The Promise (29 page)

‘Time to get up, girls,’ Sally called out at six the next morning.

Belle groaned, rubbed her eyes and wearily pushed back the bedcovers. ‘It can’t be morning already, it seems only minutes since we went to bed,’ she said.

‘For some it probably was,’ Sally said archly, looking across at Miranda who was still fast asleep.

‘No need for sarcasm, Sally,’ Vera piped up. ‘You’re only jealous.’

‘For the record, she came in at eleven. I spoke to her,’ Belle said, and reached out to shake her friend’s arm to wake her.

The rain was back. When they left the hut to go and get their breakfast, they squelched through puddles once again. Fifteen minutes later Belle was running over to her ambulance, her coat over her head, and she saw David was already sitting in it with the engine running. As she got in, she saw Miranda standing beside hers, with Alf, and she seemed to be angry about something.

‘I wonder what’s wrong?’ Belle said to David as she prepared to drive off.

‘I think she’s cross that she’s got to drive that one again,’ David said. ‘You remember on Saturday she was moaning about the gears sticking?’

Belle did remember. Miranda had said it made her arm ache trying to change the gears. ‘I suppose she was in so much of a hurry to get off on Saturday she forgot to report it,’ she said.

The two girls always tried to drive one behind the other as it meant if there was a delay at the station they could chat to each other, so Belle waited a moment to see if Miranda was able to drive the ambulance. When she saw it move, she set off and Miranda fell in behind.

‘It seems to be all right,’ David said, looking in the wing mirror. ‘Maybe it was fixed after all. Did she have a good weekend?’

‘The best,’ Belle grinned. ‘She looked like she was on cloud nine when she got back. Today should bring her down to earth with a bump though, if it’s true there’s going to be even more casualties than usual.’

David began telling her about an argument that had broken out last night between two men in his hut about a missing fruit cake sent from home. Dan, whose cake it was, thought the other man, Ernie, had taken it and scoffed it all.

‘And had he?’ Belle asked.

‘No, it turned out Dan had squirrelled it away for safekeeping in his suitcase, and he’d forgotten about it. He got his case out for something else, and there it was. There was nothing Dan could do but share it out then, and Ernie made him give him a really big piece to apologize.’

Belle laughed. There were always arguments about such things in the men’s hut. The girls she shared with were far more civilized; when any of them got stuff from home they always shared it.

‘This damned rain, do you think it’s going to last for the whole summer?’ she said, leaning forward to peer through the windscreen as the wipers weren’t clearing it very well. The level crossing was up ahead, but as Belle reached the box where the man sat who waved a warning flag if a train was approaching, she noticed he wasn’t in it.

‘I wonder where he is?’ she said to David. She often had a chat with the man if they had to wait for a train to pass.

‘Perhaps there’s no train expected after all,’ David said hopefully. ‘Or it’s already gone through.’

Belle drove on over the tracks, and glanced in her mirror to see if Miranda was right behind, but she’d fallen back some four hundred yards, so clearly she was still having trouble with the gears.

Belle slowed down for her to catch up, and at that moment she heard a shrill train whistle.

‘Bloody hell, there’s a train coming!’ she shouted in alarm. She pulled up, and both she and David jumped out to warn Miranda. But by the time they’d got to the back of the ambulance, they could see she was already right on the crossing and appeared to have stalled.

‘God in heaven!’ David exclaimed. ‘What is she doing?’

They started to run the six or seven hundred yards towards her, waving their arms in warning, but she wasn’t moving, and even at that distance they could sense she couldn’t get the vehicle to go back or forward.

The hospital trains were slow, but the line curved round near the crossing and the driver wouldn’t see the ambulance in time to stop.

‘Get out!’ both David and Belle yelled at the top of their voices. ‘Get out now!’

The train was nearly there, hidden from view by trees, but they could see the steam and hear it lumbering ever closer.

Belle was screaming in terror; she was close enough to the crossing now to see Miranda’s white, panicked face, and the train bearing down on her. Alf in the passenger seat was gesticulating, clearly shouting to Miranda to get out, then his door opened and he leapt out and ran full tilt towards Belle.

