Pack Up Your Troubles (23 page)

Kenneth squeezed her hand. ‘You have no idea what that means to me,’ he said. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘Let me tell Mum …’

‘No,’ said Kenneth, his eyes blazing once more. ‘If she comes here, I shall make them send her away.’

Connie sighed. ‘I’ll come and see you when I can,’ she said, pushing her hospital address into his hand. ‘I’ll write but I can’t come every week. Mum expects me to go home on my days off.’

Kenneth nodded. ‘But you will come?’

‘Just try and stop me,’ she smiled.

Roger took her to a small café in the town. They were the only customers and as they walked in the radio was playing ‘You Are My Sunshine’. Connie was emotionally exhausted and was glad of a few minutes in which to gather her thoughts and relax.

‘My little sister’s favourite tune,’ she smiled at Roger.

‘I like that one too,’ he said. In truth he didn’t know what to say.

The waitress, a rather bored looking girl with plain straight hair and buck teeth, took their order. Connie stared out of the window. She was glad of Roger’s company but she wished she was with someone she could talk to. He was kind and considerate but she didn’t know Roger well enough to offload her family secrets. He reached for her hand on the table and gave it a squeeze.

‘This has been one hell of a day for you,’ he ventured.

Connie nodded. ‘Thank you for coming. It made it a lot easier having someone with me.’

‘My pleasure,’ he smiled.

‘I never got around to telling you that Eva has been unwell.’

She told him about his sister’s illness and meeting his family for the first time. ‘Your grandmother and my great aunt used to be friends.’

‘Apparently,’ he agreed. ‘I think Gran always wanted to patch it up but Olive and Agatha wouldn’t wear it. They never forgave her for marrying my grandfather.’

Connie was curious about the man loved by two women. ‘What was he like?’

Roger smiled. ‘Just about the best grandfather a chap could have.’ By the time their pie and mash meal arrived he had waded into childhood memories ranging from catching tiddlers in the local pond to ferreting for rabbits and bareback riding on the downs, all done with a dearly loved grandparent.

‘I greatly admired him because he never let his war wound hold him back,’ said Roger.

‘Oh yes, his war wound,’ said Connie faintly.

‘He only had one leg and he’d lost the sight in his right eye,’ said Roger. ‘They were a tough lot back then. Once they set their minds on something, they’d go for it.’

‘What did your grandfather do for a living?’

‘He carried on with the family tradition,’ said Roger. ‘He was a stonemason.’

Roger looked thoughtful as he played with his spoon on the table. ‘Connie, who was Stan Saul?’

‘I don’t want to talk about him,’ Connie said quickly.

Roger nodded. ‘Well, if ever you do …’ he began.

‘I won’t,’ said Connie firmly.

After their meal, Roger took her to the station and they said their goodbyes. When he kissed her, it was as soft as a butterfly’s wing brushing her lips and something within her was aroused. Connie closed her eyes waiting for the next kiss but it never came. He had left her wanting more.

‘Even though it was a difficult day for you, Connie,’ he smiled, ‘I’ve enjoyed being with you.’

‘And I with you,’ she said shyly. ‘Thank you for being there.’

‘Take care,’ he said kissing her on the cheek. ‘I’ll write.’

She leaned out of the carriage window until the train moved off. He waved and then he was gone. She liked Roger. He was a kind man.

Eighteen

Eva was dying to hear all about it. She was fully recovered from her bout of flu and as soon as she’d checked back into the nurses’ home, she came looking for Connie who was in the laundry washing her smalls. Connie dried her hands and the two friends embraced warmly.

‘Are you sure you’re well enough to come back?’ Connie asked anxiously.

‘There’s only so much soup and chocolate cake a girl can have,’ she laughed. ‘It was lovely to be home, but Mum drove me nuts with her fussing. Your friend Jane Jackson came with an orange. Did you tell her I was ill?’

Connie nodded and turned her attention back to the sink.

‘She tells me she’s met someone. He goes to her church and she says he’s lovely.’

‘I’m glad,’ said Connie. ‘She deserves someone nice. Did she say anything about Sally Burndell?’

‘Only that she’s staying with her aunt for a bit longer,’ said Eva, making herself comfortable on the laundry table. ‘She found out that her boyfriend has left the army but he’s never got in touch. She thinks he had some poison pen letters.’

