Ella climbed the steps to the Red Cross Headquarters in Moorfields, London. It had been two months now since her return from France and each week she’d made this vigil, hoping there would be a letter for her from Paulo.
The bitter, late-February wind cut into her as if she was naked, instead of being wrapped in her dark-green coat. If there was no letter today, she had decided she would begin to search for Paulo. She would start by writing to every officers’ convalescent home in Britain, and if that was fruitless, then she would travel to France to the area of the lost village where Paulo was born and had lived until the war. Surely someone would know where he was? She had to know if he was all right. But more than that, I want to see him – to be with him. I need to know if he will still want me, knowing . . .
Ella pulled herself up. Admitting to herself that she was having a baby was so difficult to deal with. She hadn’t even told Paddy.
Each month she’d begged her flow to start. But there was nothing. And there were other signs, too. Her breasts had enlarged, her nipples had darkened and her stomach looked a little rounder, although she had been spared any morning sickness. Maybe there is something else wrong with me? Please let it be so, as I can’t bear it to be having Jim’s baby.
‘I’m sorry, Miss, there is no post for you again.’ The voice of the clerk seemed alien to Ella. In her anguish, she couldn’t remember opening the door to enter the communication office and she hadn’t spoken. But then she’d no need to. The clerk knew why it was that she came here.
‘But there is a note for you to contact Miss Jane Embury. She said to tell you to call into her office as soon as you can.’
Ella nodded, then thanked the young girl. ‘I could go there now. Can you check if she can see me?’
The girl came back saying that Miss Embury would receive Ella now. All very formal, as all dealings with the woman were. A middle-aged spinster, Miss Embury was a member of the governing board of the Red Cross. It was to her that Ella had written about carrying out work in a rehabilitation centre.
‘Sit down, Ella. It is nice to see you again. Firstly, congratulations are in order. We received this.’
Ella took the certificate that Miss Embury handed to her, not knowing what it had to do with her.
‘Read it.’
The smile on Miss Embury’s face made Ella even more curious, but her curiosity turned to shock as she read:
The KING has been pleased to award the Albert Medal in recognition of gallantry displayed in saving life:
MISS MARJELLA WRONSKI – VOLUNTARY AID DETACHMENT
1st October 1918 a fire broke out at No. 36 Casualty Clearing Station at Rousbrugge, Belgium, and quickly reached the operating theatre, where the surgeon was performing an abdominal operation. The lights went out, and the theatre was quickly filled with smoke and flames, but the operation was continued by the light of an electric torch, Miss Wronski continuing her work of handing instruments and threading needles with steadfast calmness, thereby enabling the surgeon to complete the operation. Miss Wronski afterwards did splendid work in helping to carry men from the burning wards to places of safety.
‘Oh, but I . . . What about the others? There were so many of us.’
‘They have all been recognized, my dear, and we will be contacting them. We are arranging a ceremony for every Red Cross worker who was involved. We are very proud of you all. You will receive your medal at the ceremony, and we will contact you all soon to arrange it.’
‘Thank you. I’m so undeserving, but feel very honoured. Have you the list of all those honoured? I mean, do you know if any of the Queen Alexandra nurses are to receive recognition?’
‘No, but I understand that each and every person involved in the evacuation of the patients is to receive recognition. Did you have someone in mind?’
‘Yes, Bernadette Riley. She is helping me with my nanny, who needs constant care. Bernadette was bereaved when she came home, and so she’s staying with me.’
‘Well, if she has informed the army of her new address, I am sure she will receive her honour. Is that everything?’
‘I wanted to ask you about the rehabilitation centres?’
‘Yes, I did want to discuss that with you, as we have joined with the Salvation Army. That is, we have offered them our help and some resources. They have an excellent system in place for feeding, clothing and generally helping the homeless. I understand you want to channel your spare time into this work?’
‘I do. Very much so.’
‘Then here is the address of our contact. You will go as a Red Cross worker, as you haven’t left our service, only taken a break – something that I was pleased to see. Go along and see Charles Wormington, who will give you further instructions.’
‘Thank you. He does know that I only have limited hours?’
