Liverpool Angels (22 page)

When Alice and Eddie had gone Maggie sat down opposite her niece. ‘So, I see he’s bought you a very nice ring, Mae.’

Mae smiled at her; she’d had a good idea that this interrogation was coming. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? It’s antique and French.’

Maggie nodded. ‘And no doubt expensive, but are you sure about marrying him, Mae? It’s a very big decision.’

‘I’m sure, Aunty Maggie. I love him. I never loved poor Harry, even though I knew he was fond of me. I liked him a lot, of course, he was like a brother or a cousin, but I didn’t give him any false hopes.’

‘Both Agnes and I hoped, Mae, that you and Harry—’

‘I couldn’t have married Harry, Aunty Maggie,’ Mae interrupted her. ‘I just didn’t love him. He was a thoroughly nice, kind, quiet lad. Alice was really angry with me when she found out I was seeing Pip.’

‘Indeed?’ Maggie hadn’t known this. ‘Doesn’t she like him?’

‘Yes, she does.’

‘Well, at least your da would have been happy with your choice, Mae. He told me that although he had nothing against Harry, he wanted better for you. I think he’d be quite pleased with the son of a Boston lawyer, but are you sure it wasn’t anything to do with being so far away from home or being caught up in the middle of all that . . . chaos and suffering?’ She didn’t want her niece to make the same mistake she’d made, she thought, remembering Billy McEvoy.

‘No, I’d fallen in love with him long before that but sharing those . . . awful days brought us closer together. You’ll like him, Aunty Maggie, I know you will. Of course he comes from a very different background, his family are quite well off and he went to one of the finest universities in America, but he’s not a bit snobbish.’

‘And you do realise, Mae, that when you marry him you’ll be starting a new life on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean?’

Mae nodded and smiled. ‘Yes, but it takes less than a week to cross now and Boston isn’t too far from New York.’

Maggie had to concede this and in fact her doubts were receding for Mae wasn’t impulsive or impetuous. ‘Well, the lad did volunteer to come over and drive an ambulance even though his country isn’t involved in the fighting – although there are a lot of people here who think they should be. That shows courage and decency.’

‘I know it’s selfish of me but for Pip’s sake I hope they stay out of it. We don’t intend to get married until all the fighting is over, Aunty Maggie, and who knows when that will be?’

‘Soon, I pray, please God. I could weep every time I see Agnes and their poor Jimmy. Twenty years old and a cripple and his brother in his grave long before his time.’

‘I know, Aunty Maggie. Alice and I have seen enough misery to last a lifetime,’ Mae replied sadly. ‘Which is why I don’t want Pip to have to fight.’ She decided that this train of thought was becoming too sombre and depressing so she smiled. ‘Shall we have another cup of your wonderful tea? It tastes even better than the wine Monsieur Clari gave us when Pip gave me the ring. I’ll tell you all about that day.’

Alice had embraced a tearful Agnes and Lucy and had smiled happily at Jimmy as she sat down beside him. ‘I’m so glad to be home, Jimmy, even if it’s not for very long. How are you getting on? Mam’s written giving me a progress report on both you and our Eddie, who appears to be making a complete recovery.’

Jimmy had been filled with a sense of happiness when she’d come in. He’d been looking forward to seeing her again for there was a lot he had to say to her, but at the mention of Eddie’s recovery he felt some of it fade. ‘They’ll send him back again, Alice.’

She nodded. ‘I know, Jimmy. There’s no end in sight but at least it’s all over now for you,’ she said quietly.

Agnes decided that it would be better to leave them to talk; they shared some of the experiences which Jimmy refused to discuss but which tormented his dreams – perhaps Alice could help him in that respect. ‘Lucy, luv, will you take your gran up a cup of tea and then come and help me and your da to close up the shop,’ she instructed.

Jimmy flashed a grateful glance at his mother; he knew she too wanted to speak to Alice for her grief was still raw and had been increased by the news that Mae was engaged to an American. He knew his mam had hoped for Mae as a daughter-in-law.

‘I’ve been looking forward so much to seeing you again, Alice—’ he started tentatively.

‘We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Jimmy,’ she interrupted gently, placing a hand on his arm.

‘I . . . I want to, Alice. I want to thank you for everything you did . . .’

‘Our Eddie did far more than me, Jimmy.’

He nodded. ‘I know. If it hadn’t been for Eddie I’d have died and I’ve told him I can never repay him for that.’

‘He knows that, but you would have done the same for him, Jimmy. I really didn’t do much, it was Surgeon Major Fawcett’s skill that saved you.’

‘But you stayed with me, Alice.’ He took her hand in his as he remembered how dark and terrifying his world had been that day.

