Authors: LeeAnn Whitaker
Jack turned to the doorway to see a petite middle aged lady rushing through. She began to wet a big roll of cotton towel in the sink, to then smother it with the Tannafax gel. Carefully, she placed the dripping towel on Nell’s leg.
“I’ll take you,” Mr Durum patted Jack’s shoulder. “But for god sake lad, get some of that gel on your hands.”
***
It took only five minutes to reach the community hospital, which resembled more a grand house. Built from limestone, two stories high, with gothic bay windows.
Outside waiting, stood a doctor and nurse that Smith had informed beforehand. They laid Nell on a trolley and hurried inside.
In his whole life Jack had never felt so useless. He could still taste the smell of her burning flesh in his mouth. He keeled over panting, then vomited into a bush by the doors. He had seen some sights in his time. But to see Nell, his love on fire, was a vision of hell.
Jack had no clue where Nell had been taken, and was now sat in a small cold hospital room, being mollycoddled by an old sour-faced nurse. His hands were bound in bandages, and the nurse wiped his face like a Grandmother would do with a wet handkerchief. He flicked up his arm and pushed the nurse’s hand away.
“Get off me,” he snapped. “Where is she…Nell?” he glared. “I’ve been in here thirty minutes now, and no one has told me a damn thing.”
The nurse picked up a hospital gown from a chrome trolley, ignoring Jack’s outburst. “Here young man, put this on.”
Jack snatched the green gown and lobbed it across the room in anger. “I said, where is she?”
“You mind your tongue young man.” She retrieved the gown from the floor. “You want to be careful with that temper of yours.”
Jack placed his dirty bare feet on the cold tiles and stood. “I’m not going to bloody sit here any longer, until you tell me where she is. Do you…” He stopped yelling, noticing two nurses hurrying down the corridor outside.
He instinctively knew something was wrong with Nell, so stormed by the nurse and raced out of the door.
It was a quiet hospital, rather like a home for old folk to spend their golden years in. The ward opposite Jack, had seven beds in it and only four of them were taken. It was completely different to All Angels military hospital. Patients here seems to be ailed with old age: bronchitis, gout, incontinence, and broken hips.
“Come back here you blooming scally,” the nurse yelled, in slow pursuit.
Jack head swiftly toward the room where Mr Durum and Doctor Smith waited. As he drew closer, he could hear an array of mumbling as a nurse dashed by, pushing a trolley full of bloody swabs and gauze. It was Nell’s blood, and Jack knew it. Doctor Smith saw Jack’s white face approaching and jumped before him, to stop him going any further.
“Jack,” he held out his arms. “You should go back with the nurse there.”
Jack paced back and forth, wheezing. There was obviously something very wrong with her, and no one would tell him. He pushed off the wall and again tried to get passed Smith, as Mr Durum joined ranks to block Jack’s path.
“If I had my revolver, I’d shoot you,” Jack raged. “Now let me through!”
In another forceful movement he did it, thrusting his way to the doorway as several nurses wheeled Nell’s body out on a bed. He stood firm, refusing to let them take her.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
“She’s going to theatre,” Doctor Smith replied.
“Why?”
“Jack,” he sighed with a sympathetic expression. “If you don’t let them do their job, she will die.” Jack gawped at Nell’s sweet sleeping face, feeling his whole world crash down around him. “Let them go, and I will explain.”
Jack stepped aside in a state of shock. But as Nell was being rolled further away from him, he again stopped them taking her. He couldn’t let her go, not yet. He grimaced as a tear dropped from his eye. He took Nell’s cold hand in his bandages and kissed it.
“Please Nell, wake up.”
Mr Durum and Doctor Smith guided a deflated Jack into the room where Nell was being treated. Jack listened as the rattling wheels on the bed faded away.
They sat Jack down on a wooden chair by the door. He peered up with tear blemished eyes and noticed all the cotton swabs and bloody towels. He felt it again, that angry nausea. It came in waves and changed his temperament completely. He stood, and marched right up to Smith.
“Tell me now,” he grunted.
Smith exhaled, cautious of a backlash. “Nell is very sick Jack,” he said. “She has forth degree burns from the knee downward. She…” He couldn’t get the words out.
