Chapter 19 Elsie
Elsie
For the first time since Christmas, Nelly and I had the night off at the same time.
Nelly had briefly mentioned going out somewhere, but even as she said it, she was beginning to laugh, because we were both so tired that we could hardly stand, let alone dance.
She was exhausted with her new role in the operating theatre, and the raids had barely let up with more people arriving at hospital every night with terrible, life-changing injuries that pushed all of us nurses to our limits.
I wasn’t a great cook, but I’d managed to rustle up a stew that was, I had to admit, more veg than meat, but it smelled good. We ate early, because we wanted to be finished before the siren went off.
It was a full moon tonight. When I’d been walking home earlier, two women sitting at the bus stop had been looking up at the sky as I passed.
‘Bombers’ moon,’ one of them said to the other.
The other woman had shuddered. ‘Barely a cloud in the sky,’ she said. ‘No clouds and a full moon.’
‘Bound to be a bad one,’ her friend agreed. ‘Best get home, fast as we can.’
I’d hurried down the road, eager to get to safety. And now I was chivvying Nelly along, as I washed up our dinner plates, but she was peering into the mirror that hung over our fireplace.
‘Percy said my freckles are sweet,’ she said, leaning forward.
I leaned backwards away from the sink, so I could see her in the lounge. ‘Nell, watch yourself there. Your skirt’s dangling into the fire.’
‘Do you think I look like a little girl?’
‘No, I don’t. And I really don’t think Percy does either.’
Nelly was actually beautiful. I always thought she looked like a film star. Like Vivien Leigh, perhaps, with her pale skin and dark hair. And her freckles just added to her beauty, in my opinion.
Nelly sighed theatrically. ‘All the Malones are cursed with freckles.’
‘Cursed or blessed?’ I said, rolling my eyes as I put the last plate on the drainer and, after drying my hands, went into the lounge.
‘Do you think I should grow my hair?’ Nelly twirled one of her gleaming curls around her finger and examined it closely. ‘Sure, it’s not as shiny as it used to be.’
‘That’s because you are hungry and tired and it’s full of brick dust and smoke.’
Nelly turned to me and gave me a beaming smile. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I’m a silly vain old thing.’
‘Not old,’ I said. ‘But vain, undoubtedly.’
Nelly grinned again.
‘Come on, let’s get ready.’ I was feeling nervy and on edge. I gave the blackout curtain at the kitchen window a tug to make sure it was properly closed.
Nelly nodded. ‘It’s still early.’
‘I know. I just feel uneasy.’
‘Bombers’ moon, isn’t it?’
‘It’s so clear tonight.’
And as if I’d made it so, the siren suddenly began to screech. Nelly and I both jumped.
‘Early,’ she said. ‘Come on, then.’ She tugged my sleeve gently. ‘Check the gas, and I’ll grab our coats.’
‘No coat needed, darling,’ Nelly drawled. ‘I’ll get my robe.’
For Christmas, Percy had given Nelly the most beautiful robe. It was made of some silky brightly coloured material with fringing on the sleeves. It was ridiculously over the top but she loved it. And I loved Percy for choosing it for her, because it was absolutely perfect for Nelly.
It was very glamorous – like something you’d see in the pages of a magazine and definitely designed for women who wafted round fabulous apartments in New York rather than maisonettes in South East London.
Since Christmas she’d put it on whenever there was a raid ‘so I look glamorous if I’m ever in need of being rescued’.
I thought she was mad because it was a bitterly cold winter.
I preferred to wrap up warm in my coat and as many layers as I could fit underneath.
I darted into the kitchen and made sure everything was turned off.
Nelly pulled on her robe and, because she was prone to boredom stuck inside the shelter for hours, collected a pile of books and a newspaper, and a pack of cards.
Then we went downstairs, and I put on my coat as we went.
Mrs Gold came out of her front door just as we reached the bottom.
‘Oh, girls, lovely,’ she said. ‘Mr Gold’s at work and I wasn’t sure if I’d be alone in that blasted shelter tonight.’
She was struggling holding a pile of folders full of papers, and with her coat draped over her shoulders. On top of the pile were the gloves Nelly and I had made her as a Christmas gift. Touched that she was using them, I went to her and helped her into her jacket.
As she pushed her arm into the sleeve, I noticed that several of the documents she was trying to stuff into the folder on top were stamped “Confidential”. And one of them appeared to be in German.
