Part 26 (2/2)

Lady Dunfermline bit on her bottom lip, dreading what she might hear, and Josephine held her breath as she waited for an outburst, but the corporal was not feeling very expansive.

'Legs,' he replied.

'Sorry to hear that, old chap. How did it occur?'

'Shrapnel.'

The dignitary straightened up and stared down on the wounded corporal. 'Well I'm sure you feel proud and honoured to have done your duty for your King and Country, corporal. We all have our part to play in this war you know,' he said in a loud voice, glancing around at the smiling members of his entourage as they nodded their heads enthusiastically and cleared their throats.

The corporal gritted his teeth as he pulled himself up on to his elbows. 'Right now I'm only proud o' this lot,' he said in an icy tone, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng along the line of stretchers. 'They've all bin well an' truly right frew the s.h.i.+t, an' it ain't doin' 'em any good layin' 'ere on this draughty poxy platform so the likes o' you can do yer bit fer the war wiv yer stupid remarks, so if yer finished can we all get goin' ter the 'orspital now?'

Josephine could hardly refrain from laughing aloud and her hand tightened on the corporal's arm. Lord Dunfermline had been rendered speechless and he seemed to have become rigid as he stooped forward looking down at the soldier, his eyes popping and his face crimson. His lady wife was holding her hand to her brow, looking as though she was going to pa.s.s out. Murmurings went on around them and the staff officer looked like he could have cheerfully despatched the insolent corporal with a bullet from the revolver clipped to his s.h.i.+ny Sam Browne belt.

'I'm awfully sorry, Lord Dunfermline,' he groaned. 'The man's obviously suffering from sh.e.l.l-shock. I can only apologise sincerely for what he said.'

'It's all right, Willington, no need,' the dignitary replied, backing away from the stretcher and the soldier's burning gaze. 'I think we've finished here. I'll look forward to seeing you at the club this evening.'

As the group walked off the staff officer bent down over the stretcher, his face flushed with anger. 'I'll be wanting your name, rank and number, soldier. You could well be court-martialled for this outrageous behaviour,' he barked.

Josephine's eyes blazed and she stood up to face the officer. 'Do you realise this man is badly wounded? I won't have you talking to him like this,' she declared, her voice charged with emotion. 'I'm going to fetch the doctor.'

The corporal grinned. 'It's all right, luv,' he said cheerfully, and the grin did not leave his face as he looked up arrogantly at the staff officer, 'I won't be court-martialled,' he told him offhandedly. 'When I got this little lot I finished bein' a soldier. I s'pose yer could 'ave a go at gettin' me pension stopped though. Let the b.a.s.t.a.r.d starve, eh? Don't worry, pal, I ain't gonna lose no sleep over a few coppers any ole 'ow. Now why don't yer p.i.s.s orf wiv the rest o' yer menagerie an' let us all get orf this poxy platform.'

The staff officer's expression became apoplectic and he stormed off slapping his thigh with his cane and mumbling to himself about shooting the man where he lay. The corporal sank down on the stretcher, grinning up at Josephine's bright red face as he forgot for a short moment the pain of his shattered legs. Behind him the army doctor sat on an empty wheelbarrow trying to compose himself.

'I've never witnessed anything like that before,' he croaked to the matron, who was trying to keep a straight face herself. 'And did you see the way our little nurse squared up to that pompous git?'

'They won't do anything to the soldier, will they, doctor?' she asked with concern.

The doctor wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 'Out of the question,' he answered quickly, mimicking the irate officer's clipped tones. 'You heard what that idiot told Lord Dunfermline. The man's sh.e.l.l-shocked. Evidently,' he laughed.

Laughter rang out for the first time in months at the Tanner household as the whole family gathered together in the small parlour. James sat beside his brother Charlie, both still in uniform and looking slightly the worse for drink, and Danny listened eagerly to their account of a certain company sergeant who had apparently filched the men's rum ration and later brought in four German soldiers at bayonet point after taking them by surprise when he fell into their trench in a drunken rage.

Danny laughed with his brothers as they finished the story, not quite knowing whether to believe it, and felt a sudden pang of envy. He had settled himself into a hard life on the river and felt happy in the job, but the nagging thoughts that he was missing out on the war plagued him. Now that his brothers were home and looking fit and well, Danny knew that he could not delay enlisting for much longer. After all, the war might be over soon, he thought.

Nellie fussed over the boys and tried to remain cheerful. She had been aware for some time that Danny would inevitably join his two brothers in uniform and struggled to hide her fears from her husband. William knew too, although he did not show the concern he felt inside. He laughed and joked with his soldier sons, happy that they were back safe and feeling as though his heart would burst with pride. Carrie had hugged her two brothers with tears welling in her eyes as she saw how grown-up and smart they looked in their uniforms. Now she sat between the two of them with her arms around their shoulders as James told yet another tale of army life. They did not talk about the fighting and the dying, and the family did not encourage them to. They were simply glad to be all together, and for a few short days able to forget the war.

Charlie joined in the laughter but his thoughts were elsewhere as he sat in the cosy parlour. He pictured the pretty young nurse and recalled the smile she had given him on the platform that morning, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng and pert lips parting invitingly. He remembered those lovely eyes and how they seemed to be perpetually laughing. He wanted to tell his family about Josephine and how grown-up she had looked, but resisted the urge. He knew his mother did not like the Galloways and his father had always kept his distance from them considering himself to be just another employee of George Galloway's even though the two of them had grown up together in the local backstreets. He would wait and see how things turned out before saying anything, he decided. After all, he would soon be back in France.

