Silver Linings (24 page)

‘Anderson,’ the nurse began, ‘as soon as you’ve finished Mr Henderson’s dressing, go into the main dressing area, where there are children who require their minor injuries dressed. Poor children were just playing innocently in the street when they were hit by falling masonry. What I am told is that a building in East Cromwell Street became unsafe and dislodged stones and rubble tumbled down indiscriminately.’ The senior nurse bit on her lip before spitting, ‘Fire brigade say they were not surprised as the condemned tenement probably got further damaged in the last air raid. This war! When will it ever end? Lives blighted, casualties everywhere, and not only on the battlefields.’

Still feeling that she should go and check the lists and ensure most importantly that her younger brother, whom she had cared for since their mother had died, was safe and also her father … Her face flushed, and she admitted that he was still her father, and whatever else, he always would be. This being the case she gladly conceded that the time she had spent with Connie today had taught her that family is more important than holding unjustifiable grievances.

On arrival at the treatment area, Kitty found there were three other nurses who were working there. Before they knew it, two hours quickly went by as they expertly dressed all the minor wounds.

When the last little girl, who had a deep gash on her forehead, was dressed, the four nurses visibly flopped. For all four it had been a learning experience as this had been their first experience of being involved when major incidents had occurred.

Rolling up the unused part of a bandage, Jane Thompson said, ‘Well at least, girls, all of our patients are away home to sleep soundly in their own beds tonight – that is providing we don’t get an air raid.’

‘And have you any news on the major casualties?’ Kitty tentatively asked, but in reality she did not wish to know.

‘One from the shipyards is dead, two are unconscious and may …’ Jane shrugged. ‘And one is very lucky in that he has only had his left arm amputated from below the elbow. There is also a young eight-year-old lad from East Cromwell Street who has unfortunately lost his leg. On the bright side, two women, who were leaning out of their windows having a good blether, were so traumatised that one of them, Jessie Logan, the street gossip, who was hit a glancing blow, has said she’ll never speak again.’

‘Want to put a bet on that, Kitty?’ teased Helen Judge.

Kitty just shook her head and her colleagues were surprised when, without uttering another word, she left the station and proceeded towards Sister’s office.

She only had to knock on the door once before she heard the Sister bid her enter.

Looking up from the reports she was checking Sister said, ‘You have a problem, Anderson?’

‘Yes, Sister, my brother David and my father John Anderson may have been involved in the accident at the shipyards and I wonder if you could look at the casualty lists to see if they were admitted.’

‘Mmmmm,’ replied Sister before scanning the reports in front of her again. ‘Your brother was admitted because he had been fished out of the water and we had to make sure that he had not suffered any trauma from that incident.’ Sister now drummed her fingers on her desks. ‘As to your father, well … we have admitted and operated on a John Anderson but whether or not he is your father I do not know. What I do know is that Mr Lawson – who, as you are aware is a brilliant surgeon – did manage to save the man’s life although unfortunately he could not save his left arm.’

Without being given leave to sit down, Kitty sank on to the chair in front of the desk. ‘His left arm’s been amputated. But … he requires two hands to do his job.’

Sister gave a little cough. ‘Anderson, before you get yourself upset, would it not make more sense to check at the Men’s Surgical ward?’ she suggested with a hint of impatience. ‘What I am saying is that I think that you should make sure that the gentleman who is recovering there is indeed your father.’

Giving Sister an obedient nod, Kitty stood up and then scurried away.

Even although it was June and daylight, and warmth extended well into the night, when Kitty arrived at the Men’s Surgical ward she shivered.

Peering into the evening gloom she allowed her eyes to dance around the ward. Immediately she noted that there were two beds where the patients were being constantly monitored. Advancing up the ward towards these beds she felt a feeling of dread overcoming her. This alarm was added to as she noted that at the nearest bed her brother Davy was sitting.

‘Davy,’ she whispered, ‘how is he?’

Before he responded Davy immediately stood up. He then pulled Kitty into a strong embrace. So strong was his hug that she actually felt unable to breathe properly. She was just about to plead for him to let her go when she felt his whole body convulse and collapse into her. ‘Steady, lad,’ she implored whilst guiding him back down on to a chair. ‘Now has Dad said anything?’

