Harry had gone. He’d gone back to Biggin Hill and though it was just a few miles down the road, he may as well have been in France or in Russia or on the moon. He’d been gone for seventeen days and each one seemed longer than the one before. I’d written to him, and he’d replied, but while our letters had seemed thrilling at first, before we’d spent proper time together, now they seemed a poor substitute for being in his arms.
And Nelly was in a very bad way. They’d given her another saline bath, because they were worried about her burns becoming infected. But it had been so painful, I’d heard her unearthly moans echoing down the corridor as I walked along with a patient. The sound had made my blood run cold. The pain of the bath had sent Nelly’s body into shock. The doctors had sedated her heavily – like they had when she was first injured. She’d been kept asleep for more than a week, and though I went to visit, of course, I missed her so much. I felt totally alone.
I even missed Mrs Gold, who seemed to be working every hour of the day and night and wasn’t around much. When our paths did cross I didn’t feel much like chatting because all I could think about was Nelly and how awful it was to know she was suffering in such a horrible way.
Of course the one person I didn’t get the chance to miss was Jackson. He was everywhere. He was working the same shift pattern as I was, so he was at work when I was at work and he was always there to walk me home, or to take the same train as me.
I tried leaving home early or late, I tried taking the bus, I tried everything I could to avoid him, but he would always track me down. He was always there. It was odd that I’d never had so much company – unwanted though it was – and I’d never felt so very alone.
I was grateful when I switched to night shifts again, for I knew we’d be rushed off our feet, and I hoped that being so busy would mean I had less time to fret over Nelly and to miss Harry.
I left for my shift very early, partly to avoid Jackson and partly to visit Nelly. I was worried about her and another good thing about working nights was that I could see her during the day. Her sedation had been gradually reduced and I hoped that today she’d be more awake. I planned to find the book and take it to show her – she seemed to like hearing the messages that people had written and had particularly loved the pictures drawn by the children. If she was up to it, I wanted to see if we could “chat” some more using the alphabet, too.
Of course, I couldn’t find the book. Someone told me it had been on ward 10, so I went there, but the nurses there said it had been taken down to the theatre because someone had specifically requested it. I felt nervy when I didn’t know where the book was. I knew I had been taking a risk to write such personal messages to Harry. I’d even thought about tearing those pages out, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it.
I went all the way down to the basement only to find that it had gone somewhere else with one of the doctors. I decided that I didn’t have enough time to track it down, so I’d visit Nelly first. But actually, when I arrived at her ward, she was with the doctors and I couldn’t go in to her room. Instead I peeked through the door, trying to see what was going on.
Her usual doctor was there, and so were two others and a nurse, too. I was glad there was a nurse there because I knew some of the doctors tended to talk about patients as if they couldn’t hear and I thought the nurse would stop that happening.
‘Three of them?’ I said to one of the nurses nearby. ‘Is that good or bad?’
She made a face. ‘I’ve never seen those other two before. They’re from a different hospital, I think. Doctor Gilligan wanted a second opinion.’
‘Are they moving her?’ I was worried about that. I really wasn’t sure Nelly would stand up to a journey.
But the nurse shook her head. ‘She’s not stable. I don’t think she’d make it. You ask me, she’d not make it out the front door of the hospital.’ Her eyes widened as she remembered I was Nelly’s friend and not just another nurse. ‘Sorry, forgot she was your mate.’
‘She’s very ill – I understand that.’ I swallowed. ‘She’s getting worse, isn’t she?’
‘It’s not good,’ the nurse admitted. Though then she shrugged. ‘But she’s still here.’
I nodded, as the door to Nelly’s room opened and the doctors and the nurse came out. They all looked grave and my stomach gave an unpleasant lurch as I took in their expressions.
‘Doctor?’ I said. ‘Can I …?’
Doctor Gilligan held his finger up to me, letting me know to give him a minute. The nurse who had been in the room with him rolled her eyes at me, and went off to file the notes she was holding.
