The Soldier's Return Page 5

  ‘Don’t muddy the waters,’ Naomi cut in. ‘Is that what you’re telling me?’

  Unsure how that applied to Ned’s circumstances, Kate frowned. ‘I suppose. I just think it might be better to have the doctors and nurses on our side rather than have them look upon us as trouble. And to pick the thing you think you stand most chance of getting changed.’

  Her lips still pursed, Naomi appeared to be considering her suggestion. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said, her tone one of resignation. ‘Come on, then.’ Turning back towards the street. ‘Let us go and see if it is possible to make an appointment with the doctor. And then we will go home and work out what, precisely, it is that I want him to do.’

  Turning aside, Kate exhaled a long stream of breath: heated confrontation avoided. But oh, so narrowly. ‘Yes,’ she said, setting off alongside Naomi. ‘Let’s do that.’

  * * *

  ‘Kate? Kate! Are you in?’

  Down in the kitchen, Kate murmured her disappointment. From the manner in which the front door had just banged against its frame, and the tone Naomi had used to call to her from the hallway, she could only imagine that the appointment with Ned’s doctor hadn’t gone well. Indeed, when she arrived upstairs, it was to witness Naomi yanking out her hat-pin, tugging off her hat, and plonking it down on the hall table. Feeling something inside of her plummeting, she drew a breath and braced herself. ‘Did it not go well?’

  ‘If by “well”, you mean that the doctor was instantly understanding, helpful and reassuring, then no,’ Naomi replied stiffly. ‘We did not get off to a very good start. If, on the other hand, you mean that eventually, after considerable persistence on my part, we agreed upon a plan for Ned’s care going forward, then yes, I suppose it went well. I just wish that dealing with people in authority wasn’t always such a struggle – that one didn’t have to dig in one’s heels, threaten a scene.’

  Moving to help Naomi from her coat, Kate frowned. ‘No.’

  ‘Anyway, the long and the short of it is that in about two weeks’ time, Ned is going to be brought here to convalesce.’

  Folding Naomi’s mackintosh over her arm, Kate stared back at her. ‘Here? Here in this very house?’ Surely, she had to have misheard. How could Ned come here? This wasn’t a hospital. The two of them weren’t nurses. ‘I don’t—’

  ‘On my way home, I went to see Papa, my first thought being that Ned should be taken there. I mean, as Papa was to point out, Clarence Square would be far more suitable. But then I realized how Mamma would be unable to refrain from interfering and telling everyone what to do, which would hardly be restful for Ned. He would quickly become utterly exasperated. And so should I. But, on the point of abandoning the idea altogether, it occurred to me that we could have him brought here. So—’

  Growing steadily more agitated by what seemed to be Naomi’s blindness to certain facts, Kate could hold back no longer. ‘But Naomi, he needs proper care—’

  ‘He does. Although, as it turns out, not as much as you might think. You see, the doctor told me that one of the reasons he doesn’t go to see Ned every day, is because for a good while yet, there is nothing to be done. The bones in his legs must knit back together and heal, which takes time. And, apparently, that contraption he’s in, is helping to bring that about.’

  ‘So, he just has to lay there and… wait?’

  ‘He does. And once I understood that, I thought to myself well, surely, he can lay in traction in a bed anywhere, can’t he? So why not bring him here? Don’t you see? It’s perfect.’ For a moment, all Kate could do was stare back at Naomi, imagining her to have taken leave of her senses. ‘He can be kept nice and warm – or indeed, cool. He can have decent and nourishing food. But, most of all, he can have company. All of which, taken together, ought surely to help him mend that bit quicker.’

  ‘And the doctor,’ she ventured, hoping to piece together exactly what had gone on, ‘agreed to this… this idea of yours?’

  ‘He did. His only proviso is that we provide proper nursing care.’

  ‘Nursing care? Us?’

  Finally, Naomi relaxed her expression. ‘No, you ninny. Of course not us. That would be ridiculous in the extreme. No. Ned shall have a nurse, night and day. I discussed it with Papa and he is quite happy to cover the cost. He told me to do whatever it takes. And so, I shall. Ned shall have the very best care Papa’s money can buy.’

