Liverpool Angels Page 18
Alice explained, ‘I didn’t know she was seeing this American ambulance driver. I … we thought she and Harry Mercer were … close.’
‘I know he writes to her but Mae has said to me that she’s only fond of him, nothing more.’
‘That’s not what he thinks and I really do feel that she’s not treated the poor lad well at all, Lizzie. ’
Lizzie frowned. ‘I suppose it’s not the easiest thing to do, to write and tell someone who’s in the front line that you’ve begun seeing someone else. And things out here are very different to home, as you’ll soon find out. For one thing, often at the end of the day you are so tired it’s an effort to eat let alone write letters of any kind. And I also think that you begin to look at … relationships in a different light. You certainly view the future in a very different way. Don’t be too hard on Mae and don’t let it drive a wedge between you. You’ll regret it if you do; we all value our personal friendships very highly. We need each other to get through each day and you and Mae have always been so close. She doesn’t love Harry, Alice, and she can’t help that. I don’t know if she’s falling in love with Pip but …’ Lizzie shrugged.
‘I just think that she hasn’t been fair to Harry,’ Alice persisted.
‘Maybe she hasn’t, but there are reasons. Just don’t let that come between you, Alice,’ Lizzie urged once more. ‘I’m older than you both so maybe I see things differently.’
Alice nodded, thinking about everything Lizzie had said. Perhaps Lizzie was right – she was older and wiser; but that still didn’t stop Alice feeling upset and annoyed with Mae.
When she reported for duty Sister Harper informed her that she was to work on wards four, five and six with Mae, except of course when there was a convoy in, when everyone was required.
One of their first tasks was to make up the hypochlorous acid solution which was used to wash out infected wounds.
‘Eusol, we call it,’ Mae told her cousin as the solution was funnelled into big glass demi-johns.
‘It stinks!’ Alice said, pulling a face. ‘It’s like … chlorate of lime.’
‘You’ll get used to it. What you never seem to get used to is the smell of gas gangrene.’
‘Does this stuff work?’ Alice enquired, still wrinkling her nose.
‘Sometimes. Sometimes the gangrene has spread too far and then the limb has to be amputated, but it does help in a lot of cases,’ Mae informed her as she wiped her hands. ‘But only if the wound is washed out with it every three hours day and night.’
‘Thank God Jimmy’s wound was clean,’ Alice remarked as she followed Mae out on to the ward to start work.
It wasn’t until that evening that she managed to find a few spare minutes and after hastily swallowing a mug of tea and a sandwich she made her way to ward seven.
‘I’m looking for a Private James Mercer. I grew up with him, Staff,’ she informed the staff nurse on duty.
‘Fourth bed on the right side, miss,’ the woman replied curtly, pointing down the ward.
Alice peered down the gloomy interior of the tent and nodded. ‘Thank you, Staff.’ When her back was turned she raised her eyes skywards. ‘Miss’ indeed, she thought. Some of these Regular Army nurses flatly refused to call the VADs ‘Nurse’, so jealous were they of their own positions and titles and thinking that girls from her background and with only months’ training were not really qualified. Maybe their attitude would change in time, she thought, but then again maybe not.
‘I see you’ve managed to get yourself a nice cosy billet, Jimmy!’ Alice greeted him, smiling. He was sitting up in bed, his right arm heavily bandaged and in a sling, and he looked pale and tired.
He looked at her blankly for a second and then he grinned broadly, delighted to see a familiar face from home. ‘Alice! Alice, what the hell are you doing here?’
‘That’s a nice way to greet anyone, Jimmy Mercer, I must say! I’ve given up my few minutes’ break to come and see how you are.’
‘When … how … ?’ Jimmy stammered, completely fazed at seeing her here.
‘I arrived yesterday and I’m working with Mae on wards four, five and six, and don’t you go saying anything to that poker-faced one back there about me only being seventeen. She wasn’t impressed that I’m only a VAD as it is. How did you manage to get wounded?’