Davy panted as he tried to hold back his tears. ‘No. And in his delirium he was asking for Connie. I know the police went to tell her but the callous bitch has never shown up. And where’s Granny? She’s usually in the middle of everything.’

‘Davy, Davy,’ Kitty scolded, ‘Connie wouldn’t be able to come. When I left her this afternoon she was just about to give birth.’ Kitty’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh dear, I want to stay here with Dad but I also know that I should be going to see Connie and tell her how he is and … is it true, that he has lost his left arm?’

Davy confirmed with a nod. ‘Aye, from just below the elbow.’

‘Why?’ Kitty stupidly blurted.

‘He was so busy saving everybody else that when the lorry collided with him his arm was crushed beneath a wheel. Losing his arm, Kitty, will be …’

‘You don’t have to say it. I know he will be unable to cope with the fact that he will not be able to work and therefore provide for his family.’

Like a spectre the Senior Nurse had now silently floated up the ward to check on Johnny. ‘Do you think he’ll regain consciousness soon, Porter?’ Kitty heard herself ask.

‘No. Sleep is a good healer so it is best to leave him to come to naturally.’ The nurse then looked at her watch as she began to check Johnny’s pulse.

The Assistant Matron listened intently to Kitty’s plea that she be given a late pass so that she could go and check on her stepmother. To Kitty’s astonishment she was issued immediately with the necessary document.

Davy, who had waited expectantly at the hospital exit for her, was relieved when a perplexed Kitty joined him to hastily make their way to their dad’s home in Restalrig Road.

If Davy had wondered where his grandmother Jenny was, as soon as he entered the living room of his father’s house he found out. There, kneeling by Connie, who was huddled up in the easy chair, was Jenny. ‘See there, Connie, I told you that either Davy or Kitty would come and tell us how things are with our Johnny.’

Kitty immediately went over and knelt down beside Connie. ‘How are you and of course the baby?’

‘Oh, doing well now,’ Jenny chanted before Connie could respond. ‘And the wee – well not so wee – real bruiser, who weighed in at eight and a half pounds, Jackie, is just what we need right now.’

‘So you’ve called him after our Jack. Connie, that was thoughtful of you.’

Connie just nodded and again Jenny butted in. ‘Not so much of the “him”, Kitty, it’s a “her”.’

‘A girl called Jackie?’ Kitty tittered.

‘Aye, Jackie – short for Jacqueline but the wee lamb is still called after Jack,’ Jenny announced before Connie could get a word in edgeways.

Before anyone else could put in their tuppence worth there was a lull in the conversation. This pause allowed Connie to shout, ‘Look, everyone, I know you are all delighted about the baby but could someone please, please tell me about Johnny? I am beside myself with worry and that midwife …’

‘Joan Fowler?’

‘Aye, she says I won’t be fit to visit my Johnny for another week. That woman is something else, so she is.’

‘Well she delivered your baby safely.’

‘Aye, she did that, Kitty. Then, because the ambulances were all busy, she asked the Leith Provident bread van if he would give me a lift up the road. You know, I still can’t believe that she pushed me and my newborn baby into that van.’ She snorted before adding, ‘Found myself surrounded by six plain loaves, four high pans and a dozen rolls, so I did.’

For the first time that day Kitty laughed. How like Joan Fowler.
That lady
, she thought,
wouldn’t care what she had to do to get Connie a lift home as long as she did
. And what was so terribly wrong to be arriving safely home along with the bread delivery?

Kitty now had to answer Connie’s questions about Johnny. ‘Well, Connie,’ she began. ‘Two men did not survive the accident, but thank goodness Dad did.’ Kitty gulped before she added, ‘Unfortunately he has had his left arm, and I stress left arm, amputated just below the elbow.’

The anguished cries of Connie and Jenny that reverberated around the room pierced into Kitty’s head. She truly wished at that moment in time that she was somewhere else – anywhere at all but standing in her father’s house witnessing the anguish of Connie and her grandmother.

‘How is he taking it?’ Connie asked through her sobs.

