Black Cake(39)

Covey and Elly agreed that they belonged, first, to the hills and caverns and shores of the island where they had grown up, but they also felt that they were part of the culture that had influenced so many aspects of their daily lives. Moving to Great Britain was supposed to be like coming to stay in a relative’s home. A safe harbor for two young people who had lost everything else.

Of course, it wasn’t quite that way once they’d crossed the Atlantic. In London, Elly said, she had discovered herself to be a dual entity, a sort of hybrid, someone who was both at home and foreign, someone who was both welcome and not. At the end of the sixties, postwar relief and optimism were beginning to wear thin. People were worried over limited resources. This added fuel to ongoing bigotry, despite repeated reports of labor shortages, which the government had called on immigrants to help fill.

“Don’t worry, Elly,” Covey told her. “You’ll find a way.”

“I know,” Elly said, folding the map now. “I will. But what about you?”

“Me?” Covey breathed in slowly, deeply. Say nothing, Covey. Say nothing. “Well, the nursing is a fine opportunity for me.”

“But with the certificate that you’re getting, you won’t get the better wages and you won’t get the promotions. You know they won’t let many of us island girls go for the higher-level certificates.”

Covey looked down at her hands, dry and cracked where her fingers met her palms. She seemed to be spending more time cleaning bedpans and commodes than treating patients. Was Elly right?

“It’s fine for me, for now,” Covey said. She kept looking down. “I’m not sure what I would do otherwise.” Which was the truth.

But Coventina wasn’t cut out to be a nurse, Elly could see that. Just as Elly was not. For Elly, the nursing was a means to an end and she was already planning her next steps. She had never shared her ambitions with anyone until the night she told Covey about her plans to study geology. She’d never even told Sister Mary.

When the time came, Elly approached her advisor about helping her to enroll in a university course in geology. True, her science background was limited to mostly biology and chemistry, she said, but she had done quite a bit of reading in geology on her own. She was convinced that she could qualify for the course of study that she wanted.

Elly fingered a shell in her jacket pocket as she laid out her argument. She had realized that it would take some convincing, but she hadn’t expected to fail. The same woman who’d told her what a fine mind she had for the sciences was now refusing to give her a recommendation. Elly squeezed the shell so hard between her fingers that it snapped.

Her advisor reminded her that the national healthcare system offered ample opportunities to promising young islanders with her training. Perhaps, her advisor said, she could recommend Elly for an advanced nursing course? But Elly was already walking out of the matron’s office. Elly had a dream to realize.

Walking home that evening, Elly told Covey about her plan.

“I need to go where they won’t force me to remain a nurse. I need to go back across the Atlantic, Covey. They’d take me in Canada.”

“Canada?” Covey said. “But how?”

“Maybe I don’t even need Canada. But I do need to leave here, if they won’t help me, and I need to find better wages or pay less money for lodgings. I need to save money and figure out how to get into another university.”

“But you’re supposed to stay. It’s part of our training agreement.”

“Yes. Which is why we need to get far away from here, and as quickly as possible.”

“We?”

“Yes, Coventina. We.” Elly stopped walking, blocked Covey’s path. “What are you doing here? Half the time, you don’t even sleep at night. You think I haven’t noticed? Why would you stay? We could change cities. It could be nice.”

There was a train they could take to another city, another cold city, yes, but on the sea, and Elly knew someone who knew someone else who could get them both clerical positions in a wealthy trading company.

“They trade with the islands,” Elly said. “There are people from the Caribbean there.” Her eyes were gleaming now. “You might meet a nice lad,” she said.

Covey was tired. She felt as though she’d had enough change for a while. But Elly was ready to go and where would Covey be without her? Elly was Covey’s friend. And because Elly was determined to take her true place in the world, Covey let herself be caught up in her dream. The two of them packed their bags and set out for Edinburgh. The train sped through an impossibly green countryside that lightened Covey’s mood. Covey told herself that it was the way to survive, to keep putting distance between her and her life before. To stop looking back, to think about Gibbs a little less every day.





Becoming Elly





At first, Covey remembered very little. The blare of a horn, the cry of metal wheels against the tracks, the tumbling, tumbling, tumbling.

When she came to, she grabbed the strap of her friend’s handbag, the first thing she was able to recognize through the cloud of dust and smoke. Much later, she would remember the screams, the smells, her body hurting everywhere, the burn of hot metal against her knees as she crawled, calling for Elly. Covey caught a glimpse of Elly’s arm and the watch that she had proudly purchased at the emporium. She grabbed hold of her friend’s arm. Elly, Elly! she cried. Then she saw the rest of Elly and the sight of her friend caused Covey to faint.