‘Perhaps,’ Nurse Gwen replied. ‘I’ll do my best to see you off. Now, breakfast is coming. You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten.’
Daisy sat in her chair where she ate her porridge, but she didn’t feel better. She couldn’t stop thinking of Tommy. Would he get better? She put on the clothes she had stored in her locker, then sat in her chair.
She must have dozed as she opened her eyes to see Mr Cook beside her.
‘Hello youngster,’ he said apologetically. ‘Sorry, but I can’t take you. The roads are in a terrible mess. I’ll try again tomorrow.’
‘You will come for me, won’t you?’ Daisy panicked. Would she ever get away from this hospital?
‘I’ll do me best, don’t you worry.’
That night Daisy joined the long queues to the underground level, a place she had hoped never to see again.
When she returned to the children’s ward the next morning, Tommy’s hadn’t returned.
‘Where’s Tommy?’ she asked the nurse.
’I’m afraid it’s sad news.’
‘Didn’t he have his operation?’
‘No more questions now. I understand you’re leaving today. Get dressed and sit in your chair until someone comes for you.’
Once more Daisy put on her coat and studied her knees, peeking out beneath her hem. They looked very white and wrinkly as though they’d been soaked in water. What had happened to Tommy she wondered yet again? She wished Nurse Gwen was here to ask.
Slowly she gathered her letters from Matt and Mother and tucked them in her pocket. Breakfast came and went and so did the midday meal. She sat waiting again, wishing Nurse Gwen was on duty and wondering if Mr Cook would arrive.
‘Hello,’ said a female orderly at last. ‘I’ve instructions to wheel you downstairs.’
‘Has Mr Cook arrived?’
‘All I’ve been told is to take you downstairs. Now sit in, dear, I haven’t got all day.’
Daisy reluctantly sat in the wheelchair. She was looking forward to walking and using her legs. The orderly sped off at a rate of knots and finally they arrived at the entrance.
Daisy searched the crowds for Mr Cook. Streams of wounded and sick passed by, but with no sign of the person she was looking for.
‘We’ve waited long enough,’ the woman decided. ‘I’ve other patients to see to.’
‘Please let’s stay a bit longer,’ Daisy entreated. ‘Mr Cook promised he’d come today.’
’Then you’ll have to wait on your own,’ snapped the orderly. ‘If he arrives, make sure you return this chair to the porter before you leave. If you’re still here when I come back, I’ll take you back to the ward.’
Daisy found herself waiting alone amidst the milling crowds. She searched all the faces once more, hoping to see Mr Cook and feeling desperate when she didn’t. What could have happened? Were the roads impassable again?
’Can’t ‘ave you ‘anging around wiv’ all these germs,’ said a voice behind her. ‘A bit of fresh air’d do you good.’
The wheelchair spun in the opposite direction. Daisy clutched its arms. Where was she being taken and by whom?
She recognised the voice. It certainly wasn’t Mr Cook.
No, it was Peter Brady.
CHAPTER 56
‘STOP, PLEASE STOP!’ Daisy yelped as the wheelchair flew along. She tried to attract the attention of a porter as they passed, but he was too concerned with directing the flow of human traffic.
‘No one’s gonna hear you,’ threatened Peter as he swerved to miss an elderly lady leaning on a cane. ‘Everyone’s out for ‘emselves after last night. Who’s gonna bovver about a pasty-looking kid like you?’
‘Where are you taking me?’ Daisy spluttered, wondering if she could reach down to stop the wheels somehow. But they were going too fast.
‘You look like you ain’t had a breath of air in ages. I’m gonna put roses in yer cheeks.’
Daisy felt the force of Peter’s rough actions as he swerved the chair this way and that until they finally came to a door marked, “Exit Only.” He pushed her into the silence of a long, dark passage.
Eventually they stopped at a set of iron gates. Peter stabbed his thumb on a button and they lurched into the empty space beyond. As the doors clanged closed behind them, the creaking lift ascended higher.
‘Please take me down, Peter,’ she begged, a request which only drew a contemptuous laugh.
He shoved his face into hers. ‘I’ll take yer down all right. The quick way.’
Daisy had never looked into such cold eyes. He leaned closer and pressed his coarse, unshaven chin against her cheek and whispered, ’Think I didn’t see you, Miss Hoity-Toity? Think I didn’t know you was hiding in yer bed, a mouse in its hole, all shivery and shaky, while I was over with me brother? Well, he never amounted to much. I’m glad to be rid of him.’
Daisy gasped. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Runt of the litter he was. Even me mum didn’t shed a tear when he copped it.’
‘You mean - you mean he died?’
‘Good riddance that’s what I say.’
Tears filled Daisy’s eyes. ‘That’s a dreadful thing to say. He was a nice little boy,’ she whispered fearfully. ‘He couldn’t help his bad leg.’
‘He was a weakling,’ Peter shouted, pushing his face into hers. ‘An embarrassment to the Brady’s. Me dad was gonna kick him out anyway.’
Daisy closed her eyes as they flew along. How could he say such terrible things? Poor little Tommy. He was a mischief but a loveable one. He didn’t deserve a family like the Brady’s.
A gust of cold air whipped her face as they arrived on to the hospital roof. She gulped at the breathtaking view. A thick, cloying fog accentuated the late afternoon dusk that veiled the blitzed London landscape. Wisps of smoke curled into the heavy clouds above and filled the air with a choking heaviness.
So this was what the city looked like after almost three months of continual bombing! She felt as though she had been asleep and woken up just as Pops had said, like Sleeping Beauty. Only the
