Cousins at War (21 page)

‘Thanks.’ Neil relaxed as the lorry moved off. He’d likely have a long wait, knowing the army, but he couldn’t get up and walk away. He was as weak as a new-born kitten,
his head was pounding like a sledgehammer and he was desperately cold.

‘You’re shivering.’ The girl looked down compassionately. ‘I suppose it’s shock. I’d better wait till the ambulance comes.’

‘There’s no need.’ But his protest was unconvincing.

‘Don’t argue. By the way, what’s your name?’

‘Neil Ferris.’

‘I’m Freda Cuthbert. My dad has the market garden about half a mile up the road.’

‘I’ve . . . seen . . .’ Reaction had caught up on him now, making it difficult to think clearly enough to speak coherently.

Noticing his discomfort, Freda kept talking, ‘I work with my dad, but I’ve just come from his sister’s. She’s sprained her ankle, and she phoned to ask if I’d take
her some potatoes. She’s not too bad, really, but she can’t put any weight on her foot so I tidied up a bit, and peeled a few of the spuds. She had some meat left from yesterday so I
didn’t need to cook for her and she wouldn’t let me do anything else.’

She paused briefly, obviously thinking what else to say. ‘I’d better tell you something about myself, now. I’ll be twenty in August, I’ve still got all my own teeth, and
I’ve never had a perm. I registered along with my age group but I’m working on the land already so they didn’t want me.’

She stopped again to look at him. ‘I’m not bothering you, am I?’ His faint headshake reassured her. ‘I don’t usually talk so much but I was afraid for a while there
that you were going to pass out on me again. You’re not, are you? Good. I don’t go out much in the evenings, though my dad’s always telling me I should go to the dances. I’m
a bit shy, you see. Maybe you’ll find this hard to believe but I’ve never spoken to a stranger before. Some of the soldiers whistle at me if they see me in the fields and one or two
stop and try to chat me up but I pretend not to hear, and they go away.’

Neil wondered why her voice was fading and prayed that he wasn’t going to sink under again, but that wasn’t what it was. In a great, shaming rush, his stomach gave up its contents
and he was unable to keep it back. Worse, it was so unexpected that he had no time to turn his head, even if he could, which was doubtful, so the vomit went all down his front.

When he stopped retching, Freda laid a cool, soothing hand on his clammy brow. ‘Do you feel better now?’ He was too exhausted even to nod, so she said, ‘I’ll clean you
up, but my hankie’s covered with blood, so I’ll have to take yours, wherever it is. Don’t move, Neil, I’ll find it.’

The breast pocket of his overalls yielded only bits of paper, scraps of pencils and a few washers, so she dug her hand into his left trouser pocket but had to try the other one before she pulled
out a grubby, khaki handkerchief. ‘It’s a bit oily, but I don’t suppose it’ll matter.’

Before she started, she used some dock leaves to get off the worst of the mess, then rubbed hard with the handkerchief for a few minutes. ‘That’ll have to do. The smell won’t
go away until your boiler suit’s had a good wash.’

The ambulance arrived then, and she stood aside until the two men lifted him on to a stretcher, but the movement jarred him so much that he lost consciousness once again.

He came round in hospital. At first, his mind was a blur but little by little it came back to him – the crash, the pain, the oil drum, the girl. The girl? Was she real, or was she part of
a delirious dream he’d had? No, she was definitely real. She’d said her name was Freda Cuthbert and she stayed with him until the ambulance came, talking, but he couldn’t remember
much of what she’d said. A market garden? Her father owned the market garden along the road. It was funny he’d never seen her but he would likely have been going too fast to notice. He
would have to go and thank her once he was out of here.

‘You’re with us now, are you?’ A smiling young nurse, her red cheeks shining, was standing beside him. ‘Your legs have been set, one was broken in three places, but
don’t try to move much yet. Your whole body’s had a shake-up, and you’ve had a nasty crack on your nose. That’s the bad news, but the good news is that your
girlfriend’s waiting to see you. Will I send her in?’

‘My girlfriend?’

He looked so puzzled that the nurse laughed. ‘She didn’t say she was your girlfriend, I just thought she must be for she’s been here for hours. Her name’s Freda, if that
means anything?’

‘She’s the girl who found me. Do I look presentable?’

‘Apart from a couple of black eyes and the dressings on your nose and cheek, you’re fine. I’ll tell her you’ve come round.’

Freda walked into the ward a moment later. ‘How are you?’

‘Not too bad, considering. Did you come in the ambulance with me? You shouldn’t have waited but thanks for everything.’

‘I wanted to know how badly you were hurt, so I cycled after the ambulance, and I’m only allowed to stay a minute . . . would it be OK if I come back when you’re fit for
visitors?’

‘I’d like that, but don’t feel obliged to come.’

‘I want to.’

As soon as Freda went out, Neil closed his eyes. The allotted minute had been long enough for him but he was grateful to her for waiting. He was sure she wasn’t one of those girls who were
just out for what they could get but he hoped that she hadn’t felt sorry for him, or responsible for him because she had been first on the scene of his accident. He had vowed never to get
attached to any girl after Queenie but he wouldn’t complain if Freda wanted to be more than a friend.

Gracie hadn’t even reached the end of Neil’s latest letter when she looked up in alarm. ‘He’s had an accident on a motor bike,’ she told Joe. ‘Only a broken
leg and scratches on his face, he says, but maybe he’s just saying that to save me worrying.’

‘If he’s able to write, he can’t be that bad,’ Joe pointed out, quite reasonably.

‘But he’ll have nobody to visit him, away down there.’

‘He’s got pals, and he’ll be enjoying the attention he’ll get from all the young nurses.’

