The Girls in Blue (32 page)

Miranda was relieved to see that her grandparents appeared to have recovered sufficiently to enjoy the party after their encounter with Max, and Jack and Izzie were oblivious to everything other than their own happiness. Miranda circulated amongst the guests, making sure that everyone had a drink and that no one was left out. Rita was chatting to Mrs Beasley and Annie, while Raif did his best to entertain Ivy and Dolly.

No one seemed to mind that the wedding breakfast consisted of Spam sandwiches, slightly burnt jam tarts and rock cakes that were a dental hazard, or that the wedding cake was a simple sponge filled with the last of the homemade strawberry jam. Everyone seemed to have recovered from the unfortunate scene with Max, and the crate of champagne that George had managed to procure had helped to put everyone in a happy mood.

When the last toast was drunk and the speeches had been made, Miranda slipped away from the party and went to retrieve her handbag from the
kitchen
. She had put worries about Gil to the back of her mind during the day, but now that the stress of the wedding was over she had time to think. She knew that she would not sleep a wink that night if she left it another day. She took out her diary and flipped through the pages to where she had made a note of the Madderns’ telephone number. She left the comparative warmth of the drawing room to perch on the elephant table in the cold hallway and pick up the receiver. She dialled and waited, hoping against hope that it would be Fliss on the other end of the line. The ringing tone went on and on and she was just beginning to think that there was no one at home when someone answered the call.

Chapter Eighteen

‘HELLO.’ THE SOFT
female voice sounded wary.

‘Felicity, it’s Miranda Beddoes. Please don’t hang up.’

There was a brief pause. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not supposed to talk to you.’

‘I understand how your mother feels but I thought that you and I were friends.’

‘It’s not as simple as that. I do like you, Miranda, but I can’t go against Mummy’s wishes.’

‘I’m not asking you to do anything wrong. I just want to know how Gil is getting on. Surely that’s not too much to ask?’

‘Mummy phoned the hospital in Yarmouth this morning and they said that Gil was comfortable, whatever that means.’

‘But he’s no worse.’ Miranda uttered a long drawn out sigh of sheer relief. ‘I’ve been so worried about him.’

‘The doctors said something about transferring him to the Royal Victoria near here, but not yet. I really can’t tell you any more, Miranda.’

‘My leave is up in two days and I’ll be returning to Henlow. Would it be asking too much for you to
drop
me a line to let me know how he’s getting on?’

‘I can’t talk now. Please don’t phone again.’ The line went dead.

Miranda sat for a long moment after she had replaced the telephone on the elephant table. She did not blame Felicity or her mother for their attitude towards her, but she could not abandon Gil without a word, especially when his whole future hung in the balance. At the very least he had been a friend, and she could not bear to think of him lying in a hospital bed thinking that she did not care if he lived or died. She walked slowly to the drawing room, where the furniture had been moved and the carpet folded back so that couples could dance. A Joe Loss record was playing on the gramophone, and to Miranda’s surprise Raif was partnering Rita. Although they were not dancing cheek to cheek he was holding her rather closer than was strictly necessary and Rita was smiling up at him. Jack and Izzie were in each other’s arms, moving dreamily to ‘Crying My Heart Out for You’. In complete contrast Dolly and Ivy were attempting to waltz although they could not seem to decide who was leading. Looking on with some amusement, Annie and Mrs Beasley sat side by side on the sofa, sipping port and lemon, while Elzevir was still on the veranda, huddled on a steamer chair with a bottle of stout clutched in his hand.

Miranda waited until the music ended and her grandparents came towards her, hand in hand like
a
young married couple. She felt almost envious of their obvious devotion to one another, and she could not help wondering if she would ever experience something as lasting and wonderful. If Max Carstairs could see them now and feel the warmth and affection that filled the room, he would see how wrong he had been. She met them with outstretched arms and gave them a hug. ‘I love you both,’ she said, swallowing hard as her eyes misted with tears.

‘Now, now,’ Maggie said briskly. ‘Don’t get maudlin, my girl.’

Miranda drew away with an affectionate smile. ‘I’m not, Granny. I just wanted to say thank you for everything, and I’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning.’

‘I thought you had another two days.’