She managed a wry smile. ‘I nearly had a stand-up fight with Staff Nurse Thomas to stay, but I’d promised I’d look after you. I had to leave though when they . . . operated, even though I didn’t want to. I’d seen a lot of cases like yours so I wasn’t going to faint. But she was right, I was too involved, too close to you, and there were so many other men and boys needing help. You’ve no idea how many there were, Jimmy – thousands – and we just couldn’t cope in the end. We couldn’t even put clean dressings on their wounds before we had to ship them out.’ She paused. ‘But at least I managed to see you afterwards.’

He told her slowly, ‘After . . . after you left me and they took me to the ship, everything was still confused . . . the pain . . . the shock . . . but we were packed like sardines on that ship, Alice. There wasn’t an empty space on the deck and I . . . I realised just how many . . .’

‘I know, Jimmy. Don’t dwell on it. It’s all behind you now.’

‘I can’t help it, Alice. Often during the day . . . it all goes away, but at night . . . our Harry and Tommy and . . . the noise and the . . . agony . . .’ He broke down despite himself.

Alice took him in her arms and held him tightly, tears stinging her own eyes, How she wished she could take away some of his grief and pain. ‘It will get better, Jimmy. The memories won’t seem as bad . . . in time. Just think how lucky you are. You’ll be able to get around soon. They’ll fit you with an artificial limb so you won’t need the crutches and you’ll never have to go back to face it all again.’ Unlike her poor brother, she thought bitterly. Twice they’d sent Eddie back now. Would he survive a third time?

Jimmy seized on her words as a lifeline and began to calm down. ‘I know, Alice. I’m . . . sorry. Damned fool blubbering like a baby.’

‘You’ve nothing to apologise for, Jimmy. Those . . . experiences have driven some men mad. Oh, officially it’s not supposed to exist, we’re never to even utter the words, but we all know, even the medical officers, that it’s a condition called “shell shock”. You have nothing to be ashamed of! You served your King and Country to the best of your ability – and I’d say far beyond that.’

‘But you’ll have to go back, Alice,’ he reminded her, wishing she could stay with him.

She nodded. ‘I will, but we’re not in any danger and I’ve got lots of time before then.’

‘I’ll be much better now, Alice. You being here will help me get over . . . things.’

She smiled at him. ‘I’m glad, Jimmy, really I am. I’ll come and see you every day,’ she promised. ‘I said I’d look after you – remember?’

‘And you did,’ he said, feeling cheered, for her words had made him realise that he wasn’t a fool or a coward for breaking down in tears or waking screaming in the night.

T
he time had flown by, Mae thought as she packed her case. They were going back tomorrow. She’d enjoyed being with her family and friends and she’d definitely savoured the comforts of home that she’d always taken for granted before she’d gone to France but now appreciated so much more. Basic things such as being clean, knowing she hadn’t picked up any unwelcome ‘visitors’, being able to appreciate unhurried meals at a proper table or sit and enjoy the luxury of reading because her day wasn’t punctuated by bugle calls. But she’d missed Pip, even though he’d written to her. In his letter he told her he’d managed to get a few days’ leave himself. He hadn’t left Boulogne; he’d slept a great deal and enjoyed walking in the autumn sunshine by the sea. He’d caught up with his correspondence and written up his journal, which had been greatly neglected, in the relative comfort of the Café Arc-en-ciel, much to Monsieur Clari’s amusement and curiosity. But he was looking forward to her return. Part of her was also looking forward to returning, but part of her wasn’t.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of Aunty Maggie’s steps on the stairs.

‘I’ve ironed these things, Mae, so try not to get them too creased,’ her aunt instructed as she placed Mae’s dresses and aprons on the bed.

‘Thanks, I’ll do my best, Aunty Maggie,’ she promised.

Maggie sat down on the bed, shaking her head. ‘God knows what that Sister Harper is going to say to our Alice about cutting three inches off the bottom of her dresses. Oh, I can see her reasoning about the dirt and dust and tripping over but I’ve a feeling there will be hell to pay. But you know our Alice, she’s a self-willed little madam when she chooses to be and I told her so. “On your own head be it, miss!” I warned.’

Mae grinned. ‘I don’t think they’ll send her home though. She’ll get a dressing down – we both will – but I bet it won’t be long before the other girls shorten theirs.’

Maggie tutted disapprovingly. ‘You shouldn’t have let her shorten yours as well, Mae.’

‘I thought that if we showed a bit of solidarity it might help. Anyway, I agree with her, long skirts are nothing but a nuisance out there. Fine if you’re working in a hospital that doesn’t consist of tents with packed-earth floors and has lovely polished corridors instead of open compounds. And with winter coming we’ll be back to contending with muddy boots.’

Maggie nodded. ‘I wish there was some way I could keep our Eddie at home, Mae, I really do. I’ll not have a minute’s peace, I’ll be worrying myself to death when they send him back and, as you say, with winter coming how will he cope in those trenches? Surely to God having to be shipped home twice is enough?’