‘Appreciate you coming down,’ the doctor said to the other men, slapping one of them on the back. ‘George, just shout if you need me to repay the favour, won’t you? Love to Erica and the children. And Marcus …’ He shook the other’s hand vigorously. ‘Great to meet you at last. Let’s hope the blasted Army get rid of that anti-aircraft gun soon and let us back on the golf course, eh?’
I watched their exchange, thinking that men spoke a different language to women, even though we were all using English.
The other men went off down the hall, and Doctor Gilligan turned to me. ‘Nurse,’ he said.
I opened my mouth to ask him what he and his friends had been discussing and found that no words came out. The other nurse stepped in.
‘This is Nurse Watson,’ she said. ‘She’s Nelly’s friend.’
The doctor’s slightly cross expression softened into sympathy, which actually made me feel a little worse. ‘Shall we sit down?’ he said.
I shook my head. ‘Just tell me.’
‘Nelly sustained burns to more than half her body,’ he began. I got the impression he was giving me the information he’d prepared for his visitors. ‘She has severe damage to her airway causing her respiratory distress. She’s lost a lot of fluid and her wounds are beginning to get infected. The pain of any treatment we can give her is so extreme that her body shuts down each time we try.’ He squeezed his lips together. ‘If the burns don’t kill her, the treatment might.’
‘I know,’ I said in a small voice. My jaw was clenched so tight that it hurt. ‘She’s not going to get better, is she?’
He paused and then slowly he shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not.’
I breathed in sharply. Hearing the words meant I could no longer ignore what I’d known all along. ‘How much time?’
‘Her burns are too extensive and her organs will soon begin shutting down,’ the doctor said. ‘A month or so? She’s fought so hard so far.’
‘A month?’
‘Of course, if she develops an infection, which I’m afraid is likely, then it could be quicker.’
My legs buckled and I felt the nurse grab my arm and guide me into a chair. ‘Put your head between your legs,’ she said. ‘It’s the shock, is all.’
I did as she told me, breathing in deeply as I tried to take in what he’d said. My lovely friend. My happy-go-lucky, lively, funny Nelly only had a few weeks left to live? And what awful, painful weeks they would be. Her organs failing. Her airway swelling. And the awful, dreadful pain.
Slowly I lifted my head, feeling the room spin. ‘Will she know what’s happening?’ I asked.
‘As you know, she has periods where she is conscious and responsive,’ the doctor said. ‘She will understand what’s happening. In some ways, that’s a blessing. She can say her goodbyes.’ He looked at me. ‘Perhaps you could write something for her, in your book. That might help?’
‘Are you going to tell her?’ I said. ‘That she’s dying?’
The doctor gave me a little half-smile. ‘I think she already knows, don’t you?’
*
I sat there for a while, as he continued on his rounds and then, aware that time was getting on and I had to start my shift soon, I forced myself to my feet and into Nelly’s room.
She was awake. And to my distress, she was crying. Tears were trickling from the only eye I could see, dripping down her face and on to the bedsheets. She was making a soft, painful moaning noise that rasped in her throat. When she saw me, she reached her hand out and held on to mine.
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I know.’
I sat down on the side of her bed, even though I knew I wasn’t supposed to, and I held her hand and I stroked her hair and I let her cry. I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling but I knew I wanted her to know that I would be there for her in the weeks to come.
‘I’ll write to your mother,’ I said eventually. ‘I’ll write a message for you.’
Nelly squeezed my fingers.
‘Would you like a priest?’ Nelly had never been much of a churchgoer but I had occasionally seen her holding on tight to her rosary beads when we were in the shelter and the bombs were falling nearby.
Nelly didn’t respond, though she was awake.
‘Is that a no?’ She squeezed my hand.
‘No priest, got it.’ She squeezed again. ‘Do you want me to get the book?’ I asked her. ‘You can show me the letters.’
This time she squeezed even harder.
‘I will,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t find it earlier, but I’ll go down and ask Frank to keep a lookout for it too, and I’ll come back after my shift.’
