Pattern of Shadows (28 page)

Mary looked up every time the doors to the ward opened but there’d been no sign of Peter Schormann. When Matron came in to check the medicine supplies with Mary, she was brusque and unapproachable. As soon as they finished she strode through the ward doors. ‘Fill in your reports, Sister, and let me have them as soon as possible. I have a busy schedule before I leave this evening.’

Mary hurried after her. ‘Matron, there is one thing. Doctor Schormann.’

‘Is none of your business, Sister.’ Matron whirled around, glaring. ‘Now, those reports?’

Mary persisted. ‘I only wanted to know.’ Matron’s eyebrows almost disappeared under her cap but Mary continued. ‘I was simply concerned as I was the one who reported it.’

‘Lest we forget,’ Matron said sarcastically, ‘it is none of our business what occurs within the prisoners’ camp, Sister Howarth. However, if only to let me get on with my work, and for you to get on with yours …’ She glanced towards one of the nurses who trundled past them with a trolley full of bedpans and moved closer to Mary. ‘The Commandant informed me that four prisoners were arrested and the matter will be dealt with in due course.’

She frowned as Mary said. ‘It was just that I hadn’t seen Doctor Schormann.’

‘You are here to do your job, Sister. Not to ask impertinent questions. But since you persist. The Commandant suggested I put you on different shift to Doctor Schormann for the time being and, unless it is impossible to manage, that is what I intend doing.’ She turned on her heel and left.

Mary bit her lip. There was nothing she could do except keep a lookout for Peter. All she wanted to know was that he was safe.

After her shift, Mary made herself a cup of tea in the staff room and waited by the window overlooking the compound. She’d seen the Commandant going towards his office, followed closely by a group of soldiers but nothing else. Still no Peter. Matron appeared at the door and looked pointedly at her watch and then at Mary; she’d no choice but to leave.

Before going into work she’d telephoned Wormwood Scrubs from the Post Office to request a visiting ticket and was refused. Now she called at Jean’s to see if Patrick had been more successful, but the house was empty and when she got home neither Mam nor Ellen was there.

She threw her cape over the back of her mother’s chair,
sat at the kitchen table and began to write. After a few minutes she heard a burst of laughter from the alleyway. Mrs Jagger was holding court as usual. Her pen hovering over the half-written letter to Tom, Mary looked out into the yard and wondered whose reputation was being destroyed tonight. She got up and banged the door shut. Back at the table she started writing again. When she finished she sat back and sighed. It was the best she could do; somehow letters were never enough. She’d learned that over these last years.

Dear Tom

The police have been to the house and told me what you’re doing. You have to start eating again. They won’t let me come to see you until you do. I think I know why you feel you have to punish yourself but refusing food is not the answer. Sooner or later they will force you to eat and that will be worse.

It will be another two weeks before I’m allowed to visit and only then if you’ve started eating again. You have been through so much and your imprisonment must, MUST, end soon. I want you home. I need you to be here. So much is going wrong and I feel so alone. If not for yourself, do this for me Tom. Please.

Yours, Mary

She put her pen down, rested her head on her arms on top of the table and wept.

She woke to a touch on her cheek.

‘Mary?’ Ellen sat on the chair next to her. ‘We’ve got some news.’

‘Tom?’ Mary sat up, twisting her neck from side to side. She rubbed her face. Her skin felt rough and dry. ‘Is he all right? What’s happened?’

‘It’s not Tom.’

Mary looked round. Patrick was standing behind her, grinning. ‘Jean’s had the baby, a little girl.’

‘That’s where we’ve been, at the hospital.’ Mary turned to her right. Her mother was perched on the edge of her chair, a glass in her hand, her face flushed. ‘Then we celebrated in The Crown.’

‘So I see,’ Mary said. ‘I’ve been writing to Tom.’

Patrick shuffled from one foot to the other. ‘I was going to ring the Scrubs, but then Jean started and all hell broke loose.’

‘I’ll bet it did.’ Mary stood up and hugged him, ‘Congratulations. Jean’s all right?’ He tensed in her arms. ‘Everything is OK?’

‘Yeah. Great!’ He ran his palm over his face. ‘Great.’

‘Well, congratulations again. A little girl, eh? What are you going to call her?’

‘Jacqueline.’ He laughed. ‘She’s beautiful. And Jean says for you to be sure to go and see her tomorrow.’

