Far From Home (14 page)

The smile broadened. ‘Student Nurse Barker is tougher than she looks.’ She approached the bedside and looked down at Adam. ‘It must have been quite a shock to see him like this,’ she murmured. ‘Would you like me to go through his treatment and prognosis with you?’

‘Please. Although, by the looks of the drugs he’s being given, I can tell his situation must be serious.’

Sister Morley opened the folder she’d been carrying. ‘Adam took the brunt of a mortar blast,’ she said quietly. ‘He was lucky to survive, and the medics on the hospital ship did a sterling job on him during the time it took to get him here. Apart from the tib, fib and femur fractures, he also has a compound fracture of the radius. Three of his ribs were broken, one of which pierced his lung, which is why he has that chest wound.’

She looked up from her notes and placed a warm, caring hand on Polly’s shoulder. ‘The head wounds were rather more serious, I’m afraid.’

‘Go on,’ murmured Polly.

‘Mr Fortescue had to remove several shards of shrapnel from his skull. According to the theatre sister, it was a long, delicate operation, and they had to resuscitate him twice before it was over.’

Polly gripped Adam’s hand, her tears blinding her. ‘Will there be brain damage?’ she asked fearfully.

‘There is a possibility,’ Sister Morley warned softly. ‘We won’t really know until he wakes up.’ She squeezed Polly’s shoulder in sympathy. ‘He’s heavily sedated, as you’ve probably realised. But the morphine is keeping him out of pain while his body has a chance to heal.’

‘Thank you, Sister Morley.’

‘Please, call me Mary. I’ve only come back to nursing since war was declared and my children were sent to Wales. As we’re going to be colleagues, it seems silly to be so formal.’

‘I’m Polly,’ she sniffed, rummaging in her handbag for a handkerchief. She shot Mary a watery smile and blew her nose. ‘It’s all come as a terrible shock,’ she said. ‘When I rang the hospital from Hereford, they said he was comfortable and expected to make a full recovery.’

Mary frowned. ‘When did you last ring?’

‘About a week ago.’

Mary sighed. ‘They weren’t lying to you, Polly,’ she said softly. ‘He was doing very well once the bones had been set and his lung was repaired. Five days ago he had a fit, and that was when Mr Fortescue took him back into surgery. You see, it was thought all the shrapnel had been recovered from his head wound, but X-rays showed there was one small fragment still there – and it was pressing on part of his brain. Mr Fortescue managed to retrieve it, but …’

‘I see.’ Polly held Adam’s palm against her tear-streaked cheek.

‘Do you have any family down here, Polly? Anyone to support you through this?’

Polly shook her head, the tears running faster now. ‘They’re on their way to Canada on one of the convoys. Our little girl Alice is with them. Oh God, Mary. I’ve known him all my life – loved him for as long as I can remember. What if he dies and I never have the chance to speak with him again?’

Mary hastily drew the curtains round the bed so they could have some privacy. She folded the sides of her apron carefully over her lap and broke all the rules by perching on the side of the bed. ‘You have to keep strong, Polly. Not just for Adam, but for your little Alice. You’re a nurse. You must have seen cases like this before – and they don’t all end in tragedy.’

Polly smeared away the tears and blew her nose again. ‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘But it’s so much harder when it’s someone you love.’

‘Of course it is,’ Mary murmured, ‘and although you might not think so right this minute, Matron was right to assign you to the women’s ward.’ She stilled Polly’s agitated hands, thereby stifling her protest. ‘We have twelve very sick men in this ward, and each of them deserves our full attention. It wouldn’t be fair on you or anyone else if you worked here, because regardless of your professionalism, Adam would become your priority.’

‘You’re right, of course you are,’ Polly sniffed. She made a concerted effort to be mature and sensible about the situation, but realised it could be a while before she had her emotions under control. The past week had been the most difficult of her life, but now she must put her own cares aside and concentrate on Adam and the job she was here to do.

‘Thanks, Mary,’ she murmured. ‘You’ve been a brick, you really have.’ She shot her a watery grin. ‘And I promise not to break down again.’

‘Tears are as healing as sleep,’ Mary said quietly and gave her a soft smile. ‘If you’ve come all the way from Hereford, I suspect you’re worn out and in need of a good night’s rest before you get stuck in on Women’s Surgical tomorrow.’

