Women on the Home Front (60 page)

Eugène's nostrils flared slightly and he nodded his head reluctantly.

‘Go and ring for an ambulance, Clifford,' Connie said taking charge, and then looking at Eugène, she said, ‘Can you get me a bowl, a towel and some water please?'

By the time the ambulance came, Connie had cleaned Reuben up a bit. He'd managed to go to the toilet which was outside, but the two men had to virtually carry him. When they laid him back down, his breathing was laboured and clearly painful. Connie went with him in the ambulance and he was admitted straight away into isolation on the men's ward. She sat with him for a while and even though he was definitely more comfortable and had less pain because of the drugs they'd given him, Connie couldn't help feeling guilty. Reuben had been denied the one thing he had always wanted – to die under the open sky.

As she sat in the peace and quiet, Connie chewed over what had happened to Isaac. It was hard to believe. It was true, he was surly and bad tempered, and he had a chip on his shoulder. He was sometimes guilty of illegal fishing or shooting the odd deer for food, but stealing from old ladies? Somehow that wasn't his style and yet Clifford had told her the police had found stolen goods in his caravan. After all the Frenchie had done for him, she didn't know whether to be angry or to pity him.

Towards the end of the evening, the door flew open and Connie leapt to her feet with a cry, ‘Kez!'

She had the baby on her hip. Connie took Blossom from her arms and Kez went to her father's bedside. Outside the door, Connie could see the corridor was swarming with people. Dressed in black, the gypsies had come to say their farewells. Ward Sister was frantic. ‘Only two visitors at a time,' she was shouting, but the endless stream of people totally ignored her. She appealed to Connie, but there was nothing she could do, except to implore Sister to let them do what they came for and then they would go. By ten o'clock there was only Kez and Connie left. Someone had taken the children so that Kez was free to be with her father during his final hours.

‘How did you find out?' Connie asked.

‘Pen has the gift,' she said mysteriously and seeing Connie's raised eyebrows, she grinned. ‘The Frenchie came to look for us.'

Eva turned up as soon as she'd finished her duty. ‘Someone in the canteen said you were here,' she said. ‘Anything I can do for you?'

There was nothing but Connie was glad to have her two best friends meet at last although she wished it could have been under less difficult circumstances. The two girls seemed to get on well. As the rest of the ward settled for the night, Connie motioned to Kez and Eva and between them they manoeuvred Reuben's bed towards the window. Connie pulled back the curtain but of course it was pitch black outside. She opened the window a crack and he seemed to know that he was breathing fresh air. At midnight, Eva left, promising to come back first thing in the morning.

As the night wore on, Reuben's death rattle was very loud. The nurses kept an eye on him and plied Kez and Connie with cups of tea, but they made their appearances as unobtrusive as possible. Connie's heart went out to Kez. Her friend behaved with dignity but it was obvious that she loved her father deeply. They didn't talk much. Somehow it was enough to be together. Reuben Light passed away just as the dawn was breaking on Easter Sunday, 6 April, 1947. He was fifty-six years old.

Eva telephoned and Clifford came to take them both home, Kez to her own trailer parked next to Reuben's caravan and Connie to Belvedere Nurseries. ‘Makes a hell of a difference having a car,' he told Connie. Clifford had seen it in an old lady's garage when they were helping her out with some coal during the cold snap. It had belonged to her late husband and no one had driven it since 1937. Clifford paid her a fair price and, before he'd left the workshop, the mechanic had fixed it up.

The family had planned to have a day out but Connie had been up all night. Mandy couldn't hide her disappointment. ‘It's not fair,' she complained. ‘We never do anything together anymore.'

‘I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time with Mum and Dad,' said Connie. ‘We'll do something another time.'

‘But I wanted to be with you,' Mandy pouted.

‘How would it be if Connie slept this morning,' Gwen suggested, ‘and then we go out this afternoon?'

