Under the Apple Tree (28 page)

in here just the same way, she said.’

‘Oh, I hope she’ll be all right. It’d be awful if she was

permanently deaf, a young girl like that.’ Polly lay back on

her pillows. She was white.and exhausted still and her voice

trembled as she went on, ‘She saved my life, you know, Cis.

I wouldn’t be here now if Judy hadn’t come in and dug me

out, and got those men and that young doctor to help. I’d

have died in there, in all that filth and dust and -‘ Her voice broke and she began to cry helplessly. ‘Oh Cis.’

‘Polly. Polly.’ Cis slipped her arms about her sister’s body

and held her like a baby. She always was my baby too, she

thought tenderly, remembering her delight when Alice had

told her she had a new sister. At twelve years old, Cissie had

been of an age to be of real help, cuddling Polly and helping

to wash and dress her - although she’d drawn the line at

changing nappies, she remembered with a smile. She

remembered too her pride as she’d pushed the pram up the

street, attracting envious attention from all her friends, and

her pleasure in watching the baby grow to a toddler and

then a little girl, always looking up to her sister, always

ready to be a companion.

Later, when Cissie had married, Polly was her bridesmaid,

and when Cissie’s own children had been born Polly

was more like a big sister than an aunt to them. She and

Judy had always been special friends, and had formed an

additional link between Polly and Cissie herself. The

thought that Judy had saved her aunt’s life brought a lump

to Cissie’s throat.

‘I’m sorry, Cis,’ Polly wept. ‘I can’t seem to stop crying.

I’m so ashamed - but the doctor says it’s natural, it’s shock.

But whenever I think of being buried like that - oh, I can’t

tell you what it was like, it was so horrible.’

‘There, there,’ Cissie said soothingly. ‘It’s all right, Polly.

You’re all right now. You have a good cry. The doctor’s

right, it’s a natural reaction. Anyone would cry after a thing

like that - anyone. You just let it all out and you’ll feel

better.’ She rocked her sister’s body in her arms and went

on murmuring to her, though her heart was heavy. Polly,

her bright, laughing sister, reduced to this sobbing wreck.

Her daughter Judy, frantic with the terror of being deaf.

Her husband Dick, only just over pneumonia, choking with

the dust of yet another bombing and reliving the nightmare

of his experiences in the First World War. What are we

coming to, she wondered, and what’s going to become of us

all before this is over?

‘I’ll have to go soon,’ she whispered as Polly’s sobs eased.

‘I want to pop in on Judy again, and I must be back at the

Royal in time to see Dick, and Mum doesn’t even know

where I am. By the way, you know you’ve got company in

here from April Grove, don’t you? I saw Peggy Shaw and

Gladys up the other end of the ward. They were at the

Royal when it got bombed last night. Peggy was thrown into

some rose bushes, and Gladys has got a broken arm.’ She

hesitated, then decided not to tell her sister that young

Graham Philpotts, the sailor who used to go out with Betty

Chapman and had been calling round for Gladys just lately,

had been killed. He’d been helping with the ambulance, so

Peggy had told her quietly when she stopped to have a word

with them and Gladys was blaming herself. But Polly didn’t

need to know that - not just yet.

This awful war, she thought, making her way slowly out

of the ward, sadly aware of the people around her - injured,

bereaved, homeless and bewildered. This awful war.

By the beginning of May, Dick, Judy and Polly were all

home again, each still somewhat shaken by their experiences.

To Cissie’s relief, Dick’s chest hadn’t been as badly

affected by the dust as they had feared, but his nerves were a

different matter. The violence of the raid and the close

proximity of the mine that had hit the hospital had brought

back all the old terrors, and his nights, and therefore Cissie’s too, were broken by nightmares. In fact, she told Alice

privately, that was one of the reasons they’d sent him home

from the hospital - his cries and screams were keeping other

patients awake. He was nervous and on edge during the day,

too, likely to flare up over the least little thing, and although Cissie did her best to remember that this was all part of his

illness, she couldn’t help getting upset sometimes,

‘Where’s my glasses gone?’ he demanded. ‘You’ve been

tidying up again, Cis - I can’t find nothing. You’ve hid

them deliberately.’

