Connie’s Courage (11 page)

As they both hugged her tightly, Connie could feel the tears rolling down her face. ‘Oh, I was so frightened I would be sent away,' she admitted.

‘Vera's been let off as well,' Josie informed her. ‘Haven't you, Vera?' she added, as the other girl came into the room.

Although Connie looked immediately toward her, Vera refused to meet her gaze, her face turning a guilty red, before she turned it away and tossed her head defensively, sniffing unconvincingly, ‘Pooh, I don't know what all the fuss was about!'

‘Vera, there's something I wanted to ask you about …' Connie began quietly.

But before she could finish what she had been about to say, Vera broke in quickly, ‘I can't stay, I've got to get back on me ward.'

Silently Connie watched her leave. One of the links in their friendship had been broken by the lie Vera had told to protect herself, and Connie knew that things would never be quite the same between them.

And Connie was right. Whilst on the surface the four of them remained firm friends, a subtle shift in their loyalties began to develop over the months that followed. Connie emerged as the leader of what, essentially, was a trio of herself, Mavis and Josie, whilst Vera began to distance herself from them.

They still went out together on their rare evenings off, the music hall remaining a favourite venue, especially when George Lashwood was appearing. But whilst she retained her mischievous sense of fun, Connie was becoming increasingly involved in her work.

And then, out of the blue, Vera, announced that she was walking out with a young man she had met at the music hall.

‘If I'm going to be skivvying, then I might as well be doing it in me own home and not this bloody Infirmary,' she told them sharply. ‘Bert's dad has a little bit of a business that Bert is going to take over from him, and I reckon, if I play me cards right, I could be married to him within the year, and mistress of me own house.'

‘But I thought you wanted to be a nurse,' Mavis protested.

They were in their room, drinking the sweet, hot cocoa Connie had made in the kitchen and brought up for them all.

‘Maybe I did, but I've changed me mind,' Vera told her tossing her head. ‘I'll give it ‘til Christmas and then I'm off!'

None of them said anything but Connie was not surprised. She had suspected from certain comments that Vera had made to her that she would leave.

To her own relief she was not as upset by this as she had thought she would be. She and Vera had been close friends, and two of a kind, or so Connie had thought, but increasingly recently she had begun to grow impatient of Vera's constant complaints and time-wasting tricks.

Only this morning Sister had praised Connie's bandaging, and told her approvingly that she had done a very professional job. The glow of
satisfaction that praise had given her, had felt much better than the pleasure Connie had once got from being rebellious.

It was Mavis with whom she felt she had the most in common now, as they discussed what they were learning, and how much they enjoyed their work. And although neither of them ever said, there was a shared awareness between them that they had both come from homes and backgrounds a little higher up the social scale than either Josie or Vera.

Where, originally, she had found Mavis's similarity to her sister Ellie got her back up, now Connie found it strengthened her affection for Mavis, and made her feel closer to her.

‘I'm going Christmas shopping today, Mavis,' Connie announced, as she sat down with her breakfast opposite the other girl, she stifled a yawn. There had been an emergency on the ward the previous night, a patient suffering from delirium, and Connie had quick-wittedly noticed that something was wrong, and hurried to tell Sister.

‘You and me have the same half-day, we could go together if you fancied it? Josie was saying that they've got all the Christmas decorations up now in the shops on Bold Street, and in George Henry Lee's.'

‘Connie, what a good idea,' Mavis replied enthusiastically. ‘I haven't done my Christmas shopping,
yet. I want to get something special for everyone, my mother, my sister, and, of course, Harry, my brother.'

Connie had heard a great deal about Mavis's family since they had become more friendly, and, every now and again, when Mavis was talking about them, a sharp spear of pain pierced Connie's heart, and she felt very envious. Mavis's closeness to her family brought home her separation from hers. She missed them so much. Especially Ellie, even though once she had thought she would hate her elder sister for ever. She was an older and a wiser Connie now than that girlish Connie had been.

Unlike Connie, Mavis's brother was older than her, and her sister, younger, but when she talked about her family and the happiness of her life before the death of her father, Connie couldn't help recalling, again, how happy her own life had been before her mother had died.

