All I Have to Give Page 7

  Her voice had a tired edge to it. And yet, though covered in blood and with her hair matted to her face with sweat, Edith looked magnificent. Her tiny frame had taken on the stature of a god, as light shone from her in the form of hope.

  When her eyes focused on him, her face lit up. His darling girl. Once again he asked himself, How can this wonderful woman – this lady – have feelings for me? But she did. And though theirs was a forbidden love, one day there had to be a way they could be together.

  ‘Albert! Are you all right? What are you doing here?’

  This last question would be because Edith knew he wasn’t due his rest period yet and shouldn’t be out of the trenches. But he’d tasked one of the lads with telling his officer that he’d have to take Jimmy to the hospital himself, and hoped that would make his absence all right. He was sure it would, as they were used to him helping the medics when the fighting was over. Telling her about Jimmy, he was careful to add that the lad’s injuries were an accident. ‘He’s in a bad way, mentally as well, Edi— Ma’am.’

  Albert waited while Edith tended to Jimmy. Still unconscious, the lad didn’t stir.

  ‘He’ll have to be operated on, but the wound is clean, so I’ll make sure he stays asleep for a while, as we surgeons will be working flat out, and God knows when we will get to him.’

  Comforted by the knowledge that Jimmy would be all right, he nodded. Then whispered, ‘Edith, can I see you for a moment?’

  Her face took on a worried look. ‘I have so much to do – I’m sorry. How long now till your rest period? I know you said, but I’ve forgotten.’

  ‘It didn’t mean that much to yer then?’

  ‘Oh, it did! I – I mean, oh, I don’t know – all of this, it . . .’

  ‘I know, it wipes out normal life; even stuff yer look forward to can diminish in its importance.’

  ‘I – I’m sorry. I have thought about it. I’ve thought about it a lot. I just forgot the actual timing of it.’

  ‘Well, it’s three weeks and twenty-three hours away.’

  ‘Ha, not that you are counting! Look, I have to get on, but I will arrange to have a day off and meet you in Beauvais town. No one should see us there – we can get separate trains. Connie went there the other day on her rest day and she brought a train timetable back with her. She said it is beautiful and has the most wonderful cathedral. It is in the province of Picardy.’

  ‘Ah, the famous song. I’d never ’eard all of it, but some lads arriving the other day came in singing it: “Roses are flowering in Picardy, but there’s never a rose like you . . .”‘

  ‘You have a nice voice. I will get you to sing the whole song to me when we meet.’

  ‘It will be me pleasure to do so. I’ll learn the words before then. It’ll be me love-song to yer.’

  ‘Oh, Albert.’

  Her blush made her look even more beautiful. He could hardly find his voice to ask, ‘What time, and where, shall we meet?’

  ‘There is a train that leaves Abbeville town centre at ten a.m. and one at eleven-thirty a.m. I will catch the ten. Connie was telling us about a cafe she found that serves delicious snacks and makes its own bread, so we will meet there. She said it is two streets away from the station. Turn left when you come out, and then take the second right. The cafe is called the Jardin d’Eden.’

  Ironic, he thought, that there should be a place with a name like the Garden of Eden, so near to this hell they lived in. ‘I’ll be there, and I will try to get a shower first!’ She didn’t miss the humour of this, for at this moment they were both covered in the gore of the day. She gave a wry smile. ‘You’d better! Now get off back, and let me get on with my work.’

  ‘Before I scarper, I ’ave to tell yer, I’m worried about young Jimmy. I reckon ’is mind ’as gone. He thinks the rats are going to eat ’im, and he babbles on about death and fire and ’ell. But he didn’t do this on purpose. It was an accident.’ He told her what had happened. ‘If the officers come to make enquiries, tell them what I’ve just told you, and that I’ll speak for ’im.’

  Her eyes had opened wide as she listened. He could see that she understood the implications. If it was thought that Jimmy had shot himself because he was a coward, he would face the firing squad.