Polly nodded. ‘I could probably sleep for a week if I didn’t have so many things to worry about.’

Mary looked thoughtful as she chewed her lip. ‘Look, Polly, I know this is breaking all the rules, but if you want to see Adam out of visiting hour, I’m sure we can devise a plan.’

Polly couldn’t suppress the joy and hope as she looked back at Mary. ‘But what about Matron?’

Mary winked. ‘I know when she has her meal breaks and when she’s in conference with the consultants.’ She stood and smoothed her starched apron into place and drew back the curtains. ‘I’ll leave you now, but come to my desk before you go and I’ll give you a list of times when it’s safe to visit.’

Polly softly held Adam’s hand, and leant her cheek lightly on his stubbly chin. ‘Did you hear that, my darling?’ she whispered. ‘I think I’ve just made a friend.’

The fish pie had gone down a treat and Mrs Finch had blushed at everyone’s praises, and promised to think of something equally delicious for tea the following day.

As the three girls chattered happily over their meals and discussed their plans for the evening, Peggy had nursed the hope that they could persuade the almost silent Danuta to go with them to the fund-raising dance at the church hall.

It was for a good cause, and billed, ‘From the frying pan into the Spitfire’, so most of her old pots and pans had been commandeered as donations. The girls had certainly made an effort to coax Danuta out, but she had turned down their invitation by saying she had to be in bed early because her shift in the laundry started at six-thirty.

Peggy had caught Mrs Finch’s eye. They’d both seen the look that passed between the other girls and realised the invitation wouldn’t be made again. Peggy had felt sadness sweep over her. She wanted so much for Danuta to fit in, to feel this was her home, but it seemed the girl was determined to keep herself to herself.

She’d turned her attention to the others. They were a close-knit bunch, those three girls, having nursed at the Cliffehaven Memorial since they qualified, and they looked so pretty in their summer frocks, with their lipstick and high heels – so animated by the thought of dancing the night away with their admirers.

Poor Danuta was just plain dowdy beside them, her lack of social graces setting her even further apart from the rest of the household, and Peggy’s soft heart went out to her. Perhaps the real reason behind her reluctance to go with them was because she didn’t possess a stitch of decent clothing?

After the girls had left for their evening out, Peggy persuaded Danuta to stay at the table and have a cup of tea before rushing back to her room as she usually did. Her gaze flickered over the girl as she poured the tea, but her thoughts were on Aleksy. She would be letting him down if she didn’t help his little sister, but she would have to tread warily. Danuta was quite prickly, and very proud. She might not appreciate Peggy’s interference, and perhaps even resent the cast-off clothing that Peggy had begun to set aside from the WVS rehoming centre.

Determined not to dwell on Danuta’s unfortunate circumstances, Peggy turned her attention to her father-in-law. Dressed in his Home Guard uniform and highly polished boots, he looked cheerful, and there was a glint of something in his roguish old eyes that she couldn’t decipher.

‘You’re looking pleased with yourself, Ron. What have you been up to?’

‘Mischief, I’ll be bound,’ muttered Mrs Finch, with an impish grin. ‘Old scallywag.’

He puffed out his chest, making the brass buttons on his khaki jacket wink in the electric light. ‘Well now,’ he drawled. ‘That’s fer me to know, and fer you to be worrying about.’

‘I bet it has something to do with Rosie Braithwaite,’ Peggy murmured, a smile touching her lips.

‘Maybe,’ he replied, his eyes twinkling, ‘and maybe not.’ He drained his cup of tea and pushed back from the table. It took a moment for him to place the tin helmet over his head, the canvas satchel and gas-mask box over his shoulder, and pick up his rifle. ‘I’ll be off to me Home Guard duties,’ he said gruffly. ‘See you in the morning.’

‘Have you got those sandwiches I made?’

‘Aye, and the thermos.’ He whistled to Harvey, who trotted after him as he marched into the hall and out of the front door.

Peggy smiled at Danuta who was silently clearing the table. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘it looks as if us womenfolk have the evening to ourselves. What do you both say to a game of cribbage after we’ve done the washing-up?’