Mrs Gold saw me glance at the papers and shoved them in, shutting the folder firmly. ‘Awfully boring,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe I have to bring typing home from the office. We’re terribly short-staffed.’
I looked over her shoulder through her front door, which opened directly into the Golds’ lounge, and where I couldn’t see any typewriter. Mrs Gold shut the door with a bang. ‘We should hurry,’ she said.
The moon was so bright outside, it was like daylight. The bombers would have no trouble finding London tonight.
We walked round to the back of the house, then stood for a minute in the garden, feeling the sharp evening air on our cheeks.
In wonder, we looked around the garden, hearing shouts from other houses as people hurried to their shelters.
A car went by, grabbing my attention, and I looked along the side return next to the house and into the street.
There, on the other side of the road, was Jackson.
At least I thought it was Jackson, standing stock-still on the pavement, looking up at our house.
I gasped. But then a cloud covered the moon and the garden went dark.
And when the cloud moved away again, there was no one there. Perhaps I’d been imagining it.
The distant boom of the anti-aircraft gun, which was only a couple of miles away, told us the planes were approaching. Then, from overhead, we heard them. Louder than they’d ever been so far. As one, we all turned and looked up, to see them coming from the south, in awful, sinister formation.
‘We need to get into the shelter,’ Mrs Gold said. She sounded rattled, which was unusual. She set off down the garden, and Nelly and I followed.
The plane engines were louder now, and Nelly grabbed my arm in fright as we heard the whistle that meant a bomb had dropped.
‘The railway line will be shining in the moonlight,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be so easy for them tonight.’
‘Inside,’ Mrs Gold said briskly. She yanked open the door of the shelter and went down the few stairs and we followed.
It was freezing inside and smelled dank and damp.
I thought that for as long as I lived, if this war ever ended, I would never again go underground.
No tube trains. No houses with cellars. I would stay above ground in the fresh air.
Mrs Gold lit the lamp and we blinked in the dim light.
I sat down on one of the narrow beds. It was so early – we would be here for hours.
I wondered if it had been Jackson I’d seen outside the house, and if it was, where he was now.
Home safely, I hoped. Though I didn’t like him I didn’t wish him ill.
Another crash made us all jump.
‘Blast,’ Nelly said, going through her pile of entertainment. ‘I don’t have the poetry book Percy bought me. I definitely picked it up, it was on top of everything else.’
‘Perhaps you dropped it?’ I said, privately thinking she’d read those poems a million times already and surely she knew them all off by heart by now?
Nelly clutched her chest. ‘I stumbled when we were in the garden,’ she said. ‘When that cloud covered the moon for a moment, I lost my footing. Maybe I dropped it then?’
‘Oh well,’ said Mrs Gold. ‘It’ll still be there in the morning. Who fancies a game of gin rummy?’
‘I’d rather have a gin,’ said Nelly gloomily. She tilted her head, listening to the planes overhead. ‘I’ll just go and have a quick look. It’ll be on the path, I’m sure.’
‘Nell, I don’t think that’s a very good idea,’ I said.
‘It’s fine, Elsie.’ She tutted at me, and I looked at Mrs Gold, who shrugged her shoulders as if to say “what can you do?”
Nelly pushed open the door and went up the two steps to the garden. ‘God,’ she said. ‘Look at this.’
‘What is it?’ I leaned out of the entrance to see what she was talking about and gasped as I saw the stream of planes overhead.
The engines were deafening and I thought about the people in the East End, knowing they were coming – probably hearing them already – and bracing themselves for the destruction to come.
‘Maybe we should go to the hospital,’ I said, to myself really. ‘We’ll be needed.’
‘Not now. It’s not safe.’ Mrs Gold had squeezed in next to me and was looking up at the sky, white-faced. She raised her voice over the sound of the planes and shouted: ‘Come on, Nelly, come back.’
Nelly’s book was lying on the path, quite close to the house, its white cover gleaming in the moonlight.
Nelly called something over her shoulder but I couldn’t hear her properly. The planes overhead were even louder now, their engines roaring. They were so low I wanted to duck down and cover my head with my arms.
‘Nelly, come back,’ I yelled, but I knew she couldn’t hear us.
She ran along the path, scooped up the book, and turned back to us, holding it high in triumph.
There was a whistling sound from overhead and an enormous, blinding flash.
It felt, for a second, as though all the air had been sucked from where we stood, with a whooshing sensation.
Everything was silent and the world slowed down, and then it rushed back at me, with a horrifying roar and a blast of hot air that was so powerful it knocked me off my feet and sent me flying into the back of the Anderson shelter.
