‘I’m blind.’
There came the slip-slap of shoes against the floor; gentle hands easing her back on to the pillow; the creak of the bed; a depression in the mattress; and the rustle of starched apron as a nurse sat beside her.
‘You’ve been in a bad accident.’ A hand brushed the hair from her brow. ‘You’ve been in hospital for more than two weeks but you’re on the mend, don’t worry. Rest now, you need to recover your strength.’
Kate felt her stomach; it was bandaged. She knew there were scars underneath the rough wrappings. Her baby must have been torn out of her by the explosion, leaving God knows what damage to her body?
‘Bob? Janey?’
‘No one in the vicinity of the sheds survived except you.’ The soft voice was sympathetic but with a note of reproach as if she should be happy she was spared. ‘As I said, you must try and rest now.’ The bed creaked and lightened, the footsteps went away and Kate was alone again in the darkness.
She felt her body, curled her legs to touch her feet, everything seemed to be intact. She thought again of Janey, lying there without her legs, her knickers exposed for anyone to see and tears burned her sightless eyes. She tried to turn on her side but something was in her arm, pulling her, and she realized she must be on a drip of some kind. Blood? Fluid? She fell back against the pillow and a merciful oblivion claimed her as she sank into the bed as if into the softness of a cloud and slept.
‘Kate, my poor lovely girl.’ A hand was holding hers, a masculine hand. The voice was familiar, from the distant past, someone gone from her life, gone from this world.
‘Kate, talk to me, tell me you’re all right.’
It sounded like Eddie, smelled like Eddie. She raised her hand and made contact with a shoulder, a shoulder dressed in rough cloth, the cloth of an army tunic.
‘Eddie, is that you?’ She heard the incredulity in her own voice and then his lips were against hers. Her heart filled with gladness. ‘Eddie, you’ve come back from the war, you didn’t die in some foreign, muddy place after all.’
His arms were around her and she winced. She was released and eased back against the pillows.
‘Sorry, sorry my darling. I know it hurts like hell just now but they tell me you’re going to be all right.’
‘What about my eyes, Eddie, will I see again?’
He didn’t answer directly. ‘Give it time, my lovely girl, you’re alive and for now nothing else matters. I’m going to look after you.’
So he meant to stay with her, to forgive her. She felt warm and suddenly safe and very happy.
‘Where’s my mammy, why isn’t she here Eddie?’ The silence lengthened and she knew. ‘She’s hurt, dead?’
‘There was an air raid a few nights ago, the house was bombed. I’m sorry, Kate, so sorry.’
‘All of them?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hold me, Eddie, hold me, please.’
He held her gently while she cried. Mammy, the children, her home, all gone to a German bomber and she, lying in hospital, hurt by shell meant for the enemy.
‘Why are there wars, Eddie?’
He kissed her brow. ‘If I could answer that I’d be the world’s greatest philosopher.’
‘Will you have to go away again, back to the war, I mean?’
‘Yes, I’ll have to go back and fight, my love, but we’ll be married once you’re better. In the meantime you can stay with my mother while I’m away, she’s promised to look after you for me. Do you want me, Kate?’
A rush of love washed over her; pain, blackness—it was all as nothing because Eddie was here and he loved her. ‘Of course I want you, Eddie, my love.’
‘Another visitor.’ The nurse’s voice, growing familiar now, was hearty. A cool hand touched Kate’s cheek, the soft touch of a friend, the unmistakable perfume of Hari.
‘What have you gone and done to yourself?’ The creak of a chair as Hari sat down, the crack of the material of her coat as she reached to shake Eddie’s hand—sounds were what Kate identified with now, sounds told her what was happening around her.
‘We all heard the explosion.’ Hari’s soft voice revealed the horror of the moment. ‘We rushed outside, saw the flames, saw the… the carnage. Poor Janey, and then you lying there covered in blood. I thought you were dead, Kate, along with the others. We never found Bob.’ There was a break in her voice and then a pause and Kate imagined Hari’s beautiful face realigning itself as she pulled herself together.
‘But the nurse tells me you’ll be fine, in time,’ Hari said. ‘Just fine.’
‘I’m a bit sore, can’t see a damn thing.’ Kate heard her voice thin as a reed but she felt hope fill her heart, her love was here with her, her Eddie. And her best friend in all the world, Hari, was here too. Mammy and the children were gone, taken by the war, and she would grieve for them forever, but she had two people who loved her and that was more than some folk ever had—many people, now the war was overwhelming them, were alone in the world.
‘Mother of God keep us all safe,’ she whispered under her breath.
Kate went home two weeks later. Eddie had returned to his regiment and it was Hari who drove her to Eddie’s house.
‘Come inside, my dear Kate,’ Eddie’s mother said, ‘find your way around the living room first of all and then you can explore the rest of the house when you’ve rested and had a cup of tea with a bit of brandy in it to warm you up.’
Kate brushed away her tears. She felt the fat arms of an easy chair and gingerly eased herself into its bulk. Cushions were piled behind her back and a footstool slipped beneath her feet.
‘You are going to be spoilt rotten here I can see,’ Hari said with a laugh in her voice.
The chink of tea cups was followed by the sound of liquor being added and Kate’s hand was directed to the handle of the cup. The saucer was sensibly dispensed with.
Kate wondered what she should call Eddie’s mammy but that problem was solved by Hari. She leaned close to Kate’s ear.
‘We’re to call Eddie’s mum Hilda,’ she said, ‘I’ve had my instructions and was told to pass them on to you.’ Hari paused. ‘Eddie is coming home on leave in a few weeks and then you’ll be married, you lucky girl.’
The tea was hot and the brandy taste strong and Kate began to relax.
‘Were they good to you in hospital?’ Hari touched her arm. Before Kate could answer there was a ring on the doorbell and the sound of Hilda opening the door. Kate froze as she heard an anguished cry.
‘God no, not again. So soon, it can’t be!’ Hilda came back into the room her footsteps dragging against the lino and the sound fading as she stepped on to the jute carpeting.
‘I’ve got a telegram, Kate, about our boy. He went back to the front line and no one can find him.’ There was a rustle of paper. ‘Missing believed killed in action, it says. Dear God, I can’t go through it all again.’
Kate held out her arms and the two women embraced, crying soundless tears. Her life was over. Eddie had come to her in hospital, offered her love and marriage and now he was gone again. How could she bear to live for even one more day?
Sixteen
I was glad Hari was too busy to come and see me at the farm. I knew I was jealous of her and I hated the way she and Michael had looked at each other. Aunt Jessie talked to me about it and I listened; she knew Michael better than anyone in the world. She was his mother after all, even if she wouldn’t admit it. I knew she had her reasons; Auntie Jessie always had her reasons. Part of it was to do with Michael’s German father.
‘People often have an attraction for each other,’ she explained again, with patience. It won’t last, believe me. Your sister Hari is clever, she will go far, she’s not cut out to be a farmer’s wife.’
‘But again, am I?’ It was a question with a deeper question behind it and we both knew it.
‘You might just be.’
‘