‘I do feel for you, dear Connie, in not having the comfort of a brother or sister!' Mavis said gently, now.

Connie bit her lip. ‘I do have a sister, Mavis, and … and two brothers, but after our mother died we were split up. Then my father remarried and …'

‘Oh, Connie how dreadful for you!'

‘Yes, it was,' Connie agreed bleakly, tears pricking her eyes. ‘If you don't mind, Mavis. I prefer not to talk about it …'

‘No, of course. I understand!' Mavis assured her sympathetically, squeezing her hand gently.

She couldn't say too much about her family, Connie acknowledged, because after all she could hardly tell Mavis the full truth. She could just imagine how Mavis would turn away from her in shock and disgust, if she knew what she had done. And Connie knew how much she would hate that. There was a bond growing between her and Mavis which Connie deeply valued.

For once, there was no mischievousness or teasing in Connie's eyes as she looked at her friend, and said truthfully, ‘You have become as dear to me as a sister, Mavis.'

‘Oh, Connie!' Tears in her eyes, Mavis flung her arms around Connie and hugged her tightly. ‘That is exactly how I feel about you!'

‘Do Josie and Vera want to come shopping with us?' Mavis asked, when they had released one another with pleased and shamefaced, emotional smiles.

Connie shook her head. ‘Josie is going to see her aunt, and Vera doesn't want to come.' Connie gave a small sigh. ‘She's changed since she met Bert. You know she says that she isn't going to continue with her training.'

‘Well, to be honest, I don't think she would have made a very good nurse. Not like you, Connie!' Mavis responded.

‘Me?' Connie gave her an astonished look. ‘You are the Miss Goody Two Shoes,' she reminded
Mavis, teasingly. ‘I'm always getting into trouble.'

‘I don't suppose I should tell you this, but I heard Sister saying that you are a natural.'

Connie tried to look nonchalant, but her face went pink and inside she was secretly thrilled to have been picked out for praise.

Ellie was grateful for the warmth of the beautiful new furs Gideon had bought her, as she stepped out of Cecily's husband's motor car, to join her cousin on the pavement on Basnett Street. Cecily was one of Aunt Gibson's two daughters, and Ellie had always got along with her cousin very well. They were outside Liverpool's most exclusive store, Bon Marche, where they had come to do some Christmas shopping. This store, whilst owned by the Lee family, carried a far more exclusive stock than George Henry Lee's across the road from it. Bon Marche catered for the cream of Liverpool society, and it was here that women flocked to buy the latest Paris fashions.

Gideon had driven her over to Liverpool the previous evening, and he was picking her up this evening, and then driving her to Hoylake so that they could pay a visit to her Aunt and Uncle Parkes, before returning home to Preston.

‘Oh, Ellie, this takes me back! You and I going shopping together.' Cecily smiled, as they stepped into the deliciously perfumed warmth of the store. ‘Do you remember when we used to meet Iris at the
Adelphi for afternoon tea? Not that we can do that today, of course, for they have pulled it down and are rebuilding it.'

Ellie nodded her head. She knew that Gideon had hoped that this visit to her cousin would lift her spirits, but Cecily's comment had simply reminded her of a time when her sister Connie had been alive.

‘Connie always loved Christmas so much,' she said sadly. ‘I think it was her favourite time of the year. We used to hurry home from school so that we could make our Christmas cards together. I miss her so much, Cecily.' Tears filled Ellie's eyes.

‘Ellie, you really must try to put her loss behind you,' Cecily told her firmly. ‘I know it was very sad, but under the circumstances, bearing in mind the disgrace she had brought upon herself …'

‘I know that what she did was wrong, Cecily, but …'

‘Indeed it was. Very wrong! I suppose I should look for something for the maids,' Cecily fretted, deliberately changing the subject, ‘although not in here, of course. It would be far too expensive. I thought perhaps a pretty handkerchief, Mama always gives her maids gloves which she buys from the Church bazaar. What are the children to have this year?'

Ellie smiled, roused from her sadness by the mention of her family.