Jack bent closer to Smith’s face. “What!”
“It’s the only way,” he uttered.
“What!”
“Amputation from the knee down.”
Jack plunged down into the chair and held his head in his bound hands. Many of his comrades had died during limb amputation. Okay, that was out in the dirty fields. But he couldn’t help but think, that the same fate might become of his Nell.
“I’m so sorry Jack,” Dr Smith consoled. “She has developed a high fever, and the risk of the infection spreading is far too great.”
Jack didn’t want to know anymore. He had heard enough. He blamed himself. If he hadn’t gone looking for her, maybe Alistair wouldn’t have gone to such extremes. He lost her, found her, and fell in love with her all over again. To lose her now would be the end of him.
Nell had been out of theatre for near twenty-four hours, and ever since, Jack faithfully stayed by her side. Still unconscious, she lay in bed peacefully sleeping with a yellow blanket boxed over her legs.
Jack’s head rested on the mattress, tucked in by her waist. He prayed for her to wake, sat in a chair beside her. Obsessively, he would gaze up for signs of life, and every time he was hit by disappointment. It was a waiting game now he was told. And so he did. He waited, talked, touched, and kissed her continually. It bothered Jack. It bothered him that she looked so beautiful still. She was asleep so serenely, without any indication, other than what was under the blanket, that she had been mutilated.
“Hey Nell,” he said in an exhausted tone. “I was thinking about taking you away from here,” he stroked the back of her hand. “I don’t mean the seaside. Was thinking we’d travel to sunnier climates. Spain, or even the Bahamas.”
She didn’t respond. In fact, the entire time he sat and spoke to her, he hadn’t received any suggestion she had heard him at all. He didn’t want it to happen. He had been fighting it all day and night. That feeling of lost hope that crept inside him, was now beginning to take hold as all optimism waned. Drained and depressed, he slumped back in the chair.
“Nell, you’re making this such hard work.” He sighed in frustration and stood up. “I can’t hang around forever.” He rubbed his face with his sweaty bandages. “If you’re not even going to try.”
He staggered to the door, now beaten by her stubbornness. As he pulled on the handle, he heard the most marvellous sound. A sound that drove all that bleakness away. His Nell, awaking with a groan. He dashed back to her side and took hold of her hand, watching as her eyes strained to open.
“Nell,” he whispered. “Come on, stay awake.”
“Yeah,” her groggy voice murmured. “Thirsty.”
Jack quickly poured her a small glass of water from the jug on the bedside table. It was rather tricky to grip with hands the size of boxing gloves. He stooped over by her head, using one hand to help her sit a little, and the other to place the glass to her lips. She swallowed down a small amount and exhaled a raspy breath.
“Thank you,” she croaked, with a small grin. “What happened?”
Jack sat back down in the chair and tilted his view on her. A deep hollow grew inside his gut. He didn’t want to tell her what she had lost. He didn’t want to see more pain and hurt in the one he felt he had to protect.
“Jack, what happened to your hands?” she asked, worried.
“Nell, you don’t remember the fire?”
“Kind of,” she squinted. “Alistair?”
Jack shook his head and Nell began to cry. Even though her abuser tried to kill them both, Nell wouldn’t wish death on him. She didn’t have that vengefulness in her.
Jack felt a tinge of guilt, contemplating whether he could have tried to drag Alistair out of the fire. But at the time, he had only one choice. There was no time to go back, not when he had Nell in his arms. She was all that mattered to him.
“I’m sorry,” he gulped.
Nell’s hand reached out to caress his cheek. “Jack, it wasn’t your fault, okay.”
“There wasn’t time Nell,” he gazed up at her with glassy eyes, reliving the nightmare. “You could have died.”
Nell’s eyes peered down at the box beneath the blanket. She thought it was a table or something to eat on. It confused her as to why a blanket had been laid over it like a tablecloth. She began to bite her cheek, noticing Jack eyes well up with upset.
“What is a table doing under there?” she asked.
Jack took several heavy breaths with his head down. There was no way of softening this blow, and he had the task of inflicting it upon her. Nell frowned as he stared with despair displayed across his face.