‘I know, Aunty Maggie. It’s very hard on him, on all of them.’

‘I never dreamed that we’d have to endure a third Christmas with them still fighting. No one did. Will you try to keep an eye on him, Mae, if you possibly can?’

‘If he’s sent to the front-line trenches, all I can do is write to him, Aunty Maggie. They do take the mail and parcels up the line. But I’ll enquire regularly about what the battalion is doing and where it is. Has he said anything about going back?’ She remembered very well the fear in his eyes when she’d seen him that day in Boulogne last time he’d been sent back.

‘No, but I know he’s dreading it. He goes very quiet whenever anything is mentioned,’ Maggie confided. She didn’t blame him. He’d lost a lot of his mates, he’d been wounded and had seen and endured God alone knew what horrors. She’d tried to imagine what he’d gone through the day Harry and Tommy Mitford had been killed and what he’d endured as he’d carried Jimmy all that way, but she knew that beside the actuality anything she could hope to imagine probably paled into insignificance.

Mae sighed. ‘I suppose it’s only to be expected. I can’t say I fancy the journey back myself. I just hope there won’t be much of a wind blowing across the Channel.’

Maggie got to her feet. ‘Well, I’ll be sending him back with plenty of socks and warm clothes. Come down when you’ve finished packing and we’ll have a cup of tea. Our Alice should be back by then, she hasn’t finished her packing yet.’

Mae grimaced. ‘After tomorrow it’s back to tea with chlorine!’

Alice hadn’t been looking forward to saying goodbye to Jimmy and his family. Both Agnes and Bertie were still very down and upset and Mrs Webster’s increasingly failing health only added to Agnes’s burdens. But the old lady had had a long life, Alice thought, and at least she’d die in her bed, which was more than a lot of people did these days. Lucy was growing up and although she was obviously affected by her brother’s death she seemed to be coping with it.

‘Well, this time tomorrow Mae and I will be back to the luxury of General Camp Hospital Number Twenty-four, Jimmy,’ Alice joked. ‘I really can’t say I’ve missed it much.’

‘It’ll be getting cold now, Alice. Do you have any kind of heating?’ Jimmy asked. His stay there had been very brief; it had been summer and he’d been too ill to notice much.

‘Stoves. They’re not bad but it’s not like being in a warm cosy house,’ she replied, glancing around Agnes’s comfortable, tidy kitchen. ‘But we manage – it’s a case of having to,’ she added brightly, knowing they were far more fortunate than the men in the trenches.

‘You will write to me, Alice?’ Jimmy asked earnestly. He didn’t want her to go; she’d brought hope and happiness into his life – and he loved her.

‘Of course I will – and you let me know how you are managing and when you’re getting your new leg. When I get home next time I expect to see you striding about –and without crutches, mind.’

Jimmy nodded. It had been decided that when he was able, he would take over in the shop from his mam. Agnes would help, of course, but he would be in charge. It wasn’t the same as going out to work with his mates, the way he’d done before the war, but he had to do something, he’d told Alice. He couldn’t sit here all day feeling sorry for himself. ‘Do you think you’ll get leave again soon?’ he asked hopefully.

Alice shrugged. ‘I doubt it will be soon. Even if there are no further battles it won’t be for months – there are plenty of others who haven’t had leave yet.’

‘The brass don’t seem to think there’s anything to be gained by mounting any big pushes in winter, going by the last couple of years,’ Jimmy mused.

‘Then I hope they’ve informed the Boche,’ Alice said rather cuttingly. ‘It would make everyone’s life a lot easier.’ She sighed. ‘I won’t be home for Christmas, I know that. It’ll be my first Christmas away from home but I’ll have Mae and Lizzie and the others.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’d best be getting back, I haven’t finished packing yet.’

Jimmy, with the aid of his crutches, got up too. Alice made no attempt to help him, knowing he would have to come to terms with and learn to cope with his disability.

‘Take care of yourself, Alice, and come home . . . safe,’ he said awkwardly.

She hugged his parents and sister and then turned to him. ‘Come on then, you can see me to the door.’

She slowed her steps to match his and when she reached the door to the street she stopped. ‘You’ll get stronger each day, Jimmy, and you’ll know that I’m thinking of you and worrying about you.’

He swallowed hard. He
had
to tell her before she went away. ‘Alice . . . I want to say something. I . . . I know I’m a cripple now but I . . . I love you.’

She smiled, and reached her hand out to his. She’d been longing to hear him say those words. ‘I love you too, Jimmy, and I don’t think of you as a cripple, I never will. I’m just so grateful that you’re alive and not paralysed or blinded or gassed.’

He felt relief and happiness rush through him but then sadness that she was going. ‘I don’t want you to go, Alice, I don’t want to lose you.’

