The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(85)
CHAPTER THIRTY
‘It’s all right, Ruby, they say maybe you can go home tomorrow.’ Rita smoothed the pillowcase made of starched hospital linen. It had come as a tremendous shock to her to find the young woman admitted to the ward, even though it wasn’t the one where she was working herself. The sister in charge had expressed her concern, as Ruby hadn’t said a word since she’d arrived, on the morning after the worst raid for ages. They’d been able to treat her leg, which turned out to be broken as well as cut to ribbons by shattered glass, but the sister was worried that she might have taken a blow to the head, as she seemed unable to speak.
Rita was pretty sure it was shock rather than a physical blow that had silenced Ruby. Sarah had explained what had happened – the encounter with the vicious old neighbour, being denied entry to the shelter, Ruby running in terror along the dock road as the raid blazed all around them. Then Danny, Sarah and Ruby had spent the best part of the night huddled in the porch of the Sailor’s Rest, barely safer than if they’d been out in the street. It was no wonder Ruby’s senses were reeling. She must have been in agony – Sarah’s efforts to clean the wounds had staved off infection, but they hadn’t known about the broken bone. Now Ruby’s leg was in a cast, but as for what her mind had endured, that was a different matter. She was vulnerable and sensitive at the best of times; how would she cope with being called a bastard in public? Rita wasn’t even sure if Ruby knew what it meant, but her heart went out to the frightened young woman, whose pale-blonde hair was spread like a halo over the pristine pillow.
Rita herself had spent the night of the raid on a makeshift bed in the nurses’ welfare area, curled under a table and wrapped in a spare blanket. The casualties had been high and she’d been able to snatch only a few hours’ sleep. She’d worked extra shifts and had hardly been back to Empire Street since it happened. She’d forced herself to focus on her work, to be professional and caring while keeping all emotion at bay, or else she knew she’d simply collapse. It was too much: the sheer numbers of injured people, what had happened to Ruby, and on top of it all the news about Elliott dying. She couldn’t take it in. He was so desperately needed at the hospital, for his calm kindness, his steadiness under pressure, his deep medical knowledge which he’d never vaunted. As for what Kitty must be feeling … no, Rita couldn’t let herself even imagine it.
Now she sat in the uncomfortable visitor’s chair and wondered if Ruby would ever come back to them. The young woman’s skin was paler than ever, her smooth face making her seem once again more like a child than somebody of twenty-one years of age. Her eyes were shut. Rita prayed that her mind was undamaged, and that all the improvements of the past few months hadn’t been destroyed by one night of horror. If only Mrs Pinkerton hadn’t chosen that very moment to go to the shelter. If only Dolly had been with them. If only Rita hadn’t been on duty. Yet she couldn’t change what had happened, and now she had to face the grim fact that Ruby might not recover.
Maeve came past, her arms full of folded towels. ‘Any change?’ She stopped behind Rita, her eyes full of concern. ‘Has she woken up yet?’
Rita shook her head. ‘The sister said she’s opened her eyes for a while but still hasn’t said a word. I think she’s sleeping now but it’s hard to tell.’
‘Maybe that’s the best thing for her,’ Maeve said comfortingly. ‘After what she’s been through, it’s the natural way for the body and mind to repair itself. You can’t beat a good sleep.’
‘True.’ Rita tried to remember the last time she’d had such a thing. ‘But it’s been days now. I can’t help worrying. What will become of her? Oh, I could just kill that neighbour with her big old mouth.’
‘Don’t say it,’ Maeve replied. ‘I know what you mean though – fancy coming out with such a thing and then not letting them in the shelter. After all your family do for the street and everyone around it. That’s sheer ingratitude, on top of being monstrously cruel.’
Rita sighed. ‘Mam was beside herself when she found out. She’d got Violet and Georgie settled at the far end of the shelter and didn’t hear a thing, what with all the bombing and ack-ack gunfire. They assumed Sarah and Ruby were safe somewhere else. She went round to Mrs Pinkerton’s and tore her off a strip once she found out about it, but the damage has been done. And Ruby’s suffering the consequences.’ Again she smoothed the pillowcase, wanting to reach out to the girl who’d arrived as a stranger but who was now close to her heart. She couldn’t come to permanent harm. How would she explain it to Michael and Megan? They’d be heartbroken if anything happened to their companion. While the adult world condemned her for being different, the children had taken to her instantly, recognising a kind soul. They would never understand the viciousness of the attack on her, the self-righteous snobbery that lay behind it. Now Ruby, who was blameless in the whole affair, lay still in her hospital bed.
‘Shall I fetch you something?’ Maeve asked, knowing that Rita had been on her feet all day and had barely stopped for a break since she started her shift. ‘How about a nice cuppa? I’ll bring it over, Sister won’t mind.’
Rita realised she was parched. ‘That’s good of you, Maeve, I’d love one.’ She turned to her friend in gratitude.