CHAPTER 49
‘HOW ARE WE, THIS MORNING?’ enquired a pretty young nurse with fair hair tucked under her cap.
‘Is it morning?’ Daisy asked as she found herself sitting in an unfamiliar bed.
‘You were brought up to the children’s ward yesterday. Don’t you remember?’
Daisy rubbed the corners of her sleep-filled eyes. As everyone kept asking her if she remembered things, she thought it would be better to say that she did.
‘Here, drink a little water.’ The nurse helped her to sit up.
Daisy drank as if she hadn’t tasted water in years.
‘Little sips,’ advised the nurse.
Daisy took a breath. ‘Do you know where my mother and brother are?’
The nurse frowned. ‘I’ve been told they are being well cared for and you are not to worry.’ She took away the glass. ‘I’d like to give you a top and tail before the doctor’s rounds. Do you feel up to that?’
Daisy nodded, though she wanted to go back to sleep.
‘My name is Nurse Gwen, by the way.’
Daisy didn’t have to wait long before Nurse Gwen had tended to her injuries. ‘You have only minor scratches and bruising. It was your head that took the impact.’
‘I can’t remember much.’
‘You’ve been a very brave girl.’ Nurse Gwen wrung out the flannel in the bowl on top of the cabinet. ‘I promise to be gentle as I brush your hair.’
Despite trying to be brave Daisy shied away.
‘I’m sorry,’ apologised Nurse Gwen. ‘This nasty head wound must be painful.’
Daisy was determined not to complain, though she missed Mother terribly.
‘Well done,’ the young nurse encouraged. ‘I’ll bring the commode.’
‘What’s a commode?’
Nurse Gwen chuckled. ‘A chair with a po, more or less.’
‘I’d rather go to a proper toilet.’
‘We’ll see what the doctor says after he’s seen you. But for now, it’s bed rest and the commode is easy to use.’
As Daisy lay there, she listened to the noises in the ward. A child was crying somewhere soothed by the consoling murmurs of an adult. Soft footsteps padded close by and the curtains blew very slightly as the nurses passed.
Daisy held back her tears.
When would she see Mother again? There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but there was no one to give her any answers.
O ver the next few days, the prodding, poking, changing of dressings and general investigations of her injuries were exhausting. She heard other children around her, but their beds were often shielded by screens as the nurses and doctors came and went. Could she get out of bed and walk, she wondered? But as she moved, what felt like a huge marble rolled around in her head. And then, frustratingly, she would fall asleep.
‘Good morning,’ said Nurse Gwen one day and peered into her eyes, gently lifting one eyelid and then the other. ’After I’ve taken your pulse, we’ll decide what you would like for lunch.’ The nurse took her hand from under the sheet. ‘We don’t want you wasting away. You’re only a wee thing.’
Daisy had been called many things before, but never a wee thing. ‘Mother says my puppy fat won’t disappear till I’m older.’
‘Really? But there’s not an inch of fat on you.’
Daisy looked down at the shape of her body under the hospital blanket. ‘Where’s all my puppy fat gone, then?’
Nurse Gwen chuckled. ‘Let’s just say, you have plenty of room for a good, solid meal. Today it’s a stew. And a very nice one at that.’
Daisy had to agree that the beef broth was delicious. She finished every scrap, followed by a small portion of ice cream. But not long after she had settled down for an afternoon nap, the siren wailed.
‘Oh dear, the warning is early today,’ Nurse Gwen sighed and hurriedly hung her notes on the end of the bed. The ward Sister appeared through the swing doors, a small, grey-haired woman dressed in her deep blue uniform, who calmly gave all her nurses their orders.
‘I’ll help you to sit in this,’ said Nurse Gwen as she wheeled up an ancient-looking chair to the side of Daisy’s bed. ‘An orderly will come and take you to the underground wards and I’ll join you there.’
Daisy was cosseted in blankets and a pair of hospital slippers put on her feet. With a cushion propped behind her back, she was transported downstairs.
The sloping floor made access easy and along with many other patients in wheelchairs, on crutches and sticks and even in beds, the underground ward was soon filled with patients. The orderly, an older man with a small moustache, parked her at one end of the ward. Casualties of all shapes and sizes joined her until the ward was full to capacity.
Later, meals were served. ‘Sit tight and I’ll bring yer grub,’ said an orderly. ‘The nurse will be along soon.’
Daisy felt a churning in her stomach. She was alone and without the reassuring presence of Nurse Gwen. The noises in the underground ward grew louder. Patients called for attention as the orderlies delivered small trays bearing a slice of cold pie and a drink.
Daisy didn’t have an appetite. Instead there was a dreadful feeling inside her, as if something terrible was about to happen.
When Nurse Gwen arrived she explained everyone would be safe during the attack. But when Daisy heard the first grumble of aircraft, she tried to get up from her wheelchair. She thought of the hole in the kitchen floor and the flames bursting upwards to lick at the ceiling. Most terrifyingly of all, was that invisible hand catching hold of her, propelling her into the air as though she was made of rags.
‘Daisy!’ Nurse Gwen was restraining her. ‘You must stay seated.’
‘No, no!’ protested Daisy. ‘The bomb will go off.’
‘My dear, please calm yourself.’ Nurse Gwen prevented her from standing. ‘There’s no bomb. Really. You are quite safe.’
‘It will explode - ‘
‘There are no bombs here,’ the nurse assured her.
Daisy was
