The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(54)

Wearily, Rita sank into a chair. She hadn’t got the energy to argue. She’d been run off her feet at the hospital yet again, even though there had been no major bombing incidents for weeks. That meant more patients were being transferred to them to recuperate, at the same time as emergency nurses were being sent to areas where they were most needed, leaving her ward short of staff. She knew in many ways it was sensible, and yet for her it made a difficult task nearly impossible.

Georgie ran towards her. ‘Reet!’ he shouted joyfully, and Rita bent over to pick him up. She kept to herself how much she missed the only other person to call her by that name. He hadn’t had any leave all summer, and from his letters she couldn’t work out where he was – which was only right, but it meant she worried at any news of convoys being struck, fearing that Jack might be among the injured. She buried her face in her nephew’s hair to hide her fears, and the action reminded her – as it always did – of how much she missed her own children.

‘Look what Auntie Violet has brought us,’ said Dolly, showing the little boy the tomato. ‘Shall I make you a sandwich?’ Georgie jumped off Rita’s lap and held on to his grandmother’s skirt, looking up at her with devotion. ‘Mmmmmm,’ he said.

Dolly turned to find the breadboard. ‘We could do with more butter,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any trips planned to the farm, Rita? Pop can take you next time if you like.’

Rita shrugged. ‘I’m not sure when I can go next. They’ll welcome us at any time so that’s not a problem, but we can’t spare anyone from the ward at the moment. I’d love nothing more but I’ll have to see.’ She picked at the frayed edge of her cardigan. ‘This is coming undone again. It seems like no time at all since I last sewed it up.’

Dolly considered the colour. ‘I’ve probably got something like that in my make-do-and-mend basket. Let me finish doing this for Georgie and I’ll fetch it.’

Rita sat back and for a moment closed her eyes, letting the comfort of being in her mother’s kitchen wash over her. How tempting it was just to stay here. Then another voice shook her out of her reverie. Nancy swung into the room, calling out to Georgie. ‘Oooh, what have you got there? Did Grannie make it for you? Why don’t you let Mummy have a bite?’

Typical, thought Rita, without rancour. Taking food from her own child’s mouth. That was enough to beat the band, but Nancy could get away with anything.

Dolly didn’t rise to it. ‘Sit down, Nancy, and leave the poor boy be. I’ll make you one of your own. There’s plenty of tomatoes to go round. Salt and pepper?’

Nancy nodded eagerly, her beautifully styled rolls of hair bobbing. ‘I missed lunch, I’d love one. Here, Georgie, have it back and finish it up like a good boy.’

‘Missed lunch?’ asked Violet. ‘Were you busy?’

‘I was! You’ll never guess,’ said Nancy. ‘I’m going to help with the WVS. They’ve got a canteen in the city centre doing refreshments for visiting servicemen. They need all the help they can get, you know, posted in a strange town and sometimes in a strange country. I’m going to be really doing my bit from now on, so you can’t tell me I’m not contributing any more.’ She gave Rita a glare before taking a huge bite of her sandwich.

‘Well, now, that is a surprise,’ said Dolly, who’d spent the past two years or thereabouts trying to get Nancy to join the local branch of which she herself was such a mainstay. ‘Are you sure you have to go all that way, pet? You could come along with me and then you wouldn’t be away from Georgie so much.’

Nancy nodded vigorously. ‘I appreciate your concern, Mam, but they said they were really short-handed and so I don’t mind making the sacrifice, I really don’t.’

Rita bit her lip. Trust Nancy to get the position where she’d be in the prime place to be chatted up by all the troops, and also right near the shops that remained open. She could spot her sister’s ulterior motives a mile off, though her mother often seemed to have a blind spot where Nancy was concerned.

‘That’s very good of you, Nancy,’ said Violet, knowing full well that it would be her and Dolly who’d be looking after Georgie in his mother’s place. But she didn’t mind in the slightest. It would be good practice for when she and Eddy had their own children – whenever that might be. He hadn’t been home for months, and often she went without a letter for weeks at a time – and then several would arrive at once. She knew she mustn’t grumble; there were so many worse off than herself.

Rita got to her feet, unable to put up with Nancy’s brazen behaviour a moment longer. ‘I’d better be off. Thanks for the tea, Mam.’

‘You know you don’t have to thank me,’ said Dolly, impulsively giving her eldest girl a hug. ‘You’re all skin and bones, Rita, my goodness me, whatever are you eating? Not enough to feed a bird. You want to take care of yourself, we don’t want Michael and Megan to have a skeleton for a mother.’

Rita tried to raise a smile. She was too tired to eat half of the time, even if she could grab a moment for a proper meal.

‘Wait, let me give you those tomatoes,’ said Violet, hurrying to separate some of them into a tin. ‘You take these. Shall I bring some more over tomorrow when I come to work?’