I felt better after a night’s sleep. Desperately worried about Nelly, of course, but more able to deal with it all. Mr Gold had sent a telegram to her mother in Ireland and he’d told me he had the car from work for as long as he needed it so he would drive me wherever I needed to go. He was being so kind, just like Mrs Gold was. But when I said as much to Mrs Gold, as I got ready for work the next morning, she pooh-poohed my sentimentality.
‘Where I come from, people help each other out,’ she said. ‘It’s just what we do. I think Londoners are no different. You helped me, now I help you.’
‘Where are you from?’ I asked curiously, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she put her hands on my shoulders and looked at me.
‘Are you sure you’re up to going to work?’
I honestly wasn’t sure. I’d been a nervous wreck when the bombs had started falling, but Mrs Gold had tucked me into my bunk tightly, like I was a little girl, and she and Mr Gold had stayed awake in the shelter, playing cards and talking quietly between themselves, until I fell asleep. I’d been so tired that I hadn’t even woken with the thuds and wails of the raid, except once, when I turned over on the hard bunk and half-woke. But even then I must have still been dozing, because though I could hear the Golds chatting in low voices, I couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Now though, I felt a bit stronger. I was glad I was on daytime shifts for now so I didn’t have to cope with a raid and patients, and I was keen to see Nelly. So even though I was nervous about going back to the wards, I nodded.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Good girl,’ said Mrs Gold, like my mother always used to. It made me laugh because I was not a girl, and she was really only a few years older than I was.
‘Are you going to work?’ I asked. ‘Will you be all right, with your head?’ She was dressed for the office in a neat suit and shoes that I wouldn’t be able to walk in. She even had stockings on – sheer shiny nylons that were very different from the thick woolly monstrosities I wore under my uniform.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, touching her hand to the plaster on her forehead. ‘This is nothing, really and Albert has the car, so he can drive us.’
‘Be careful,’ I warned.
She nodded. ‘You too.’
I was worried Jackson might appear somewhere on my journey to the hospital but thankfully, he wasn’t there. Though the streets were busy with emergency workers and families who’d been bombed out, and the WVS volunteers dashing about with mugs of tea and blankets, so perhaps I just hadn’t seen him.
In any case, my mind was on Nelly.
My train was delayed because there was debris from the raid on the line, so I ended up getting a bus to the hospital, which took ages, and I had to rush to my ward, worried I was going to be late to start my shift.
As I hurried along the corridor, Matron appeared. ‘Nurse Elsie Watson,’ she bellowed down the hall at me.
‘I’m here,’ I called, trying to walk even faster, because running was strictly forbidden. ‘I’m coming.’
But Matron came towards me, and held her hand out to stop me and for an awful, heart-wrenching moment I knew absolutely what she was going to say. Nelly was dead. I was sure of it. Because Matron had never sought me out in the corridor before and I couldn’t ever imagine it happening again.
My legs buckled beneath me and I reached out to steady myself on the cool, distempered wall.
‘Is it Nelly?’ I asked, my voice quiet and small in the busy corridor.
Matron had arrived at my side and now she took my arm and I leaned on her, grateful for the support.
‘She’s awake,’ she said.
My vision blurred and I thought I might faint for a second. Then it cleared and I looked at Matron, whose own eyes were filled with tears. ‘She’s awake,’ she said again.
‘Is she going to be all right?’
‘It’s still too early,’ Matron said. She was a large woman with a big bosom and a heavy tread. She rarely smiled or laughed, was sharp-tongued when she had to be, and she was very good at her job. I respected her but I could never have said that I liked her. Now, though, she seemed more human. ‘Too early to be sure,’ she added. ‘You should go and see her.’
‘Now?’ I was surprised. ‘But my shift is about to start.’
‘Nurse Bateman will cover until you’re back,’ she said. The tiniest of smiles crept across her lips. ‘She wasn’t busy last night so she’s fine to stay.’
Nurse Bateman – Petra – was sweet, but she was a devil for taking ages to move patients or fetch files from the records office. If there was an opportunity for her to skive off work for five minutes, she took it. I was amused to know that Matron had spotted her habits, too. ‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘Half an hour,’ Matron said. ‘I need you back on the ward by half past eight. Don’t make me send Nurse Bateman to fetch you.’
