Far From Home (20 page)

She gently pushed him away. ‘It’s you who needs to remember that,’ she chided softly, ‘not me.’

He gave her one of those smiles which usually made her go weak at the knees. ‘Why not come upstairs and scrub me back for a minute? I’m sure you could do with a bit of a lie-down yourself.’

‘There’s a loofah in the bathroom,’ she retorted mildly. ‘I’ve done enough scrubbing today to last me a lifetime.’

‘Are ye sure I can’t persuade you?’

‘Get out of here, Jim Reilly,’ she said on a giggle. ‘I thought you were tired?’

He gave a deep sigh. ‘That I am, me darling. Dog tired. So don’t wake me if there’s another raid. If Hitler’s going to get me, then it’ll be in me own bed. I’m past caring.’

‘Funny you should say that,’ said Peggy. ‘Ron voiced the same sentiment when the Anderson shelter arrived a year ago, but he sits in there along with everyone else when there’s a raid on.’

‘Not me, and not tonight.’ He kissed her, leaving a smudge on her cheek, and then trudged upstairs.

Within minutes, Peggy heard the bathwater running. She finished peeling the vegetables and made the corned beef hash, her thoughts drifting from Jim to Ron to Cissy. She hadn’t needed to say much to Jim, he’d understood she was on to him. As for Ron, he was free to do what he liked, and if Rosie was his choice, then good for him.

She eyed Cissy, who at last seemed to be stirring from her deep sleep.

‘I’m feeling ever so much better,’ she said through a vast yawn. ‘Was that Dad coming in?’

Peggy nodded and told her about the windows and door. ‘He’s having a bath now, and will probably sleep right through, so don’t disturb him.’ She cocked her head and smiled. ‘That black eye’s coming on a treat, by the way.’

Cissy grimaced as she gingerly touched the lump on her forehead. ‘Thanks, Mum. I really wanted to know that,’ she said ruefully.

‘Here, borrow this old walking stick I found in the cellar. Are you feeling well enough to go upstairs and get changed out of those clothes? You’ve got some blood on your shirt that will need to be washed out.’

Cissy nodded. ‘If I take it slowly, I can manage just fine.’

Peggy was poised to rush and help as she listened to the girl make slow progress up the two flights of stairs. But it seemed Cissy had recovered enough to reach her bedroom and slam the door with her usual carelessness.

With a deep sigh, Peggy returned to setting the kitchen table. They would have to eat in here tonight, the dining room furniture was still stacked against the wall, and she hadn’t had the heart to ask Jim to shift it.

‘Can I help you, Mrs Reilly?’

Peggy turned and smiled. ‘No thank you, Danuta. Everything is under control.’ She noted the dark circles beneath the girl’s eyes and the weary droop of her shoulders beneath that drab brown dress and shabby cardigan. ‘I see you managed to find your way round the back, but you look like you could do with a cup of tea. Was it very tiring at the hospital?’

‘Thank you, I would like some tea. And yes, it is hard work, but maybe I can find other job where I am of more use.’

‘Ye’ll not be finding it easy without those bits of paper,’ muttered Ron as he lumbered up the basement steps and into the kitchen with an equally filthy Harvey at his heels. ‘What else can you do besides nursing?’

Peggy gave them both a cup of tea and lit a cigarette. ‘Don’t interrogate the girl, Ron,’ she chided softly. ‘Can’t you see she’s worn out?’

‘I can speak French and German as well as English,’ said Danuta, ‘and when I was with the resistance, I learn many other things – but these are not needed in Cliffehaven, I think.’

‘Well now,’ said Ron thoughtfully, his gaze steady on her wan face. ‘There are many different skills needed in these dark times. Maybe …’ He fell silent and drank his tea to the background noise of Harvey slurping from his water bowl.

‘You think these skills would be useful?’ Danuta was watching him closely.

He didn’t answer her question directly. ‘Did the authorities not ask you any questions when you arrived in England?’

Danuta shrugged. ‘Of course, and I had to stay in a camp before they would let me come to Cliffehaven. But I have identification papers, and I told them about my brother and my nursing skills. I did not think it very wise to tell them I could speak German.’