‘I do not know this game,’ said Danuta with a frown.

‘I’ll teach you, dear,’ offered Mrs Finch, who was struggling to get out of her chair. ‘Quite a dab hand at crib, even if I do say so myself.’

Danuta rushed to help her, and once she was on her feet the old woman looked up at her and cocked her head. ‘Thank you, dear, but you know, you’d look and feel so much prettier if you smiled,’ she trilled. ‘I do so like happy faces, don’t you?’

‘I am sorry,’ murmured Danuta, her green eyes doleful. ‘I would like to smile, but my heart is empty. I am a stranger here, and every day it is clear that I do not fit in.’

‘What utter nonsense,’ said Mrs Finch, quite startling Peggy with her uncharacteristic fierceness. ‘Of course you fit in – but you have to make the effort, dear. Don’t you see? A smile earns a smile. A good word earns a good word.’ She patted Danuta’s hand as if to make up for her strong words. ‘I know you’re mourning Aleksy, and that you’re disappointed at not being able to nurse. But you’re safe here with us and we want you to be happy.’

‘I am sorry,’ murmured Danuta. ‘It is just that everything is so strange, and I feel I am – what is the saying – a fish out of the sea.’

‘We all feel like that at times,’ murmured Mrs Finch. She softly patted the girl’s cheek. ‘Chin up, my dear.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Finch,’ mumbled Danuta. ‘You are most kind, and remind me very much of my
Babunia
– my grandmother. She too had the strong words and the soft heart.’

‘Then you may call me
Babunia
, if you wish,’ she replied, stumbling over the word a little. ‘I have yet to meet my own grandchildren, who live in Canada, and at my age it is an honour to be regarded fondly as someone’s granny.’

Peggy found she had to clear the lump in her throat before she could speak. ‘Right, let’s get this washing-up sorted before …’

The siren began to wail, the chilling crescendo cutting off any further conversation.

Peggy grabbed Mrs Finch’s handbag and gas mask. ‘Take her down to the shelter and pick up pillows and blankets on the way,’ she ordered Danuta. ‘I’ll get the box of supplies.’

The front door crashed open as Peggy reached the hall. ‘Polly,’ she breathed, hand on heart. ‘You gave me a fright, and no mistake.’

Polly was out of breath. ‘I ran all the way home,’ she gasped. ‘The sirens were already going off on the far side of town, and I had some warden chase me down Camden Road.’

‘That’d be Wally,’ Peggy muttered. ‘Hurry up then, dear, we’re going into the shelter. Grab your tea out of the stove on your way, but mind – the plate will be hot.’

The searchlights were already tracing the sky for enemy planes as Peggy hurried down the path after Danuta and Mrs Finch. The wailing siren continued its shrill warning as she lit the lamp and settled the box on the bench. ‘I think I’ve got everything in there,’ she muttered, ‘but it’s been such a busy day, I can’t remember if I replaced the biscuits we finished last night.’

Danuta helped Mrs Finch into the deckchair that had been firmly wedged in the corner of the Anderson shelter. The old lady had a habit of falling asleep and sliding to one side, so Danuta surrounded her with pillows. ‘You are comfortable,
Babunia
? You would like a blanket?’

‘I’m fine, dear,’ she assured her. ‘I’ll just switch off my hearing aid so I can get to sleep. Such a shame we can’t have that game of cards.’

‘We will play another time,’ murmured Danuta with a soft smile as she placed a blanket beside Mrs Finch.

Peggy peeped out of the doorway in search of Polly as the distant drone of approaching aircraft came from over the Channel. ‘Where’s that girl got to?’

Polly emerged from the basement doorway, gingerly holding her hot plate of dinner with a tea towel. She scrambled down the stone steps and into the Anderson shelter and plumped down on the bench. ‘Whew,’ she breathed as she closed the door. ‘I thought I’d never make it.’

‘You have seen your husband?’ asked Danuta hesitantly. ‘He is making good progress, I hope?’

Polly shot her a weary smile. ‘He’s not very well at all,’ she admitted, ‘but he’s in the best place and being looked after extremely well.’ She stared down at the plate on her lap. ‘But his injuries mean he can’t be moved to the shelter during a raid, so I hope he’ll be all right.’