‘I have to go, Jimmy, to help other lads like you, and you won’t lose me. I told you I’d always look after you and I meant “always”. There won’t be anyone else for me, Jimmy Mercer, and that’s the truth.’ She reached up and put her arms around his neck and kissed him. Someday she’d come back to him for good. When the war was over she’d come back and they’d be together and they’d be happy.

Jimmy smiled as he watched her cross the street. Life looked infinitely better now, he thought. She was the dearest, kindest and bravest girl he’d ever known even if she was only seventeen.

Next morning they were all up early and as a treat Maggie cooked them bacon and egg and fried bread. ‘You’ve a long journey ahead of you, you need a good breakfast, and you still need building up, Eddie,’ she said firmly as she placed the plates in front of them. ‘And I’ve made sandwiches for you to take with you,’ she added.

‘Savour every mouthful, Alice, it’s back to mess food and terrible tea tomorrow,’ Mae said, grimacing.

‘Aye, make the most of it,’ Eddie added, forcing a grin. He only expected to be home for another couple of weeks now but having them both here had made him forget the war – sometimes. At least Alice’s presence had cheered Jimmy up no end.

‘As soon as you hear . . . anything, Eddie, will you let us know?’ Mae asked, remembering her promise to Maggie. ‘You know where we will be but we’ll have no idea where you’ll be.’

Eddie agreed. He’d be going wherever the 18th Battalion was but there wouldn’t be many of his mates left in it now. ‘You give my regards to that feller of yours, Mae. Those lads do a great job.’

Mae smiled at him. ‘I will, Eddie.’

‘What will he be to us two when you get married, Mae?’ Alice asked to lighten the conversation for she’d seen the worried look on her mam’s face and she knew Eddie was doing his utmost to put a brave front on things.

Mae thought about this. ‘Cousin-in-law, I suppose. I haven’t really thought about it.’

Alice sighed as she finished her meal. ‘At least you’ll be able to spend some time with him at Christmas. All I’ll be able to do is send Jimmy a card and some small gift.’

Mae nodded as she digested this. It would be the first Christmas she too would spend away from home but also the first she would spend with Pip, and she was so looking forward to seeing him again, although it probably wouldn’t be for another couple of days.

Eddie said nothing. He didn’t want to think about where he would be this Christmas. He was the only one left of their little group who would be in France for Christmas this year. Of course Harry and Tommy were there, in one of the military cemeteries that now lined the coast, ever-increasing fields of white crosses that faced the sea – and home. But they were never coming home.

They were both tired and travel-stained when they finally arrived in Boulogne at the end of a rough crossing, although neither of them had actually been sick, Mae thought thankfully as they disembarked from the Channel steamer. It was dark and there was a sharpness in the tangy air now which foretold of colder days ahead.

‘I never thought I’d say it, but I’ll actually be glad to get back to the hospital,’ Alice announced as she struggled with her case and her hat, which she hadn’t pinned securely enough and was now threatening to blow off in the stiff breeze.

‘I’m just glad to get back on dry land. That was worse than the Mersey ferry in a gale in winter,’ Mae added, pulling the collar of her jacket up around her neck as she followed Alice.

‘Isn’t that your Pip over there, Mae?’ Alice cried, pointing and feeling greatly pleased as she spotted the ambulance and the tall figure now heading towards them.

‘Welcome back, ladies! No need to try to hitch a ride. I managed to persuade them to let me have half an hour off. It’s great to see you, Mae. I’ve missed you so much,’ Pip greeted them both, putting his arm around Mae and kissing her cheek.

‘Oh, I didn’t expect to see you tonight, Pip, but I’m so glad you’re here!’ Mae was both delighted and relieved. ‘I’ve missed you but I did enjoy being home.’

‘What we didn’t enjoy was the crossing on that flaming ship. You wouldn’t think such a short stretch of water could be so rough!’ Alice shuddered.

‘Give me those cases and I’ll put them in the back. At least you can ride the rest of the way in some comfort,’ Pip instructed as he shepherded them towards the ambulance.

Mae felt utterly content as she sat next to him with Alice squeezed in beside her on the front seat. It was as if she wasn’t . . . complete without him.

‘Our friend Monsieur Clari thinks you’ve left me,’ Pip joked to Mae.

‘You did explain that I’d only gone on leave?’ she asked earnestly.

Pip laughed. ‘Darling Mae, you are delightful! Of course I did. There’s a good bottle of wine waiting for us on our next visit, to welcome you back.’

Mae smiled. ‘He’s very kind.’

‘He certainly seems to have taken a liking to the pair of you,’ Alice stated. ‘Though personally I’d sooner have a decent cup of tea.’

Both Pip and Mae chuckled. In a strange way she really was glad she was back, Mae thought. Meanwhile, Alice was peering at what little of the road ahead she could see in the headlights and wondering what kind of reception awaited her tomorrow morning when she reported for duty in a dress that showed her ankles.