likewise.’
He nodded. ‘What do you think of the old girl?’
‘What do I think of Mrs Gold?’ I asked in alarm and he laughed heartily.
‘No, what do you think of the car.’
‘Gosh, thank goodness.’ I laughed too. ‘It’s very nice,’ I lied because one car was very much like another in my mind.
‘I can’t believe you thought I called my wife “the old girl”,’ said Mr Gold, still chuckling.
I smiled at him, though his eyes were fixed on the road as we turned the corner. Still smiling, I looked out of my window and there, standing at the end of the road, was Jackson. He was watching the car as we passed, and his face was twisted in fury. I felt a sudden lurch of fear. Was it me he was angry with? Had he seen me get into the car with Mr Gold? Was that what had made him look so full of rage?
I watched him grow smaller in the car’s wing mirror as Mr Gold drove away from home. I wished that Jackson was really that small and I could squash him with a rolled-up newspaper like a fly.
‘All right?’ Mr Gold said. ‘You looked worried there for a second.’
I forced a smile on to my face. ‘Just thinking about work,’ I lied.
‘Must be hard in the hospital. Busy.’
‘Busier than I could ever have imagined. I can’t believe how many extra beds they’ve squeezed in.’
‘And extra staff to help?’
‘Not enough,’ I said. ‘We always need more nurses, and porters, and cleaners. It’s tough.’
Mr Gold nodded as he slowed down at a junction. ‘These are strange times indeed,’ he said. ‘Strange times.’