Connie was desperate for some sleep but even she didn't want to be in bed all day, so it was agreed that they'd wake her at two. It took her a while to come round. Her head felt heavy and she felt a little sick. She couldn't stop yawning either but once she was in the car, Connie felt a lot better. The family motored onto the South Downs using the London Road which went past Sompting church. It was a bit of a squash in the car especially as Pip had squeezed himself in as well. When they got there they parked on the hill and taking out the picnic things, set off for some trees in the distance. Even though it was early in the year, it was a beautiful day. Pip ran on ahead, scattering wild pheasants hiding in the hedgerows.

Connie looked up at the big sky and felt small. The rolling Sussex downs with their patchwork fields dotted with sheep made a beautiful backdrop. Coming here was a good choice. The sadness of yesterday was somehow put in its place. Reuben was gone, but others, his children and grandchildren would take his place. Life moved on. Nothing stayed the same. She was in maudlin mood. She thought of the brevity of life, of the people she'd nursed in hospital, cut down in the prime of their lives. She thought of the importance of friendships, especially of her friendship with Kez. They didn't see each other for months, sometimes years on end and yet they were able to pick up exactly where they'd left off as if there had been no time between. She thought of Eva and the friendship they'd had to keep under wraps in case they upset the family and she wondered again about Ga and Cissy. They had both loved the same man but Cissy had said the family were at loggerheads long before she married Arthur. Something about a man called Little Mac. Connie knew she'd heard that name before, but where? It seemed so sad that for all these years, Ga had denied herself a friendship, because of someone else's fight. Why hold a grudge for all that time? Apart from Aggie, Ga had no friends now. She relied on the family for her socialising, which was why she was with them now, but she had little in common with any of them. It occurred to Connie, for the first time, that Ga wasn't actually related to any of the people who still lived at Belvedere Nurseries. She and Kenneth were her great niece and nephew, but Ga was only related to her mother through marriage. How different it had been for Reuben. It seemed like he was all alone in the world and yet all those people had turned up as he lay dying. What was the point of that? How much better to enjoy a friendship or relationship with that person while they were still alive. Then there was Sally Burndell. Rumour had it that Sally was coming back home. Connie purposed to drop her a line and find out how she was doing. Thinking of Sally made her think of Jane Jackson. Their friendship was more casual and yet she valued Jane as a friend. She smiled to herself. She still hadn't met this wonderful man of Jane's yet!

‘You're quiet, dear,' said her mother, breaking into Connie's thoughts.

‘Sorry, Mum,' she smiled. ‘Just enjoying the peace and quiet.'

Mandy ran on ahead of them all, picking the first of the wild flowers as she went. Primroses danced along the pathway and Connie could hear skylarks and stone chats calling in the open. A grey partridge ran across the field making his grating sound as he went and Pip looked up, sniffing the air as he sensed the presence of rabbits. There were a few other families around and occasionally they would nod to a passing rambler going along the same pathway.

Her mother had chosen a lovely spot for their picnic. Connie helped her put the blanket down and get out the food. Ga sat on a nearby log until Clifford had returned from the car with her folding stool. A few minutes later they were all eating egg sandwiches and drinking tea from the thermos flask. Mandy had found a tree she could climb and so she made the fork in the branches her table and chair.

‘I suppose they'll give Reuben a right royal send off,' Ga remarked. ‘The rest of the world and his wife turn up when a gypsy dies.'

‘There were loads of them in the hospital last night,' Connie remarked.

‘What did I tell you?' said Ga. ‘At least they were spared having that little toe-rag Isaac around.'

‘Can't we all talk about something a little more cheerful?' said Gwen.

‘Sorry, Mum,' said Connie. She stretched herself out and took some writing paper from her bag. She penned a quick note to Roger and then lay back and looked up at the sky. Her mind drifted towards Eugène Étienne and the way he had got everyone pulling together during the bad weather. He was so much nicer than Mavis Hampton. Connie frowned. Was her leg all right now? Yes, of course it must be. Poor Eugène. She was probably still leading him a dog's life. How handsome he was. She loved the way he'd stood with his hands in his pockets as she talked about Reuben. With his tousled hair flopping over his forehead he looked like a schoolboy. Her heart lurched with desire. Now if only Eugène was hers …

‘Ah, now you're smiling,' said her mother. ‘Penny for them.'