“What is it?” she worried. “Jack,” she pushed for an answer.
He sniffed and placed both of his bandaged hands on hers, firmly. “I’m right here,” he said, clear. “You never think for one second, that this will change a thing, okay?”
Nell didn’t like it. She didn’t like his tone, his troubled expression, or the way he kept pausing with a pitiful look.
“Spit it out Jack,” she pressed.
“You have to believe me Nell… I won’t leave you again.”
“Jack!” Nell was now very annoyed.
Jack sucked in a breath. “You were on fire Nell. Your leg burnt real bad.” He swallowed down, plucking up the courage to finish. “There was nothing they could have done to save it.”
Nell slipped her hand out from beneath Jack’s. She clammed up in a muddle. She couldn’t believe what he said. She didn’t feel any pain. She was just a little woozy from inhaling the smoke. She shook her head in disbelief as Jack took her hand in his again.
“Jack, in my life, I never thought you would try and make a joke out of something like this,” she scowled. “It’s not funny.”
Nell was in denial. Even if her leg did suffer some burns, she knew from her nursing experience they wouldn’t amputate, unless the injuries were near fatal. She was awake, and still had all her senses about her. So of course she dismissed what he said, and ignored the grimness in his words. He was joking; nothing more to it.
“Nell, it’s true.”
“Jack, I’m wiggling my toes right now, and this has gone quite far enough,” she snapped.
There was nothing more Jack could do but show her. He stood up, grinding his jaw, uncertain about doing it this way. Taking a long breath, he gently tugged the yellow blanket, so it slid from her body and over the box. His chin stayed low to his chest, waiting for reality to strike and rip the one he loves into pieces.
“Put it back Jack… put it back!” Her whole body began to tremble in shock, as her wide eyes stared at the heavily wrapped stump.
Jack quickly covered her as she wept in distress. He sat by her waist, and pulled her up into his arms to embrace her tightly. He pressed her head into his shoulder, as her lungs briskly took in air.
“Shush Nell,” he choked up. “Shush.”
“I…I don’t understand… is this some nightmare,” she bawled. “Jack, wake me up.”
He held her head firmly on his chest, discarding a secret tear as he closed his eyes. “Nell I swear, you will get through this, and I’ll be right by your side.”
Nell snivelled and pulled away. Her hair was stuck to her flushed wet face as her eyes flood out the grief. Jack cupped her cheeks and gazed down at her. Nothing had change as far as he was concerned. What he felt for Nell couldn’t be penetrated by yet again another setback. Even if she had lost all her limbs, he would love her still. Because his unconditional love could not be stopped by illness, people, or strife no more.
“Nell, you are going to stop crying right now and listen to me,” he ordered tenderly. “It is just a leg, it’s not going to stop you living a full life.”
“So I’m just to be fine with this. I can’t walk Jack, how is that fine!”
“Stop it.” His bandages soaked up her tears. “We’ll get you a new leg,” he said. “You will walk, horse ride, dance, and dammit Nell, run if you want to.” She smiled faintly as Jack propped his forehead on hers. “We’ve been through some pretty rough times you and I, so this Nell, this is a piece of cake to deal with, okay?”
“No Jack, I’m not,” she murmured, falling back onto his shoulder sobbing.
That night Jack held Nell in the hospital bed until she fell asleep. He comforted her, and not a word they spoke to one another. He had to give her time. Time for it to sink in.
For two long weeks Nell remained a patient at the community hospital, and everyday Jack was there for visiting hours, right on the bell. He would take her out in her wheelchair for long strolls. And he would talk about anything and everything to try and lift her spirits. It had been difficult to watch her struggling to accept what had happened to her. The emotions would come on like great crashing tidal waves. Her mood swinging back and forth like a clock pendulum. But Jack remained passionately loyal to his girl. And no matter what she threw his way, whether it be trying to push him away with cold mean comments, or ignoring him completely, he dealt with it with a pinch of salt.
The sky above was overcast with thick woolly white clouds, and there was a light warm breeze. Jack lifted his head to the heavens, hoping the gods would be kind so he could take Nell out for a nice walk by the duck pond. There was rain in the air, and if it did rain, he would have to spend all afternoon trying to entertain Nell indoors.