‘Yes, but you can discuss all of that with him. Now I’m afraid I am very busy, Miss Wronski, so if there’s nothing else, I’ll say goodbye for now and will look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. We are hoping to get our chief to come along to present you all with your medals.’
It’s now or never. I’ll never get this chance again. Miss Embury rarely gives interviews regarding personal staff problems. But there is no one better to help me than her.
‘Th – there is something. I’m sorry to take up your time, but I’m looking for a French officer. I – I, well, we met at Hospital 36. He was a patient and was evacuated from the fire. He would have needed further intense treat-ment—’
‘I do know something of this, but you know it is not encouraged that you make alliances, Miss Wronski.’
‘I – I know, but we didn’t mean to. It just happened. He wrote to me. He said he would write here when he was settled, but nothing has arrived. I – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it . . .’
There was a long silence. Ella didn’t know whether to rise and leave or carry on sitting there. Eventually she stood.
‘I may seem to you like an over-the-hill spinster, but something similar happened to me during the Boer War. My young man was killed. We met on the ward of a field hos-pital and fell instantly in love. He recovered enough to go back to the front line. I never saw him again.’
During the pause that followed, Ella could only say that she was sorry.
‘No, don’t be. I have come to terms with my loss. I just wanted you to know that I do understand. I must have come across as heartless, giving you the official line. But rules don’t take into account human emotions. Give me all the information you have and I will see if I can trace your young man. Now, I really must get on.’
This last was said rather abruptly, but Ella knew, from Miss Embury’s reddened cheeks, that she was covering the embarrassment she felt at sharing something so personal.
Saying her goodbyes, Ella left the office feeling full of hope. There must be records of where every soldier was sent that day of the fire – and afterwards. Miss Embury would have access to those.
Within an hour Ella was sitting opposite Charles Wormington, the coordinator of the charitable operations run by the Salvation Army. In his fifties, he was small and balding and had an air of importance about him.
‘We will be glad of your help, Miss Wronski. There is much to do. Especially for those displaced by the war. We have many nationalities waiting for transport home. Canadians, Australians and those from other Commonwealth countries. It is a challenging task.’
‘What will you expect of me, Mr Wormington?’
‘Whatever you can give. Time, of course, to help where needed. We supply meals to the many homeless, and medical care on a small scale, and with the help of local doctors who can give their time and expertise to us. But a lot of work is needed to keep those men who are displaced looked after, until they are shipped home. It is all work the government should be tackling, but doesn’t seem able to. We most need help in the soup kitchens, and distributing clothing. We have only a few hostels, so placements in them are limited, but each person needs assessing for those. That’s medical, more than anything, and I fear we are helping to spread the flu virus by giving aid to all and sundry, and yet . . .’
‘You cannot refuse help. I understand. But I agree that an assessment of health should be carried out on each applicant. Some sort of isolation for those with the virus maybe?’
‘Yes, that’s exactly it. Help for all, but channelled correctly, so that we don’t end up killing everyone.’
‘That is where I could help the most. I’m not a qualified nurse, but I have a great deal of training and experience that would enable me to assess each applicant. But where would I send those in need of medical help?’
‘That’s where the Red Cross will come in. They are running several clinics and helping out at hospitals. I will contact Miss Embury, and will organize something with them. Can you start tomorrow?’
With the arrangements in place, Ella began her walk home. The threat of the virus was so frightening that she avoided all public transport. Even taxi cabs didn’t feel safe. The biggest threat would come when she returned the next day to help assess those needing assistance, but at least then she would have her uniform on and would wear a mask, besides having sterilization equipment to hand.
But should she be taking such a risk, knowing what she knew about her condition?
Calling out that she was home, Ella was surprised not to be greeted. A cold fear seized her as she remembered how pale Paddy had looked this morning.
‘Paddy?’
Still no reaction.
Discarding her coat, Ella rushed through the empty living room to her nanny’s bedroom. ‘Paddy. Oh, Paddy, what’s happened?’
Paddy lay on the floor next to Nanny’s bed. Her body was trembling.
‘I – I had a – a sudden attack of dizziness.’
‘Oh, Paddy, you’re sweating.’
‘I’m so c – cold.’
Dread entered Ella’s heart. ‘Let me help you up. Is Nanny all right?’
