Chapter 39 Elsie #2
I stood up, wincing as pain shot up my leg from my ankle.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ I said, running my fingers through my gritty hair and watching dust drift down to the rug.
‘I don’t know how to make this better. Perhaps I should go to the police station and tell them everything? Tell them what I did.’
‘Absolutely not.’ Mrs Gold stood up too. She took my hands in hers. ‘You listen to me, Elsie. You did the right thing with Nelly. She was suffering terribly, and you did the best thing for her. This is a war, and any man on the battlefield would have done the same.’
I nodded, feeling my racing heartbeat begin to calm.
‘We can sort this out,’ she assured me. ‘We can make this right.’
‘How?’ I wailed. ‘I killed my best friend. How can we ever make this right?’
‘You ended her suffering like the compassionate, caring nurse you are,’ she said firmly. ‘And I think deep down you know you did the right thing. Don’t you?’
I nodded. ‘She was in such awful pain.’
‘There we are.’ Mrs Gold was thinking hard. ‘We need to tell her family.’
‘Yes, I have a message for them.’ I put my hand to my head. ‘Nelly wrote it in the book, but I remember it. I can write to her mother.’
‘Or,’ said Mrs Gold, ‘you can go to Ireland and tell her yourself.’
It was such an outlandish suggestion that I almost laughed. ‘Of course I can’t go to Ireland. There’s a war on, or hadn’t you noticed?’
‘Ireland isn’t in the war.’
I snorted. ‘How would I get there?’
‘Do you want to go?’
I thought about Nelly’s letters from home, about her enormous family and her mother’s conviction that there were plenty of jobs available in the hospitals in Ireland.
Then I thought about how my nerves jangled every time I heard a thump, even if it was someone dropping something heavy.
How tired I was from the nightly raids. How I’d lost Billy, and now Nelly, and how Harry wasn’t here, and I was alone.
And I thought about Jackson and his threats.
I knew no one would be likely to believe his accusations on their own, but if he somehow still had the book then things could be different.
Slowly, I nodded. ‘Could I work? Could I register as a nurse in Ireland?’
‘I don’t see that being a problem.’
‘I would feel bad, leaving the hospital and London when they need so much help.’
‘You’ve given more than your fair share to the war,’ Mrs Gold said. ‘I think you deserve a break.’
Suddenly, going to Ireland seemed like the answer to my prayers and I thought I couldn’t bear it if I couldn’t go. That I couldn’t stay in London for a second longer.
‘I want to go to Dublin,’ I said. ‘But how?’
‘We can get you on a ship. Merchant Navy probably.’
I stared at her, open-mouthed.
‘Don’t ask questions,’ she said. ‘I can’t tell you the answers anyway.’
‘But …’
She gave me a little smile. ‘Don’t ask questions,’ she repeated. ‘So, are you going to Ireland?’
‘I am.’ But then a sudden thought occurred to me. ‘No. I’m not.’
‘Why ever not.’
I put my face in my hands. ‘I’m pregnant,’ I mumbled. ‘At least, I think I’m pregnant. I wrote to Harry and told him a few days ago.’
‘Has he replied?’
‘Not yet.’
Mrs Gold gave a brisk nod. ‘Do you think he’ll stand by you?’
I thought about Harry and the lovely things he’d said. The way he’d held me so tightly and told me all about his family. And slowly I nodded. ‘I think so.’
‘This is all going to be all right,’ Mrs Gold said. ‘Do you trust me?’
What else could I do? ‘I do.’
‘First things first. I’m going to go and wake up Albert. We’re going to need him.’
She told me to sit down and then disappeared off into the bedroom, where I heard them talking in low voices.
I sat very still, my mind racing. What was happening?
Could I really look Nelly’s mother in the eye and tell her that her daughter had died?
But actually, I thought, I could. I could tell her Nelly wasn’t alone, that she went peacefully and that she wasn’t in pain.
That was all true. Maybe we could organise a memorial for her.
Put up a headstone, even. I wondered if I could ask Mrs Gold to make sure Nelly had a proper funeral.
I knew that her family would want to know she’d been properly looked after.
And as for me and the baby, well … If I was wrong about Harry then perhaps I could buy a cheap ring like Mrs Marsden who’d been on my ward back when the bombings first started, and tell everyone I was a widow.
There was so much to do. I felt sick with the worry of it all.
Eventually, Mrs Gold came back into the lounge. She’d got dressed and looked very smart in a suit with proper stockings.
‘Why don’t you go and have a bath and a sleep?’ she said. ‘Albert and I have some things to organise this morning. Can you pack a bag, make sure you have anything important – documents and whatnot – but don’t take too much. We’ll need to leave this afternoon.’
‘My head’s spinning,’ I said.
‘You’ll feel better after a snooze. Come on, up to bed with you. I’ll strap up that ankle for you later on.’
‘Thank you,’ I said as I struggled to my feet and headed for the door.
‘You’re welcome.’ Mrs Gold adjusted the cuffs of her blouse.
‘Mrs Gold?’ I paused by the front door. ‘You’re not really a secretary, are you?’
She smiled at me. ‘Don’t ask questions,’ she said.