Liverpool Angels Page 23

  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.

  ‘Mae said we were mad to go all that way for a decent afternoon tea,’ Alice confided to Lizzie as they arrived back in Boulogne one afternoon in mid-October.

  ‘But it certainly was worth it,’ Lizzie said with satisfaction. They’d heard that the Pré Catelan further up the coast, actually served full English-style afternoon teas with unchlorinated water, cream and even jam for the scones and so they’d organised a lift there and back on their afternoon off.

  ‘It was absolutely delicious!’ Alice enthused. ‘Although it was a bit pricy and I don’t think we’d be as lucky with our lift in future, so we won’t be doing it regularly.’ The whole area was now a vast military zone so there was always the chance of a lift in some type of vehicle.

  ‘I thought it was very good of Surgeon Major Fawcett to give us a lift in a staff car no less, even though Matron would kill us if she knew,’ Lizzie added, for nurses were forbidden to be seen out in the company of any officer. The wounded officers had their own wards, separate from NCOs and other ranks, for the rigid class system even extended to the field hospitals.

  ‘We did tell him it was a special treat as it was your birthday, Lizzie, and mine in a few weeks, and he was intending to drive up the coast anyway this afternoon to visit a Canadian doctor friend.’

  ‘That wouldn’t have cut any ice with Matron, Alice, and you know it. We’re still in her very bad books over the length of our skirts.’

  Alice nodded. Both she and Mae had been severely castigated by Sister and Matron over that – Matron had been furious and utterly scandalised and had actually called them ‘immoral’ – but it hadn’t taken long before Lizzie and two other girls had shortened theirs. It was just so much easier to work. She grinned. ‘But it was greatly appreciated by the patients, Lizzie.’

  Lizzie laughed. Although she was six years older than Alice, Lizzie admired her tenacity.

  ‘Well, if a glimpse of a couple of inches of black woollen stocking can make them feel better, after what they’ve been through, I don’t see the harm in it. And we’ll have to start thinking about what we can do to cheer them up for Christmas. It’s not all that far away.’ They’d reached the entrance to one of the big yards where the horses and mules used to transport supplies and ammunition up the lines of trenches were stabled, and Lizzie frowned, catching sight of a soldier waving frantically at them. ‘Do you know that chap, Alice? I think he’s coming over to us.’

  Alice peered intently into the yard and then her eyes widened. ‘It’s our Eddie! What on earth is he doing in there?’

  ‘Alice, I was going to get a note to you, to let you know I’m stationed here now.’ Eddie pointed over his shoulder into the yard, grinning broadly.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Alice asked, still surprised at seeing him.

  ‘I’ve been transferred. I’m not going back to the battalion – not yet anyway. They’ve been amalgamated into another division and they were very shorthanded here, and maybe someone somewhere thought it was time I deserved a change.’

  ‘But you don’t know one end of a horse from the other!’ Alice exclaimed.

  ‘I’m learning,’ Eddie shot back.

  A sergeant wearing a leather farrier’s apron over his uniform and looking decidedly grim appeared behind Eddie. ‘Well, you won’t learn very much standing there chatting up the girls, lad! I thought I told you when you’d finished cleaning harnesses you were to start to grease axles?’

  ‘But this is my sister, sergeant,’ Eddie explained. He was rather in awe of this Regular Army man who seemed to know everything possible about the animals he worked with.

  ‘Oh, aye, I’m, sure!’ came the frankly sceptical reply.

  ‘I am his sister, sir! VAD Nurse Alice McEvoy, General Camp Hospital Twenty-four,’ Alice retorted. ‘And this is VAD Nurse Elizabeth Lawson, same hospital. It’s our afternoon off.’

  His attitude softened a little; he had the greatest respect for all the nursing staff. ‘Sorry, ladies, but he’s got work to do.’

  ‘Can I just have a few more moments, Sergeant, please?’ Eddie pleaded.

  He nodded curtly. ‘Five minutes, that’s all. I want to see you hard at work after that, lad, no slacking,’ he emphasised as he strode away.

  Alice smiled at him, relieved. ‘So they didn’t send you back up the line, Eddie. Mam will be delighted to hear that.’

  ‘I’m delighted myself, Alice. It’s great here. I don’t mind the work, the food isn’t too bad, the other lads are showing me the ropes and best of all I’ve even found myself a spot up in a corner of the hayloft where it’s warm and dry. It’s all a damned sight better than being stuck in a dugout with nothing but bits of corrugated iron or wood to keep out the weather, especially now it’s getting cold. Of course when there are supplies to be moved it’s hard work, out in the rain and wind, and when the carts get bogged down in the mud, it can be tough on the animals and us, but …’ He shrugged, thinking anything was better than being in the front-line trenches, exposed to the elements and living with the constant te
rror of being wounded again or … worse.