‘I won’t,’ I said, half over my shoulder because I was already turning to go. ‘Thank you.’
Not caring about any rules about not running, I pounded along the corridor to Nelly’s ward, and burst through the door. It was a different matron in charge today, but she obviously knew I was coming because she looked up at me and smiled.
‘Here to see Nelly Malone?’
‘Is she awake?’ I gasped. ‘Is she talking? Will she be all right?’
She got up from behind her desk and came round to where I stood. ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself,’ she warned. ‘Nelly is very poorly. She’s off the sedation but she is still on a lot of pain medication. She’s drifting in and out of consciousness, but I think she’ll know you’re there and be glad of it.’
‘That’s what I think,’ I said. ‘I always think that.’
She nodded. ‘She can’t speak.’
‘Because of the oxygen?’
‘We think her airway was scorched by the flames. She’s responding to our words but can’t make a sound herself.’
I put my hand to my mouth. ‘That could heal though? With time?’
‘She’s very badly hurt,’ the matron said softly. ‘Her burns are extensive and there is a high risk of infection.’
‘Can I see her now?’
‘Five minutes, no more.’
Nervous about what I would find, I walked into the side room where Nelly lay. She looked just the same as she had the night before. But as I neared her bed, her eye – the one I could see that wasn’t covered in that awful expressionless mask – flickered open.
‘Hello,’ I said.
She looked at me and her breathing changed, just a little, as if she were trying to speak.
‘Don’t try to talk.’ It sounded so painful, I didn’t want her to hurt herself. I took her fingers in mine, averting my eyes from her bandages and her terrible shaved head. Weakly, almost imperceptibly, I felt her hand squeeze mine.
‘Oh Nelly,’ I said, almost dizzy with relief. ‘You’ve given me the most awful scare, you sod.’
Her fingers moved again and her eye met mine.
‘We’ve got to get you better, love. And get you home. Because you know how untidy I am. There are already dirty plates in the sink. Piled high they are.’
I laughed, but it sounded forced and fake. Nelly’s eye closed and her fingers went limp in mine. Without thinking, I shifted my hold so I could feel her pulse. There it was, beating nicely. A little fast, perhaps, but there all the same. She was asleep. I felt light-headed with relief.
‘I have to go or Matron will be furious,’ I said. Nelly stayed still. ‘I’ll come back later. I’ll try to find the book, shall I? We can have a look at what people have been writing.’
Wiping a tear from my eye, I kissed Nelly’s hand and then headed off to my own ward to start my shift.
*
Much later, after hours on my feet and after spending half the day rearranging the ward to squeeze in another two beds, much to all of our disbelief and concern, I handed over to the night staff.
‘I owe you for this morning,’ I told Petra. She looked at me impassively through her dark, sleepy eyes and then grinned.
‘Nah,’ she said. ‘Nelly’s one of us, isn’t she? How’s she doing?’
‘On the mend,’ I told her confidently, half-hoping that if I said the words, they’d be true.
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘And thank you for passing the book on. Do you know where it’s got to?’
‘Last I heard it was going down to theatre.’
*
I found the book in the holding ward next to the operating theatre in the basement. It was strange down there, dim and gloomy in the corridors and ward, and then brightly lit in the theatre itself. I wasn’t sure how Nelly coped being down there all the time. I was glad I didn’t work in that bit of the hospital. Apart from anything else, the part of nursing I liked the best was talking to my patients and getting to know them. I wasn’t cut out to be a theatre nurse. Unlike Nelly who loved the precision that was involved.
With a shudder, I went along the gloomy hallway following the daubs of white paint that had been splattered on the walls to lead the way. It was odd down here. There were a few cupboards that were used for storage and a slightly larger room that had the emergency generator in it. I knew it had been used a few times when the power had gone out during raids. And next to that was the boiler room, which was the warmest place in the hospital. When I’d been a student nurse, we’d had the most awful cold snap with deep snow and freezing temperatures. I remembered there had been ice up the inside of all the windows at home and in the hospital and we would be shivering constantly on the wards. We nurses used to dash down to the boiler room in our breaks to thaw out our frozen fingers and sometimes we even sneaked off for a snooze down there if we’d been tired after a hectic shift. I gave a little snort of laughter. I’d had no idea back then what a hectic shift was really like.