Still holding her hand, I leaned over, carefully avoiding putting any of my weight on her burns, and put my cheek to hers. ‘I’m going to be right here, all the time,’ I said. ‘Don’t be frightened.’
Nelly turned her head towards me slightly and I felt her breath on my skin. I blinked away my own tears, because I had to be strong for her. She’d been with me when I found out that Billy had died. She’d seen me through the nights when I’d cried and cried. Now I had to be brave for her.
‘I’ll be back in the morning,’ I said. ‘Get some rest.’
I blew her a kiss from the door of her room and hurried off to find Frank before I started my shift. Predictably, just as he was always around when I wasn’t looking for him, now I wanted to speak to him, he was nowhere to be seen. I went to the porters’ room, hoping he’d be there – and that Jackson would not.
But much to my disappointment it was Jackson who was inside, reading a newspaper and eating a sandwich. He was laughing with another porter who’d just finished his shift and when I walked in, they both looked up at me with annoyance, as though I’d interrupted something fun.
‘I was looking for Frank,’ I said.
Jackson looked around where he was sitting in overexaggerated fashion. ‘He’s not here.’
The other porter laughed. I thought about how when we were children, and Billy was with his friends, he would be mean to me and our mother always said he was showing off.
‘Thanks anyway,’ I said.
Jackson stood up. ‘No, don’t go. Sorry I was silly. I can help you.’
I didn’t want him to help me but now I couldn’t leave without seeming to have taken umbrage at his joke. I sighed. I always felt so unsettled when I was around Timothy Jackson. I really needed to learn how to deal with him better.
‘I’ll get off,’ the other porter said. He aimed a playful punch at Jackson’s upper arm.
Quick as a flash, Jackson put his hand out to block the hit. ‘Just try it, mate,’ he said with a hearty bellow of laughter.
The other man chuckled. ‘Just testing,’ he said. They both looked very pleased with themselves and I was reminded of how the doctors had all slapped each other on the back earlier on.
‘Don’t go on my account,’ I said quickly, because I didn’t want to be left alone with Jackson. But the porter picked up his coat anyway. I turned to Jackson, my words tumbling out. ‘I wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye out for the book. Because I need it and I’m not sure where it is.’
Behind me, the door to the porters’ room slammed shut as the other man left and there was a sudden quiet. Jackson grinned at me.
‘Course,’ he said. ‘Got something important to write?’
I shook my head. ‘It’s not for me, it’s for someone else.’
‘One of the airmen?’ The way he said “airmen” made it sound like an insult.
‘No, it’s for Nelly.’ I cast around for the right words. ‘She’s not doing so well.’ My voice cracked and immediately Jackson was at my side.
‘Oh, Elsie,’ he cooed, wrapping his arms around me. ‘Oh poor you.’
I tried to wriggle out of his embrace but he held me tighter. ‘Poor, poor you,’ he said. He was stroking my back and then suddenly his hand edged lower down until he was caressing my buttock. Again I tried to wriggle away but he held me fast. ‘Shhh,’ he said into my ear. ‘I’ll make you feel better. Doesn’t that feel nice?’
My cheek was pressed against his chest, the button on his porter’s coat digging into my skin. Now his hand trailed up my side and brushed against the edge of my breast. ‘Shhh,’ he said again. ‘There, there.’
With his grip loosened I saw my chance. I wriggled again and this time managed to untangle myself from his arms. ‘I have to go,’ I said. My cheek was burning where it had been pushed against Jackson’s body and I put my hand up to feel it. Jackson reached out and put his hand over mine and then suddenly he kissed me, pushing his mouth roughly against my lips.
I froze, hoping if I didn’t react he’d stop and sure enough, he pulled back. ‘Elsie,’ he groaned. He looked at me, in what seemed to be admiration. ‘You really are something. I never knew you were like that.’
I wanted to ask what he meant. What was I like? But I also wanted to be out of the porters’ room before he could kiss me again, so I dived for the door. ‘I have to go,’ I said again. And then I ran.