Neither of them noticed how Queenie had reacted. Her face had blanched at the mention of his accident, her fingers plucked at the tablecloth in agitation. Joe glanced at the clock on the
mantelpiece and jumped up. ‘I never noticed the time, I should be away.’ He turned as he went out. ‘Don’t worry, Gracie, lass. A broken leg’ll soon mend.’

Gracie looked across at her niece. ‘What d’you think? Is Neil telling me everything?’

Queenie stood up. ‘I hope so. I’ll have to hurry too.’

As she ran down the stairs, she wished that she could go to see Neil, to find out how he was, but he would likely refuse to see her, if the way he’d treated her last time he was home was
anything to go by. He could be dying for all she knew, and she would never find out what had gone wrong between them . . . but he had written to his mother, so he couldn’t be dying. The
thought did comfort her a little, but she realised that he might still be badly injured and it would be a long time before he was fit enough to come home again.

When a letter from Olive arrived, Neil was tempted not to open it, but curiosity got the better of him.

She was quite goodhearted in her own way, Neil thought, laying the letter down at his side and stretching across to his locker for his writing pad and pen. She had certainly
changed for the better lately. There was nothing out of place in what she had written and she was bound to be curious about his health when she was studying medicine. She had likely sent her last
letter with the best of intentions, for she couldn’t have had any idea of how he felt about Queenie at the time.

He addressed an envelope, then read the letter over and added a postscript. ‘I bet you’ll be surprised at getting a letter from me by return.’

Long before the afternoon visiting time, his eyes were drawn to the door of the ward and the stream of nurses scuttling in and out with bedpans had his spirits leaping and sinking like the
scenic railway at Aberdeen, and just as he thought that he would have a heart attack from the strain of waiting, a sister fixed the doors back to let the visitors in. Luckily for Neil’s
heart, Freda was one of the first to enter and as she sat down at his bedside, she lifted the letter he had written. ‘Do you want me to post this for you?’ She gave it a quick glance,
then asked, ‘Is it to your girlfriend?’

‘Olive’s my cousin,’ he answered, a little stiffly.

Taken aback at his tone, she said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosey.’

He stretched out his hand to her. ‘No, I’m sorry. It was just . . . I didn’t want you to think I’d a girlfriend.’ Noticing that she seemed happier at that, he
relaxed, but wished he’d the courage to tell her that he wouldn’t mind having
her
as his girlfriend. It was too soon for that, in any case, so it was as well to keep their
relationship light.

Neil’s next letter eased his mother’s mind – and his cousin’s – about his wellbeing but raised other doubts. ‘He’s going on about a
girl now,’ Gracie told Joe, in some concern. ‘Listen to this. “Freda visits me every day. She’s the girl who found me after the accident. She even cycled to the hospital
behind the ambulance and waited till I was out of the anaesthetic so she could come in and see if I was all right.” What do you make of that?’ she appealed.

‘Is that all?’ Joe smiled. ‘I don’t know what you’re getting all worked up for. She likely feels a bit responsible for him and she just goes to make sure he’s
recovering.’

‘You can’t see past the end of your nose!’ Gracie declared, a little annoyed at him for making light of her worry. She turned to Queenie now, ‘I bet she’s after
him.’ Her niece’s woebegone expression made her wish that she had held her tongue.

‘He’ll be glad of her visits,’ the girl said forlornly.

‘Aye, like enough, and I’ll read the rest out to you, for he doesn’t say any more about her. “I’ll likely be here for a few weeks yet but don’t worry. My
leg’s mending nicely, the doctors say, and I’ll just be left with a wee mark on my nose. It could have been an awful lot worse. I hope you and Dad are keeping well, and not working too
hard. Love, Neil.” He sounds cheery enough.’ Gracie glanced at Queenie again and was pleased that her colour was returning though she was still a bit pale.

Queenie felt hurt that Neil hadn’t even mentioned her in his letter, and wondered if Gracie had been right in thinking that Freda was after him, but probably not. It was natural for her to
visit him, when she had seen the state he must have been in after the accident. Any decent girl would do the same and it would stop after he got out of hospital.

With his nervous system not fully recovered from the accident, Neil was ripe for overresponding to any sort of kindness and Freda’s daily visits had come to mean a great
deal to him. She was completely different from either of his cousins – not full of arrogant self-confidence like Olive nor bubbling with life like Queenie – but her quiet, almost shy,
manner was as balm to his buffeted spirits and he sang her praises to Alf Melville every time he went to the hospital.

‘I think I can smell love in the air,’ Alf smirked one day, about six weeks after the accident.

‘Nothing of the kind,’ Neil blustered then gave a chuckle. ‘Maybe you’re right. I think I love her, but I don’t know how she feels about me.’

Having met the girl on several occasions, Alf’s grin widened. ‘She’s bats about you. I’ve never seen a more sickening case of love with the lid on and that goes for you,
as well. Put her out of her misery, Neil, lad, before I’ve to knock your stupid heads together.’

Lying back after his friend went out, Neil concluded that he didn’t just think, he was so deeply in love with Freda that he couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing her again after he
got out of hospital. He would have to find out if Alf’s assessment of her was true, that she was ‘bats about him’. He would have to risk being rebuffed, but he couldn’t go
on without knowing one way or the other.

‘Did you have Alf in last night?’

Neil was too keyed-up to make small talk. ‘Freda,’ he burst out loudly, oblivious to everyone around them, ‘I love you, and I want to know if you love me.’

‘Ssh!’ Her cheeks pink, she looked around to see if any of the people making their way to other beds had heard but it was the patient in the bed next to Neil who said, ‘Go on,
then, do you love him? I can’t bear this suspense.’