Walking past the boiler room, I went into the holding ward. There weren’t many patients in there, but one – a man in his fifties with a bushy moustache – was sitting up in bed scribbling furiously in the book. His skin had a greyish tinge and he kept stopping to breathe in sharply. He was obviously in pain. I exchanged an alarmed glance with the nurse hovering by his bedside and she rolled her eyes. ‘Mr Hobbs here has appendicitis,’ she said pointedly. ‘And they’re ready to take him into theatre, but he’s got something to write first.’
I made a face. ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘That’s my doing. It’s my book.’
‘Oh well done.’ She beamed at me. ‘It’s such a good idea. Make sure you look after it, won’t you?’
‘I will.’
Mr Hobbs finished his writing with a flourish and snapped the book shut. ‘There,’ he said, leaning back against his pillow in exhaustion. ‘Message for the wife, just in case, you know?’
‘I know,’ the nurse said fondly. ‘Having your appendix out is a routine op, though. I’m sure your wife won’t be reading that note.’ She patted his arm in reassurance and took the book from him. ‘I’ll get a porter to take you through to theatre.’
‘I’ll find Frank for you, if you like,’ I said, taking the book as she held it out to me. ‘I’m heading up to the wards now.’
‘No, not Frank, the new chap. He’s around somewhere – I just saw him.’
‘If I see someone, I’ll send them down. Good luck, Mr Hobbs.’
He nodded to me and with the book under my arm, I hurried off again, totally forgetting to look for a porter in my eagerness to get to Nelly.
*
She was awake when I got to her room. Another nurse was there, adjusting her sheets, and I greeted her.
‘Nelly’s awake, aren’t you, love?’ she said. I didn’t recognise her and I didn’t like how she raised her voice a bit and spoke as though Nelly was simple.
She turned to me. ‘She can’t talk but she’s responsive.’
‘It wasn’t her brain that was burned,’ I said sharply and the nurse narrowed her eyes at me like an irritated cat. ‘Sorry. It’s been a long day.’
The nurse nodded in understanding though she still looked a bit annoyed.
‘Brought the book, Nell,’ I said. ‘Thought we could look at it together.’
‘Don’t tire her out,’ the nurse warned.
‘I won’t.’
I waited until she was outside the room and then I sat down next to Nelly’s less injured side, smoothing the book’s cover with my fingertips. I opened it on a random page. ‘Let’s have a look, shall we? It’s been all over the hospital.’
Next to me, Nelly’s eye widened slightly. ‘Want me to read some of the notes?’ I asked. Her fingers twitched.
‘Your wish is my command.’
I read a few of the cheerier messages. The ones that were memories or funny anecdotes. I didn’t want any of the gloomy last words for loved ones. Not today. When I came across the note Mr Hobbs had left, I scanned it, wondering what had been so important but feeling a bit like I was invading his privacy as I did. The note made me chuckle.
‘Listen to this, Nell,’ I said. ‘This chap was writing before he had his appendix out earlier on. I thought it was a loving message to his wife, but it’s instructions about how to feed his chickens.’
I laughed but Nelly looked as though she was drifting off to sleep, so I thought I should leave her be.
‘I’ll get off,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow.’
She opened her eye fully and tapped her fingers on the bedclothes to show she was pleased.
‘We need to work out a code, like two taps for no and one for yes,’ I said. ‘Just until you can talk again.’
Nelly tapped once and I grinned. ‘You’ve got it already.’
I went to shut the book but as I did, I noticed some of the pages were stuck together. Poking out of the top of the pages was a scrap of paper, like a bookmark. ‘Oh, look at that,’ I grumbled. ‘Not everyone is as careful as I am.’