Jimmy had regained his composure. ‘Stupid really, I was passing Mills bombs – hand grenades – to our Harry and the others and got a Boche bullet in my arm. We were involved in a bit of a skirmish with them and were firing over the parapet,’ he explained.
‘At least you had it attended to before it got infected. I’ve seen the mess some of the lads are in when they finally get to us.’
He nodded, still trying to take in the fact that she was actually here. ‘I never thought you’d be able to persuade your mam to let you come over. She does know, Alice?’
‘Of course she knows! She had to give her written consent to the sister at Walton. I got really annoyed that I was stuck there when I wanted to be here, where I’m of more use – although there’s some here that wouldn’t agree,’ she added caustically, glaring down the ward in the direction of the staff nurse.
Jimmy’s admiration for her increased. Somehow she’d managed to get both her mam’s and the authorities’ consent to come out to nurse, he didn’t know how, but he’d always known she had guts and determination.
‘I’ll write to your mam tonight and tell her I’ve seen you and not to worry, that you’re doing fine. How are the rest of them? Our Eddie, your Harry and Tommy?’ Alice asked to change the subject.
‘As well as can be expected, I suppose.’
‘Our Eddie isn’t showing any signs of having a relapse, is he? I know what the conditions are like, Jimmy. Mae’s told me.’
‘No, he’s all right and the weather has improved a bit lately. I thought your Mae was still on the hospital trains. Eddie said she was. He saw her in Boulogne.’
‘She was transferred here two weeks ago.’ She paused. ‘How … how did your Harry take it about Mae and Pip Middlehurst?’ she asked cautiously.
‘Mae and who?’ Jimmy asked, a look of complete mystification on his face.
Alice was surprised. ‘Eddie didn’t tell you?’
‘Tell me what, for God’s sake?’
Alice sighed, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut; she’d been as sure as Mae that Eddie would have told Harry. ‘She’s become quite … very friendly with an ambulance driver. His name is Phillip Middlehurst but everyone calls him Pip, apparently. He’s American. I think you can say they are walking out – or they were, but he’s been sent to Verdun. I only found out last night and I certainly don’t approve of the way she’s treated Harry and I told her so. She couldn’t go up the line to see him, so she had to write to him.’
Jimmy silently digested this. Mae would have met this Pip when she was nursing on the trains. Everyone had great respect for the drivers of the American Field Ambulances. They’d travelled thousands of miles, leaving the safety and comfort of their homes to undertake the sometimes dangerous work of moving the wounded. He knew how his brother felt about Mae but he’d always thought that she really didn’t reciprocate those feelings, and as far as he knew Mae hadn’t agreed to walk out with his brother. Oh, she wrote to him and Harry wrote to her but then Alice wrote to him. ‘Our Harry’s been sweet on Mae for ages but … but I think she doesn’t really …’ He was struggling for words.
‘She doesn’t love him, Jimmy. Both Mae and Lizzie told me that. She likes him a lot, the way she likes you and our Eddie, of course, but I think she’s fallen for this Pip Middlehurst.’
Jimmy frowned as he considered what Alice had just told him about Mae and Harry. His brother hadn’t mentioned that he’d had a letter from Mae and he knew Harry would have been upset by this news, but then the mail might have arrived after he’d been wounded and brought here. ‘I’m saying nothing about it, Alice, not until our Harry does. After all, none of us know what’
s going to happen to us tomorrow.’
Alice nodded her agreement; what he said made sense. No one knew when this terrible war would end or who would survive it. But she still couldn’t help feeling upset with Mae.
The staff nurse had risen to her feet and was looking pointedly at her watch and Alice realised that she would have to go. ‘I’ve got to get back now, Jimmy, she’s giving me daggers.’
He looked disappointed. ‘But you’ll be able to come and see me again, Alice? Or maybe I could come to see you. I’ll be up and about tomorrow.’
‘Don’t you go making an “instant” recovery, Jimmy, or they’ll have you back up the line before that arm is fully healed. No, I’ll brave old frosty-features and I’ll come and see you when I can,’ Alice promised. She was relieved that he appeared to be well and in good spirits.
