The G.I. Bride Page 3

  ‘I see. And you definitely would like to leave us?’

  ‘Oh no, not at all. But . . .’ She stopped, unsure what to say.

  ‘No need to say any more, April. I understand perfectly. I was left orphaned by the Great War and wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if it hadn’t been for my aunts and uncles. Let me make enquiries, and I will let you know.’

  Chapter 2

  November 1941

  April was making her way to the hospital cloakroom early one morning after a long night shift when she was stopped by matron.

  ‘Good news, Nurse Harvey. It’s all arranged. Your transfer to the Royal Cornwall Infirmary is confirmed and you can leave within the next two weeks.’

  April, who over the past few months had found herself sinking ever deeper into despair, looked up in surprise.

  ‘Really, matron? I can leave soon?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve sent my reference to the matron there – and let me tell you it is glowing; I have been so impressed with your fortitude and your professionalism during this trying time – and she is expecting you at the beginning of December. They will sort out accommodation for you, and let you know on arrival. Now, nurse, you have one week left to work here, then a week to get down to Cornwall and settle in before reporting for duty. How does that sound?’

  ‘Oh, it sounds wonderful. Thank you so much.’

  ‘Are we that bad, eh, Nurse Harvey, that you can’t wait to leave us?’ Matron’s eyes glinted with humour, but even so, April flushed with guilt.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean . . .’

  Matron laughed. ‘It’s all right, I know what you meant. Now, off with you, nurse, and get some sleep. You have a busy time ahead.’

  ‘Thank you, matron.’

  *

  April fairly flew home on her bicycle that morning, all her tiredness forgotten. Maybe once she left this place that reminded her so much of her father and her happy times with Theo, she would stop having the terrible nightmares that forced her awake night after night. Always the same dream: her house burning, her father’s terrified face at the window, and all around the sound of the air-raid siren wailing. She shook her head, determined not to think of that now. Instead she thought of how wonderful it would be to tell Mrs Osborne she was leaving. The relationship between them had become even frostier since Theo’s visit in August, and she hoped that this news might lighten the atmosphere until she left.

  When she got back, she was pleased to see that both the reverend and Mrs Osborne were in the kitchen having breakfast.

  ‘Good morning, Reverend Osborne, Mrs Osborne. I have some news. I’m pleased to say that matron has just told me that I have a position at the Royal Cornwall Infirmary, starting in two weeks, so I will be leaving you at last.’

  Mrs Osborne looked up from her tea and toast. ‘Well, that is good news. Isn’t it, Theodore?’

  The reverend smiled at April, looking so like Theo, April had to look away. ‘We shall be very sorry to lose you, April. It’s been an absolute pleasure to have you with us, hasn’t it, Bella?’

  Mrs Osborne said nothing, merely inclined her head.

  ‘And I know Theo loved having you here when he was home. Always nice to have another young person about, don’t you think?’

  April thought back to the awkward week she had spent when Theo was home, and most particularly to the bewildering last evening. Theo had not minded at all that she was sleeping in his bedroom but even so, she had taken on as many extra shifts at the hospital as she could manage to try to avoid him. But on that last evening, they had found themselves alone together sitting on the sofa in front of the fire talking.

  ‘April, I’ve been wanting to say since I came home how sorry I am about what happened before I went away.’

  April had looked at him in discomfort. This was the last thing she wanted to be reminded of when Theo was sitting there, looking so handsome and relaxed. He still made her heart beat faster every time he walked in a room, and this past week, having him in the same house had been torture. She’d so longed to recapture their previous easy relationship. To laugh and talk with him as they’d once done. And yes, she admitted, she longed to kiss him again too. She’d realised then, with a sinking heart, that she still loved him. Maybe she always would.

  She swallowed. ‘Never mind all that, Theo. The most important thing is that you’re safe for now, and home. I hope that you and Charlotte will be very happy together.’

