Blitz Page 9

  ‘Amy –’ the woman whispered and Robin bent to hear her better. ‘What is it? Is that your name? Amy? It’s such a pretty name – what’s the rest of it, can you tell me?’

  The woman rolled her head restlessly on the pillow. ‘I’m Betty –’ she said and now her voice was strengthened by a spurt of anger. ‘Betty Roydell, seventeen Sidney Street, London E. I. – Betty Roydell –’ Her voice ran away then, and she closed her eyes tightly and yelped again and Robin risked a look downwards at her leg.

  It was looking a little more like a human limb now, and less like a piece of butcher’s meat on a slab. The two doctors had stopped the bleeding and one of them was now mopping away the last of it, while Mr Landow was preparing a curved needle with catgut, and Robin looked at him and at the great gash that she could now see ran right round the calf from the inner side of the knee almost down to the ankle on the other side, and instinctively tightened her grasp on Betty Roydell’s hand, which she had slipped into hers without even realizing she’d done it.

  Betty opened her eyes again and said loudly, ‘Amy? Where’s Amy –’ and suddenly Robin understood.

  ‘Is that your baby, Betty?’ she said and the woman stared at her with hot eyes and said urgently, ‘My baby? – Amy?’

  ‘Sister says she’s fine,’ Robin said, but still the woman looked agitated and had opened her mouth to speak again, when the babies across the big hall, who had quietened down, possibly because of the sort of magic Chick always worked with children, started again. A long wail of misery filled the air and beneath her fingers Robin felt the woman’s hand relax.

  ‘That’s all right, then,’ she said and closed her eyes again and this time seemed to go to sleep, and Robin smiled at Mr Landow almost in triumph as though she had achieved something, when of course she hadn’t. But they all seemed to feel better.

  It took the two doctors half an hour to stitch the deeper layers of the wound and then to repair the surface, using syringe after syringe of local anaesthetic as they went.

  ‘Can’t use a general,’ Landow muttered when she ventured to ask why. ‘Not only because the bloody theatres are jammed with even worse cases than this, God help us, but because in her state she’d never survive it. She’s lost over two pints I reckon – check whether it’s down from the lab, will you? The blood we ordered for her – it should be here by now.’

  She checked and found it was, and then helped them set up the transfusion and saw the now restless Betty sent to the wards, while her baby, who it seemed was suffering little more than a bad fright, was admitted to the children’s ward to wait for her. Sister Marshall was a good soul, and never objected to taking in such children if she had space.

  ‘And even if she hadn’t,’ Chick murmured at Robin as she hurried past her on her way to the ward with Amy and another baby who had to be admitted for the same reason. ‘She’d put ’em up in the bath. See you at the midnight trough – ’

  But they didn’t get to their midnight meal. Robin, swathed in a vast red rubber apron, had to clean her cubicle first where the thick clotted blood, which lay everywhere and which also spattered up to the ceiling, took a lot of removing, and she’d no sooner finished than another wave of casualties arrived, this time people who had been gassed when a main was fractured and there was a great panic to get respirators on them all and to repair the injuries they had collected at the same time.

  At one point in the ensuing hubbub Robin became aware of Hamish Todd working like a man twice even his considerable size, bodily carrying full-grown people from trolley to cubicle through the busy waiting room because it was quicker than trying to manoeuvre the big agony wagons, as everyone at the hospital called them, fast enough. He caught her eye as he settled one of them in her cubicle and said, ‘Good evening Nurse Bradman,’ in as calm and courteous a voice as if they had encountered each other at a vicarage tea party and she would have burst into laughter, if it hadn’t been for the man on her couch, who was beginning to emerge from his semicoma and was rolling around restlessly and also starting to retch. She reached for a kidney dish but too late, and as a mass of half digested food and quantities of heavy beer hit her newly cleaned floor and walls she could have screamed. By which time Hamish was away collecting more people to take them to cubicles.

  By the time that man had recovered enough to be carried up to the ward that had been set aside for gassed cases, up on the top floor of the far wing, and she had cleaned the malodorous mess in her cubicle, it was past midnight, and somehow she had no appetite.