‘I’ll look forward to seeing you.’ Jimmy grinned. He felt much more cheerful. He’d always liked Alice, and he liked her more now, he thought; she really seemed to have grown up. He wasn’t even as fed up about not getting back to Blighty as he had been. It really wasn’t so bad here: his arm didn’t seem as painful and Alice – and probably Mae too – would visit him; Alice McEvoy would be a match for Staff Nurse Thomas any day, he mused happily. He wouldn’t even have to write to his mam; Alice had promised to do that too. Yes, you could rely on Alice.
True to her word Alice visited Jimmy whenever she could and as soon as he felt able they walked around the compound and even as far as the edge of the sand dunes, if time permitted. The weather was gradually improving and the sunlight sparkling on the waters of the Channel lifted their spirits, these moments a brief respite from the rather depressing atmosphere of the hospital where it was impossible to escape the effects of war.
‘They might even let you come and take a dip in the sea in summer, Alice,’ Jimmy had teased one day when the water had reflected the blueness of the sky.
‘I wouldn’t fancy it, I bet it’s freezing. Whenever we went to New Brighton, no matter how hot and sunny the weather was the water was always cold,’ Alice had replied, thinking back to the infrequent day trips she’d made to the seaside re-sort as a child. ‘How is your arm today? Any pain or stiffness at all?’
Jimmy had shaken his head. ‘Maybe the odd twinge if I try to lift anything heavy.’
She nodded. ‘That sounds about right but in time you’ll find it won’t bother you.’
‘You sound just like Sister.’
Alice had laughed but then Jimmy had become serious. ‘They’ll discharge me soon, Alice, and I’ll have to go back.’
‘I know. It doesn’t seem right, but …’
‘But I am in one piece and able to fight and it’s my duty. I took the oath for King and Country, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to going back up the line.’
Alice had felt as though a dark cloud had crossed the sun and involuntarily she had shivered. She’d miss the time she spent with him; she looked forward to it and she knew he did too. They’d always got on well together but since he’d been here they’d grown closer.
‘It might not be for a few weeks yet,’ she had thought aloud; then, trying to sound more cheerful, she’d added, ‘Just don’t go stopping any more Boche bullets. Now we’d better get back before they send out a search party and Sister Harper hauls me over the coals.’
She thought about that day now as she stood at the gate to the hospital compound, waiting to say goodbye to him as she’d promised. He’d only had another week before they’d told him he was being sent back to his battalion. She wished he didn’t have to go for in her heart she was afraid for him. There was talk that when summer came there would be a concerted attempt to ‘push’ the enemy back and that would mean more fatalities and casualties. She only had a quarter of an hour break and he’d have to march off with the others who were now fit to rejoin their units, so she’d arranged to meet him here a few minutes before the men assembled.
At last she caught sight of him coming towards her, his heavy pack on his back, his tin helmet hanging from its strap over one arm, his rifle in the crook of the other. He looked well, she thought, he had colour in his cheeks now, he’d put some weight back on, his uniform was new, his boots polished.
‘I’d almost forgotten how damned heavy this pack is,’ he said, gratefully easing it from his shoulders on to the ground. There were a few minutes yet before the bugle would sound for assembly. He looked down at her and smiled, trying desperately to hide his feelings. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to have to face again the hardships and the danger, and fear was already gnawing at his guts, but most of all he didn’t want to leave her.
‘Well, off I go again. At least the lads will be glad to see me back and I’ve got some ciggies for them. I know you don’t get much free time but will you write, Alice? When things quieten down they bring the mail up the line.’
‘Of course I will and … and will you do something for me, Jimmy? Keep an eye on our Eddie. I dread him getting ill again.’
‘We all watch out for each other, Alice, you know that, we’re mates. I’ll give you a detailed account of his health when I write, if that will help.’
Alice laughed. ‘Oh, stop that. You know what I mean. I’ll write with all the news from here – such as it is – and from home. Mam has more time to write than your mam does. She’s always saying the house is so quiet now with us all over here.’
Jimmy nodded. ‘Mam’s got her hands full with the shop, our Lucy and Gran, who’s getting very confused now.’