  ‘That’s just it, April. Being home and seeing you every day has made me think. Charlotte is wonderful, of course, but sometimes I find myself remembering how it was, just you and me, and the fun we used to have. We’ve known each other almost all our lives, and I think you probably know me better than anyone else.’ He took her hand and looked into her eyes. ‘And I think I know you better than anyone too. I miss that. I miss our closeness and how comfortable we were together. How we could sit together and not need to say a word because, well, we just fit, somehow.’

  ‘But last time we spoke, you said I was just a childhood crush. What’s changed?’

  ‘I suppose I have. Being away from home, fighting . . . thinking about you every single day. Not Charlotte, always you. And this might be my last chance to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you, and how I think I was wrong.’

  April shook her head. ‘You hurt me so badly, Theo. This last year has been the worst of my life. I lost you and then I lost Dad, and I’m not sure I can trust you again. I can’t take any more loss, Theo, so please don’t say things you might not mean.’

  ‘I would never want to hurt you, April. You are far too precious to me. All I know is that I miss you. Sometimes I wish . . .’ He stopped and looked at her wistfully.

  April stared back. She didn’t want to hope, and she didn’t want to have her heart broken again by this man who seemed unable to make up his mind between two girls.

  ‘I wish I’d never met Charlotte. I think I got confused,’ he whispered. ‘I understand if you can’t trust me straightaway. All I ask is that you write to me. Who knows what the future holds, or whether we even have a future. I still . . . well, what I’m trying to say is that I still love you.’

  ‘Theo, I . . .’ April had spent enough time getting over her heartbreak and now she was dealing with the grief of her father’s death. The thought that Theo might still love her made her heart leap, but also made her fearful. She wasn’t sure she could take any more heartache. ‘You must know, my feelings haven’t changed, and it’s true: life is short. Goodness knows, I see enough grief and heartache in my job. I will write to you. But please, Theo, don’t play with my feelings. If this is friendship, then so be it, but don’t make me love you again.’

  ‘That’s all I ask, my darling. And rest assured, my feelings for you go way beyond friendship.’ He leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips. April drew back in surprise. ‘Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You look so lovely with your golden hair shining in the firelight. Say you didn’t mind.’

  Unable to resist him, April leaned forward. ‘I didn’t mind, Theo,’ she whispered. And this time she kissed him back. He pulled her closer and though she enjoyed the contact, she was also aware that something had changed. Once, when he’d kissed her, her heart would be singing; this time, though, at the back of her mind was the uneasy feeling that something wasn’t quite right. She couldn’t help but doubt his feelings for her and she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to love him in the same way again.

  Theo drew back and stroked her cheek. ‘Darling April. I knew I could count on you. You are my shelter from the stormy blast.’ He grinned. ‘What a thing to say! You can tell I’m a vicar’s son! But you know what I mean. With you, I feel I can truly be myself.’

  Before she could reply, a sudden ‘Excuse me’ had them jumping apart guiltily. Mrs Osborne was standing in the doorway.

  ‘I think it’s time you were in bed, April, don’t you? You have an early start in the morning, and I’d like to
spend these last few hours alone with my son.’

  April jumped up. ‘Yes, of course. Good night, Theo. I don’t think I’ll see you before I leave in the morning, but I will write to you. Good night, Mrs Osborne.’

  And she’d left. But ever since that night, Mrs Osborne, when she’d talked to her at all, had spoken only about Charlotte and her accomplishments. April had done her very best never to be caught alone with her. The thought of leaving this difficult atmosphere made April feel lighter than she had in months. And who knows, she thought, in a few week’s time I might have some family of my very own.

  She was brought back from her thoughts by Reverend Osborne. ‘Now, April, is there anything you need for your new life? I know the Women’s Voluntary Service has provided you with some clothes, and that lovely warm winter coat, but is there anything else?’

  ‘Thank you, reverend, but I think I have sufficient. You can only wear one set of clothes at a time, and the WVS has been so generous. I could never have afforded to buy enough clothes with my coupons.’