  Standing in the hallway, Kate tried to blink back her incredulity. Somehow, the idea appeared both perfect and yet, at the same time, utterly mazed – riddled with the sort of pitfalls that were surely beyond them to even imagine until after they had stumbled headlong into them.

  Slowly, she shook her head in disbelief. ‘I see.’

  It was clear, though, that Naomi didn’t share her qualms. Turning about and spotting the day’s post on the side table, she was already heading into the drawing room, examining the handwriting on one of the envelopes as she did so.

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a cup of coffee?’ she called back over her shoulder. ‘Although, please, do only bring me one if we still have some of Mamma’s decent stuff. If that’s all gone, I’ll make do with tea.’

  Left standing in the hallway, Kate continued to shake her head. Ned was going to be brought here, to Hartland Street. Well, it was certainly one way to remove their concerns about his welfare. But could it be made to work? And how? Where would they even put him? And his nurse? And what about the upheaval of it all – who was going to deal with all of that?

  Still reeling, she turned about and began to make her way downstairs. Hang the upheaval! This was Ned they were talking about – Naomi’s twin, and her own half-brother. What better use could there be of Mr Russell’s money than to take care of his son? And what better place could there be for Ned but with his family? Yes, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed not only the obvious solution, but also the right one. Somehow, between her and Naomi – and the nurse she would engage – they would find ways to cope. After all, thanks to this wretched war, coping was something at which they had become reassuringly good.

  Chapter Three

  Upheaval

  ‘Ta-ta, then, love. See ya tomorrer.’

  Stepping out through the door of St. Ursula’s, Kate smiled. She never had managed to fathom how Nell always remained so cheerful. Four years of dealing with the hardships and the suffering of a new set of women at their wits’ end every day was enough to fill anyone with despair. But, no matter the harrowing tales and the wretchedness of the women and children who turned up to plead for help, Nell went through the day with a smile on her lips. And Kate was grateful that she did because it was Nell’s cheeriness that kept her going, too.

  ‘Just so long as the Kaiser don’t send no more of his bombs, you will,’ she replied now to her friend’s observation.

  ‘Yeah, worse when they come at night, ain’t it?’

  Briefly, she held Nell’s look; she wasn’t wrong about that. For the last few nights, and after the largest enemy bombing raid so far, Kate had found it hard to fall asleep for fear that a German shell would come hurtling out of the night sky, smash through the roof, and send the house up in flames. According to reports in the Daily News, German bombs had killed forty-nine people last week alone. And injured almost two hundred more. She never would forgive them for killing those poor little children in their school over in Poplar, nor for destroying an entire wing of Chelsea Hospital. Nor, for that matter, for what they had done to St. Pancras railway station.

  ‘Much worse,’ she belatedly replied to Nell’s observation, ‘though the government would have us believe we’re better protected now than ever – always going on about how we shouldn’t be alarmed.’

  Standing in the doorway, Nell gave a dismissive shake of her head. ‘Spare me! Ever since them new guns of ours started shooting down their Gothas, all the Germans have done is give up coming daytimes to come after dark instead. They might not speak English but that don’t make
’em stupid – they know as well as anyone how once it’s night-time, we can’t see to shoot ’em down.’

  Nell was right about that, too. It had to be more than a week now since any bombs had fallen during the hours of daylight. Distractedly, she agreed. ‘No.’

  ‘Anyway. Don’t let me keep you standin’ about here when you ought to be gettin’ home to your tea—’

  ‘I did ought to be, yes,’ Kate replied, going down the steps to the pavement.

  ‘—and to your Mrs Colborne and her little Esme. Ooh – and your Ned, now, too.’

  She let out a sigh. Ned, yes. By now he should have arrived from the hospital. ‘Well, sleep tight then,’ she said to Nell, looping her handbag over her arm. ‘And I’ll see you next week.’

