in here just the same way, she said.’
‘Oh, I hope she’ll be all right. It’d be awful if she was
permanently deaf, a young girl like that.’ Polly lay back on
her pillows. She was white.and exhausted still and her voice
trembled as she went on, ‘She saved my life, you know, Cis.
I wouldn’t be here now if Judy hadn’t come in and dug me
out, and got those men and that young doctor to help. I’d
have died in there, in all that filth and dust and -‘ Her voice broke and she began to cry helplessly. ‘Oh Cis.’
‘Polly. Polly.’ Cis slipped her arms about her sister’s body
and held her like a baby. She always was my baby too, she
thought tenderly, remembering her delight when Alice had
told her she had a new sister. At twelve years old, Cissie had
been of an age to be of real help, cuddling Polly and helping
to wash and dress her - although she’d drawn the line at
changing nappies, she remembered with a smile. She
remembered too her pride as she’d pushed the pram up the
street, attracting envious attention from all her friends, and
her pleasure in watching the baby grow to a toddler and
then a little girl, always looking up to her sister, always
ready to be a companion.
Later, when Cissie had married, Polly was her bridesmaid,
and when Cissie’s own children had been born Polly
was more like a big sister than an aunt to them. She and
Judy had always been special friends, and had formed an
additional link between Polly and Cissie herself. The
thought that Judy had saved her aunt’s life brought a lump
to Cissie’s throat.
‘I’m sorry, Cis,’ Polly wept. ‘I can’t seem to stop crying.
I’m so ashamed - but the doctor says it’s natural, it’s shock.
But whenever I think of being buried like that - oh, I can’t
tell you what it was like, it was so horrible.’
‘There, there,’ Cissie said soothingly. ‘It’s all right, Polly.
You’re all right now. You have a good cry. The doctor’s
right, it’s a natural reaction. Anyone would cry after a thing
like that - anyone. You just let it all out and you’ll feel
better.’ She rocked her sister’s body in her arms and went
on murmuring to her, though her heart was heavy. Polly,
her bright, laughing sister, reduced to this sobbing wreck.
Her daughter Judy, frantic with the terror of being deaf.
Her husband Dick, only just over pneumonia, choking with
the dust of yet another bombing and reliving the nightmare
of his experiences in the First World War. What are we
coming to, she wondered, and what’s going to become of us
all before this is over?
‘I’ll have to go soon,’ she whispered as Polly’s sobs eased.
‘I want to pop in on Judy again, and I must be back at the
Royal in time to see Dick, and Mum doesn’t even know
where I am. By the way, you know you’ve got company in
here from April Grove, don’t you? I saw Peggy Shaw and
Gladys up the other end of the ward. They were at the
Royal when it got bombed last night. Peggy was thrown into
some rose bushes, and Gladys has got a broken arm.’ She
hesitated, then decided not to tell her sister that young
Graham Philpotts, the sailor who used to go out with Betty
Chapman and had been calling round for Gladys just lately,
had been killed. He’d been helping with the ambulance, so
Peggy had told her quietly when she stopped to have a word
with them and Gladys was blaming herself. But Polly didn’t
need to know that - not just yet.
This awful war, she thought, making her way slowly out
of the ward, sadly aware of the people around her - injured,
bereaved, homeless and bewildered. This awful war.
By the beginning of May, Dick, Judy and Polly were all
home again, each still somewhat shaken by their experiences.
To Cissie’s relief, Dick’s chest hadn’t been as badly
affected by the dust as they had feared, but his nerves were a
different matter. The violence of the raid and the close
proximity of the mine that had hit the hospital had brought
back all the old terrors, and his nights, and therefore Cissie’s too, were broken by nightmares. In fact, she told Alice
privately, that was one of the reasons they’d sent him home
from the hospital - his cries and screams were keeping other
patients awake. He was nervous and on edge during the day,
too, likely to flare up over the least little thing, and although Cissie did her best to remember that this was all part of his
illness, she couldn’t help getting upset sometimes,
‘Where’s my glasses gone?’ he demanded. ‘You’ve been
tidying up again, Cis - I can’t find nothing. You’ve hid
them deliberately.’