  ‘Very well, my dear. I must get on, but we will have a special farewell supper for you, shall we not, Bella?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure the Belgians can rustle something up. Though, on the rations we have, it won’t be that special, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That would be lovely.’ April forced a smile. Although, she thought sourly, if I was Charlotte, I bet Mrs Osborne would have managed to find a little something special.

  Oh stop it, April, she said to herself. You sound like a very bitter woman.

  Chapter 3

  December 1941

  Two weeks later, after a long and arduous train journey in a freezing and cramped carriage that had included a hold-up of several hours due to sheep on the line, April arrived in Truro.

  As she walked out of the station, she looked around, hoping to recognise something. But nothing looked familiar. Feeling a little lost and very lonely, April asked the station master how to get to the hospital. He directed her to the correct bus, and she was soon on her way, her stomach fluttering with nerves. Would she make some friends here? Would she be happy? But most importantly, would she find anyone at all who belonged to her?

  By the time she got off at the hospital, April felt sick. St Thomas’ was an impressive building, but so was this one. Right on the crest of the hill, the hospital was an imposing four-storey brick structure, with a wide flight of steps leading up to the door. As with every building she’d seen recently, thousands of sandbags were stacked high against its walls to protect it from possible bombing raids. She paused at the bottom of the steps and took a long breath, squared her shoulders and walked in, trying to look like she knew where she was going.

  Once inside, April was comforted by the familiarity of the scene. A large staircase in front of her clearly led up to the wards, and nurses in their smart blue uniform dresses with white aprons and hats were rushing backwards and forwards, while white-coated doctors strode purposefully up the stairs, or disappeared down the long corridors that ran off the hallway.

  She spotted a nurse rushing towards the door with her coat on. As she was on her way out, April decided that she might have time to stop and help her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said. The nurse, who had a cheerful, freckled face and beautiful deep red hair, stopped and looked at her enquiringly.

  ‘I’m looking for the matron. I’m due to start work here soon, and I need to know where I’m to live.’

  ‘Oh, hello there.’ To April’s relief, the nurse seemed very friendly. ‘If you’ll be starting work here, then I expect we’ll get to know each other. We’re one big family here. I’m Eunice, by the way, newly qualified, and working on the surgical ward with that dragon Sister Mulholland.’ She suddenly looked a little embarrassed. ‘Sorry, sometimes my mouth runs away with me. They’re all nice here, honestly. Just some are nicer than others.’

  Her voice had a soft Cornish burr, and April thought she could listen to it all day.

  ‘Anyway, up the stairs, top floor, third door on the right. Matron runs things from a little cubbyhole up there. Although she might not be there at the moment as we’re so busy. Good luck! Maybe I’ll see you around soon.’ And she disappeared out of the door.

  Heartened by the friendly welcome, April followed Eunice’s instructions and soon found herself outside a door with the name Matron Clark written on a card and stuck to it. She knocked tentatively.

  ‘Come,’ a voice ordered from the other side of the door. She sounded just like the matron at St Thomas’, which, despite the stern tone, put her at ease. Perhaps, when you become a matron, they teach you how to speak in a matronly manner, she thought with a smile.

  Opening the door, she poked her head inside. A small, round, bespectacled woman was sitting at a desk piled with papers.

  ‘Good afternoon, matron. I’m Nurse April Harvey. I believe you’ve been expecting me.’

  ‘Ah, Nurse Harvey, you are a very welcome sight. Trainee or not, your trauma experience will be a bonus to us, and your matron’s references are glowing. We’re very happy to have you join us. Now . . .’ – she shuffled through some papers on her desk – ‘Ah, here we are. I’m afraid we couldn’t fit you into the nurses’ home, as we’ve had a bit of an influx recently, and we’re still quite a small hospital compared to St Thomas’, but we’ve managed to find you lodgings with a Mrs Teague, who lives just down the hill in Truro. She’s lodged several of our nurses and I’ve not had one complaint yet. Here’s the address. It’s easy to find, just walk down Infirmary Hill and take the second road on the right – then follow the road and it will bring you to Daniel Road.’

  ‘Thank you, matron.’