‘Oh, I will, try to keep me away.’

‘I think I’ll get to bed.’ Ellen leaned over and kissed Patrick and he hugged her. ‘Well done our kid,’ she said. ‘See you upstairs?’ She smiled at Mary but her eyes were sad.

Mary stroked her arm. ‘Night Ellen.’

‘Mam? Night.’ Ellen pushed her way through the curtain at the bottom of the stairs.

Winifred waved her glass at her. ‘Night, love.’ Eyes half closed she nodded her head slowly until her chin rested on her chest.

‘I’d better get off.’ Patrick yawned and stood up.

‘Yes, see you and my niece tomorrow.’ Mary smiled and gave him another hug.

‘You’ll be all right?’ He moved away from her, nodding in their mother’s direction. Winifred was softly snoring.

‘Yeah, she’s not been too bad lately,’ Mary said. ‘I think Jacqueline will buck her up no end.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry, Patrick, but I will need to talk to you about our Tom as soon as possible. I’m really worried. We have to do something, though God knows what.’

‘I know.’ He didn’t look at her.

Mary stood up, rubbing her eyes. ‘You get off now. See you tomorrow?’ She waited for him to answer. When he didn’t she turned to her mother and hoisted her to her feet. ‘Come on, Mam,’ she said, ‘I think you’ve done enough celebrating for today.’

‘Did you hear what they did to those four Nazis?’ Staff Nurse Lewis folded the white gauze into bandage width and began rolling it up.

Mary had her back to her. She paused for a moment then added soda to the water in the sterilizer. ‘No, what happened?’ she said casually. She could feel Hilda Lewis
watching her.

‘Rumour has it they’d been threatening our Doctor Schormann.’ She came and stood next to Mary.

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. Something to do with that newspaper the Commandant lets them have.’ She snorted. ‘An article the Doctor wrote.’ Mary made sure the instruments were covered in the sterilizer and put the lid on, pressing it firmly into place. She moved away but the room was so small, when she turned the woman was right behind her.

‘Major Taylor had them arrested in full view of all the other POWs, apparently, and put in the cells.’ The nurse stared into Mary’s eyes. ‘Doctor Schormann was with them in his capacity as
Lagerführer
. But of course he was also the
supposed
victim.’ Mary tried not to react but she saw the gleam of triumph in the woman’s face. ‘The Major interviewed them but they refused to speak, so then he sent the Doctor back to his barracks and the guards were told to take the Nazis out to the thirty yard range. The next thing everyone knew there were four shots and those Nazis weren’t seen again.’

‘They shot them?’ Mary was shocked.

‘That’s the thing; they didn’t really. They locked them in the guardroom and then, during the night, they were transferred to another camp. The Commandant did it to put the fear of God into the rest of the SS.
They
think those men were shot.’

‘How do you know this, Staff?’

‘Bernard Quarmby told me when I came in this afternoon.’

‘Sister Watkins told me you were late for duty. Is that why? You were gossiping at the Main Gate?’

‘Not at all.’ The woman bristled. ‘There were problems with the bus. Anyway, I’ve made the time up now so I’ll be going.’

‘After you’ve away put the gauze bandages, please Staff.’

The Staff Nurse did as she was told and stomped out of the room. Mary smiled but she was already well aware she had a dangerous enemy in Hilda Lewis.

Peter stood at the top of the steps outside the entrance of the hospital finishing his cigarette before going in. Mary and the nurses on her shift passed him on their way out of the camp.

‘Goodnight Doctor, busy in there tonight.’

‘Lovely evening isn’t it?’

‘Glad to get some fresh air.’

Peter clicked his heels.
‘Ja. Gutenacht.’

‘I’ll catch you up,’ Mary called to the others. ‘I’ve forgotten something.’ She ran back up the steps and into the corridor. Peeping through the ward windows, she saw the night shift staff at the far end. Matron had already left the hospital for the day. She walked quickly back to the entrance and stood in the shadows behind him. ‘Peter?’

‘I was asked to come over to look at a patient in Ward Two,’ he said.

‘We haven’t spoken properly for days. Don’t turn around,’ she said as he made a sudden movement. ‘Are you all right?’ She saw him shake his head. ‘Are you angry with me for telling the Commandant about those
Nazis?’

‘No.’

‘Then why are you avoiding me?’ Mary said.