‘Yes, I heard that too,’ said Connie. ‘I ask you, who would do a thing like that?’

‘There are some really sick people out there, Connie,’ said Eva. ‘Now, tell me about your brother.’

Connie was glad of someone to talk to about Kenneth. Roger had wanted to know all about him but she was reluctant to say too much. She had written to Kenneth a couple of times since she’d got back and she was due to go home to Belvedere Nurseries on her next day off. ‘I’ve never been good at keeping secrets,’ she told Eva, ‘and he flatly refuses to let me tell Mum he’s alive and well.’

‘Why doesn’t he want her to see him?’ Eva asked.

As Connie wrung her things out and put them on the draining board she explained about the walking stalk skin flap and Kenneth’s ongoing rhinoplasty. ‘To be honest,’ she said, ‘it makes him look as if he has an elephant’s trunk and he hates the idea of Mum seeing him like that.’

‘Perfectly understandable,’ said Eva.

Of course it was. How silly of her not to realise. Connie hadn’t really thought about it from Kenneth’s point of view. Her whole focus had been on how difficult it would be keeping the secret. Yes, Kenneth was right. It would be much better to wait for a while and then see Mum when he had some semblance of a normal face. ‘He must be an amazing man to work for,’ Connie observed.

‘Who, Kenneth?’

‘No, Mr McIndoe,’ said Connie plunging everything back into the rinsing water. ‘In the way he’s pioneered the way people with terrible burns are treated. They say he even got the Ministry of Aircraft Production down there to see what damage their aircraft can do to the men trapped inside.’

‘Whatever for?’

‘He was trying to get them to build safer aircraft.’

‘I can’t say I would have even thought of that,’ Eva nodded. ‘I wish I’d brought my ironing down while we talked.’

‘How is Steven?’ Connie was surprised that Eva hadn’t yet mentioned the love of her life.

Eva grinned and looked a little coy. ‘He’s lovely. Oh Connie, he’s such a wonderful man. I never thought I would say this about anyone after Dermid but I love him so much.’

‘I know you do,’ Connie laughed. She tipped the rinsing water away and took her things to the mangle. ‘It’s in your eyes.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Eva. ‘Does it really show? It’s so important to keep it a secret. You know going out with the junior doctors is strictly off limits. Sister Hayes would go loopy if she found out.’

Connie squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘Your secret is safe with all of us,’ she said. ‘You two were made for each other so just enjoy it.’

Eva mouthed a silent thank you. ‘I’ve made arrangements to go and see Queenie. I hope she won’t be too upset.’

‘She’ll be fine,’ said Connie and her friend nodded.

‘Your brother was so kind,’ Connie said and Eva listened starry eyed as she told her of Roger’s gentleness when she had collapsed. ‘He took me for a meal afterwards. I’m afraid I wasn’t up to much by the end of the evening but he had me laughing.’

‘He’s like that,’ Eva smiled. ‘Could there be …?’

‘Eva, don’t,’ Connie interrupted. ‘What with training and worrying about Kenneth …’ She hung everything on the overhead pulley. She didn’t say so, but with all this Stan business being raked up, Connie was in two minds about everything. She didn’t tell Eva that Roger had already written to her. It was a chatty letter, telling her that he was going up to Yorkshire for a refresher course for a few days and asking her to write. ‘
It gets a bit lonely for a chap in a strange place,’
he’d written, ‘
so it would be nice to have the odd letter from a friend.’
She hadn’t replied but it sounded as if he was keen on her. ‘I don’t even want to think about romance right now …’

Eva put her hands up in mock surrender. ‘All right, all right, keep your hair on,’ she laughed.

While Connie cleared up, Eva told her about her illness. ‘My granny had me inhaling Friar’s Balsam and Mum kept me in bed for ages …’ But by now, Connie was only half listening. She was thinking about her nightmare journey home from East Grinstead. She’d been totally exhausted, both physically and mentally drained and yet every time she’d tried to relax, that awful face would push its way into her thoughts. She hadn’t really thought about Stan Saul for years but ever since Kenneth said his name, she could almost smell his sweaty body above her and feel his breath on her cheeks.

Eva jumped down from the table. ‘Connie, you’re miles away. Something is wrong.’

‘Umm? Oh, sorry,’ said Connie. ‘Go on. I am listening.’

‘No,’ said Eva. ‘I can tell by your face that you’ve got something on your mind. Come on, out with it.’