His eyes twinkled as he grinned. ‘You were probably right. German isn’t the favoured language at the moment. Still …’

‘You are thinking of something, Mr Reilly?’ Danuta’s interest was clearly piqued.

He gave a vast yawn. ‘I’m thinking I need a bath and a few minutes to read me paper,’ he replied, getting to his feet.

Danuta’s disappointment was clear, but she continued to sip her tea.

‘What are you doing tomorrow, girl? Would you consider coming with me up in the hills with Harvey? It’s about time I got some meat for the pot, and I always like a bit of company.’

Danuta eyed him thoughtfully. ‘I do not work until day after tomorrow,’ she replied. ‘I would like to see your English hills.’

‘Good, that’s settled then. Be ready straight after breakfast, and I’ll show you what me and Jim and everyone else in this country is fighting for.’

POLLY WAS WOKEN
by her alarm clock and she lay for a moment, bleary-eyed and disorientated. Then she heard the shrieking gulls squabbling on the roof across the road, and smelt the saltiness that was carried on the wind from the sea, and remembered she was in Cliffehaven. With a wry smile, she realised that although she’d been here for two days, this had been the first chance she’d had to actually sleep in her bed.

She luxuriated in a long stretch and rolled over to discover Danuta was watching her from the other bed. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘I hope my alarm didn’t wake you.’

‘No matter. I was only resting,’ Danuta replied, rising on to one elbow. ‘You sleep well?’

‘Like a log,’ Polly replied. ‘But I could have done with at least another eight hours,’ she added ruefully. She swung her legs off the bed and padded across the room in her pink liberty bodice and cami-knickers. ‘I’d better get washed and ready for visiting,’ she murmured, grabbing her dressing gown from the hook on the back of the door.

Danuta curled back into the soft blankets, and was still there when Polly returned to the bedroom to get dressed. ‘You have very nice hair,’ she said, as Polly ran a brush through it and left it to swirl around her face and shoulders. ‘I once had long hair, down to my waist. But it was not practical once I had to leave my apartment in Warsaw.’

‘It’s not really that practical as a nurse,’ muttered Polly as she stepped into a sprigged cotton frock and began to fasten the buttons that went from neck to waist. ‘But Adam loves it, and I just haven’t had the heart to cut it all off.’

She surreptitiously glanced at her watch as she slid her feet into her sandals. She didn’t really have much time to talk, but it seemed that Danuta was at last opening up to her, and it would be awful to deny her the chance. ‘Was it very bad in Warsaw?’

‘When the Germans came we lost everything,’ Danuta said with little emotion. ‘I cut my hair and sold it for food. The man made wigs for the women who consorted with the enemy soldiers.’ She grimaced, her eyes dark with disgust. ‘For some women it was the only way to survive – but I could not do that.’

Polly fastened the belt and smoothed the cotton dress over her hips. She was intrigued, despite the lack of time. ‘How did you survive, Danuta?’

‘I sell things, steal things, live like a rat in a trap.’ She sat up in bed and pulled the blanket up to her bony shoulders with a shiver. ‘There is no work for me at the hospital, but I must find food for Mamma and Papa, and when Aleksy’s wife, Anjelika, and their baby come to my hiding place, it is almost impossible to find enough for us all.’

Polly sank on to the bed beside her. ‘So, what did you do?’ she asked softly.

‘I survived,’ Danuta replied, her gaze steady, her little face working against the tears and the memories and the pain. ‘Mamma and Papa die, and then Anjelika and baby are taken away. I have no one to care for, so I leave Poland and join my friends who are fighting in the resistance.’

Polly wanted to hug her, to assure her that no matter how much she hurt, she would always be able to confide in her. But she had the feeling that Danuta would not appreciate any tactile sympathy – she just needed to talk. ‘You’re very brave,’ she murmured, resisting the urge to take Danuta’s hand.

‘I didn’t want to die without fighting back,’ Danuta replied. ‘It’s not about being brave – it is, how you say, instinctive.’ Throwing off the blanket to reveal a washed-out liberty bodice and pants, she grabbed the shabby dressing gown Peggy had given her and wrapped it tightly round herself before she faced Polly again. ‘I have new life now,’ she said firmly. ‘I must forget Poland.’