  ‘And you really don’t mind working with horses and mules? I’d be terrified being so close, they’re so … unpredictable!’ Lizzie confided.

  Alice suddenly realised she was being remiss. ‘Oh, sorry, Eddie, this is Lizzie. We’ve been out for afternoon tea.’

  ‘Oh, get the pair of you!’ Eddie replied but he was smiling at the dark-haired, attractive girl standing beside his sister. ‘Nice to meet you, Lizzie.’

  ‘And you, Eddie. I’ve heard a lot about you. Alice and Mae think you deserve a medal. I take it your arm has healed now?’

  Eddie nodded, looking a bit embarrassed. ‘Our Alice would think anyone who helped Jimmy Mercer deserves a medal.’

  Alice ignored him. ‘Knowing you, you won’t have written to Mam yet so I will.’

  ‘I’ve only been here a week, Alice,’ Eddie protested.

  Again Alice ignored him. ‘And we’ll be able to see you when we come into town – providing you’re not moving supplies – so I can keep her informed, save her worrying.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to that, Alice,’ Eddie replied, thinking he’d like to get to know Lizzie better. She looked very pleasant although she was obviously older than Alice, but then every nurse was older than his sister.

  ‘Perhaps we can go and have coffee at that café Mae and Pip like so much,’ Alice suggested.

  Eddie was very doubtful. ‘I don’t know about that, Alice. I’m still a serving soldier and even though things are fairly quiet, the war hasn’t stopped.’

  ‘Well, there’s Christmas to look forward to in the not-too-distant future. Wouldn’t it be great if we could spend a bit of time together then – all of us? Mae and Pip included,’ Lizzie added. Alice had never mentioned that her brother was such a handsome lad and she admired him; she thought he was very brave.

  Reluctantly Eddie turned away. ‘I’ll have to go, I don’t want to get on the wrong side of Sergeant Walker already. He might decide he can do without me.’

  ‘You mind you stay out of the way of all those hooves,’ Alice advised, smiling and waving her hand as she and Lizzie walked off.

  Eddie returned to his duties, thinking himself very fortunate. It would indeed be great if at Christmas he could spend an hour with Alice and Mae and Pip and Lizzie: it would take his mind off the people who wouldn’t be there this year; but even if it wasn’t possible it was something to know that he’d be safe and reasonably comfortable this Christmas.

  As December approached the weather worsened. Heavy frosts turned the ground iron hard and Eddie, huddled up in blankets, burrowed deeper into the hay and thanked God he was not freezing in a dugout. It was impossible for men to be kept out longer than forty-eight hours in weather such as this and in the hospitals the cases of frostbite, trench foot, severe, crippling rheumatism and bronchitis began to outnumber men wounded in the skirmishes which still took place.

  Alice and Mae and the other nurses were suffering too as dense icy fogs swirled in from the Channel.

  ‘We’re all going to be exhausted again, there’s so many coming in now, and I’m going down with a cold, I know.’ Alice sniffed as she stood before the small stove in the tent, shivering. In addition to their duties they now had to massage their patients’ badly affected feet for fifteen minutes twice every day.

  ‘Here, put this on and then put your greatcoat over it,’ Mae instructed, holding out a heavy knitted cardigan Maggie had sent.

  ‘Thanks. This stove is useless. My front is warm but my back is frozen!’ Alice complained, rubbing her chapped, numbed hands together.

  ‘It’s the men I feel so sorry for,’ Mae mused, handing both her companions a mug of hot tea each. ‘It doesn’t seem to help much, rubbing their poor feet with oil and putting thick fishermen’s socks on them, the damage has been done in the trenches. Standing for hours and hours in freezing mud, their feet soaking wet and numb with cold – and those puttees don’t help, they’re bound too tight and they get wet and then cut off what little circulation there is. Some of the men have lost toes with frostbite and there’s one lad on ward six whose feet are just two enormous chilblains. He can’t walk.’

  ‘There’s one on ward five who can’t walk because he just can’t feel his feet, they’re totally numb, and he’s not the only one,’ Lizzie added.

  ‘Oh, a fine Christmas this is going to be if it’s going to stay as cold as this,’ Alice said glumly.

  ‘Come on, Alice, let’s try to be cheerful,’ Mae urged. ‘We’ll be able to decorate the wards – there’s plenty of holly and stuff growing outside the villages – and there will be parcels from home.’

  ‘I heard Sister saying that she read there’s simply tons of stuff at the Channel ports that people at home have donated for the troops, just waiting to be shipped over,’ Lizzie informed them, gratefully sipping her tea despite its taste.

  ‘If the damned fog ever lifts,’ Alice put in gloomily.

  ‘So we should all have some home comforts. Aunty Maggie said she’s sending more woollens and chocolate and shortbread. I think I’ll take some of that into Monsieur Clari, I know he’s very partial to it,’ Mae said.