‘Right now he’s asleep and I don’t think he’s aware of what has happened. Tomorrow morning will be … well it will be … so … very difficult for him.’

‘Aye, it will be that,’ Jenny sniffed, ‘because like his father before him he is a diligent, hard-working bread earner and I suppose now he will not be able …’

‘To carry on as a plater in the shipyards,’ Davy muttered.

‘Will he?’

‘No, Granny, that skill requires two hands.’

There was a long, drawn-out silence before Connie said, ‘No matter. We will manage because when Jackie is off the breast I’ll go back out to work.’

‘Connie,’ Kitty replied, ‘I know that you will but a woman cannot earn as much as a man even if she is doing the same job. I wish I could help but since I started my training I’m dependent on Aunty Kate’s generosity to keep myself afloat. But you know …’ A protesting wail erupted from the cradle reminding everyone that a precious child had arrived today and Kitty then walked over and she lifted the baby up into her arms.

Looking down on to the plump little face she knew that even if her father was no longer able to work and provide for his family, that family was still truly blessed. Pressing her fingers on the child’s mouth she silently vowed there and then that when she was able to do so, the lovely baby Jackie, and of course vivacious Rosebud, would be provided for.

The baby squawked again and Connie held out her hands to take her and feed her.

At five o’clock in the morning the ward lights were switched on and the night staff started to prepare the patients for the day ahead.

All night Johnny Anderson had hovered between consciousness and merciful oblivion. He tried to stretch the fingers of his left hand in an attempt to ease the agonising pain in them. These nerve-ending pains that he had never experienced in his life before were excruciating, so much so that they shot up his arm and screwed their vice-like grip into his very neck and shoulder.

Lifting his right hand he reached it over to stroke his left arm and when he could only feel a bandaged stump he cried out in terror.

On hearing Johnny’s plaintive cries the Staff Nurse rushed up the ward. ‘Are you in pain, Mr Anderson?’ she asked.

Johnny, eyes bulging, body trembling, was now sitting bolt upright in the bed. ‘Where am I? Where is my hand? What has happened to it?’ He repeated this over and over again to himself.

Drawing the screens around Johnny, the nurse then sat on the edge of his bed and, taking his right hand into hers, she quietly told him all he needed and wished to know. When she had finished he slumped back against the pillows. Utter despair engulfed him and he wished to cry out in protest.
Why,
he screamed inwardly,
has this awful thing happened to me?
The horrific realisation of what it meant to his life was even too great for tears to assuage. The infliction of a deep, black depression descended on his soul because he truly believed that he had now been rendered utterly useless.

On arrival back at the nurses’ home a completely exhausted Kitty threw herself down on her bed. She should have fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow but the memories of the day’s events kept bouncing around in her mind.

By two o’clock, when she had been sure that sleep would evade her all night, she remembered that Connie had begged her to find some way of getting her and Jackie down to visit Johnny. Kitty had, of course, agreed that she would, but now in the stillness of the night she had wondered how she could do that.

The Home Sister clanging the bell to awaken the nurses who were due on early-morning duty also awoke a deeply slumbering Kitty. Squinting at the clock she noted to her surprise that it was now seven o’clock.

Even although she was not on duty until lunchtime she immediately jumped out of bed and started to get dressed.

Half an hour later she was seen at the porter’s cubicle in earnest conversation with Michael Malone, the very helpful and obliging hospital porter, and he was pointing to the side wall where the wheelchairs were kept.

Five minutes later Kitty was seen running along Great Junction Street pushing an empty wheelchair. Two hours later at a considerable reduced rate of progress she was back on the street but the chair was no longer empty. Swathed in a blanket and holding tightly on to her baby sat a very apprehensive Connie.

Kitty was about to push the chair towards the Men’s Surgical ward when Michael said, ‘Anderson, will I find someone to mind the baby for you while you visit your dad?’

Kitty hesitated. It was true that children were not allowed to visit the wards, but … Connie had just turned her head around to look directly at Kitty and without a word being spoken she managed to convey to Kitty that rules may be rules and regulations may be regulations, but there were times that they should not be adhered to and this was one of them.