  Albert explained about Jimmy having lost two brothers at the beginning of the war. ‘He’s a brave lad, Edith. I’ve fought alongside ’im and there’s none better. It’s just that today’s lot has turned ’is mind. Make ’im better, Edith, please make ’im better.’ His plea made tears well up in his eyes. He hoped Jimmy would be okay, and thought of the lad’s poor mother.

  ‘I will – don’t upset yourself. Many of the injured have mental-health problems. It happens because they are weak and their defences are down. But we have a special VAD, a girl from a family I know at home. She can work wonders with those who are suffering mentally, but don’t have physical wounds to the head. She gets their confidence up and helps them to unravel their tangled minds. Don’t worry. I’m sure Jimmy won’t be seen as a coward by the officers. They’ll believe you.’

  ‘God, I ’ope so. They can be a pompous lot. One said to me the last time we ’ad to execute a lad, “Must keep up morale, and must keep the lads in line. Cowards and deserters are traitors!” It is as if they think the executions will keep the ranks from deserting, but it ain’t like that, Edith. Most of those that run are in a bad way, as Jimmy is. I’m not saying all, but most of them that are caught are, as they can’t think things through logically. I’d not object to shooting the other kind – those who plan to go and are difficult to find.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say. Most of my colleagues are male officers and we have debated this. They understand the condition of the men, but still agree with the punishment.’

  ‘They’re of a different breed. ’Ow could someone say what that last one did, to a man shivering with fear in front of a firing squad? I’m not kidding, Edith. After he’d said about keeping the ranks in line, he turned to the lad waiting to be shot and said, “Hope you heard that, and may God forgive you for your cowardice – fire!” All in one sentence. It’s sickening, Edith, and I don’t think I can do it again.’

  ‘I’m sure you won’t have to. I will speak to Christian and Douglas about it. Thank you for getting a message to them for me. Now they know I am here, they are visiting me whenever they can. It is wonderful to see them.’

  ‘I ain’t met them yet. I just sent a note along the line and ’oped it would get to them, I’m glad it did. Yer know, Edith, if this were other times I’d—’

  ‘Doctor, over here, quick!’

  Edith smiled, a sad smile.

  Not wanting to leave her feeling sad, Albert winked and said, ‘Only three weeks . . .’

  ‘And twenty-three hours! I know.’ She giggled, a sound that warmed the cold place that held his heart, but what she said next lifted him even more, because her words showed him how much she cared: ‘Keep safe, Albert, promise me you will keep safe.’

  If only this were other times, he thought, and then consoled himself. If it were, she’d not even talk to him, let alone acknowledge an attraction for him.

  Edith watched Albert leave. A feeling of ‘if only’ came over her, but she shook the silly notion from her and turned her attention to the lad Albert had brought in, because now he had stirred, his mental state was apparent.

  From a foaming mouth, the boy uttered over and over again that the rats would get him. He didn’t seem to be in pain and she was glad of that, because dosing him now would interfere with the anaesthetic she needed to give him later, but his distress was terrible to see and for that he needed Jennifer’s help. She touched Jimmy’s hand. ‘Everything will be all right, Private O’Flynn.’ Then she turned. ‘Has anyone seen Jennifer Roxley? I need her here.’

  ‘I passed her as I came in, so I am sure she will have heard your shout,’ answered Captain Mark Woodster.

  ‘Oh, you got here quickly. Thanks. Hope you’ve brought help – w
e’re going to need it.’

  His smile soothed, but what he said annoyed her. ‘Had to. I couldn’t ignore a damsel in distress now, could I?’

  ‘I’m managing perfectly well, thank you, and am not distressed. Neither am I a damsel! It is the wounded who need you, not me.’

  ‘Oh dear – sorry, old thing. I didn’t mean . . . Anyway, least said soonest mended. What do you want me and my team to do?’

  Feeling silly for giving him such a rebuff, Edith took the easy way out and went into professional mode. ‘If you take all the limb amputations and I deal with the bullet wounds, that will be a big help. I have a couple of serious head-wounds that need priority, so I will start with them. Nurse Connie, whom you know, has a list of who should be first, and is in charge of pre-ops. And Nurse Nancy will take care of them post-op. Have you met her yet?’