  Matron looked up and smiled kindly. ‘I understand you’ve had a bit of a difficult time recently, but not to worry, we all look after each other here, and though the hours are long and the work is hard, I hope you will be happy. I’ve assigned you to the surgical ward starting on the eighth of December – next Monday. Your first shift will be from six a.m. sharp until six thirty. How does that sound? Any experience with surgical before?’

  ‘A bit, matron.’

  ‘Excellent. Get yourself off to Mrs Teague’s, and we’ll see you next Monday. Good day, nurse.’

  ‘Thank you, matron. I hope I’ll be an asset to you.’

  Matron nodded briskly, and April rose and hurried from the room. The surgical ward. She was pleased, because that meant she might be able to get to know that friendly nurse Eunice a little better. It was a shame she wasn’t able to live in the nurses’ home with the other girls, but never mind. Anywhere was better than living with Mrs Osborne.

  Walking down the stairs, April stopped a porter and asked for directions to Mrs Teague’s house. ‘Is it far?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘Not far, my lovely. Twenty minutes up, and fifteen down, that’s what I reckon. And as you’ll be walking down, you’ll be there in a jiffy. New, are you? Mrs Teague lodging you, is she?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve just arrived from London.’

  The porter sucked on his teeth. ‘That’s a bad business up there. Not to say we haven’t had our share down here, but . . .’ He looked at her sympathetically, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. ‘You look all in. Get down the hill. Mrs Teague will look after you. She’s a friendly sort.’

  The porter was correct, and a scant fifteen minutes later, she found herself knocking on the door of a pretty white house with two windows on either side of a blue door. A tall, thin woman, who April estimated to be in her fifties or sixties, with grey hair pulled back in a loose bun, answered the door. April stared at her nonplussed. For some reason, she’d been expecting a small, plump woman who looked more like the matron. Then Mrs Teague smiled warmly, and her face transformed.

  ‘April Harvey, is it? Come on in, my lovely, you must be exhausted after your journey. I’ve got supper on the go – a nice vegetable soup and home-made bread – and there’s a small fire in the sitting room. Not much, mind, as there’s hard
ly any coal, but I manage somehow.’

  Slightly taken aback at the woman’s garrulousness, April walked in.

  ‘That’s it, lovely. Let me get your coat. Now, go and sit down. I’ll pop your case in your room and then we can get to know each other.’

  April entered a small, crowded living room. There were two armchairs covered in a flowery fabric positioned on either side of the fire. Opposite it was a settee, covered in the same fabric. All the furniture had lace antimacassars on the arms, and a similar lace cloth protecting the back. The effect was a little eye-watering compared to Mrs Osborne’s restrained décor, and her father’s rather masculine taste. But it felt homely. There were knick-knacks on the mantelpiece above the fire, with a gleaming carriage clock sitting proudly in the centre. The walls were covered with paintings. To her untrained eye they looked like they were from India. The table between the settee and the fire had a lace doily in the centre, with a vase of flowers sitting on top of it.

  Mrs Teague bustled in. ‘Here’s a cup of tea for you, April. And some scones that I baked just today to welcome you. I’m always happy to lodge the nurses. Since my Isaac died, I get lonely without company. Now, first things first, let’s get the business out of the way. If you give me your ration book, I will do all the shopping and cooking for the both of us. But I’m afraid I hate doing laundry, so I’ll change your sheets every other week, but any other washing you’ll have to do yourself, if you don’t mind. Meals are eaten in the kitchen, and I will make sure there’s something for you when you get home. I like to do something special on a Sunday, so if you’re here, we eat in the dining room. I like to invite people if I have enough food. Me and Mrs Beetie next door take it in turns. But now you’re here, perhaps you’d like to bring friends back for lunch once in a while? I do like to have young people round my table.’ Mrs Teague stopped suddenly. ‘Oh, hark at me, going on at you, and you looking like you could sleep for a week. Go on then, drink your tea then come to the kitchen when you’re ready and have something to eat. Then it’s off to bed with you, I think. Plenty of time to talk in the morning.’