‘Gideon has insisted on buying a brand new train set for Richard, and we've ordered a new rocking
horse for Joshua. Henrietta is to have a set of paints. She is very artistic, and Gideon thinks that we should get her some private tuition.'

Cecily started to frown. ‘Well, I know how much you love her, Ellie, but I have to say that with her looks – and she is quite strikingly oriental-looking now, although very pretty – you may regret making her so much a part of your family. Mama says that it would have been far better if you had had her adopted, or sent her back to Japan.'

Ellie was shocked.

‘Cecily, I look on Henrietta as my daughter, as much as though I had borne her myself,' she told her cousin in outrage. ‘Gideon and I have adopted her legally and, to us, she is our eldest child.'

Really, Ellie thought crossly, sometimes Cecily seemed to be growing unpleasantly like her mother!

‘Brrr, it's cold!' Connie exclaimed, as she huddled into her thin coat.

‘Oh, do let's look at Bon Marche's window,' Mavis begged her, catching hold of her arm.

Arm in arm, the two girls studied the elegant window displays, and the luxurious furs worn by the mannequin.

Still arm in arm, they crossed over the road to look into the windows of George Henry Lee's.

‘Oh, Connie! Evening-in-Paris perfume. I can remember my father buying my mother some! And look at those gloves!'

They walked happily from the store to Bold Street, ‘the Bond Street of Liverpool', lingering over each window display and teasing each other, their laughter ringing out in the cold air, as they drew level with Cripps shawl shop.

‘Oh, do let's go in, ‘Connie, Mavis urged. ‘I would love to buy my mother a really good warm shawl!'

The shop was busy with customers, and whilst they waited to be served, Mavis fingered some of the shawls.

‘Oh, look at that one, Connie,' Mavis exclaimed, pointing to a particularly warm, soft, lavender blue shawl. ‘It is so pretty.'

Connie looked at the shawl. It felt warm to the touch, and it was obviously expensive.

An hour later, after Mavis had finished her shopping, and Connie had mentally earmarked the small items she had decided to buy for her friends, Mavis said tiredly, ‘I'm parched. Shall we go and have a cup of tea?'

‘Yes, let's, Connie agreed, and linking up together they started to walk down the road.

They had just reached the teashop, when Connie exclaimed, ‘Oh, I've just remembered there's something I wanted to get. You order that tea, Mavis, and I'll just dash back for it!'

It didn't take her long to hurry back to Cripps, and, mercifully, this time there were no other customers. Connie pointed out the lavender blue shawl and opened her purse.

‘It's one of my favourites,' the saleswoman said to her approvingly. ‘Fair lifts the heart that colour does.'

Thanking her, Connie paid for her purchase and left. Connie hadn't forgotten the help Ma Deakin had given her, and when she had seen the shawl, she had thought immediately of the midwife.

The late autumn afternoon was already closing into dusk, as Ellie walked out of a shop ahead of Cecily. The street was busy with shoppers, but Ellie's attention was caught by one girl who was crossing the street, a few yards away from her.

Ellie froze, gripped by shock. The girl had her back to her, but something about her made Ellie's heart pound. Connie. It was Connie! The angle of her head, the way she walked. It was her sister! Frantically Ellie started to hurry after her, calling out her name, desperate to catch up with her, oblivious to the attention her urgency and strained expression were attracting.

She was walking so fast that she accidentally turned her ankle, and would have fallen if a kindly fellow shopper hadn't reached out to hold her arm steady. Choking back a sob, Ellie thanked him before begging, ‘Please, I must go. My sister … I must find her …'

‘But your ankle – you gave it a nasty twist …'

‘Please …' Ellie pulled away. She had to catch up with Connie, before she was swallowed up in the busy crowd and lost to her.

‘Ellie. What is going on? I saw you slip,' Cecily told her anxiously, catching up with her.

‘Cecily, I just saw Connie …' Ellie burst out immediately. ‘We must go after her. We must find her, Cecily …'

Tears were running down Ellie's face, as her frantic gaze searched the crowded street.

Cecily stared at Ellie in consternation. She knew how distressed Ellie had been by her younger sister's death, of course, but … ‘Ellie, you can't have done … you must have been mistaken,' she told her gently, taking hold of her arm.