‘Dick, of course I haven’t! I wouldn’t do a thing like that.

I expect you’ve put them down somewhere and forgotten

them.’

‘Oh yes, it’s bound to be my fault, isn’t it! Everything that

happens in this house has got to be my fault. Neither use nor

ornament, that’s me. I dare say you got on a lot better when

I was in that hospital. Better send me back.’ He sat down,

staring angrily into space. Cissie took a deep breath and put

her arms around his shoulders.

‘Dick. Please don’t talk like that. You know it’s not true.

All I want is to have you at home and feeling well again.’ He

had covered his face with his hands and she tried to prise

them away. ‘Dick, look at me. Please. Let me give you a

kiss. Come on, now,’ she coaxed him, talking softly, stroking

his thin cheek with her fingers. ‘Come on. You know you

don’t mean those things. And look,’ she laughed suddenly,

‘there are your glasses - on top of your head! They’ve been

there all the time!’

For a moment, he looked even angrier and she was afraid

that she’d upset him even more by laughing at him. Then

the sense of humour that had always saved them came to the

rescue again and his lips pulled into a grin. He pulled her

close.

‘Sorry, Cis. I’m a twerp. I dunno how you put up with

me.’

‘Nor do I,’ she said, hugging him in relief. ‘But just you

thank your lucky stars I do, because I don’t think you’ll find

another woman at your age!’

‘Don’t you be too sure,’ he warned her, his temper over

as quickly as it had arisen. ‘That Ethel Glaister’s been

giving me some funny looks just lately!’ And they both

dissolved into laughter.

Polly too was plagued by nightmares. Half a dozen times

a night she woke, convinced she was buried under a pile of

bricks and rubble, and threw off her blankets, coughing and

choking in distress. As soon as she was awake, she realised

that it had been a dream, but it took several minutes to

regain control of her breathing, and she lay staring into the

darkness, almost afraid to go to sleep again.

Judy, who shared the small back bedroom, couldn’t help

her for she had still not regained her hearing. The few

sounds she could hear seemed to come to her through a

thick fog of distorted mush, and it was almost worse than

not being able to hear at all. The normal family chatter with

the wireless on in the background almost drove her

demented, and she couldn’t understand what anyone said unless they spoke very slowly and exaggerated their lip

movements so that she could try to read them.

Even that wasn’t very successful.

‘Time for tea,’ Cissie mouthed, and Judy stared at her

blankly.

‘By the sea? What’s by the sea?’

Sometimes she could see the funny side of it, and

laughed, but too often she became upset and angry. ‘I’m fed

up with this!’ she cried, beating her fists together. ‘I’m never going to be able to hear again, never - you don’t know how

awful it is! I’m going to be like this for the rest of my life, and it’s like being in prison. I’m caged in all the time - it’s horrible!’

The doorbell rang and Polly went to answer it. She came

back and said to Judy, ‘It’s someone for you. Chris Barrett,

from the Observers.’ Judy stared at her uncomprehendingly,

and she wrote it down on the little blackboard they’d found

in Sylvie’s toybox.

‘I don’t want to see him.’

‘But he’s come all this way specially.’

‘Then he can go back,’ Judy said abruptly. ‘I don’t want

to see him - I don’t want to see anyone, not while I’m like

this. What d’you think he’s going to say when he realises

what I’m like - deaf, half out of my mind? He’ll never come

again anyway, so there’s no point. Tell him to go away.’ Her

lips trembled and Polly gazed at her anxiously. Judy turned

her face aside, but not before the others had seen the tears

on her cheeks. ‘Tell him to just go away!’

‘Perhaps she’ll feel a bit more up to it in a week or two,’

Polly said gently to the disappointed young man. ‘She’s had

a terrible shock, and she’s really not feeling well.’