Everything seemed to slow right down then. The train driver had clearly seen the ambulance because they could hear the shriek of the brakes, Miranda turned her head towards the train, her arm moving as if still trying to wrestle with the gears. Then all at once the train was right there, slamming into the ambulance and pushing it sideways along the track like a piece of cardboard.

They saw Miranda’s arms come up and cover her head just as the ambulance was swept over on to its side, and the train went right on to it before it finally came to a halt.

Chapter Sixteen

David tried to hold Belle back, but she pushed him off and ran to the mangled ambulance. Even as she ran she knew there was very little chance of Miranda not being seriously hurt; the train had crushed the cab.

The train driver and the fireman both jumped out of the engine, and all along the train nurses were looking out of the windows, trying to see what had happened.

Alf sank down on to his knees in the road, wailing that he’d tried to make Miranda get out. Belle yelled back to David to see to him.

The fireman from the train tried to block Belle’s way. ‘That’s not going to be any sight for a girl,’ he said, grabbing hold of her arms.

‘She’s my friend and I see wounded men daily,’ Belle sobbed. ‘Just let me see if I can get into the cab to find out if there’s any hope.’

She threw him off and ran the last few yards. The train engine’s front wheels were embedded in what had been the driving seat and as Miranda wasn’t visible it seemed she had been flung over on to the passenger side. The windscreen was shattered, shards of glass all over the track, all of them splattered with blood.

Belle almost lost her nerve then. People were shouting and steam was belching out from the train engine, but she had to look, and kneeling down she peered into what remained of the crushed cab.

Right down at the bottom, against the passenger door, Miranda’s blonde hair showed up in the gloom, but her body was hanging upside down and it was twisted grotesquely, both her legs trapped beneath the train engine’s wheel.

There was so much blood that Belle retched. ‘Miranda, can you hear me?’ she called out. ‘It’s Belle, I’m here, please speak if you can.’

There was no sound or movement. Belle could just make out her friend’s hand, still raised to her head the way it had been as the train hit. She reached in and caught hold of it, feeling her wrist for a pulse.

But there was none. She was already dead.

‘I loved you, Miranda,’ Belle whispered, rain mingling with her tears and running down her face. ‘I never had a real friend before you and I don’t know how I’m going to manage without you.’

The train driver came and lifted her up and she fell against his chest, sobbing.

‘Come away now, sweetheart, there’s people coming to move the ambulance. There’s nothing more you can do. We’ve got to get the wounded men on the train off to hospital too.’

It was the very worst of days. Railway men arrived with heavy machinery to back up the train engine and remove the ambulance from the tracks. The engine wheels were buckled and they had to be fixed before it could continue to the station. Meanwhile, all the ambulances which were on the station side of the track had to drive a circuitous route to the other side so they could take the wounded off the train.

All of them were distressed further by the delay and the job of lifting them from the train was far harder without the height of a station platform. Tempers were short, and the extra jolting was painful for the wounded. With all the drivers and stretcher bearers shocked and deeply upset by the terrible accident, they were not at their best.

Belle had to carry on; with so many seriously wounded men in grave need of operations and treatment, she couldn’t do otherwise. But the spectre of what she’d seen and what she’d lost was impossible to put aside. Alf was in deep shock; he’d been taken back to the hospital but he kept haranguing everyone who knew Miranda, clearly desperate for them all to tell him he couldn’t have done more to get her out. One thing was clear from what he said: she hadn’t frozen with horror – right until the last minute she was bravely trying to get the ambulance off the tracks because she was afraid it would derail the train.

It was late in the afternoon before soldiers got Miranda’s body out of the ambulance. As the rain was still pouring down everyone became soaked to the skin and that added another dimension of misery to a terrible day.

When Belle and David drove back to the hospital at nearly eight in the evening with their last load of wounded, a message was waiting for them that they were to report to Captain Taylor.

‘That’s all we need,’ David groaned. He had been strong for Belle all day. He’d got her hot, sweet tea, comforted her, dried her tears, and fended off all those who clamoured to ask her questions. But he had liked Miranda too, and had also witnessed the horrific accident; his face was so pale he looked as if he could pass out at any minute.

