If it hadn’t been for the twins, Sarah and Samantha May, who had some years previously come to them near to starving after their father abandoned them, she wasn’t sure what she would’ve done. Wendy had been instrumental in rescuing them when their uncaring aunt had tried to separate them and she’d accompanied them to their new home in France when their mother’s sister had claimed them, seeing them settled and happy before returning to London. When a couple of years or so later, Andre died and Wendy had wept bitter tears, Sarah had wound loving arms about her and sung her a lullaby in French, and, in remembering all the young girl had suffered, loving her and promising her that she wouldn’t be sad and she would always be her friend, Wendy had found solace.
Eventually, she’d made a nice home for herself above a sweet shop just off Commercial Road, but she knew Billy wouldn’t be able to afford anything like her flat on his wages; it was hard for youngsters with no family to find anywhere decent to live, even though a lot of new building had been going on since the war. If you didn’t dwell on the loss of life, Hitler had done them a favour really, bombing the slums, because there were better homes to be had now; flats and council houses further out in the suburbs. Yet Wendy hated the war and everything to do with it; she’d lost two men she loved to that awful war, and she knew she would never risk her heart again.
She was a nurse and that would be her life, just as it had been Sister Beatrice’s, even though she wasn’t thinking of becoming a nun. Wendy sensed that something terrible had happened to Sister Beatrice when she was a young woman. It wasn’t just that she’d lost a man she loved – no, it was more than that, because it had gone too deep for her ever to recover. Sister never spoke of her past and Wendy wouldn’t dream of asking her. They were friends and relied on one another in their work, but it didn’t go further than that … she couldn’t ask personal details.
Wendy was thoughtful as she started writing up her report for the day. Nurse Paula would be coming to take over in another twenty minutes. Wendy was visiting Nan and Eddie that evening; they’d asked her to supper to celebrate Eddie’s birthday. He was seventy-two and as forgetful as ever, but he and Nan were like family to Wendy. Alice and her husband Bob would be there too; they had three children now and Alice had given up her part-time work as a carer at St Saviour’s. She didn’t need to work now that her husband had a nice little business of his own. He was in partnership with Alice’s cousin Eric, and was married to Michelle, who had worked with Wendy as a nurse when she first arrived. Michelle had one child but had confided to Wendy that she was expecting her second, and so would be leaving, because with two children she wouldn’t be able to manage to work, at least until they started school – and that meant they would be short-staffed again. They had temporary nurses in to cover holidays, and Paula helped out when she could, but they really did need another full-time nurse.
Wendy had just finished her report when Paula came in. She looked cold and was rubbing her hands.
‘The wind is bitter this evening,’ she told Wendy. ‘You want to wrap up well because you’ll feel it when you get out.’
‘It’s supposed to be spring,’ Wendy said and pulled a wry face. ‘Billy came and fixed the trolley for us. He’s very good at it but he wants a better job so he can get married.’
‘He’s far too young to think about it yet,’ Paula said and shook her head. ‘I’m sure Mary Ellen will tell him she’s not ready to marry yet anyway.’
‘Have you seen her recently?’
‘Yes. I met her in the market just this morning. She was on a break from her job at that factory. She’d popped out to do some shopping for her boss. Apparently, he’s a widower and lives alone now that his kids are grown up …’
Paula broke off as they heard a commotion and then someone burst into the ward. The boy was angry and looked as if he’d been fighting the harassed police sergeant who followed him.
‘Get off me,’ the lad said. ‘I ain’t going to let her wash me. I can look after myself.’
‘I’m sorry, Staff Nurse,’ Sergeant Sallis said. ‘Your carer was just trying to tell them they needed to be bathed and looked at and he broke away from her … Come on, Archie lad, let the young lady look after you. She’s only doing her job.’
‘I’ve told you, we can wash ourselves. We’re not dirty and we’ve not got nits or fleas. Mum kept us proper and I’ve made sure June washes every morning and night. If you’d left us alone, we could’ve looked after ourselves at home …’
‘How were you goin’ to do that, lad?’ Sergeant Sallis asked mildly. ‘You’re still at school. You couldn’t earn enough to feed yourselves, let alone pay the rent and the gas. Besides, the landlord wanted you out of the house, because it’s coming down. Sister Beatrice says you can stay here until we sort your mum out …’
‘She didn’t do it,’ Archie said, glaring at him and then at the nurses. ‘Mum ain’t a thief. She’d belt me round the ear if I pinched anything. I know she didn’t do what they say she did …’
‘I believe you, lad,’ Sergeant Sallis said, ‘but there’s evidence that says she did …’
‘It’s false,’ Archie said and looked angry. ‘She told me someone had set her up, made it look as if she was guilty, but I know Mum wouldn’t do anything like that. She just wouldn’t, however hard-up she was …’
‘We’ll get to the bottom of it,’ Sergeant Sallis promised, but looking at his face Wendy could tell he was worried. ‘Do you know anyone who has it in for your mother, lad? Give me a hint and I’ll do what I can, I give you my word.’
‘She didn’t tell me, but I know she was bothered about something,’ Archie said. ‘She wouldn’t let on, because she wouldn’t want to upset us – and we don’t need to be taken into care. Mum will be home soon and she’ll look after us.’
‘Well, until she is, you’re lucky to be brought here,’ Wendy told him. ‘Look, I’ll tell Tilly that you can wash yourselves – but I need to examine you to make sure you don’t have anything infectious, measles or something like that, all right?’
Archie thought for a moment and then inclined his head reluctantly. ‘As long as you don’t start washing our hair with that horrible stuff like the school nurse does to the kids with nits.’
‘I promise,’ Wendy said, smiled at Archie and went out into the hall with him. ‘You don’t need to stop any longer, Sergeant. Archie is going to be sensible now. We have to look after June, don’t we?’ She looked at the truculent lad and saw him nod. ‘At least here you will have decent food and you don’t have to worry about the rent until your mother comes back.’
‘What will happen to all our things? The landlord says we have to get out and they’re going to pull our row down – but I don’t know what to do with our things.’
‘I’ll talk to Sister Beatrice. She’s the Warden here. I can’t promise anything, but someone ought to be responsible. Perhaps we can find storage for you. Sister knows lots of people and she may be able to arrange it.’
Wendy was thinking it was a job for Angela Adderbury. If she’d been here she would have known someone who could store the family’s possessions, but all Wendy could do was ask Sister for advice.
‘All right …’ Archie said grudgingly. ‘But we shan’t be here long. Mum will be home soon and she’ll find us somewhere to live. I know she didn’t take that money and they can’t keep her in jail if she’s innocent, can they?’
Wendy murmured something appropriate, but she knew life wasn’t that simple or that fair. It wouldn’t be the first time an innocent woman, or man, come to that, had been jailed for a crime they didn’t commit. If life turned out the way it should, Wendy would have a husband