‘I have, but I’m going to Great Yarmouth before I go back to the priory. I need to see Gil no matter what his mother thinks or says.’

Miranda had lied to the sister on duty, telling her that she was Gil’s fiancée, as only close family members were allowed to visit. It was a white lie, she told herself as she entered the side ward where Gil lay with both his legs in traction and one arm in plaster. She had not known what to expect but she was surprised to find him fully conscious and staring up at the ceiling. He raised his head a little as he heard her footsteps on the bare linoleum and a slow smile spread across his face. ‘Miranda.’

She hurried to his bedside and drew up a chair. ‘How are you?’ She pulled a face. ‘I’m sorry, that’s a silly question.’

He grinned. ‘I know I look like an Egyptian mummy, but to be honest I don’t feel much at all. They pump me full of morphine if the pain gets too bad. You might be a drug induced delusion for all I know.’

She took his good hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘I’m no illusion, Gil. I came as quickly as I could.’

‘How did you get past Sister Cerberus?’

‘Wasn’t Cerberus the dog that guarded the gates of Hades?’

‘I rest my case. But seriously, how did you get in? I was on the main ward for a while and I heard the chaps complaining because she was so strict about visitors.’

‘I said I was your fiancée. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘I’m flattered. But even if it were true I wouldn’t hold you to it now.’

She was silent for a moment, feeling his inner pain as if it were her own. ‘That’s definitely the morphine talking,’ she said briskly. ‘You just need time for the injuries to heal and you’ll be the old Mad Dog. You’ll be back in your Spit, doing what you do best.’

He looked away. ‘I might be paralysed from the waist down. It could be permanent and I’d spend the rest of my life a cripple.’

‘You don’t know that, Gil.’

‘I overheard the nurses talking and I’m not a fool. I might be flying high on drugs but it doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s happening to me.’ He tightened his grasp on her hand. ‘But thanks for coming, Miranda. It’s meant a lot to me.’

‘That sounds like goodbye.’

‘It has to be. I don’t need your pity.’

Anger and frustration bubbled up inside her and she drew her hand away. ‘Stop wallowing, Gil. I’m sorry you were injured but I’m here because you mean a lot to me. I care very much what happens to you.’

He raised his eyes to her face. ‘Do you?’

‘Of course I do.’ She dropped her gaze, staring down at their entwined fingers. ‘But I broke my word to come here today. Your mother loves you very much, and I understand why she did it, but she made me promise that I wouldn’t try to see you or contact you in any way.’

‘Why in hell’s name would she do that?’

‘She was just trying to protect you.’

‘She told me that you’d been to The Gables, but that was all.’ Gil closed his eyes. ‘Sorry, I’m starting to drift off again.’

‘I’ve booked into a guest house near the hospital and I’ll come again this evening, if they let me.’ She was not sure if he had heard her, but she leaned over and kissed his cheek before rising from her seat. She stood for a moment, gazing down at him. He looked very young and vulnerable and her heart
went
out to him, but she was painfully aware how easy it would be to mistake pity for a stronger emotion. She was about to leave when the door opened and a young nurse bustled in carrying a kidney basin covered with a spotless white cloth.

‘I was just going to ask you to leave, miss. It’s time for Flight Lieutenant Maddern’s medication.’

‘I’ll come again this evening,’ Miranda said firmly. ‘Is there a set visiting time?’

‘His mother asked me the same thing on the phone just now. She’ll be coming too. It’ll be a nice family reunion, but Sister says you can’t stay long and only one visitor at a time.’

Miranda went back to the boarding house and sat in her room for an hour, wondering whether she ought to face Mrs Maddern and admit that she had broken her promise, or whether to stay away and risk upsetting Gil. She could not help thinking that perhaps his mother had been right, and that she had done him more harm than good by indulging her need to see him and clear her conscience. She was even more confused as to her feelings for Gil, and she realised that she had handled a difficult situation badly.

In the end she could not bear to be shut up in the dreary little room for a moment longer. The cracked pink linoleum with the sickly flower pattern and the mismatched furniture that had seen better days were beginning to get on her nerves. The flock-filled mattress on the bed promised a sleepless night to
come
and she needed to get out into the fresh air. She put on her cap, picked up her handbag and gas mask case and left the room, descending three flights of stairs to the ground floor where she was greeted by the noxious smell of boiled cabbage and Jeyes Fluid.