Polly suspected she never would, but didn’t argue the point. She sat on Danuta’s bed and watched as the girl briskly brushed her short, dark hair. She couldn’t begin to imagine the sort of life Danuta must have had during the occupation of Poland, and she suspected the tale she’d heard today was only a tiny glimpse into that terrible time. No wonder she was so edgy, so unwilling to open herself up to more hurt or rejection. Matron’s attitude must have almost destroyed her – and Polly knew it would have certainly broken her if she had been in Danuta’s shoes.

Danuta turned from the mirror above the gas fire. ‘I do not ask for pity, so please don’t look at me that way, Polly. We are the same age, I think, but our lives so far have been very different. Perhaps, now we are sharing this room, we can learn to understand each other a little bit, no?’

‘I hope so,’ murmured Polly.

Danuta put the hairbrush on the bedside table and glanced at the clock. ‘You will be late for Adam,’ she said. ‘I will see you later.’ She picked up a towel and left the room.

Polly’s thoughts were still occupied with Danuta’s sad story as she slowly pulled on a thick cardigan over her dress – the weather was changing and it got cold once the sun went down. The girl had obviously survived far worse things than the fall of Warsaw, and Polly wondered how deeply the scars of those experiences went – and how much damage had been done.

Everyone had finished their tea and the washing-up had been done, the kitchen tidied. Peggy had put a plate of dinner by the hob to keep it warm for Polly, and another plate for Jim in the larder in case he woke in the middle of the night wanting something to eat. The three girls had gone out again to meet their Australians, Ron had disappeared to his Home Guard duties after visiting the pub, and Mrs Finch was busy with her knitting.

‘Thanks for helping to clear everything up, Danuta,’ she said. ‘It’s a bit of a squash trying to feed everyone in here, but we’ll be back in the dining room tomorrow.’

‘It is nice to have everyone together in this kitchen. It reminds me of home,’ Danuta said shyly. ‘And although it is often that I cannot join in, I like to listen to the conversations and hear the laughing. It is good, I think, to keep the spirits high.’

‘It is indeed.’ Peggy smiled hesitantly. ‘Danuta, I have something for you. It’s not much, and I hope you won’t be offended, but it is given with the best of intentions.’

Danuta frowned as Peggy rushed into the hall. ‘What is this,
Babunia
?’

‘I have no idea,’ twittered Mrs Finch, ‘but knowing Peggy, it’ll be something very nice.’

Peggy returned bearing two large brown paper parcels. She fiddled with the knots in the string and carefully wound it into a ball to be used again before folding back the brown paper. ‘I thought these might do you until you have enough coupons to get yourself something new,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I’ve washed and ironed everything, so it’s all clean, and the shoes have hardly been worn.’

Danuta’s eyes widened as she lifted out two dresses, a floral skirt and white blouse, two cardigans, a blue jacket and a very smart navy raincoat. The second parcel revealed white sandals with low heels, warm slippers and a sturdy pair of walking shoes. ‘These are for me? But how you get them?’

Peggy felt herself blush. ‘I work at the rehoming centre for the WVS, and we’re always being given clothes and suchlike for those who’ve been bombed out. I explained your situation to my supervisor, and she gave me permission to hunt out a few of the better bits for you. I do hope you don’t mind?’

‘Oh, Peggy, they are lovely. You are so kind. So very kind.’ Tears glistened in Danuta’s eyes as she slipped on the warm jacket and caressed the good cloth. ‘It is so long since I had anything pretty to wear.’

Peggy had to clear her throat before she could speak. ‘Go and try everything on. I can always change them if they don’t fit.’

Danuta’s tears were yet to fall as she softly kissed Peggy’s cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘Thank you for thinking so kindly of me.’ She flashed Peggy and Mrs Finch a grin that made her look years younger. ‘Now I can feel like the real Danuta again.’

Peggy watched her run up the stairs, her heart full, the tears brimming. It was such a little thing that she’d done, but the reward was enormous – for Danuta’s smile was worth more than gold.

* * *

Polly reached the hospital just as the clock struck six. Mary was at her desk in the centre of the ward, keeping an eye on the probationer who was writing a letter for one of the men who had both arms in plaster. Two other nurses were quietly reading to those who had bandages over their eyes, and another was going through a trolley loaded with books and magazines for one of the younger men who was sitting in a wheelchair.