Today was a big day for her, and hopefully when she saw, she wouldn’t be so downcast. Her stitches were to be removed, and the bandages would be finally coming off for good. Jack still thought her beautiful, but it would take a great deal of time for her to think the same of herself. Jack strove to be optimistic, for he had big plans. Plans that would involve both of their futures. So he needed her to realise, that to him, she was no different than she was before. Perfect.
Jack studied the bunch of wild purple foxglove he had picked from the back of the Durum’s house, and took them indoors. The hospitality he had received in the village, was second to none. The Durum’s had kindly let out their spare room to him, in return for odd jobs being done around the shop and garden. They fed him good home cooked food, and provided him with a sense of stability at such trying time. He had also come around to the idea of wearing Mrs Durum’s nephew’s old clothing. All were a little on the baggy side, but nothing his braces and a belt couldn’t fix.
“Oh Jack, those for Nell?” Mrs Durum asked, carrying a basket of fresh bread as Jack swilled the stems of the foxglove in the kitchen sink.
“Yep,” he smiled.
“Now, if I’m not mistaken, that cheeky grin of yours has a greater meaning.” She plonked the basket on the worn pine kitchen table, and placed her hands on her hips. “Do I hear wedding bells?” Jack chuckled, refusing to say, and turned his attention back to the flowers. “Well I never, eh.” Mrs Durum looked over Jack’s shoulder. “Two hearts that most defiantly belong together if I ever saw um.” Jack hummed, keeping schtum. “How’s those hands of yours now anyhow?”
Jack pulled his hand out of the running water and inspected the scarring. The first week they throbbed and stung, and whenever he could, he had them in cold water. But as the days had gone on, the healing process came along very nicely. All the blisters had now dried and healed, and the feeling had returned to his fingertips. They still felt tight and dry, but he never complained. How could he when Nell came out of the nightmare worse.
“Doing good Mrs Durum.”
“Well, you have got nothing to worry about Jack.” She picked up the basket and head toward the shop door. “If she don’t say yes, then I will eat my apron.”
***
Jack made his way down the hospital corridor. He hoped she wouldn’t think him tight-fisted for proposing without a ring. He simply couldn’t afford one yet, and he wanted the best for her. So he planned on saving, then he could help her pick one out for herself. He envisioned it, her face and how excited she would be.
Holding the string tied foxglove in one hand, he removed his brown tweed cap with the other. The nerves were gradually creeping through his body, as he held the door open for Nurse Walters (the sour-faced nurse who tried to treat his burns) still she held a bitter grudge about that night. She never said a word to him. Never smiled back. And would huff and mumble whenever she saw him.
As he neared Nell’s room, he overheard a heated conversation. He couldn’t pick up the exact words being said, but right away he felt the tense atmosphere, and knew why. The male voice he heard, he would recognise if heard anywhere. Even after all those years, Brigadier Haughton’s tone remained as cold as ice, and as calm as a still day. It was Nell who was the one yelling; yelling for him to listen to her.
Jack quickened his pace, and as he got within feet of the door, Brigadier Haughton stepped out, dressed in his military uniform. He was less than impressed to see the farm boy his daughter had declared her love for. He closed the door to Nell’s room, then turned his sharp focus onto Jack.
“Better late than never.” Jack glared right back, undaunted.
The Brigadier hummed at the bunch of foxglove Jack held. He thought them more weeds than a worthy gift for his daughter.
“Sergeant Montgomery,” he said. “I see you have recovered very well.” His voice was cutting and stern. “I have had a word with your commanding officer, and you are to return to your post… within the week.”
Jack scowled. He knew the game the Brigadier was playing, the supremacy card, and it angered him. But what he also knew, was that he would be classed as a deserter if he didn’t follow direct orders. Being a Sergeant, he knew he should have never left All Angels without informing his superiors first.
“And Nell?”
“She is to go to a convalescent home, where she will receive everything she needs to make a good recovery, and that is all you will know boy,” he said, definite. “I know you pulled my daughter out of that fire, but you still will never be a man good enough for her.”
Jack wanted to punch a high ranking officer right in the face, and tell him to take a swan dive off Dover cliffs. But instead, he held his cap tightly by his side to stop himself.