Chris shrugged. ‘All right, Mrs Dunn. Shall I come back,

then?’

Polly hesitated. She had no idea what the situation was

between him and her niece. ‘Better leave it perhaps,’ she

said, hoping she was doing the right thing. ‘I see you out at

the Beach, anyway. I can always let you know when she’s

feeling better.’

Shame, she thought, watching him walk off up the street.

He was a nice young man and it would have done Judy

good. But Judy didn’t seem interested in him. Her deafness

seemed to be taking over her life. Time and again she

dissolved into tears of frustration and despair, and Cissie

began to be seriously worried about her.

‘I think she’s going to have a nervous breakdown if

something can’t be done soon,’ she told Polly as they ate a

hasty breakfast of cornflakes. ‘She says it makes her feel so

useless. She can’t go to work because she can’t hear what

anyone says to her or use the phone or anything, and when

people talk to each other they leave her out, and that’s

hurtful. She feels as if she’s being treated as if she’s stupid.’

‘I know. And she seems to be shutting herself away from

everything. I mean, take that Chris Barrett - nice young

feller, he is, and he’s obviously a bit struck with our Judy. I was hoping they’d get together, but no. He’s asked after her

a few times, wanted to come round again and see her but she

won’t have it. Says nobody’d be interested in a deaf girl.

Says it’s no use him coming, she won’t even go to the door

to say hello. And it’s not just the deafness, you know,’ Polly

went on. ‘It’s Sean as well. She’s never grieved properly

oyer him, just pushed it away. You can’t do that. I should

know. I tried it myself when Johnny died, but you can’t put

it off for ever.’

‘I don’t know what we ought to do about her,’ Cissie said.

‘She needs to get away from all this bombing. Well, we all

do. Raids night after night - you know last Tuesday’s was

the fiftieth, don’t you? It was in the Evening News. I mean,

how are we supposed to stand it?’

‘We’re not,’ Polly said wryly. ‘But you’re right, Judy

needs some peace and quiet. I wonder if the people Sylvie’s

staying with could put her up for a few days?’

Cissie stared at her in surprise. ‘Surely not! They’ve got

those other two kiddies there too, haven’t they? I don’t

suppose they’ve got room.’

‘Well, she could sleep in with Sylvie. Or maybe that nice

vicar where I took the Simmons girls could take her, there

seemed to be plenty of rooms there. Honestly, Cis, it would

do her so much good to be out in the country for a few days,

and it’d be lovely there now it’s May. Look, I’ll talk to the

Mayoress. She’s really kind and helpful, and she might

know of somewhere.’ Polly glanced at the clock on the

mantelpiece. ‘Talking of the Mayoress, I’d better get a move

on or I shall be late. I’m going into the main Clothing Store

today, we’re moving some of the stock to a church hall near

Elm Grove. Apparently the Queen wrote to the Mayoress after they came here that time and said we ought to have a few more stores in case the main one got bombed. The

Mayoress was already seeing to it, of course, but it just

shows the Queen really thinks about these things, doesn’t

it?’

She gathered up her jacket, bag and gas mask, and

hurried out, still limping a little. As soon as she had gone,

Judy came down the stairs and Cissie heard her take the lid

off the teapot to see if there was any tea left. She put her

head round the scullery door.

‘Has Polly gone to work?’ She had accepted the fact that

her voice could be heard by others, although she didn’t seem

able to get the level right and either whispered or shouted. It was one of the reasons why others found her so hard to talk

to, Cissie thought, and felt a fresh wave of sympathy.

‘Yes, she’s going to the Clothing Store.’ She bit her lip,

aware that she’d spoken too quickly and without turning her

face to Judy’s. She tried again, mouthing the words with

some exaggeration. ‘Clothing - Store.’

Judy flushed and Cissie knew that the exaggeration itself

had upset her. She left the room quickly and then returned