‘I like doing this sort of thing,' Connie said quickly. ‘If Reuben's death has taught me anything, it's been a timely reminder that family is important.'

‘It would be even more lovely if we were all here,' her mother remarked and Connie felt her face burn. She rolled onto her stomach in case anyone noticed. How she wished she could tell her mother about Kenneth but he'd made her promise to say nothing.

Her mother passed around some of her sultana apple cake and Connie sat up. They could hear someone shouting in the distance. ‘Help me, oh help me please …' It was a woman's voice. Pip, who had been resting with his head on his paws, leapt to his feet and growled. Clifford, who had been lying with his newspaper over his face, sat up too. ‘What was that?'

Gwen shrugged. ‘I've no idea.'

‘Shall I go and see?' said Connie, jumping to her feet. Pip ran ahead of her and disappeared.

‘I'll come with you,' said Clifford.

‘Me too,' cried Mandy from the tree.

‘No,' said her father. ‘You stay with Mummy.'

The two adults hurried towards the clump of trees. A woman, frantic and panicking, ran around like a headless chicken imploring the other walkers in the area, ‘Have you seen a little girl? She's seven. She's got blonde curls and blue eyes. She's wearing a pink polka-dot dress?' A man, clearly the child's father was running through the trees calling, ‘Janice, Janice, where are you?'

The woman saw Connie and Clifford coming and hurried towards them. Pip bounded towards the trees and in a short while, they could hear him barking furiously and presently they heard him yelp. Connie caught a glimpse of another person running and then a voice called to them from the pathway. Connie's heart lurched. The child. Someone had found the child.

‘Excuse me,' Connie shouted towards the woman who was walking away from them. ‘I think she's here.'

He had come out onto the path holding a little girl's hand. The child spotted her mother and ran to her. Connie's throat constricted as she watched the child's mother scoop her up into her arms and burst into grateful tears. The child clung to her. Then Connie's heart did a somersault as she turned back and saw the child's rescuer. It was Emmett Gosling.

The child's father ran up to him and pumped his hand. ‘Thank you. We've been looking everywhere. One minute she was there and the next she was gone. Where was she?'

‘We heard a dog barking,' said Emmett, ‘and then all of a sudden she came stumbling out of the undergrowth. I don't think any harm is done.' He turned and saw her for the first time. ‘Connie!'

‘Hello, Emmett,' she said shyly. Her throat had gone dry and her heart was bumping. This has to have been fate, she thought. I never thought I would see you again and now here you are appearing right out of nowhere. He wasn't quite as handsome as she'd remembered but he still had that gentle look in his eyes. He was dressed in tweeds and was wearing knee-length socks on the outside of his trousers and heavy walking boots.

‘How nice to see you again,' said Emmett rather formally.

A woman came up beside him and slipped her arm through his. ‘Was she the missing child?' she purred.

‘Yes, darling.' Emmett smiled down at her and turning to Connie he added with a cheesy grin, ‘You must meet my wife, Lucy. We were married Easter Saturday.'

Married? Connie almost choked. ‘Congratulations,' Connie smiled as graciously as she could. ‘I hope you both will be very happy.'

‘Oh, we will,' Lucy assured her.

‘Connie and I went out together a few times during the war,' Emmett told his new wife. ‘It was good to have someone to help while the time away.'

Connie's heart sank. Someone to help while the time away? Surely she meant more to him than that?

He turned back to Connie. ‘Lucy was an absolute brick when Mother died.'

‘I'm sorry to hear she died,' said Connie, regaining her composure. ‘I know you were fond of her.' So fond of her that you stood me up on VE Day, she wanted to say.

‘Is this your husband?' Emmett asked.

Connie and Clifford laughed. ‘Heaven forbid,' Clifford said. ‘But I am married to her mother.'

The other walkers had already dispersed. In the distance, they heard a motorbike starting up. The tearful family were packing up their things. Clearly losing their daughter albeit for a short time had affected them deeply.

‘I didn't like the nasty man, Mummy,' said Janice.

‘He isn't a nasty man, darling,' said her mother glancing at Emmett. ‘He's a nice man. He brought you back to us again.'