‘Yes . . .’
Getting Paddy up took all of Ella’s strength. Pain creased her back as she finally got Paddy to the sofa in the living room. Exhausted, she slumped down into a chair, just as Paddy threw up.
Unable to move as the pain in her back increased, Ella tried to soothe her friend. ‘Don’t worry, Paddy, it might not be influenza. I’ll get my breath back and then I’ll clean you up and fetch the doctor.’
Paddy didn’t answer, but laid her head back. Her face had a deathly pallor.
Making a huge effort, Ella got out of the chair and fetched a bowl of water. Never had the smell of vomit made her feel sick, but before long she was using the bowl herself. Oh, dear God, no!
‘Oh, Ella, I’m sorry. Let me help. It is that I’m for feeling better now.’
Judging by how Paddy looked and how difficult it was for her to get across the room without holding on to things, Ella thought she must have felt rotten before. Dear Paddy was making an extreme effort. ‘No. Come and sit back down. I’m all right now. I – I, well, I have a reason why things that I usually take in my stride now upset my stomach.’
Paddy had reached the table in the corner. She clung on to it and turned to stare at Ella. ‘No! No – not that . . . Holy Mary, Mother of God!’
Ella couldn’t hold her tears back.
‘D – don’t, Ella . . . don’t. There’s worse things. And we said that if it happens, we will deal with it. Well, we will. We’ll get ourselves through this, so we will. And – and we’ll be after loving the child.’
‘Oh yes. No matter how it was conceived, it is my child and I will love it. But I didn’t want to be having a baby. I didn’t.’
‘Me poor wee Ella. This shouldn’t be happening to you, of all people.’
Paddy had made it back to the sofa, stepping over the mess as she went. Sitting down, she reached over and took Ella’s hand. For a split second the action made Ella afraid and she nearly snatched her hand away, but then scolded herself. Don’t be silly. If the influenza virus is in this house, then I’ll more than likely catch it anyway. She clung tightly to Paddy.
After a moment Paddy said, ‘Will you look at us? Sitting here crying. For the love of Jesus, there’s an awful smell in here.’
Ella felt a giggle coming on and, when she let it out, it was a full laugh. ‘Oh, Paddy, Paddy.’
‘What? Here’s me taking to me sickbed and all you can do is laugh!’
‘I know. I’ll soon have you sorted. Let me help you to the bathroom. I’ll bring you a nightie and you can get into bed. Then I’ll clean this mess up.’
Once Paddy was in bed, a little colour came back to her, although that worried Ella, as it consisted of two spots, high up on her cheeks.
‘Paddy. How are you feeling? Do you have aches in your limbs? A sore throat? Shivers?’
‘Y – yes.’
‘Well, I think we both know what this is. Now you’re to stay in this room at all times. I have a jerry-pot somewhere – you can use that to go to the toilet in. I’ll bring a screen in from my room, so you can have privacy while you use it. I’m sorry, love, but I must go back into medical mode. I will wear my uniform and keep changing my apron and gloves, and I’ll wear a mask while I am in here. Is that all right with you?’
‘It’s for being fine, and for the best. Do it right away, this very minute, Ella. Scrub everything I’ve been for touching. And let us hope that the Good Lord is merciful and doesn’t let you come down with it.’
For the next twelve hours Ella rested for only five minutes at a time, between dousing Paddy’s hot, sweaty, trembling body with cold water, in a desperate attempt to reduce her temperature, and changing her and her bedding, to try and keep her comfortable.
Her supply of clean sheets and nightwear was running out, so she resorted to ripping in half the clean linen that was left and using the strips as draw sheets, but the task of keeping Paddy in a dry bed was proving too difficult.
During a respite of ten minutes, when Paddy was less distressed, Ella managed to fill and light the copper and dunk the soiled bedclothes into it to boil.
Nanny slept through most of it, as she was doing most of the time now. But just after two in the morning, her voice became stronger than Ella had heard it since coming home. ‘Ella . . . Ella!’
Ripping off her apron and gloves and donning clean ones, Ella removed her mask. ‘I’m coming, Nanny. I won’t be a moment.’