‘Avoiding? No. I have been given fewer shifts.’

‘Why?’

‘It is not for me to ask questions, Mary. Sometimes I think you forget I am a prisoner here.’

‘I wish I could forget. But even when we are on the same shifts you don’t speak.’

He didn’t answer.

‘Peter? Tell me, what’s wrong?’ She waited

He blew a stream of smoke through tightly pressed lips before answering. ‘Four men, Mary, they have shot four men because of me.’ He kept his voice low.

‘They didn’t shoot them, Peter.’

‘They were shot.’

‘No, they pretended to shoot them, but they didn’t.’

‘I do not understand?’

‘They were not shot. They were transferred to another camp during the night.’

‘But why?’

‘To teach the rest of the Nazis a lesson.’

Peter looked upwards, shaking his head.

‘It’s true,’ Mary insisted.

‘Sind Sie sicher?
You are sure?’

‘Believe me, they are not dead. I don’t want you to blame yourself for something that didn’t happen,’ she said. ‘Or me!’

‘I must apologise.’

‘No,’ Mary said softly, ‘no need.’ Looking up at the nearest tower, she saw the guard was shouting down to the sentry at the gate to the compound. Neither was looking
towards the hospital. Walking past Peter she locked fingers with him for a second and then walked forward to the top of the steps. She looked down, fastening the ties of her cape. ‘I’m on night shift for the next week. Will I see you?’

Peter was quiet for a moment. ‘They have told me that I will not be needed, only Wolfgang, but I will try to exchange with him sometime.’

‘How is he?’

‘Not well but he has not yet told them. He is a proud man, does not like to show weakness in front of the …’ Peter stopped. ‘In front of them. But for me, he will say he does not feel well, I am sure. Then they will have to put me on duty. There is no one else.’

‘Will he change shifts with you without asking why?’

‘He will know why.’

‘He knows about us?’

‘He is a friend. He will not betray me.’

Mary ran down the steps and towards the main gate to catch up with the others. She hoped Doctor Pensch was as trustworthy as Peter said he was.

The glow from the moon framed the outline of the mill against a sky patterned with thousands of stars. A slight breeze took the edge off the heat and ruffled Mary’s cap. ‘It’s a lovely night.’

Peter stood hidden in the shadows of the entrance,
drinking tea. ‘
Ja
. It is.’

Mary watched as the perimeter guard appeared and strolled past inside the fence. He waved a hand in greeting and she called out to him, ‘Goodnight.’ She waited a moment before saying, ‘He’s gone.’

They didn’t speak for a few minutes. Mary felt the perspiration on her skin between her breasts. She lifted her face to the gentle wind, appreciating its coolness and willing herself to wait until he spoke but, as the silence between them stretched out, she said, ‘Are you all right? You’ve not had any more problems with the Nazis?’

She heard him sigh. ‘No.’ There was a slight scrape as he put his cup on the stone windowsill. She felt him move nearer.

‘There
is
something I must tell you.’ He was hesitant. Mary felt the pulse in her throat quicken with apprehension. ‘A few days ago, I received letters from my wife. They had taken a long time to reach me. Almost two years.’ Mary turned in the direction of his voice. Forgetting about the guards, she moved towards him.

‘She says she waits for my return to Germany.’

‘But you say these letters; they’re two years old?

‘She says she loves me.’

‘I
love you.’ Mary moved into the shadows to stand in front of him

‘I am sorry, Mary.’

‘She doesn’t know you as you are now. You are not the same man you were.’

‘We must be strong,
mein Geliebter.’

‘Get a divorce. We can be together.’

‘Ich liebe dich,
Mary. I love you. But it is impossible.’

‘No!’

‘We belong to two different nations: nations who have just fought a bitter war against each other,’ he said. ‘Also, I must be loyal to my wife, I have not the choice.’

‘You have.’ Mary reached out to him. ‘You have. The war is over. We could …’

‘No, you know we could not, it would be impossible. Where could we live and not be hated?’

‘Here, you could stay here.’

‘No.’ Peter held her hands. ‘I try always to be an honourable man,
Leibling
. I must do what I believe is the correct thing. I will miss you. I miss you already.’ He kissed her, his lips warm and firm, then he gently unclasped her fingers and turned away. ‘I must go.’ He ran down the steps as the guard opened the gate of the compound. Mary backed into the shadows and watched the darkness envelop him.