  Casualty was still bursting at the seams with patients and staff, and she saw no reason to bother Sister Priestland for instructions. She just stayed in the cubicle she’d been put in and dealt with whatever cases the ambulance men came and dumped there. She would clean up superficial wounds as best she could and make the patient as comfortable as possible and then go and try to find a doctor she could drag to her cubicle to see what more needed to be done. There were notes pinned to each patient’s garments, obviously collected on their way in, and not knowing what had to be done with them, she simply wrote on each the time, and what treatment had been given and sent them on their way, some to be admitted, but more and more, as the pressure came off and the raids dribbled to an end, to homes if they still had them, or to the emergency centres if they hadn’t.

  Quite a lot of them went no further than the benches in the middle of the waiting room and stretched out there, and Robin was anxious about that. Surely it wasn’t permitted in this busy department? But Sister Priestland, still hurtling around like a thing possessed and doing the work of three, saw them and said nothing, so neither did Robin. And her respect for her new Sister went up a notch.

  At half past five Chick came across the at last quiet waiting hall, where the only activity seemed to be a few faint sounds from people twisting and turning to make themselves as comfortable as they could on the hard benches, and shook her head at her. Her apron was smeared with blood, her curly hair was in an uproar and her cap looked as though it just had been squeezed, then stamped on and finally pinned back on her head.

  ‘Children,’ she said briefly as she caught Robin looking at it, and then groaned. ‘Do you remember something called food? I’m sure I had some once. Right now though it’s like a mirage. My poor belly – hollow as a – ’

  ‘Nurses!’ Sister Priestland appeared at their side with all the suddenness of the fairy queen in a pantomime. ‘There are sandwiches in my office. And coffee. Come and get it at once. No, I shall remain out here to keep an eye open. Go and get your food. At once!’

  Gratefully they went and found the small cluttered office filled with comfortable fug and a number of people. The two doctors, Landow and Mike Smith, a sandy-haired round-faced man of great charm and sweet temper, Staff Nurse Meek and the senior probationers Jenner and Dollis, and the laboratory technician who had spent a hectic night cross-matching the umpteen pints of blood that had been needed for transfusions, as well as making sure there were enough bottles of normal saline and dextrose to keep the shocked patients alive. They were all smoking and hazy blue wreaths hung over their heads and added to the heat; but no one seemed to mind.

  ‘Ah!’ said Dollis, a large girl in thick glasses and with her cap pinned severely at the front of her head. ‘The new bugs. Come over here, you two, and find a corner. It’s all right to smoke – ’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Chick said gratefully and curled down in the corner. ‘But I need food more – ’

  ‘Sister’s a gem,’ Dollis said. ‘Lots of watercress for sandwiches from somewhere – help yourself.’

  They did, and sat there munching in a comfortable silence while the men talked in a desultory fashion of the cases they’d dealt with and the nurses just stared into space. They were all too tired to talk, but it was good to be there with them, Robin decided, and reached for another sandwich from the depleted plate.

  And then stopped and looked around again.

  ‘Where’s Todd?’ she said.
‘Isn’t he taking a break too?’

  ‘Todd?’ Staff Nurse Meek raised her eyebrows at her. ‘Who’s Todd?’

  ‘The orderly,’ Robin said. ‘The one who carried all those patients through the waiting room because they couldn’t get the trolleys through. He’s worked so hard – I’ve seen him. He must be starving.’

  ‘Oh, he’ll get his somewhere else,’ Nurse Meek said and reached into her dress pocket for another cigarette. It was still quiet outside in the waiting hall and there seemed to be no rush at the moment.

  ‘Where?’ Robin said and Chick poked her in the ribs, but she paid no attention. ‘There isn’t anywhere else, is there? If you don’t go for your meal at midnight or at half past, where else can you go?’

  ‘Really, Nurse whatever your name is,’ Meek snapped at her. ‘I don’t see what the orderly’s work has to do with you.’

  ‘Nothing,’ Robin said steadily. ‘But it just doesn’t seem right that – ’

  ‘That what?’ Meek said dangerously. Never, thought Robin in the recesses of her mind, was a person more ineptly named. She had a sharp little face that was pretty sometimes but now looked foxy with anger. She had lifted her head so that the special bows of the fully-trained nurse showed clearly under her chin and Robin felt herself quail. But she couldn’t stop now.