  ‘Once you’ve met one, you’ve met the other, with Connie and Nancy, I believe. They seem to come as a pair. Yes, I have met them both and couldn’t wish for better in my team. Besides working with them a couple of times, I met them on the beach the other day, and they were having a whale of a time—’

  ‘We’ve no time to chatter, Captain Woodster. I have to scrub up. Good luck.’

  Walking away from him, her nerves felt in a tangle. He had a way of rubbing her up the wrong way, and she didn’t know why.

  As she scrubbed her arms and hands, having donned a clean white gown, Edith thought about Mark Woodster. A senior medical officer and surgeon with the South Lancashire’s, he had told her that his family were all medicine- or army-orientated. He’d taken to the medical side, but found himself in both with the outbreak of war. A handsome man and a good-humoured one, he often helped out when the going got heavy. His usual job was in the first-aid station on the front line. His prompt and expert attention, under horrendous conditions, had saved many a man from dying and kept them going till they could reach the hospital.

  He’d called into the hospital on his day off and asked if he could have a follow-up on the men he’d sent there. Seeing the strain she was under, he’d volunteered to help. Now, once he’d cleared his station and battle had ceased, he tirelessly came over to help them and always answered her call for assistance. She really should treat him better, but she found it difficult even to be civil with him. Now, Albert . . . Is there something in this comparison? Am I rejecting what Mark stands for: the upper crust of society that Mother has tried so hard to marry me to, and keep me chained to? Is that why I find Albert so attractive? After all, he represents everything Mother would look down on and forbid me from mixing with. Oh, I don’t know . . .

  Hours later, Edith straightened her back. The strain of the night had worn her nerves thin, and the pain of extreme tiredness was so severe that her body felt as though every limb had been stretched from its socket.

  ‘Come on, old thing. Connie has made an urn full of tea, and it’s the best-tasting tea ever!’

  ‘Captain Woodster, why do you call me “old thing”? It is very rude and presumptuous of you! I am not your old thing! I’m . . .’ Damn, now the tears were coming.

  ‘Hey, it’s all right. I’m sorry. I . . . I—’

  ‘No, it’s me that’s sorry. I know it is just a term used by our class, I am being silly. Please ignore me.’

  ‘You’re not being silly, old— I mean, Edith. It has been a long night, and I have shed a few tears myself during it. I shouldn’t have taken liberties. Oh, Edith, I . . .’

  His words triggered more tears. His arm had come around her. The nearness of him as he held her made her feel strange. Her father and her brothers had been the only men ever to hold her before this. Stiffening, she pulled away from him and blew her nose. She couldn’t cope with the confusion of feelings inside her. She’d gone from being a woman who shunned all men to being affected by two, in ways she didn’t understand; men of two very different worlds – what was wrong with her? Whatever it was, she must keep it in check or it would be the undoing of her.

  Mark let out a huge sigh, looked at her for a moment with a look that spoke of his own confusion and then said, ‘Let’s get to that tea before it’s stewed, eh?’

  All she could do was nod, then follow him as if she were a little girl. Maybe tomorrow – now only a couple of hours away – would bring her back to sanity. All she needed was a little sleep. Of that she was sure.

  6

  Ada

  Low Moor, July 1916

  An unexpected love

  The bed creaked as it took Paddy’s weight. How was it that she used to quiver with anticipation at him joining her in bed, her body eager and expectant of him possibly making love to her? And yet now it was as if she was dead inside, and she hoped and prayed he wouldn’t turn towards her.

  ‘Why do I have to feel you stiffening in repulsion at me? Can you not be forgiving me? Didn’t I tell you that your sister made a prostitute of me? We needed to eat, Ada, and to pay the rent and the bills.’

  ‘Aye, and buy gallons of beer, and bet on the horses.’

  ‘Whisht, will you? Can you not try to forget, and have us back to how we were? I miss you, Ada. No one gives me what you give me.’

  ‘And that says it all, you cheating, lying bastard! I’m the only one who should be giving that to you, but you’ve allus put yourself about. You’ve never been faithful to me. Now you want me to accept you shagging me own sister and putting her in the family way. Well, I don’t, and I never will.’