“And I suppose Alistair, your choice, was a good man, sir,” Jack sneered. “You put her into that fire. You nearly had your daughter killed handing her over to evil piece of work.”
The Brigadier said nothing, because he knew Jack was right. Though, such an honoured soldier would not admit to such a thing. He simply ground his jaw several times, placed his hat on his head, and turned his back.
“See to it you return to your post Sergeant, or you will be punished for desertion.” He marched easily away, leaving Jack now uncertain of everything yet again.
As he opened the door to Nell’s room, he heard her sobs. She was sat by her window, watching those white clouds turn grey and sullen. What Jack wanted- for this day to be a good memory, to make some progress, had been capsized by the Brigadier. Even the gods didn’t listen to him.
He gulped as he hovered slowly over to the back of the wheelchair, his clammy fingers gripping the stems of the foxglove. He picked them to cheer Nell up, but doubted very much they would work now. From behind he ran his hand over her soft wavy hair, and noticed her leg free of bandages and sutures. He wasn’t shocked. He expected her scars to be much worse, having seen old friends who had been shabbily sewn up in battle. He crouched by her side, sweeping his hand over her arm and down into her hands.
“I’m not going Jack,” she said. “And neither are you.”
“Your leg looks good Nell,” he said, knowing full well he had to go.
“It’s ugly,” she huffed. “I’m a monster.”
Jack placed his fingers on her chin and turned her head to face him. He was mad. Mad she would say such a thing about herself.
“Stop it.” He gazed into her hostile eyes. “Nell, here,” he held out the foxglove and she took them, revealing a brief hint of her old self.
“He can’t tell me what to do Jack. I’m not eighteen anymore.”
Jack arched up and kissed her lips. She placed her hands on his face and drew away with one narrow eye. She knew by the way he touched her, he had given into her father’s demands.
“You’re going to go aren’t you Jack?” Her eyes released a swell of tears. “After everything we’ve been through.”
“Nell, I do this, I’ll be home by Christmas,” he said as she turned away in upset. “I can hold my head up to your father, and you’ll have a speedier recovery than you would do here.”
“You will leave me again?”
“I’ll never leave you Nell,” he appealed, shuffling to the front of her chair to make her see. “I’ll write to you every day, and I’ll…” he choked up. “I’ll be back, promise.”
“You won’t, why would you come back to this,” she waved her hand over her leg. “Either you’ll die out there, or you’ll realise… realise you can’t be with a cripple,” she wept, and in turn so did Jack.
“I love you, why won’t you listen!” He lowered his head to his chest and felt her hand stroke up his neck. “You are everything to me, and seeing you like this is killing me.”
“I’m sorry Jack, but you…you deserve better,” she said in a snivel, referring to her leg.
“Marry me Nell,” he stared into her eyes, serious.
Nell blew out in disbelief. She wanted to be happy, and there was a tiny part of her heart that was. But she was uncertain if he had proposed in the heat of the moment, just to prove his love to her.
“I mean it Nell.” He pressed his hands on her face and stooped over to rest his forehead on hers. “I’ll wheel you out of here right now and find someone to marry us… say yes,” he urged.
Nell smiled and bit her bottom lip. “I will not say yes Jack.” He moved back in surprise, still with his hands on her face. “You will one day ask me that question again.” One lonely tear journeyed down over her cheekbone and onto his thumb. “Come back to me Jack. Swear you’ll come back to me.”
Jack grit his teeth with teary eyes. He kissed her lovingly. He didn’t want to go back into battle. He wanted to stay. To go back to war knowing what Nell had to contend with would make for a bad sergeant. How could he lead his men when his mind would be elsewhere? But if he didn’t, he knew the Brigadier would keep his word. And like all those years ago, find another way of keeping him away from Nell. He had to put a stop to the tyranny against their love, once and for all.
“I swear to you Nell, I will return. And we’ll marry, have children, a house with roses around the door, the whole works.” He brushed his nose against hers. “I love you, and no one can take that away.”
Nell wept, pressing her fingertips into his cheek, scared to remove her touch. Scared to let him go. “I love you.”