  ‘Do you think Eddie will be able to get an hour off on Christmas Eve, Alice?’ Lizzie enquired, for Mae and Pip had already asked Monsieur to save them a table and he had readily agreed. Lizzie had managed to exchange a few words with Eddie last time she and Alice had braved the weather and gone into town, and they were all looking forward to a festive couple of hours at the Café Arc-en-ciel. They’d already sought Sister’s permission for the time off.

  Alice forced a smile. ‘I hope so. Part of me wishes Jimmy were still over here.’ Then she frowned. ‘On second thoughts I’m glad he’s not. He’d be stuck out there in this terrible weather. Thank God Eddie’s not.’

  As Christmas approached the fog lifted and the nurses, braving the severe cold, went out into the surrounding countryside to collect holly and ivy which they used to decorate the wards. The amount of food and comforts now being shipped across the Channel was staggering; crates were piled high on the dockside and everyone knew that there would be a lot more Christmas cheer this year for the troops. There was very little fighting because of the weather and the fact that the Germans had withdrawn to their heavily fortified Hindenburg Line, and apart from the discomfort the weather inflicted everyone was looking forward to the festive season.

  On Christmas Eve, as the three girls set out for the town, heavily muffled against the cold, it started to snow. Pip had managed to come to pick them up and they were all thankful they wouldn’t have to walk.

  ‘Will we all fit in?’ Mae asked as he kissed her on the bit of her cheek that wasn’t shrouded by a thick muffler.

  ‘I guess it will be a bit of a squeeze but we’ll be okay. I just hope I can get you all back again; the snow’s getting heavier and there’s a strong wind behind it.’

  ‘Oh, it shouldn’t settle too much here by the coast, there’s too much salt in the air,’ Lizzie said airily, determined to enjoy the evening and not think about getting back or the fact that they might have to walk.

  ‘Did you see Eddie?’ Mae asked Pip, for he’d been detailed to find out if her brother had been granted leave.

  ‘I did. He was just finishing bedding down the last of the mules. He was going to get a wash and then walk down to the café. I think we’re all looking forward to the evening. Lenny’s meeting us there too; I couldn’t leave him out, now could I?’

  ‘So there will be quite a little party of us,’ Lizzie said happily.

  It was snowing heavily when they all trooped inside the café where Eddie and Pip’s friend and companion Lenny were waiting. Mae passed over the shortbread biscuits that had come in Maggie’s parcel to Monsieur and they were received with delight and effusive thanks by their host.

  The café was crowded with local residents who all raised their glasses and wished them ‘Joyeux Noël!’ and they reciprocated in fairly good French.

&n
bsp; ‘As I might not get to see you tomorrow, Mae, I’d better give you this now,’ Pip announced, taking a box from his pocket. ‘Happy Christmas, darling.’

  Mae smiled fondly at him while Alice and Lizzie impatiently urged her to open it. Inside the box was a gold brooch shaped as a bird with seed pearls for eyes.

  ‘Oh, thank you, Pip! It will look lovely on the lapel of my coat,’ Mae said shyly. ‘I didn’t know what to get you so … so I hope you like this.’ She handed over a small packet wrapped in tissue paper. She’d racked her brains wondering what to get him but had finally found a cigarette case made of tortoiseshell, which she thought looked smart.

  ‘Lizzie and Mae and I decided to wait until tomorrow to give each other our gifts,’ Alice told Eddie as Pip thanked Mae, kissing her on the cheek. ‘But I got you a good penknife; it’s got a thing for taking stones out of hooves so I thought it would be very useful,’ she added, passing Eddie the gift.

  ‘And I bought you this, Eddie,’ Lizzie said a little awkwardly, wondering if she wasn’t being a bit too forward.

  Eddie was surprised but pleased as he unwrapped Lizzie’s gift. ‘It’s a Vesta case!’ he exclaimed delightedly, examining the little carved box in which matches were kept.

  ‘It’s not ivory. The man I bought it from said he thought it’s made from whalebone,’ Lizzie told him.

  ‘It’s beautifully carved just the same, Lizzie, thanks. Thanks so much.’ He delved into his pocket and passed her a little flat packet. ‘Nothing nearly as … grand, but …’

  Alice smiled at him. She knew what was in the packet: two fine lawn handkerchiefs edged with French lace – he’d asked her to buy them for him to give Lizzie. She had Jimmy’s gift, which had arrived with their parcels earlier in the week, safely stored in the sugar box by her bed ready to open tomorrow morning.

  ‘I didn’t expect anything but they’re beautiful, Eddie. I’ll keep them for best, thanks,’ Lizzie replied, thinking she wouldn’t use them at all. They were far too delicate and rather special.