  ‘Aye, they are me failings, but I’ve learnt me lesson. Come on, me Ada, come into me arms and let me be making you happy again.’

  ‘No. Don’t touch me!’

  Ada, come on – you know you’re wanting to.’

  His hand crept up her nightie, creating the usual tingle in her groin. Clenching her thigh muscles tightly, she barred his progress. ‘Don’t! You repulse me. I never want you to touch me again.’

  ‘Is it not me wife that you are? Aye, and the teaching is that a wife gives unto her husband when he needs her to. I can go to the priest, if I’ve a mind, and he will be telling you that to disobey your husband, or to refuse him his conjugal rights, is a sin against the vows you took when you married me. So, let’s have no more of this nonsense.’

  With this, Paddy lifted his body onto hers. Crushed beneath him, she pushed against his chest. ‘No, no! Leave me al—’ Her breath caught in her lungs at the deep punch to her stomach.

  ‘I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry, Ada. Why is it you make me do such things to you?’

  A sick feeling churned inside her. Paddy was past reasoning with. Sucking in air, she tasted his beery breath and the stale lingering tobacco of the fag he’d smoked before coming up to bed. ‘You should take No for No. I’m not ready. I’ve told you that time and again, but you just take from me as if I am a whore. Whether I will get over the hurt and humiliation in time, I don’t know, but I’m not ready, Paddy.’

  ‘Oh? Is it that I have to force you again? Well, so be it, because I’m having me dues.’

  ‘Please, Paddy, don’t . . . please . . .’

  His knee prised open her legs, bruising her thighs, but she fought him. She couldn’t just give in, no matter what the cost to her. Another punch to her ribs took all the fight from her. The malice that came with the blow hurt her as much as the blow itself. If Paddy loved her, how could he treat her like this?

  As he entered her, he called out in triumph. ‘There – are you for changing your mind, now that you have me? Come on, me Ada, love me like you used to. I promise I’ll not be letting you down again. Oh, Ada, Ada . . .’

  Each thrust sickened her. Lying beneath him, she let her body go limp. His rape would not be helped by her, nor would she give him the gratification of having won her over. Nothing in her responded to him – nothing but the repulsion of all he stood for, and the hurt he’d brought down on her.

  It didn’t take him long. After he sighed a deep satisfaction as he rolled off her, she thought he would just go to sleep, but his mood turned ugly. �
��Reject me, would you? Lie under me like a dead duck, eh? Me – your husband of twenty-odd years? You bastard!’ His fist sunk into her stomach again. Vomit retched from her. Winded and unable to rise, she choked on the foul-tasting liquid. The sound brought Paddy to his senses. Grabbing her, he pulled her to a sitting position and thumped her back. ‘I’m sorry. Oh, Ada, I’m sorry.’ His words came out in huge sobs. As he held her to him, his tears dampened her hair. His body shook as he let go of a deluge of grief and remorse. When she could make out what he was saying, she heard the lads’ names and his lament at how he’d treated her. It went on and on, but none of it touched her. Inside, she was dead to him.

  Alighting from the train with the hundreds of other workers, Ada felt glad to be out in the fresh air. The carriage had been stifling. Not that the feeling would last, as she was soon inside the gates of Barnbow Munitions Factory and then inside the factory itself, stripping off her clothes and donning the special overall and cap they all had to wear.

  Keeping her head down, she shuffled along with the rest of the women. The closeness of their bodies jostled her and caused more pain to her bruised insides.

  As the factory doors opened, the smell of acetone stung her nostrils and made her feel giddy. The strong chemical odour of this component of the cordite that she worked with permeated the air and clung to her clothes, giving her a constant headache. But that was the least of the worries that she and the other women had, as the packing of the shells with strands of cordite was dangerous work. Explosions could happen at any time, and the cordite had the effect of turning their skin yellow. With this thought, Ada rubbed her arms, but then what did it matter what she looked like? Or what colour her skin was, because inside she was nothing. She didn’t even bother to drink much of the extra rations of barley water and milk the workers were allowed, and which they were told would combat the yellowing. Instead she gave it to Betsy, for her and her young sister and brother to get the goodness of.