‘Dick, of course I haven’t! I wouldn’t do a thing like that.
I expect you’ve put them down somewhere and forgotten
them.’
‘Oh yes, it’s bound to be my fault, isn’t it! Everything that
happens in this house has got to be my fault. Neither use nor
ornament, that’s me. I dare say you got on a lot better when
I was in that hospital. Better send me back.’ He sat down,
staring angrily into space. Cissie took a deep breath and put
her arms around his shoulders.
‘Dick. Please don’t talk like that. You know it’s not true.
All I want is to have you at home and feeling well again.’ He
had covered his face with his hands and she tried to prise
them away. ‘Dick, look at me. Please. Let me give you a
kiss. Come on, now,’ she coaxed him, talking softly, stroking
his thin cheek with her fingers. ‘Come on. You know you
don’t mean those things. And look,’ she laughed suddenly,
‘there are your glasses - on top of your head! They’ve been
there all the time!’
For a moment, he looked even angrier and she was afraid
that she’d upset him even more by laughing at him. Then
the sense of humour that had always saved them came to the
rescue again and his lips pulled into a grin. He pulled her
close.
‘Sorry, Cis. I’m a twerp. I dunno how you put up with
me.’
‘Nor do I,’ she said, hugging him in relief. ‘But just you
thank your lucky stars I do, because I don’t think you’ll find
another woman at your age!’
‘Don’t you be too sure,’ he warned her, his temper over
as quickly as it had arisen. ‘That Ethel Glaister’s been
giving me some funny looks just lately!’ And they both
dissolved into laughter.
Polly too was plagued by nightmares. Half a dozen times
a night she woke, convinced she was buried under a pile of
bricks and rubble, and threw off her blankets, coughing and
choking in distress. As soon as she was awake, she realised
that it had been a dream, but it took several minutes to
regain control of her breathing, and she lay staring into the
darkness, almost afraid to go to sleep again.
Judy, who shared the small back bedroom, couldn’t help
her for she had still not regained her hearing. The few
sounds she could hear seemed to come to her through a
thick fog of distorted mush, and it was almost worse than
not being able to hear at all. The normal family chatter with
the wireless on in the background almost drove her
demented, and she couldn’t understand what anyone said unless they spoke very slowly and exaggerated their lip
movements so that she could try to read them.
Even that wasn’t very successful.
‘Time for tea,’ Cissie mouthed, and Judy stared at her
blankly.
‘By the sea? What’s by the sea?’
Sometimes she could see the funny side of it, and
laughed, but too often she became upset and angry. ‘I’m fed
up with this!’ she cried, beating her fists together. ‘I’m never going to be able to hear again, never - you don’t know how
awful it is! I’m going to be like this for the rest of my life, and it’s like being in prison. I’m caged in all the time - it’s horrible!’
The doorbell rang and Polly went to answer it. She came
back and said to Judy, ‘It’s someone for you. Chris Barrett,
from the Observers.’ Judy stared at her uncomprehendingly,
and she wrote it down on the little blackboard they’d found
in Sylvie’s toybox.
‘I don’t want to see him.’
‘But he’s come all this way specially.’
‘Then he can go back,’ Judy said abruptly. ‘I don’t want
to see him - I don’t want to see anyone, not while I’m like
this. What d’you think he’s going to say when he realises
what I’m like - deaf, half out of my mind? He’ll never come
again anyway, so there’s no point. Tell him to go away.’ Her
lips trembled and Polly gazed at her anxiously. Judy turned
her face aside, but not before the others had seen the tears
on her cheeks. ‘Tell him to just go away!’
‘Perhaps she’ll feel a bit more up to it in a week or two,’
Polly said gently to the disappointed young man. ‘She’s had
a terrible shock, and she’s really not feeling well.’