Along the street Sadie Sullivan and her husband were talking together in their parlour. Sadie was distraught. She sat at the table with her chin cupped in her hands and her broad shoulders hunched. Her face was still wet with tears.

'I knew it all along, Dan,' she groaned. 'I told 'em. I even dared 'em, but they still went an' done it. As if it ain't bad enough our Billy bein' in the war. What we gonna do?'

Daniel scratched his wiry grey hair and looked down at the fire. 'Gawd knows,' he sighed. 'What can we do? They're old enough. It ain't as though they're under age. We can't stop 'em goin'.'

'But surely if yer went down the recruitin' office an' told 'em there's already one Sullivan in the army, they'd scratch their names off the list?'

'They won't take no notice, Sadie,' he replied. 'Yer've only gotta look round yer. There's two o' the Tanners in the army, Maisie Dougall's two boys are in France, an' there's fousands o' people round 'ere who've got more than two sons serving. Yer know we can't do that.'

She sighed and dabbed at her eyes. 'Why didn't they take any notice o' their muvver? They know 'ow I worry over 'em.'

'Don't yer fink I'm worried too?' Daniel said irritably. 'We'll jus' 'ave ter grin an' bear it like all the ovvers do. The boys'll be all right. Anyway, the war might be over soon. I reckon when the Germans find out the Sullivans are on their way, they'll sue fer peace instantly.'

Sadie did not realise that her husband was joking and continued to stare dejectedly down at the white linen tablecloth.

'D'yer fink they'll let the three of 'em stay tergevver?' she asked tearfully.

'I bet they will,' he answered. 'The Queens is a local regiment. There's lots o' bruvvers in the Queens.'

Sadie suddenly sat up straight in her chair and glared at her husband. 'I tell yer somefink, Dan. The twins are eighteen this year, an' if they try ter sign on I'll go down that b.l.o.o.d.y recruitin' office an' tear the list up meself, an' I don't care if I do get nicked! Four kids in the army out o' one family is more than enough fer anybody.'

'Don't worry, gel. If the twins try ter sign on, I'll come down there wiv yer an' burn the b.l.o.o.d.y place down.'

Less than a mile away in the gymnasium of the Dockhead Boys' Club a discussion was taking place between the Sullivan boys that would have horrified their already distressed parents.

'Muvver's bound ter be upset but she'll soon get over it,' John remarked.

'I can't wait ter go,' Michael said, rubbing his hands together. 'We're bound ter see Billy out there.'

'D'yer reckon it'll be over before we get there?' Joe asked anxiously.

'Nah, the war's gonna go on fer years yet. Well, a couple at any rate,' John told him. 'Fing is, we've gotta stick tergevver. If they try ter split us up, we'll jus' tell 'em no.'

'Yer can't do that in the army, stupid,' Michael said. 'Yer can get court-martialled and drummed out, or if it's really bad they can shoot yer.'

'Shoot yer?' gasped Shaun, the youngest. 'Well, I ain't goin' in if that's the case.'

'Shut yer trap. Anyway, the war'll be over by the time yer eighteen,' Joe cut in.

The twins, Patrick and Terry, were reclining on a tumbling mat and listening with interest. 'D'yer fink we'll be in time?' Terry asked his brother.

''Course we will,' Patrick replied. 'Matter o' fact, we could volunteer termorrer. We could tell 'em we're eighteen, an' by the time they find out we'll be in France. Anyway, it's only four months ter go fer our birthdays.'

Shaun slipped down from his perch on the vaulting-horse and faced his brothers. 'If you lot fink I'm gonna let yer all go wivout me, yer got anuvver fink comin'. I'd 'ave ter stop 'ome an' watch Muvver cryin' over all of yerse, an' when yer win all yer medals an' yer show 'em ter people, they'll say: ”'Ave you got any medals, Shaun?” an' I'll 'ave ter say, ”No, me muvver wouldn't let me go.” Well, I tell yer straight, I ain't stoppin' 'ere. No b.l.o.o.d.y fear. I'm gonna sign on wiv yer. I look eighteen anyway. I do look eighteen, don't I, John?'

'Nah. I'd say yer look about fifteen,' he said, winking at Michael.

Shaun rushed at his elder brother with his fists flailing and his mouth screwed up in temper. Michael grabbed him around the body and the twins jumped up. 'Leave 'im alone,' they shouted, trying to pull Shaun free.

John attempted to calm his younger brothers, and as he stepped in Joe turned on him. 'You started it,' he yelled.

Soon the Sullivan boys were a struggling, fighting ball of arms, legs and heads. Michael came out of the ma.s.s with his nose dripping blood. As soon as he put his hand up and realised his injury he dived back in, his arms swinging like a windmill. Their bodies locked in fierce combat, they fell against the vaulting-horse, sending it cras.h.i.+ng to the floor. Harold Roberts the club leader rushed over and tried to break up the fight but was sent reeling by someone's fist. It was only when a boxing coach strode across and roughly yanked them apart that the fight was stopped. The boys looked a sorry sight as they were lined up to be read the riot act. Harold Roberts dabbed at his lip as he faced them.

'It was a black day fer this club when you lot joined,' he growled at them. 'Jus' look at yerselves. Yer bruvver Billy wouldn't be very proud of yer if 'e could see yer now. In fact, I fink 'e'd be downright disgusted. I'm sorry, there's nuffink I can do but expel the lot o' yerse. Yer know the rules. Any, fightin' in this club is done in the ring, not outside of it. That's the way it is.'

John Sullivan lowered his head in shame then stepped forward to plead their case. 'I'm sorry, Mr Roberts,' he said in a low voice. 'It was my fault. I started it. If yer gonna expel anybody, it should be me, not this lot.'

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