The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(31)



‘No, Jean, no, you can’t die. We need you.’ A desperate sob rose in Sarah’s throat. She didn’t want to be on duty alone; she now felt desperately afraid and unable to cope, and swamped with sorrow for her colleague, who had been chatting and drinking tea only a matter of minutes ago. And her children – she had two children. Sarah’s head dropped to her chest as she cried for her fallen comrade.

‘Come now, nurse, this is no place for you.’ The voice of the ARP warden rang out. It was not Pop, but his colleague who patrolled this area. ‘What have we here? No, I’m afraid you can do no good by staying with her. Friend of yours, was she? We’ll get her taken care of, don’t you worry, but you can’t stay here. There’ve been a lot of fires at the docks. We’ve got to expect injuries from all the flying debris.’

Dimly Sarah recalled that the docks had suffered an onslaught yesterday as well. She shook her head but allowed the man to help her to her feet.

The ARP warden noticed how young this nurse was, how pale her face in the light from the fires all around, but he knew that showing sympathy now would be of no avail. It would help nobody if she broke down. So he took her firmly by the arm and walked her back to the nurses’ station along the road, talking to her all the while. ‘That’s right, you’re doing well. I’ll get reinforcements sent across to help you, but you are needed at your post. Plenty of places near here have taken a battering and that’s only what we have heard of so far. I’m sorry about your friend but you have to prepare for a busy night, nurse.’

Sarah nodded, wearily wiping her eyes. Her breath was returning to normal. She couldn’t let herself fall apart or Jean would have died for nothing. Whatever happened, she had to keep the nurses’ station open and functioning – people’s lives depended on it. She brushed the charred smuts from her sleeves and straightened up.

‘I’ll be all right,’ she assured the warden.

‘That’s the spirit.’ They had reached the door of the station. Already they could make out the shape of an ambulance racing down the street. ‘Chin up, nurse. We’re relying on you.’

Danny looked around at the mostly familiar faces crowded into the shelter. Rita had fallen asleep, her head resting on Violet’s shoulder, while Violet had nodded off with her head bent over little Georgie, safely wedged on her lap. He’d been fractious to start with but had soon calmed down, with his devoted aunts playing with him and soothing him. Rita had assured them all that Nancy would have gone with her detested mother-in-law to the shelter nearest her house, so there was no need to worry on that score. Ruby, that strange young woman who nobody knew much about, had remained awake for ages, cautiously taking note of everything around her, but had finally dropped off about ten minutes ago, sitting bolt upright as if ready to flee at any moment.

Danny sighed, wondering if Sarah was all right. She was so brave, taking on so much work at such a young age. She got it from Pop and Dolly, of course. It made him all the more frustrated not to be helping in any significant way. He’d gone back to work on the docks but was restricted to light duties, which mainly meant going round with a clipboard counting crates. All right, someone had to do it, but it didn’t have to be him. Tommy could have done it, it was so simple and repetitive. It exercised neither his body nor his mind, and he was bored stiff. Come to think of it, Tommy would have been as well. He was better off where he was, chasing the goats and causing cheerful mayhem on the farm.

Danny’s irritation at the world in general was keeping him awake, although he reasoned he could do his job half-asleep anyway. Still, he was finally beginning to doze off, wondering in a confused way what Jack was up to at that moment and what he’d like to do on his leave, when he was jolted back to consciousness by an earth-shattering detonation. Immediately Georgie started crying, and he wasn’t the only one. The shelter shook with the reverberations.

‘Keep calm, everyone, keep calm, we’re all right in here,’ he said loudly. He hoped it was true; that explosion had sounded terribly close. Even though he wasn’t in uniform, he had been surprised to find people listened to him these days. They didn’t consider him the young tearaway any more; after they’d learned he had been a hero in the fire that had nearly cost him his life, he’d earned a new respect on the streets around the Dock Road. Now he realised it was his job to contain the situation here. There simply wasn’t room for a mass panic.

Slowly he moved around the over-full shelter, trying not to step on anyone, offering reassurance that all would be well as long as everyone stayed put and didn’t try to rush outside or have a screaming fit here. He looked in alarm at Ruby, who seemed on the verge of losing control, but Rita had woken fully and was now with her, gently talking to her. Violet was shushing Georgie, who’d been yelling at the top of his lungs in sheer terror at the loud explosion. Danny shook his head. You and me both, pal, he thought. There’s times I feel like letting go like that too. But now was not the time or place.

Keeping his steady smile fixed to his face, he made his way back to his narrow space on the bench at the back. There was now nothing to be done but wait until the all-clear. But what would they find when they finally emerged from their shelter on this most terrible of nights for their beloved city?





CHAPTER TWELVE


Frank Feeny struggled to adjust to the bright glare of daylight after the relative dimness of the bunker, where he’d been on duty all night. It was a fine May morning, but all about him were signs of destruction. The centre of the city he thought he knew so well had been transformed. Carefully making his way over the remains of shattered buildings, he stared around him in horrified disbelief. Of course they’d known from their underground offices that there had been a severe raid taking place above ground, but knowing it in theory and seeing it in practice were two very different things. Now the grim reality hit him.

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