Rushing into the bathroom, Ella scrubbed her face and hands, before entering Nanny’s bedroom. Nanny had pushed her bedclothes off and had sat up. Her expression was one of dazed unawareness.
‘Oh, Nanny, what’s to do? Is there something the matter?’
‘Ella. I . . . I can’t remember.’
‘Lie down, dear. Don’t get cold. There, that’s better. Here, take a sip of water, Nanny.’ Taking the glass of water at the side of Nanny’s bed, Ella held it to her lips while she drank. ‘Were you dreaming, Nanny?’
‘What, dear? Oh, I didn’t know you were a nurse, Mona.’
‘Who’s Mona, Nanny? I’m Ella, remember?’
‘Yes. I have an Ella – Marjella. Ella is her new name, given to her during the war. I like it. I call my Marjella “Ella” now.’
‘That’s right. That’s me, dear. I’m Ella.’
‘How’s Momma, Mona? Is she well? I haven’t seen her for a long time. I had to leave. I had a child. I had no business having a child.’ Nanny began to cry.
‘It’s all right, Nanny. Ella’s here.’
‘No . . . no, Ella’s his child, not mine! But I love her. I hate him! He – he made me, Mona. I – I’m sorry. Tell Momma I’m sorry.’
Shock, on hearing this, stilled Ella. But Nanny’s heart-rending sobs brought her back to what was required. ‘Nanny, it’s Ella, not Mona. You’re all right, Nanny darling. I’m taking care of you.’
‘My child died, Mona. H – he died. Little Aleksy, he was beautiful . . . beautiful.’
‘Oh, Nanny. I’m sorry. Dear Nanny, try to forget. Rest now.’
‘I’ll never forget him, ever. His blue eyes and curly brown hair. Oh, Aleksy . . . Aleksy.’
Ella held Nanny’s hand. It seemed that no matter what she said, Nanny was in this other world, where these people she’d never before spoken of lived.
‘Ella must never know, Mona . . . never! Promise you won’t tell her.’
‘It’s all right, Nanny. I’m here. It’s Ella, Nanny. There’s no Mona here.’
‘Mona, stop mentioning Ella. It must be our secret, she must never know. The Wronskis are devils. Spiteful! Not Mrs Wronski; she was an angel. She died giving birth to Ella. Oh, how she would have loved her. But I have loved Ella for her. I tried to be with Ella how I knew Kasienka would have been, if she had lived. I never told Ella of her hateful, lying, cheating father. He got rid of Ella, you know, Mona. He banished me and made me take Ella with me. That new wife of his didn’t want us around. Well, she was welcome to him. Though he did keep paying the money to us, so he hadn’t forgotten us altogether.’
‘Nanny, where do they live? Where in Poland?’
‘I can’t tell you that, Mona. I can’t. No one must know who might tell my Ella.’
Against all that she believed she should do, Ella pretended that she was Mona. ‘I won’t tell her, Nanny, nor will I tell Momma.’
‘Momma knows. She got me the position there.’
‘Where? And who made you have a baby?’
‘That pig. That Wronski. He – he didn’t help me. The man came to visit. I was a maid, just a maid. I waited on them at table, and Wronski’s friend took a shine to me. They – they played cards. I served them drinks . . . Oh, Mona, they played one of the games with me as the prize. Whoever won, they would . . . I begged, Mona. I screamed and kicked, but they took me to a bedroom – and Wronski watched. He watched!’
‘Oh, Nanny. Nanny.’ This was too much. To hear that her dear nanny had been through such an ordeal. And to hear so much information, at last, about her own parents – terrible things. My father was a monster, but my mother was a good person. Oh, Mama, I’m so sorry that my birth killed you. So sorry . . .
‘There, there, don’t cry, Ella. Are you hurt? Nanny kiss you better.’
‘Oh, my dear Nanny, I love you.’ As she said this, Ella lowered herself to accept the hug that Nanny’s open arms promised. It felt good to be held by her, and to have her back in the real world.
‘I’m tired, Ella. So tired.’
‘Rest now, dear. I’ll sit by your side. I’m all better now. Look, I’m not crying.’ But am I better? Will I ever feel better again? The past is now one of the ripples of my life – a persistent ripple. The biggest ripple of them all.