Using my hand like a letter opener I ran it between the pages and peeled them apart. They separated easily. I rubbed my finger and thumb together. It felt slightly gritty, like … I sniffed my finger … and it smelled like tea. Was it a drink that had sealed the pages together? Perhaps one of the patients had spilled something. But it was only on the edges of the paper and it felt more deliberate than accidental.
‘This is odd,’ I said aloud to Nelly, whose eye was still open. ‘Look, someone’s stuck the pages together. Do you think they wanted their message to be private?’
She tapped her finger lightly on her sheet and I nodded. ‘I think you’re right. I feel a bit bad now, that I’ve found it. But … oh. Oh goodness.’
I felt my cheeks burn as I looked at the scrap of paper that had been marking the page. It said “To my favourite nurse” in tiny writing. ‘I think this might be a message to me, Nelly.’ Was it? Or was I being presumptuous? And who had written it?
Nell tapped her hand on to the bed impatiently, but I ignored her, lost in my own thoughts. With a lurch of discomfort I wondered if somehow Jackson had found the book and written me a note. But I scanned it, and realised with a great deal of relief, that wasn’t the case.
‘It’s not from Jackson, I’m sure. But it isn’t signed,’ I said to Nelly. She drummed her fingers again. I shook my head.
‘I’m not even convinced it’s for me.’
Nelly thumped her hand on the bedclothes and I grinned. ‘Shall I read it aloud?’
‘If we were in normal times, I would ask you to a dance or to the pictures,’ I read. ‘But times are not normal and I worry that they will never be normal again.’
I paused and glanced at Nelly to make sure she was all right. She was still, but her eye was open. She was listening. I carried on. ‘I think you’re lovely, and I’d like to get to know you. Your idea to pass this book around the wards was so clever and thoughtful – I want to know more about you.’
I paused, pleased to have confirmation that the note was definitely meant for me. ‘But I know it’s awkward with you being a nurse and me a patient so I thought we could use this book to share our thoughts. What do you reckon?’
I felt hot again on my cheeks. Could it be from Harry? Or was I being ridiculous? ‘It’s sweet, I think,’ I said to Nelly. She tapped her finger once. ‘But I don’t know who it is. It could be anyone. It could be one of the old men from upstairs, or a youngster playing a prank. Should I write back?’
Nelly tapped her finger with a surprising amount of vigour. ‘That’s a yes then?’ I said with a chuckle.
She tapped again. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll write back and stick the pages together again.’ I thought for a moment. ‘But with no idea who’s written this note, I’ve got no way of knowing when it would find its way to him. I’ll just have to send it off round the wards again and see what happens.’
Nelly breathed in deeply and I looked at her. ‘Are you loving this?’ I said to her. ‘It’s right up your street, isn’t it?’
She tapped her finger and I grinned. ‘Has Percy been in to see you?’
There was a pause and then she tapped again, twice this time. I kicked myself for asking. ‘He’ll come,’ I assured her. ‘He’s a good bloke.’
Nelly made a noise, deep in her throat. A sort of moan.
‘You don’t want him here?’ I said.
She tapped her finger twice again.
‘All right,’ I said. I understood that she didn’t want Percy to see her looking so badly hurt. ‘You tell me when you’re ready to see him and I’ll let him know.’
She walked her fingers along the sheet and clasped my hand in hers.
‘And I’ll reply to the message,’ I said, wanting to distract her. ‘I promise.’
Nelly squeezed my fingers and then let go.
‘We need to take Nelly for a bath now.’ One of the nurses stood in the doorway.
Nelly moaned again.
‘Now?’ I said. ‘Really?’
‘I’m afraid so. We’ll give you some painkillers, Nelly. I know it’s not nice, but it’s important to keep your burns clean.’
A tear trickled out from Nelly’s eye. ‘Be brave,’ I said to her. ‘Do you want me to stay?’
She took my hand again but the nurse shook her head. ‘We can’t have too many people in the room. The risk of infection is too high.’
‘Sorry, Nell,’ I said.
She made the horrible moaning sound again and I wanted to cry for her.
‘The porter’s on his way,’ the nurse said. ‘Let’s get you ready, shall we?’
I kissed her hand and said goodbye, hearing her moans follow me all the way along the corridor.