Love Me Tender. Anne Bennett
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never prayed before. Her prayers were partially answered, for in early June she got a letter saying that Barry was in a military hospital on the south coast. Her relief was short-lived though, for only minutes later Bridie arrived wailing at the door, waving a telegram in her hand and crying that Pat was missing, presumed dead.
Kathy, though bitterly upset over the news about Pat, was nevertheless determined to see Barry and check he was all right. Her parents thought it was the last thing on earth she should do. ‘They’ll transfer him nearer later,’ Mary said.
‘I don’t want to wait till later. I must see him now and at least know he’s all right. Maybe he has some news of the others.’
‘Cutie, dear, think about it,’ Mary said. ‘Traipsing the country in your condition isn’t wise or sensible. God above, look what happened to wee Seamus.’
‘You’re taking a big risk, Kathy,’ Eamonn said, agreeing with his wife.
Kathy knew she was taking a big risk and her parents were justified in their concern – and she knew this headlong dash she was determined on could bring about the very thing she dreaded: a premature birth. But the urge to see Barry and reassure herself overrode her other fears. ‘I can’t just sit here fretting over him. I’ll go mad,’ she cried. ‘One way or the other, I’m going to make it to that south coast hospital as soon as is humanly possible. And what if he has news of Con, or Michael or Sean,’ she went on. ‘Don’t tell me you’re not as worried sick about them as I am?’ She looked at her parents, their faces creased and lined with anxiety and said more gently, ‘I’m going. Sensible or not, I’m going. Will you mind the weans for me?’
‘Aye, surely we will,’ Mary said. ‘You don’t have to ask, if you’re determined to go.’
‘I’m determined well enough,’ Kathy said. ‘And I’m away now to tell his mother, give her the good news that Barry is alive.’
‘Aye, poor soul,’ said Mary with feeling. ‘She’ll need something to hang on to, with the telegrams she had the other day. Lord, to hear of two sons killed in one day is hard to take.’
‘Och, woman, don’t be so daft,’ snapped Eamonn. ‘It doesn’t matter a damn when you hear it; to lose two sons would rip the heart out of you.’
The room fell silent and all had the same thought. The only one of the family they were sure about was Barry, and he was in hospital with God alone knew what injuries. Pat was missing, and of Sean, Michael or Con there was no news. They could all be casualties of this war, Kathy thought.
But Barry was alive, she told herself, and she held on to that thought. Nothing else mattered at that moment. She knew she wouldn’t rest until she saw him for herself. She needed to hold him close and tell herself that he was alive and going to stay that way.
Long before Kathy reached her destination she was feeling hungry and exhausted. Her journey had been subject to unexplained delays and stoppages, and the carriages were full of troops. Posters demanded, Is Your Journey Really Necessary? and she thought wearily that if it wasn’t, the way her trek had gone so far, she wouldn’t have made the effort.
Kathy could never remember travelling on a train before. She knew she must have done when she left Ireland with her parents, but she’d been just a child then and she had little recollection of her life before that of the back-to-back houses of Birmingham’s inner ring.
Since then she’d never once ventured out of the city, and was totally unprepared for the clamour, noise and bustle of New Street station. The clatter of trains, slamming of doors and shrill whistles of the porters mixed with the shouts and cries of the people thronging the platform – many in khaki, Kathy noticed – made her nervous.
A train clattered to a stop behind her with a squeal of brakes and a hiss of steam that seeped along its wheels. Suddenly there was a terrifying loud shriek from a train opposite and Kathy saw billows of steam emerging from a brass funnel. She could smell soot and smoke in the air, and the place was so draughty, her teeth began to chatter.
She glanced at the large clock hung above the station platform, wondering where her train was. The clock said ten twenty, and yet the train should have left at five past. When it eventually arrived, with a deafening rumble, she was quite unnerved, but the mass of people surged forward and she was swept along in the flow.
Once inside, everyone but Kathy seemed to know what to do. She trailed up and down the corridor looking for an empty, or near-empty, compartment, but the train was cram-packed.
Eventually a young soldier, seeing her pass back along the corridor again, stepped out of a compartment and said, ‘There’s room for you in here, missus, we’ll all budge up a bit.’
Kathy knew it would have to do and sat down thankfully, but as the train hurtled south, she realised she didn’t know where she was going to get off, for all the station names had been blacked out. She found it very unnerving and worried that she wouldn’t know when they reached Plymouth.
In the event, the soldiers helped her. Despite having three brothers, she hadn’t been used to meeting strange men in such numbers, and at first she found them intimidating. However, most were kindness itself, especially when they knew the purpose of her visit. ‘I didn’t realise it was so far away or that it would take so long to get here,’ she confided to a soldier who’d told her Plymouth was the next station.
‘Every journey takes hours in this war, missus,’ the soldier said. ‘Half our lives we spend waiting.’
Kathy looked at her watch – four o’clock – and knew it was doubtful she’d get home that night. She remembered Lizzie’s anxious face pressed to the window pane, watching her walk away. She’d wanted to come and see her daddy, and any other time Kathy might have taken her, but she knew wartime was not the time to haul children about the country, so she’d explained that Lizzie had to be very adult and grown-up and not make a fuss about things. The child was disappointed, but she said not a word and instead sat with a set, worried face waiting for her mother to return and tell her how her daddy was. The stoicism of it tore at Kathy’s heart.
‘Have you any more children?’ the soldier asked. ‘I can see you’re expecting, like my own wife back home.’
‘I have two,’ Kathy said. ‘A boy and a girl. Lizzie is nearly nine and Danny is six, and this one,’ Kathy said, indicating her stomach, ‘is due in July.’
‘It’s our first, Brenda’s and mine,’ the soldier said. ‘Due any day – can’t help wondering and hoping that she’ll be all right, you know?’
‘I’m sure she will,’ Kathy assured him. ‘After all, women have been doing it for years.’
‘Yes, I know, it’s just not being there with her…I worry a bit.’
‘I bet she worries more about you,’ Kathy said with feeling. ‘Barry was hardly ever out of my thoughts for long, and when I heard he’d been injured, my heart stopped beating for a minute or two.’
‘You don’t know how bad it is?’
‘No, they didn’t say.’
‘Well, if they’ve transferred him, he can’t be that bad.’
‘You think so?’ Kathy grasped the lifeline hopefully.
‘It’s what they say.’
At that moment the train gave a sudden lurch and the soldier turned to Kathy and said, ‘We’re coming in to Plymouth now. Wait for the crush to pass and I’ll get you a taxi.’
‘Oh, I don’t think…’
‘You’ll never find it on your own.’ And Kathy knew he was right and just nodded.
‘Have you a bag?’ he asked,