‘I was thinking about something that happened when I was thirteen,’ she began, ‘and it’s not a pretty story.’

‘Go on,’ said Eva uncertainly.

‘It’s the reason my brother left home.’

Eva sat back on the table and gave Connie her full attention. ‘I’m listening.’

‘I was with my brother at a place called Long Furlong near Patching where we used to live and we’d met up with another lad called Stan Saul,’ she said leaning against the wall. ‘Kenneth and I had been out on our bikes all day with a few other boys and girls from the village. We’d taken a primus stove and cooked some sausages in the frying pan.’

Eva smiled. ‘Nothing like cooking out of doors. Go on.’

‘Kenneth is two years older than me but Stan was already grown-up. He was seventeen and nobody could understand why he hung around with us kids all the time.’

‘Does sound a bit odd,’ Eva agreed.

‘Anyway, he’d brought some bread and he had some sweets which of course made him everybody’s mate that day,’ Connie went on. ‘It was a lot more fun having a slice of bread to wrap around a boiling hot sausage, although it did pose a bit of a problem having to cut the slices with only Curly Bishop’s penknife.’ She laughed briefly.

Eva listened as she recalled what happened. She told Eva that she wasn’t very happy when Stan had invited himself back to their place afterwards and was even more anxious when she’d realised that no one else was at home. Mum and Ga were out but she’d consoled herself that Pip, although still only a pup, was there to protect them.

‘That’s when Stan produced the cider.’

‘Cider?’ Eva remarked.

‘It was very strong and the bubbles gave me hiccups. Stan told me to “Drink up,” and he kept tipping the glass back every time I put it to my lips.’ Connie put her trembling hand to her forehead as she remembered. The gathering gloom outside gave the window a mirror effect and she studied herself in the glass. The jumble in her mind was clearing and she shuddered as she remembered Stan running his tongue over his dirty teeth.

‘Connie?’ Eva jumped down and put her hand on Connie’s shoulder. ‘Did something awful happen?’

Connie thought of Roger again. He was a nice man but if Eva told him about Stan, would he want to write to her again? As she felt her eyes smarting, Connie pulled herself together crossly. The past was the past. She couldn’t alter it and the only way it could hurt her was if she dwelt on it. Stan was out of her life forever and the chances of ever seeing him again were remote. They’d just come through a war for heaven’s sake. There was a fair chance that Stan Saul had perished on the battlefield anyway. She picked up her empty laundry basket. ‘Nah,’ she said brightly. ‘A silly memory of a rubbish first kiss, that’s all.’

*

His mother wouldn’t like it but he’d have to tell her. No point in beating about the bush. He’d come right out with it. Best way.

‘I’m changing my name, Mum.’

She almost dropped a stitch. ‘Change your name. Whatever for?’

‘I told you, didn’t I? I want a new start. As soon as people hear my name, they remember what happened to my wife and they’ve already made up their minds, haven’t they?’

She had no answer to that.

‘I’m going to use my second name instead,’ he went on. ‘It might bring me better luck.’

‘Oh, son,’ she said cautiously. ‘I’m not so sure it’s a good idea. People are bound to think you’ve got something to hide.’

She saw something flicker in his eyes and his mouth took on a sinister sneer. ‘I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mum,’ he said coldly. ‘I told you what I’m going to do, so you’d better get used to it.’

As he left the room, he slammed the door so hard the cups rattled on the sideboard. She could feel the panic rising inside her chest. It was starting all over again, wasn’t it? He hadn’t changed at all.

*

Matron was doing her ward rounds and Sister had asked Connie to clean Room 1 in preparation for an incoming patient. She had spent the morning wiping the locker, the iron bedstead and the mattress with disinfectant. She’d checked the curtains on the screen and changed one of them because it had a splash of some sort on it. She’d cleaned the thermometer holder on the wall and changed the mouthwash solution. When she had finished, Sister deemed it a job well done.

As Matron sailed onto the ward, Connie was just taking a bedpan to Mrs Meyer in bed four. She whipped the curtains round and hidden from view, she dealt with her patient. Mrs Meyer was lovely. She’d come in for an operation on her stomach but when the surgeons had opened her up, they’d found out that there was nothing more they could do. They’d stitched her back up again and when she came around, told her the bad news. Mrs Meyer knew she didn’t have long to live but it never seemed to dampen her spirit.