Blitz (21 page)

The curtain over the door billowed and then flattened as someone opened the outer door to the street and came in, and then once the blacked-out outer door had been carefully closed, it opened to admit the newcomer, and Jessie beamed and surged to her feet, all miseries at once forgotten.

‘Robin! It’s a mitzvah – it’s a blessing to see you! How are you, dolly? And your nice friend? How are you?’ And she held out one hand graciously to Hamish who was standing behind Robin, bowing a little regally as she did so. She wasn’t as
forthcoming to him as she was to some of her customers, and Robin knew it, but she put that down to a sort of shyness because of Hamish’s size and also his rather exotic strangeness – for Scottish was very exotic to East End Jessie – and was glad of it. Jessie in a really affectionate mood could be more than a little overwhelming.

She settled them in a quiet table and told the kitchen what to send out to them – for none of her special customers ever actually ordered at Jessie’s. She knew what was best in the kitchen, and what was to be recommended and only a fool would argue with her, and then went to find them a half bottle of claret to go with it.

‘Wine’s getting harder and harder to get hold of,’ she grieved as she opened it for them, with an expert twist of her old wrist. ‘Since France went – well, it’s to be expected, hmm? Anyway, this’ll be enough for you two. I know you never drink much, Robin, and I’ve seen your friend here doesn’t either, so –’ And she set the bottle down in front of them and went away to supervise the kitchens, leaving Hamish and Robin alone at last.

Not that they were unduly bothered by Jessie’s attentions. Hamish had found her a little surprising the first time Robin had brought him here to have supper, when their nights off coincided, but had found her wholly delightful and said so. And no comment could have made anyone seem more acceptable to Robin than one that approved of her favourite aunt. ‘Not that I actually have any others,’ she told him. ‘But she’d be the best even if I had dozens. Do you have lots of relations?’

Indeed he had, and he had gone on to tell her of them, of aunts with names like Elspeth and Moira and uncles called Fred and Douglas and Jacob, and she had sat and listened, asking questions about his home life in a small and very tightly knit seaside town not too far from Aberdeen, and found him entirely fascinating.

It was inevitable she would, as she had told Chick, once she had discovered about the matter of the message that Hamish had told Sister Priestland he’d taken.

‘I mean, honestly, Chick, what more could anyone do for a person? He’d worked out what was going on and marched straight in with the most whopping great lie.’ She’d laughed then. ‘I told him, for someone with such a tender conscience, he certainly found it possible to lie like Ananias without any
hestitation at all. And he said lying didn’t matter as a sin as long as it was done for good honest reasons. And he’d lied for me for good reasons, knowing what a battleaxe old Priestland can be. ‘Not,’ she had added, ‘that I’ve ever actually noticed it.’

‘You will one of these nights,’ Chick said with considerable feeling. ‘At present you’re the blue-eyed girl on account of Meek hates you and anyone Meek hates, Sister likes on account of she loathes Meek. Silly, isn’t it? Ah well, women, you know. They make lousy guv’nors.’

‘They do not,’ Robin had said, flaring at once. ‘And you should be ashamed of yourself talking that way! You’re a woman.’

‘I am at that, and I hope I’d make a better fist of being in charge than the clots we’ve got here,’ Chick said. ‘I mean, they give women a bad name. Is it any wonder I get so sour? Look at the way Marshall is on Annie Zunz, and what about that absolute stinker, Mary O’Day, on Cloudesley? A worse bitch never wagged its tail. It’s no wonder I reckon women make bad bosses.’

‘Watch my mother sometimes,’ Robin said. ‘She’ll show you differently. And Jessie too, of course. They both run their business like – well, like the best of men.’

‘There aren’t many like that,’ Chick had said. ‘As well you know. Why else say they run their business like men? See what I mean? Anyway, enough about that. More about Hamish. Do tell me, is this the Big Romance?’ And she had rolled her eyes comically and even more so when Robin had blushed a little.

‘Such stuff! Of course not,’ she’d protested and refused to talk any more about him; but she had wondered. There was no doubt she was getting very fond of him, and she tried to analyse why. The fact that he had lied so gallantly for her, when it looked as though she were about to get into trouble, had of course been very endearing; there could be no better way to make a girl feel affectionate. But then there was the fact that she shared a secret with him. No one in the world, it turned out, not even his own mother or brother, knew of his disability. He’d kept it a secret somehow ever since it first happened when he was just twelve and had been locked in a cupboard by a sadistic schoolmaster. The fact that she knew was an accident of course, but nevertheless, she knew. And that made them feel especially close.