After walking to the sea front and filling her lungs with the bracing east coast air, she found a small café and enjoyed a meal of fish and chips, washed down with several cups of strong, sweet tea. Feeling better but unable to face going back to the guest house, she went to the cinema and watched
That Hamilton Woman
with Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier. The story of the doomed love affair between Nelson and Lady Hamilton was tragic, but Miranda was finding it difficult to concentrate as her thoughts kept returning to Gil lying helpless in his hospital bed. She knew that Mrs Maddern would find out about her visit and she could not blame her if she was angry, but Gil’s mother ought to understand that they both had his best interests at heart. She rose from her seat before the film ended and hurried from the cinema.

Dusk was swallowing up the town and soon it would be too dark to see where she was going in the unfamiliar streets. Having made enquiries in a tobacconist’s shop she found the nearest bus stop and after a short wait caught a bus to the hospital. She had no intention of going in and challenging Gil’s mother at his bedside, but she hoped to catch
her
as she left when visiting time ended. It was dark now, but the moon shone from a cloudless sky giving just enough light to see the world in monochrome, like a black and white film. It was bitterly cold and already frost was glittering on the paving stones. After the relatively mild climate on the south coast Miranda was feeling the change in temperature and wishing she had worn her overcoat. She paced up and down for half an hour and was beginning to think she had missed her when she spotted Mrs Maddern amongst a group of visitors who had emerged from the hospital.

Miranda hurried up to her. ‘I know I broke my promise, but I couldn’t allow Gil to think I’d deserted him.’

‘Were you thinking of yourself or of him, Miss Beddoes?’

‘He told you that I’d been to see him?’

‘Yes. He was delighted. I hope that salves your conscience. Now you can go away and get on with your life knowing that you’ve given my son false hope. He really believes that you’ll stand by him.’

Daphne Maddern’s bitter tone etched into Miranda’s consciousness like acid. She was hurt but also very angry. ‘That’s not fair. I can’t be at his bedside as much as I’d wish because I have to return to Henlow in the morning, but I’ll write to him every day, and I’ll visit him as soon as I can.’

‘That’s all very fine and I’m sure you will, but we’ve had this conversation before. I think you have
the
best of intentions but what happens if you meet someone else? How will you tell my son that you won’t be seeing him any more?’

‘Stop it,’ Miranda cried angrily. ‘We can only take things one day at a time. All I can say is that I care deeply for Gil. I can’t foretell the future and neither can you. If he wants me to keep in touch then I don’t care what you or anyone else says, but I won’t let him down now or ever.’

‘Fine words indeed, but I’ve had considerably more experience of life than you have, and I’ve told the hospital staff that you aren’t allowed to see him again.’ Daphne raised her hand to attract the attention of a cab driver who had pulled up at the kerb. She turned her head as she was about to climb inside. ‘I’ll be here for another two days, arranging transport to take my son back to Hampshire, so don’t even think of trying to see Gil or contacting him in any way. I’ll make your excuses to him.’ She took her seat and slammed the door. The taxi drove off, disappearing into the darkness.

Miranda started walking towards the bus stop but the sound of the air raid siren sent people scurrying towards a public shelter and she found herself caught up in their midst. She spent the next few hours wedged between an elderly man with a bronchitic cough and a fat woman who had just been visiting her sick husband in the hospital. By the time the all clear sounded Miranda had been subjected to the woman’s life history, including the
many
operations she had undergone and the treatment she was having for her current ailments. Having exhausted her medical woes she went on to complain about her husband, who worked on the railway, and her five children all of whom were too young to be in the forces except her eldest son, Norman, who was in the army serving somewhere abroad. ‘Our Norman is delicate,’ she said, sighing. ‘He had whooping cough when he was six months old, then he got measles when he was three, chickenpox when he was three and a half, mumps when he was five and scarlatina when he was just six. It’s a wonder he’s still with us, but I just hope the army are taking care of him proper. You never know what he might catch in them foreign parts.’