And then everything went dark.
*
I was dazed for a moment, not completely sure what had happened as I heard the bangs and thuds around me. But then the horror engulfed me again and I struggled to my feet.
‘Nelly,’ I gasped.
Mrs Gold was getting up too. She had blood trickling down her face. She put her hand to her forehead and then glanced at her fingers, dark with sticky liquid, and she looked at me with a confused frown. I knew I should help her, but …
‘Nelly,’ I said again.
Like a cloud passing from the sun, Mrs Gold’s bewildered expression cleared.
‘Oh Lord, Nelly,’ she said.
As one, we both rushed to the door of the shelter – which was gone, blown off by the force of the blast, it seemed – and in absolute shock and dismay, we looked out on to a scene of devastation.
The air was filled with smoke and dust and it was difficult to see what was happening.
I screwed my eyes up against the grit that was flying around everywhere and tried to make sense of it all.
Our house hadn’t been hit. At least, I could see it silhouetted against the orange flames that were burning and knew it was standing. But I couldn’t see Nelly.
Bitter smoke hit my throat and made me gasp for air and I coughed violently.
‘Here,’ Mrs Gold nudged me and pushed a scarf into my hands. ‘Use this.’
I tied the fabric over my nose and mouth and made to crawl out of the shelter. But Mrs Gold gripped my thighs. ‘We should stay here,’ she said.
I looked at her over my shoulder. ‘I need to find Nelly.’ I kicked my legs so she’d let go, and clambered up on to the lawn – what was left of it.
‘Nelly?’ I bellowed. But there was so much noise – sirens, and shouts, and screams and crashes – that I could barely hear my own voice.
And then ahead of me a figure rose up. So scared and disorientated was I that for a crazed moment I thought it was an angel with fiery wings, coming to take me to the afterlife, with an unworldly cry.
But I blinked and I suddenly understood it was no angel – it was Nelly.
My lovely, darling Nelly with her robe alight and flapping in the wind. And she was howling in fear and pain.
‘Get the blankets,’ I screeched over my shoulder to Mrs Gold. ‘Quickly!’
Keeping low to the ground I scurried along the garden to where Nelly stood screaming, and without thinking, I grabbed her round her shins and rugby-tackled her on to the grass. I was acting on instinct, and I just knew I had to stop the flames however I could.
I could barely see a thing, but I heard Mrs Gold next to me, her breathing ragged and raspy, and I reached up so I could take the blanket she pushed towards me.
With Nelly on the ground, I covered her now silent body with the blanket and rolled her up, pushing her this way and that, until I was certain the flames were out, talking all the time in case she could hear me.
‘It’s going to be all right, Nell,’ I muttered.
‘You’re going to be fine. It’s all going to be all right. ’
Nelly was still and quiet and my heart was thumping so hard in my chest, I thought I might be sick or pass out, but I unwrapped the blanket and put my hand to my best friend’s breastbone and felt, with utter, glorious relief, the rise and fall of her breath.
‘She’s alive,’ I said. ‘She’s alive.’
I felt rather than saw Mrs Gold scramble to her feet and disappear. ‘Come on, Nelly,’ I said. ‘Keep breathing. Keep going.’
Nelly’s breaths were shallow and gasping, and I was frightened for her.
I knew we had to get her to hospital. I couldn’t see her properly because of the smoke and dust, but I knew she had to be terribly burned.
And, I thought, looking around me, it wasn’t safe to be here.
The fence was ablaze, one of the trees in the garden was burning like a fiery torch, and our neighbours’ house was gone. Simply gone.
‘Elsie?’ Mrs Gold was back, this time with some other people. ‘Elsie, these women will help Nelly.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ I breathed.
Unsteadily I got to my feet. There were two ambulance drivers there – women I vaguely recognised from the hospital – and behind them two firewomen, pointing their hose at the fence to make sure we could get out of the garden safely.
‘She’s breathing,’ I said, trying to sound professional. ‘She’s alive. But I think she’s burned. She was alight.’ My voice caught on the words. ‘She was burning.’
‘You did well,’ one ambulance woman said. ‘You saved her. We can take her now.’
‘Mrs Gold needs help too,’ I said. ‘She’s bleeding.’
I heard Mrs Gold’s protests that she was fine, but I ignored them. ‘Help them both,’ I said urgently. And then, all my energy spent, I sank to the ground and cried.