And that closeness did add fun to the night’s work on Casualty, when in the middle of the rush and hubbub they ran into each other and shared conspiratorial glances. Indeed she could not deny she was getting fond of him; why else should she bring him to her Auntie Jessie’s to feed him? It wasn’t just pity for a large and constantly hungry young man with small financial resources and few chances to eat well; it was affection.

Or so Robin thought, and tried not to think of too much. The implications were too complicated, what with the progress of her training to think about, and the war and the family; no, she couldn’t think about Hamish at all. So she didn’t. She just enjoyed being out with him sometimes, at a film or a theatre, when free tickets came the nurses’ way, as they sometimes did, or at Jessie’s, like tonight.

But even though she didn’t want to think about it, that didn’t mean others shared her views. Her Aunt Jessie in particular thought about it a good deal. And talked about it.

She had told Poppy the morning after the first time that Robin had taken Hamish to the restaurant that ‘the child has a fella in tow,’ and Poppy’s brows had snapped together in sudden anxiety.

‘What do you mean?’ she had said and looked sharply at Jessie. ‘Please, love, none of your fancy notions. I remember how you used to be with me, always on about getting settled and trying to find me a man, after Bobby died and – ’

‘Well, so what if I did?’ Jessie said comfortably. ‘Isn’t it just natural that I should want my girl to be well settled? Just as it’s natural I should show an interest in our little boobala, the same way. She’s a big girl already, Poppy – ’

‘Twenty-one, that’s all,’ Poppy said swiftly.

‘A big girl,’ Jessie went on inexorably. ‘And it’s natural she’ll be looking at the sort that wears pants and not panties! You’d have more to worry about if she didn’t. You want a girl in an Eton crop like those odd ones who only ever talks to fluffy girls?’

‘Jessie, for heaven’s sake – You can jump from one conclusion to another like – like a goat on a crag. Stick to the point, do!’

‘I am! There she is, as pretty as paint, and it’s time she was settled. War or not, life goes on, and she’s full of life. And she’s got this lovely-looking fella, very big he is, looks like a mountain to tell you the truth, and from Scotland. I ask you, Scotland!
Brought him here last night and very attentive he was – ’

‘I imagine he’s well-mannered then. Polite men always pay attention to their companions – ’

‘Well-mannered, phooey! He likes her! You could see that for miles.’

‘Jessie, for pity’s sake, stop it, will you? I’m sure they’re just friends. And it’s awful to gossip about Robin like this. I won’t do it. Now, about that order of herrings from Billingsgate. They could only let us have half of what we asked for and – ’

And that had been that from Jessie’s point of view, but not from Poppy’s. She had worried about Robin’s new friend, not simply because he was a man, but because, unusually for Robin, she hadn’t told her mother about him. And Poppy found that made her doubtful, to say the least.

So, when she came in tonight to see Jessie and saw them with their heads together in a corner, and so engrossed in their conversation that Robin didn’t even see her mother come in, she felt a worm of unease creep into her and wondered why.

Was it just motherly dislike of her child growing up and being adult enough to let men into her life? Hardly that; surely her own experience of love and sex had been good enough for her to want the same for her beloved child? If she could find a husband as loving and as reliable as David was, surely Poppy would feel delight for her daughter, rather than anything else. And yet, standing now in the shadow of the curtained doorway and looking across the restaurant, she felt that unease and didn’t know why. And then told herself not to be so stupid and to go and talk to them both.

By this time the restaurant had filled a little more and there were only a couple of tables unoccupied; an unusual thing on a night when there were, for once, no raids. It happened occasionally that the inner part of the East End was left in some peace, when factories and docks further east along the river were the targets, and on those occasions people came creeping out of the shelters looking for peace and comfort and often found it in Cable Street. So there was some animation in the place now, and it wasn’t until Poppy was almost beside them that Robin saw her.

She got to her feet at once. ‘Ma! How nice to see you! Come and sit down.’