  ‘That what?’ Meek repeated and Robin took a deep breath.

  ‘That he is not allowed to come and share the break with us,’ she said. ‘He’s worked just as hard as we have. Harder, I think – ’

  ‘Really? That’s your opinion is it?’ Meek said acidly. ‘Tell me, did Sister Marshall welcome the opinions of junior probationers on her ward? Or did she just step back and let you run it?’

  ‘Who is Todd?’ Dr Landow said lazily, and looked at Robin with a ghost of a wink. ‘Someone special?’

  ‘Not in the least special,’ Meek said sharply. ‘Just an orderly – some conchie they’ve stuck us with.’

  ‘You’re not stuck with him!’ Robin flared at her. ‘He’s a very good man who works hard and – ’

  ‘Dear me, do I hear the wings of love or whatever breaking on the turgid air and all that rot?’ Mike Smith said and laughed. ‘Stooping to conquer a bit, aren’t you, dear? You can do better than a conchie orderly, I’d have thought.’

  ‘It’s nothing of the sort,’ Robin cried, her face crimson with embarrassment now. ‘It’s just that it doesn’t seem right when we’ve all worked the same that we don’t all get the same sort of break and something to eat and I just wanted to know – ’

  ‘Well, it’s none of your business,’ Staff Nurse Meek said furiously. ‘Much more of this and I’ll have to talk to Sister about you! And you won’t like that one bit!’

  ‘End of fuss,’ Dr Landow said lazily and got to his feet. He was a tall man with a shadow of dark stubble across his chin and cheeks, and a rapidly receding hairline, and he had an air of authority about him that stopped Staff Nurse Meek, who had opened her mouth to speak again. ‘I’ll take the absent Todd the remains of this great feast and our young nurse’s conscience will be satisfied and our staff nurse’s sense of propriety won’t be outraged. Everyone had enough of Sister’s delectable watercress sandwiches? Splendid. The remains shall serve as a banquet to our despised – and prized – orderly.’ And he went lounging out of the small room bearing the plate and the coffee that Chick, acting with speed if not prudence, had poured into one of the tin mugs.

  There was a silence and then Staff Nurse Meek, her cheeks suddenly much redder than they had been and her eyes very bright, said sharply, ‘All of you nurses, it’s time to get this place tidied. At once, now. I’ll deal with you later, Nurse Bradman. Or rather, Sister will. Now get this place cleaned up at once.’

  And clean up they did. By the time the day staff came through the big double doors with their clean aprons glittering in the morning sunshine, and their caps neatly set on well-brushed hair, the casualty nurses looked like the skivvies they had been for the past two or three hours.

  Their work had been to some effect, however. Nurse Meek had chivvied the sleepers out of the waiting room while Sister Priestland was out of sight dealing with a member of the nursing staff from the operating theatres who had splashed her legs with pure carbolic acid, and had harried the four junior nurses mercilessly. Dollis and Jenner had been furious with Robin for having so provoked the staff nurse and muttered unpleasantly at her as they passed her, and altogether Robin had felt wretched.

  But she knew she had been right, and that had helped her a little, and if anyone argued more with her about it, she’d stick to her guns, she told herself firmly, even with Sister if she had to. It had been abominable to ignore Todd when they’d had their break, quite abominable, and she scrubbed and polished even harder every time she thought of it. It was worth all this nagging and dislike to have stood up for a principle, really it was.

  Or so she tried to convince herself, but by the time she came off duty, bedraggled and exhausted, she wasn’t quite so sure. All around her the hospital buzzed and hummed as the day got under way and the rubble began to be picked up in the battered streets and houses that surrounded it and she stood there blinking in the sunshine and wondering bleakly why she bothered. It was too wearing altogether to work here, and maybe she should do as Poppy wanted her to do and leave London and find somewhere peaceful and safe, out of the line of fire.