  Pulling the door closed behind her, Kate set off along Wharf Street. From what she could see between the tops of the buildings it had been a nice afternoon – the perfect blue-sky sort of weather for taking Esme to the park, there being nothing the little girl enjoyed more than toddling about pulling daisies from the grass and feeding the ducks. Sadly, these days, finding the time for outings such as those had become nigh on impossible. It had become hard enough to fit in time for St. Ursula’s – what with everything there was to do at home, and with Naomi’s shifts driving for St. George’s. Only the other day Naomi had remarked how they had become like ships in the night, handing over responsibility for Esme as they passed in the hallway or, on increasingly rare occasions, as they sat down to take luncheon together in the kitchen. And now, with Ned installed, time was bound to become more precious still.

  Halting at the kerb while the number thirty-six omnibus lumbered past, and then weaving her way between two horse-drawn delivery vans in order to cross over Edgware Road, she smiled. The first time she’d made this trip on her own, she’d teetered at the kerb, too terrified of the traffic to step off. Three and a half years ago, that must have been. Heavens, how she had changed. How everything had changed. If you’d told her back then that this godforsaken war – a business they had all been assured would be over and done with inside three or four months – would still be dragging on now, she wouldn’t have thought it possible. Nor would she have believed that having been married to Luke for that same amount of time, she still wouldn’t truly think of herself as a wife. After all, how many women, married for so long, would still be childless? Yes, this war certainly had a lot to answer for – including the number of boot soles she had worn through traipsing to and from Wharf Street!

  When she’d got up this morning, she’d been in two minds about bothering with St. Ursula’s at all today. With everything going on at home, it had seemed beyond her to summon the wherewithal. Indeed, if it hadn’t been for Naomi bullying her into it, she would almost certainly have cried off. As it turned out, she had spent a particularly fruitful few hours helping at least a dozen women with their problems. And of that, she felt proud. Now drawing closer to home, though, that sense of achievement was slowly losing out to concerns about what lay ahead for Ned – well, for all of them, really. She was pleased for him, of course she was, but she was also wary of just how much disruption might be about to descend upon them. In particular, she was worried about the effect it would have upon Naomi; already, she had suggested that she was going to cease volunteering for St. George’s. Added to that, earlier this week, she had also mentioned something about trying to find a governess for Esme so that – to use her actual words – a couple of mornings a week, she would have time to breathe. It had struck Kate as the daft sort of a thing Pamela Russell would say. After all, what on earth did poor little Esme need with a governess?

  Thinking about it again now, she shook her head in dismay. Sometimes, Naomi showed all the signs of turning into her mother. And not in a good way, either.

  Letting herself in through the front door, she was surprised to find the hallway silent: none of the bustle or hospital paraphernalia she had been expecting, and no Esme bounding up to greet her, either. Wary of what might be happening upstairs, she resisted the urge to call out, instead removing her gloves, unbuttoning and removing her jacket, and then unpinning her hat.

  The first person to eventually appear was Naomi. ‘Ah, you’re home,’ she said. ‘Did you have a good afternoon?’

  ‘I did,’ Kate replied. ‘And what about you? Has Ned arrived?’

  Continuing towards her, Naomi nodded. ‘He has, yes. The upheaval seems to have been rather an ordeal for him, but he’s here now.’

  ‘And he’s all right?’ she asked, thinking Naomi’s tone rather flat.

  ‘One can only hope so. His nurse is getting him settled and, as a consequence, has forbidden visitors until tomorrow morning.’

  ‘And Esme?’ she asked, craning to look around the doorway into the drawing room and finding it empty.

  ‘Camped out on the landing, hoping she’ll be allowed in to see him. She won’t be, of course, but she’s doing no harm – especially since she is obeying the nurse’s instruction to keep absolutely quiet.’

  ‘Makes a change.’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘And this nurse, how does she seem?’ Kate asked, bending to unlace her shoes.

  ‘Nurse Hammond? Much like nurses everywhere, I suppose – nursey.’

  ‘Nursey?’

  Glancing towards the stairs, Naomi smothered a laugh. ‘You’ll see for yourself soon enough.’

  ‘I suppose I will. Any road, I’d best go up and change my skirt and then get on with seeing to supper.’