Captain Taylor was an excellent organizer, but he could be brusque with those under his command, and it was generally known that he had not approved of women being taken on as drivers. Both Belle and David expected that he would take a hard line about Miranda’s death if she hadn’t reported the problem with the gearbox.

He was speaking to someone on the telephone as they went into his office. He indicated they were to wait. Their overalls were soaking wet, water was dripping from them on to the floor, and they were very cold, possibly more as the result of shock than the temperature.

Captain Taylor was short and stout, with grey hair and a handlebar moustache. His uniform was always impeccable, as if he pressed it daily, and it was common knowledge that in civilian life he’d been a bank manager. As he talked, he was looking Belle up and down, as if appalled by her drowned-rat appearance.

‘You are very wet,’ he said as he put the telephone down. ‘I won’t keep you long but I need to hear your version of what occurred today.’

‘There was no one manning the level crossing, sir,’ Belle said. ‘I noticed that as we went through. We both assumed this was because no train was due.’

She felt she had to get that in first, as it was the reason for the accident. The faulty gearbox was incidental.

‘Parks!’ said Captain Taylor, looking at David. ‘Tell me what happened. In full.’

David began by confirming the crossing had been unmanned, then explained how they had noticed just after they passed over it that Miranda had fallen well behind them in the convoy, so they pulled up. ‘I intended to suggest she left her ambulance and came to the station with us, sir,’ he said. Then he went on to describe the events which occurred when they heard the train coming. ‘The ambulance was stalled right on the crossing. We could see her trying to get it into gear. When we heard the train coming we ran and shouted for her and Alf Dodds to get out. There is a bend on the line just before the crossing and we knew by the time the train driver saw the ambulance and braked, there wouldn’t be enough time to stop it.’

‘Did Forbes-Alton tell either of you there was a problem with the gearbox before she set out?’

‘She said it was hard to change gear on Saturday, sir,’ Belle said.

‘But she didn’t report it?’

‘I don’t know, sir,’ Belle said. ‘I didn’t speak to her on Saturday evening as she was going away for the night.’

Suddenly her anger flared up. Her friend was dead, and now this pompous little man who sat in his office all day and never lifted a stretcher or even came down to the station to see the wounded, was implying the fault was all Miranda’s.

‘Surely this shouldn’t be about what was wrong with the ambulance?’ she snapped at him. ‘There should’ve been a man on the level crossing. Even if Miranda had managed to cross it safely, the next ambulance might have been hit. She’s dead, through no fault of her own, a hideous death just as she was planning to get married. And what about her parents? Have you contacted them yet?’

He had the grace to look faintly embarrassed. ‘No, I haven’t, Reilly, but I will send a telegram.’

‘Can’t you telephone them?’ she implored him, moving closer to his desk. ‘Imagine their reaction to getting a telegram saying she’d been hit by a train!’

‘The correct procedure is a telegram,’ he said woodenly.

‘I’m sorry if I’m speaking out of turn, sir,’ Belle said, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘But surely the army and Red Cross owe her parents a personal call and an explanation as to why their daughter is dead?’

‘I realize you are upset, but army protocol has to be followed. A telegram is the way we inform relatives.’

‘But she wasn’t a soldier, she was a volunteer. And who is going to break the news to her fiancé? Or are you just going to wait until he comes here looking for her?’

‘I wasn’t even aware she had a fiancé,’ he said.

‘Well, she has, and he’s a sergeant in the American army. His name is Fergus; at present he’s organizing the billets for the expected troops.’

Taylor made a note of the name on his jotter, then looked back at Belle. ‘I will contact his CO. In this instance I will put your lack of respect down to the shock of losing a close friend. You may go now, get into some dry clothes.’

David saluted the captain and turned to go, but Belle stood her ground.

‘Please, sir. Miranda worked hard here, and she has influential parents,’ she pleaded. ‘You really should telephone them tonight and break the news to them of their daughter’s death. You have to give them the opportunity to arrange for her body to be taken home. Or were you planning to put her into a mass grave with the soldiers who will die of their injuries tonight?’