guessed as much,’ Dr Sanders said grimly. ‘I’m going down immediately,’ he told the men and they nodded briefly. Then to Jenny he said, ‘There’s an ambulance waiting. You use it.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’
‘There’s plenty,’ he said, ‘and I’m afraid I must insist. There’s another one on the way for Linda and she won’t be out for a while yet. I’ll have to examine her before they can even begin to start moving the staircase. You get yourself away.’
Jenny was surprised how weak she felt and she knew if it hadn’t have been for the two men either side of her she’d have stumbled on her face more than once. She was surprised at the knot of people gathered who gave a cheer as she appeared. Her gran was there, brought from the house when Jenny’s release was imminent. She was in her old brown coat and didn’t seem to notice the rain pouring down that had plastered her hair to her head.
Geraldine was there beside her. Jenny was touched that she’d come to stand, like her gran, in the rain.
‘Mother’s been beside herself with worry over you,’ Geraldine said, a hint of censure in her voice. ‘What a foolhardy thing to do.’
Jenny was too tired and worn down to make any sort of answer, but her gran wasn’t having Jenny spoken to like that. She said impatiently, ‘This isn’t the time or place to discuss things. Do you want to ride in the ambulance with your sister or not?’
‘No,’ Geraldine said. ‘I must go back to grandmother and mother; they’re minding the children for me. We’ll probably be up later to see you.’
Jenny waved her hand wearily, and Maureen just waited until they had Jenny settled before climbing in beside her.
‘Well, she’s not going away without one of her own beside her,’ she said and she gave a defiant wag of her head from which droplets of glistening rain fell. Jenny smiled and closed her eyes.
When she woke in the General Hospital the following morning, Jenny felt refreshed and more in charge of herself. Even though her hands and legs were heavily bandaged, she wondered why she was taking up a valuable bed that could be used for someone else. All day she fretted about it, but when she attempted to go to the bathroom before lunch, her legs felt so wobbly she was afraid they’d give way, and a scolding nurse brought a wheelchair and assisted her into it. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ she protested. ‘Not really.’
‘You are totally exhausted,’ the nurse said. ‘And suffering from exposure and shock, and you’ve inhaled a lot of dust. As well as that, you had a lot of nasty lacerations on your body, and some of them have become infected, including those on your hands. Is that list enough to be going on with?’
Jenny was surprised, but it certainly explained the weakness she felt. ‘Don’t rush to get better,’ the nurse said with a smile, as she helped her into the toilet. ‘You’ll only put yourself back if you do. We’ll tell you when we want you to sling your hook. All right?’
‘All right,’ Jenny said.
‘D’you want to get tidied up after lunch?’ the nurse went on. ‘A reporter from the Evening Mail wants to interview you and take a photograph. If you feel up to it, that is.’
‘Interview me?’ Jenny said in surprise. ‘Why?’
The nurse laughed. ‘You’re quite a celebrity my dear,’ she said.
‘Linda should be the celebrity,’ Jenny said. ‘Has she been brought here too?’
‘She has,’ the nurse said. ‘Poor wee soul, but she’s far too ill to be interviewed. Too ill for visitors really.’
Jenny felt her heart sink. She settled herself into the wheelchair again and asked anxiously, ‘She will be all right though, won’t she?’
‘Let’s hope so,’ the nurse said, pushing Jenny back to her bed. ‘And at least they managed to save her legs.’
Jenny was glad about that, for she’d been worried about it. ‘Does she know about her family?’ she asked.
‘No,’ the nurse answered. ‘She’s not strong enough for news like that yet. Mind you, they won’t be able to hold out much longer. She’s asking all the time, so I’m told.’
And Jenny knew she would be.
But if Linda wasn’t well enough for visitors, Jenny had plenty. Even her mother had made the journey once and came in a taxi with her grandmother and Geraldine – and her sister-in-law, Jan, had also been. One day she was surprised by a visit from Babs and Lily from the office at Dunlops. They brought her a little basket of fruit donated by the greengrocer on the Tyburn Road, and a sack of papers that had her picture and a story of the rescue plastered all over them. Her mother and grandmother had talked about her in glowing terms and spoke of her considerate and conscientious attitude.
‘In spite of personal grief’ her mother was reported as having said, ‘for Jenny had just learnt of the death of her beloved brother, she reported for duty that night as usual. She is truly a remarkable girl.’ Underneath the reporter had written: Anthony O’Leary was shot down over France. He was one of our brave Battle of Britain pilots to whom we all owe so much.
The evening papers carried the interview with Jenny herself, and she was described as ‘a dainty, pint-sized girl with a lovely freckled face and a gorgeous shock of auburn curls, who, despite her size, had the heart of a lion.’
The whole thing embarrassed Jenny, yet she could see how proud Babs and Lily were of her. They said everyone at work felt the same way and had all signed the card they’d brought in. She knew her mother and grandmother would revel in the attention.
The next day Jenny had the bandages removed from her hands and Linda endured the first of her many operations. The nurses said she would be ready for visitors in a day or two. Jenny was anxious to see her, but she was also concerned about where Linda would go when she recovered. She’d passed on all that she’d learnt about Linda’s relations to the authorities, but had heard nothing of the outcome of any investigations they’d done.
In the end, it was Beattie who told her. Jenny had never seen Beattie looking so sad as she did one afternoon when she came in to see her. Beattie laid a packet of sweets on the bed, gave a sigh and said, ‘How are you ducks?’
‘I’m all right,’ Jenny said. ‘In better shape that you, I think. What on earth is the matter?’
‘Oh, it’s young Linda,’ Beattie said. ‘I popped up to see her first. Poor little bugger. She’s been told about her mom and brothers today.’ Beattie paused. ‘Apparently she went wild, yelling and screaming and lashing out at them all, throwing things.’ There were tears in Beattie’s eyes. ‘Had to be sedated again, the nurses were telling me.’ She looked at Jenny and tears ran down her face as she said, ‘How the bleeding hell will she stand it? Answer me that.’
Jenny couldn’t, and could only guess at the extent of the child’s grief. She’d suffered agonies over Anthony’s death, and