Chris shrugged. ‘All right, Mrs Dunn. Shall I come back,
then?’
Polly hesitated. She had no idea what the situation was
between him and her niece. ‘Better leave it perhaps,’ she
said, hoping she was doing the right thing. ‘I see you out at
the Beach, anyway. I can always let you know when she’s
feeling better.’
Shame, she thought, watching him walk off up the street.
He was a nice young man and it would have done Judy
good. But Judy didn’t seem interested in him. Her deafness
seemed to be taking over her life. Time and again she
dissolved into tears of frustration and despair, and Cissie
began to be seriously worried about her.
‘I think she’s going to have a nervous breakdown if
something can’t be done soon,’ she told Polly as they ate a
hasty breakfast of cornflakes. ‘She says it makes her feel so
useless. She can’t go to work because she can’t hear what
anyone says to her or use the phone or anything, and when
people talk to each other they leave her out, and that’s
hurtful. She feels as if she’s being treated as if she’s stupid.’
‘I know. And she seems to be shutting herself away from
everything. I mean, take that Chris Barrett - nice young
feller, he is, and he’s obviously a bit struck with our Judy. I was hoping they’d get together, but no. He’s asked after her
a few times, wanted to come round again and see her but she
won’t have it. Says nobody’d be interested in a deaf girl.
Says it’s no use him coming, she won’t even go to the door
to say hello. And it’s not just the deafness, you know,’ Polly
went on. ‘It’s Sean as well. She’s never grieved properly
oyer him, just pushed it away. You can’t do that. I should
know. I tried it myself when Johnny died, but you can’t put
it off for ever.’
‘I don’t know what we ought to do about her,’ Cissie said.
‘She needs to get away from all this bombing. Well, we all
do. Raids night after night - you know last Tuesday’s was
the fiftieth, don’t you? It was in the Evening News. I mean,
how are we supposed to stand it?’
‘We’re not,’ Polly said wryly. ‘But you’re right, Judy
needs some peace and quiet. I wonder if the people Sylvie’s
staying with could put her up for a few days?’
Cissie stared at her in surprise. ‘Surely not! They’ve got
those other two kiddies there too, haven’t they? I don’t
suppose they’ve got room.’
‘Well, she could sleep in with Sylvie. Or maybe that nice
vicar where I took the Simmons girls could take her, there
seemed to be plenty of rooms there. Honestly, Cis, it would
do her so much good to be out in the country for a few days,
and it’d be lovely there now it’s May. Look, I’ll talk to the
Mayoress. She’s really kind and helpful, and she might
know of somewhere.’ Polly glanced at the clock on the
mantelpiece. ‘Talking of the Mayoress, I’d better get a move
on or I shall be late. I’m going into the main Clothing Store
today, we’re moving some of the stock to a church hall near
Elm Grove. Apparently the Queen wrote to the Mayoress after they came here that time and said we ought to have a few more stores in case the main one got bombed. The
Mayoress was already seeing to it, of course, but it just
shows the Queen really thinks about these things, doesn’t
it?’
She gathered up her jacket, bag and gas mask, and
hurried out, still limping a little. As soon as she had gone,
Judy came down the stairs and Cissie heard her take the lid
off the teapot to see if there was any tea left. She put her
head round the scullery door.
‘Has Polly gone to work?’ She had accepted the fact that
her voice could be heard by others, although she didn’t seem
able to get the level right and either whispered or shouted. It was one of the reasons why others found her so hard to talk
to, Cissie thought, and felt a fresh wave of sympathy.
‘Yes, she’s going to the Clothing Store.’ She bit her lip,
aware that she’d spoken too quickly and without turning her
face to Judy’s. She tried again, mouthing the words with
some exaggeration. ‘Clothing - Store.’
Judy flushed and Cissie knew that the exaggeration itself
had upset her. She left the room quickly and then returned