The first notes of a bugle rang out and Alice bit her lip, steeling herself. ‘You’ll have to go now, Jimmy. Please take care of yourself.’
‘I will.’ He hesitated for a second, then he bent and kissed her. ‘I’ll miss you, Alice. I’m very … fond of you, you know. You’re a great girl.’
Alice felt her heart turn over and she reached out and gently touched his cheek. ‘Look after yourself, Jimmy. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,’ she said quietly.
The notes of the bugle became louder, the call more insistent, and Alice forced herself to be cheerful. It was something that Sister had instilled in her. Cheerfulness and optimism at all times. Men going back wanted to be sent off with smiles and waves, not tears and long faces. ‘Off you go, Jimmy. I’ll write but I don’t want to see you back here ever again as a patient.’
He managed to grin back although desolation was sweeping over him. ‘With a bit of luck you won’t, Alice. Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye, Jimmy. Give my love to Eddie,’ she called, waving as he walked away towards the assembling ranks. Then she turned and surreptitiously wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. Would she ever see him again? she wondered. She prayed she would – but not here, please God, not here.
Mae knew how her cousin was feeling for she’d watched Alice grow closer to Jimmy during the time he’d been at the hospital and knew that Alice was missing him. Alice’s attitude towards her had gradually thawed during that time and she’d been very relieved for her cousin’s disapproval had only added to her despondency. Alice had told her that Eddie hadn’t in fact told Harry about Pip and that he wasn’t going to tell his brother either so she still had that to worry about. She’d had the occasional note from Pip but she had no idea when he would return. The French were still holding out at Verdun although their losses were crippling.
The days had lengthened and grown warmer and a light summer breeze was wafting over the sand dunes as she stood staring out at the sea. The June evenings were long and despite the weariness she always felt at the end of the day she’d sought the solace and quiet of a walk by the sea. She wished they’d send Pip back. She knew she was being selfish for he was needed more at Verdun and Revigny, just as she was needed here, but she knew now that she loved him: life was so empty without him. It was also so hard to think that across those few miles of calm blue water there were no battles or skirmishes, but there were plenty of casualties. Every hospital in Britain was filled with the
m and still there was no end in sight at all. At the end of May there had been a huge naval battle off the Danish coast at Jutland. The expectation had been that the superior British fleet would blast that of the Kaiser out of the water, for hadn’t Britannia Ruled the Waves for centuries? Wasn’t the Royal Navy invincible? The great victory hadn’t materialised, she thought dully, but there had been no outright defeat either. Even that confrontation appeared to have ended in stalemate. There had been terrible loss of life on both sides, dreadnoughts torn apart by exploding ammunition, battleships sinking in minutes, their crews drowned. The wounded had stood no chance in the cold waters of the North Sea, just as her poor da had stood no chance in the stokehold of the Lusitania. She shivered despite the warmth of the evening and turned her steps back towards the hospital compound. She’d thought that some time alone would make her feel better but it hadn’t. It was almost impossible to escape the war although when she was with Pip they never talked about it; somehow it always receded into the background.
The flap of the tent was pinned back allowing the warm evening air to enter, and Alice was sitting at the rickety table finishing a letter to Jimmy; his letter, which had arrived that afternoon, lay on the table beside her.
‘Has he anything interesting to say? Are they all well?’ Mae asked, sitting on the edge of her bed and beginning to unpin her hair.
‘They all seem to be fine but he’s talking about there being “something big” coming up soon.’
Mae nodded. ‘I’ve heard that too on the wards, and this morning Sister was going through all the notes and asking Dr Nicol how many patients did he think could possibly be sent back to Blighty. It looks as though they’re trying to clear the place.’
Alice frowned. ‘I suppose it had to come. They couldn’t just spend the rest of the year stuck in those trenches; that doesn’t seem to have achieved anything so far.’
Mae sighed. ‘I suppose they’ll tell us when they think we should know.’
‘Mae, there’s someone asking for you,’ Lizzie announced as she entered the tent, just having come off duty.