‘I won’t disturb you –’ Poppy said, looking at Hamish, and
at once Robin said easily. ‘Oh, do! Hamish – May I introduce my mother, Poppy Deveen? Tell her to sit down, do. She’s just being shy.’

‘Of course, Mrs Deveen,’ Hamish said and held a chair for her. ‘You must join us. Mrs Braham has given us this half bottle of wine, and to tell the truth we neither of us really want any. Perhaps you’d have some of it to save our faces a little – ’

He seemed assured and relaxed and looking up at his broad and agreeable face Poppy relaxed a little. Just a friend, surely. No one special. But nice. A doctor perhaps –

‘It was Hamish who bailed me out over that confusion with the message from Norwich.’ Robin said with a somewhat studied off handedness. ‘He works in Casualty. He’s an orderly.’

Poppy’s expression didn’t change but at once it all slotted into place. He was a conchie of course; why else would so obviously healthy a young man be working at such a lowly job? And her heart swooped even further and she hated herself for the reaction. A man had a right to have a conscience, for God’s sake; who was she to despise one who chose not to join the services because he objected to killing? But it was no good. After her years in the trenches in the first war, and her time as Bobby’s wife watching him die from the gassing he had suffered, it was hard for her to accept as fully as she might the conscientious objector; but if he was a friend of Robin’s she’d have to. Somehow –

So she smiled as easily as she could, and said, ‘How nice!’ And then looked over her shoulder gratefully as Jessie came lumbering across from the kitchen bearing plates mounded with slices of pink salt beef and fried potatoes.

‘I got something special for these two,’ Jessie said and grinned at them. ‘This’ll make you feel you’ve eaten for once.’ And she slapped the plates down in front of them and then bent again to kiss her niece. ‘Poppy, it’s lovely to see you – but what are you doing here so late? I thought – ’

‘I came over for company actually,’ Poppy said. ‘David’s away on a story again, and they don’t need me at the canteen tonight and there I was with a night off and all on my own. I could have gone to bed after a hot bath but five inches of barely warm water doesn’t seem exactly luxurious even if it is patriotic, so I thought I’d come and have some supper with you. Goosey’s been in bed for ages, of course – ’

‘Lovely,’ Jessie said at once. ‘Come and sit at my table with me. I’ll fetch you some salt beef too.’ And with very obvious, even elephantine, tact, she tried to shift Poppy from Robin and Hamish’s table.

But none of them seemed to want to be parted. Hamish got to his feet at once and reached for the other chair and said, ‘Please, do sit here with us –’ just as Poppy said, ‘Oh, I don’t know if –’ and Robin said, ‘Oh, Auntie Jessie, do let’s make a party of it – ’

And so it was. Extra food was fetched and in a very short time indeed the four of them were laughing and chattering as though they’d know each other for years. Only Poppy was left with a nagging uncertainty as she saw her daughter look at Hamish from time to time and seem to light up at the sight of him; and she worried about that, because as far as she could see, Hamish wasn’t at all as illuminated when he looked at Robin. And surely, surely, he should have been if, that is, Jessie had been right in her suppositions?

It was at this point that two things happened; a tall man in a rather rumpled suit got up from his table on the far side of the restaurant and came over towards them and Jessie said suddenly, ‘The party, Poppy! Has it been decided? When and where is it? And shouldn’t we ask our Robin’s friend here to it, as well?’

‘Hello, Nurse Bradman, Mr Todd,’ the tall man said, just as Robin said to her mother, ‘Party? What party?’ and there was a little flurry as the occupants of the table looked round and Poppy opened her mouth to answer her daughter’s question, after throwing a dark look at Jessie.

It was the tall man who won the struggle for first place, if there was one; Robin looked at him and then smiled widely.

‘Why, it’s Dr Landow! How are you? How odd to see you here!’

‘Not at all odd. I come whenever I can,’ he said. ‘It’s one of the few good things in a naughty world. I saw you over here and I came to make a nuisance of myself because frankly, I’d like to meet your aunt.’ And he smiled at Jessie. ‘I’m what they’d call a fan, I suppose, if you were a film star. I just want to tell you how much I like your place and how much I admire you for keeping it all going in these hard times. It’s a real oasis in my life, and I’m sure it’s the same for many others.’