Free Christmas Past by Glenice Crossland Page A

Catholics.’
    ‘It’s nothing at all to do with religion. I’ve seen stranger things happen at the hospital on more than one occasion – patients claiming to have left their bodies during
surgery and watched the whole operation being performed. At first we put it down to vivid dreams caused by the ether, until one patient accurately described the layout of the theatre and the
surgical team, all of which she’d never set eyes on. Oh, there’re some strange forces at work which none of us understand. Still, if it’s softened the shock for Mary it can only
be for the good.’
    ‘Even so, I think you’ve done the right thing by insisting on her going home for a while,’ Gladys said. ‘There’s nothing you want more than your own flesh and blood
in times of trouble, though this place’ll be like a morgue without her and I shall be counting the hours until she comes back. Oh, when I think about Tom I can’t believe we shall never
see him again. What his poor parents must be going through, not knowing officially one way or the other. I’ll go down as soon as I’ve seen Mary off and find out if there’s
anything I can do.’
    ‘Yes, you do that, dear. All this bloodshed, I can’t for the life of me see what good can possibly come out of it all. Still, we mustn’t be downhearted. There’s work to
be done, not only on the front lines but here in the hospitals. I’m beginning to think our city will be a target before long. Better for Mary to go now before things begin to hot up. Though I
shan’t rest until she gets back. I only hope I’m doing the right thing by sending her.’
    ‘You are, Rowland, I’m sure of it. If she stays here she’ll be going off to work as usual, and I’m sure a change can only be for the good. Oh, but I’m going to miss
her so much.’
    ‘I know, dear; God knows I couldn’t think more of the girl if she were our own daughter. I only hope she doesn’t decide to stay with her family, but that’s a risk we have
to take. Oh, well, shall we be going up? Somehow I don’t feel like listening to the radio tonight.’
    Mary had boarded the train with the feeling of a lead weight in her stomach, but by the time she reached Newcastle she couldn’t fail to be uplifted by the anticipation of
seeing her family again. Besides, a crowd of airmen had piled into the compartment and sung for most of the journey, trying to persuade her to join in. She hadn’t done that, but instead she
had taken out the enormous packed lunch Gladys had made and handed round the oven bottom cakes filled with eggs and salad from the garden, and by the time the sandwiches had been eagerly devoured
Mary had confided the reason for her journey and been offered consolation and inundated with requests for her address. One of the airmen lifted her bags from the rack for her and she left the train
feeling much more cheerful. She could just imagine her ma’s face when she walked into the house.
    The cheer vanished as she dismissed the taxi two streets from home and walked the rest of the way, not wishing to attract the attention of the neighbours. Even so she noticed the curtains
shifting at a number of windows as she passed by, and was filled with disgust at the squalor of some of the houses. Surely the area hadn’t been so bad when she lived here, or was it just that
she was spoiled now by her present environment? She pressed the brass sneck, relieved to see that it was newly Brasso’d, and walked into the living kitchen, welcomed by the smell of frying
onions and potatoes.
    Kathleen saw her first. She was setting the table and squealed with delight as Mary walked in. Dropping the cutlery, she ran to throw her arms round her sister, then stood back and looked down
at Mary’s best costume, as though afraid of soiling it.
    ‘Ma,’ she called, ‘our Mary’s come home. She looks lovely.’
    The scuffle on the stairs announced the entry of her mother. ‘Holy mackerel,’ she exclaimed, and Mary