  ‘Yes. And I ought to check on Esme – just in case.’

  In her bedroom moments later, though, the sound of creaking floorboards told Kate that, for some reason, Naomi had followed her on up. Presumably, she had something on her mind. She peered out onto the landing. ‘Everything all right?’ she asked, seeing Naomi arriving at the top of the stairs.

  ‘Perfectly. Esme is sitting there as good as gold.’

  ‘Well, there’s a thing.’ Picturing the mountain of chores awaiting her downstairs, she withheld a sigh. Clearly, Naomi hadn’t gone to the bother of climbing the stairs just to report that all was well. So, what was on her mind? Reaching to the back of the door for her apron, she tied it about her waist. Whatever the matter, she did wish Naomi would get on with it.

  ‘You know, I do regret that you’ve had to move back up here to this little room.’

  This again? In her frustration, Kate groaned. She had been perfectly happy to move back up to her old room and wasn’t in the least put out. Sometimes, she’d felt like a fraud anyway, all on her own in that big room down on the first floor.

  ‘I’ve said to you that I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘And truly, I don’t.’ To support her assertion, she pulled open the door of the tiny wardrobe. ‘Look,’ she went on, indicating her garments hanging from its short rail, ‘my dresses and jackets fit in here just fine.’ Closing the door again, she gestured to the adjacent chest of drawers. ‘And my under things, and my nightgowns and pinafores, are all in there. Truly, Naomi, since I’ve no more belongings now than when I slept up here at the beginning, it’s no bother whatsoever.’

  And anyway, she reflected, there had been no alternative; Ned needed a room large enough to take his hospital-style bedstead, and his nurse needed plenty of space around it to care for him. So, giving up her room had been the only possible answer.

  ‘Well, please know that I regret the inconvenience to you nonetheless,’ Naomi replied, moving across to stand on tiptoes and peer out through the dormer window. ‘It is so very dark up here. And terribly cramped.’

  Unable to help it, Kate sighed. She would say it one final time. ‘Naomi, this room was perfectly all right when I first came to live here, and it will be fine again now. It’s not as though it will be for ever. Once Ned is no longer in traction, then it will be as you said the other day, he’ll be admitted somewhere for reha—, reha—, dear Lord, what the dickens is that word? I never can seem to get my tongue around it.’

  ‘Rehabilitation.’ />
  ‘Yes. That. And, once that comes about, we can put things back the way they were. You said yourself that bringing Ned here to convalesce was always going to mean upheaval. But me having to sleep back up here is no hardship at all and doesn’t alter the fact that bringing Ned here was the right thing to do.’

  Turning back from the window, Naomi gave an appreciative smile. ‘It is the right thing, isn’t it?’

  Reaching to put her hand upon Naomi’s arm, Kate nodded. ‘It is. But now, I really must get downstairs and make a start on supper – we don’t want this Nurse Hammond thinking we run the sort of household where meals are served when-so-ever we feel like it. Best not give her the idea we’re all a-kilter before we even get going!’

  No, she reflected, smoothing a hand over the front of her apron and following Naomi out onto the landing, there was no need for anyone else to know that at all!

  * * *

  It was going to be all right, Kate decided, allowing herself to relax a little: Nurse Hammond wasn’t the stickler she had been fearing. In fact, over supper that first evening, they learned quite a lot that made both her and Naomi warm to the woman. Divulging that she was the youngest of three daughters, her father was a retired doctor, and that, originally, she came from a small village in Hampshire; Nurse Hammond turned out to be as mild-mannered as her rounded face suggested. Neither short nor tall, slim nor fat, there was something about her homeliness that put Kate in mind of her own grandmother, Mabel – albeit Mabel was at least twenty years older.

  ‘I’ve cared for the sick all my life,’ Nurse Hammond replied to an observation from Naomi. ‘It’s all I know how to do. When it comes to cleanliness and following doctor’s orders, you won’t find fault. But it is also my belief that where a patient’s recovery is concerned, it’s good to show them some warmth, too. Their wounds might need nursing care but, as often as not, their hearts and minds need tending, too.’