  But then she pulled her cape more closely around her and set off to trudge to the Nurses’ Home and a bath and bed. It was silly to stand about thinking when she felt like this. She’d never think clearly that way, and she dragged her weary feet on and was hardly able to turn her head when Chick came after her and fell into step alongside.

  ‘Heavens, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why weren’t you in the dining room?’

  ‘If you think I can face shepherd’s pie at this hour of the morning, you’ve another think coming,’ Robin said. ‘If only we could have two breakfasts it wouldn’t be so bad, but the sight of all that awful stuff – and the cabbage – at eight in the morning – I just can’t handle it.’

  ‘Night Sister’ll have your guts for garters,’ Chick said cheerfully. ‘I answered roll call for you this morning, but she looked up a bit sharpish when I did it. I won’t get away with it again. No more shirking! Come and sit with us at least, even if you don’t want to eat. Then you can find out about your own off-duty.’

  ‘Mmm? What off-duty?’

  ‘See what I mean? They’ve changed the schedule, ducky. You’ve got three nights off starting tonight! So you needn’t face old Priestland and that repellent very unMeek madam, and by the time you get back maybe they’ll have forgotten all about your waving the banner for Todd. Whatever got into you?’ Chick looked at her curiously as they reached the foot of the stairs to their rooms. ‘I didn’t think you cared that much about him.’

  Robin made a face. ‘I don’t. I mean I’ve nothing for or against him. I just thought it was rotten to treat him as though he hadn’t worked as hard as we had, just because he’s an orderly.’

  ‘Oh, you’re such snobs, you British! That’s why I like you, kid. You ain’t! I’ll back you up if the fuss starts again. Good on you, anyway. Goodnight, or good morning, or whatever. Remember to phone your Ma, for heaven’s sake.’

  ‘I’ll do better than that,’ Robin said, suddenly energized. ‘Of course I will. Now I’ve got nights off, I’ll go home! There! See you in a few days, Chick!’ And she went hurrying up the stairs feeling much better than she would have thought possible, after such a night of utter hell.

  9

  The house was blissfully quiet when Robin got there and she stood in the hall breathing in the familiar smells of floor polish and brass cleaner and flowers – for there were vases of rich red and bronze chrysanthemums from the garden set on the polished hall tables – and listened. There was a faint clatter of dishes from below and she smiled; dear old Goosey twiddling about at something or other; and then a new scent reached h
er, of baking this time, and her smile widened. The absence of shepherd’s pie and cabbage inside was making itself felt, a little noisily. Goosey would like nothing better than to have someone to feed, and she threw her coat on to the hall stand and dropped her weekend case on the floor and went clattering down to the kitchen to be hugged by a delighted Goosey and fussed over as though she were still three years old. Very agreeable, Robin thought, balm to a wounded soul, and luxuriated in it.

  Not until she had wolfed a great plateful of French toast – for Goosey unearthed a precious egg from her secret hoard – and followed it with vast cups of tea, did she stop to check on the rest of the family. And was amazed to be told that both Poppy and David were at home and fast asleep.

  ‘’Ad a terrible night they did, bless ’em both,’ Goosey said, and sat down at the table herself and poured a cup of tea from the chipped old brown teapot into her favourite cup, which she’d bought long ago on a seaside holiday in Yarmouth and which held fully half a pint. ‘There’s Mr David comes ’ome at seven this mornin’ just as I’m about to get things goin’ and there she is, Mrs Poppy, poor soul, fast asleep on that there chair in the ’all! I ask you! Sleeping on that chair! I said to her, I did, when she goes up to have a bath and I take her a bit o’ breakfast, I told her, that’s no way to take care of yourself to win the war, is it? No matter what’s happened to young Joshy and no matter what they say – ’

  ‘Joshy?’ Robin’s head came up sharply and the sleepiness which had been creeping back disappeared. ‘What about him?’

  Goosey shook her head lugubriously. ‘Done it again, ain’t ’e? Just like last time. Mind you –’ and her attempt to be censorious faltered and vanished, to be replaced by a wide proud grin that showed all too clearly the teeth she no longer had. ‘You got to ‘and it to him. A right young limb ’e is, and clever? They don’t come any cleverer than our Joshy.’