Title: What Might Have Happened
Author: gingham-frocks-rock
Email: War-time CS. Death.
Keywords: Nell, Joey, Hilda
Spoilers: none. This is purely imagination. Although the actual crossing did take place during Goes to It? (I can't remember) Disclaimer: All characters belong to EBD.
Summary: This is an alternative story to what happened when Joey and co crossed the English Channel.
Archive: Let me know please. Author's Note: This has also been posted on the bulletin board. Feedback: If you want to :-)
There was a loud humming overhead. Nell glanced up sharply, cradling her god-daughter in her arms. "Sshhh, my pet" she soothed as Helena set up a chorus of tiny wails, upset by the sudden noise. Nell looked around for Nigel, he was helping Joey into the cabin.
"Nell!" he commanded, seeing her suddenly out the corner of his eye. "Blast it woman, get undercover" he shouted hoarsely, afraid his words would be drowned out by the planes that were swarming the skies. Nell didn't need telling twice. Clutching the baby to her chest she ran along the deck, almost blindly following the other women down into the cabin. As she took the last step, there was a loud crash and the boat lurched suddenly, sending her flying backwards onto the wooden floor, leaving her gasping for breath. Hastily disposing of Margot into Frieda's lap, Jo raced back. Through hazy eyes, Nell watched her, slipping from side to side as the boat rocked in increasingly rough waters. A soaring pain seared through her head as every wave smashed against the tiny yacht. She held out the baby, still swathed in blankets, "Take her, Jo" she mumbled. "I'b find". Jo took the bundle from her, placed it in the basket next to Frieda and then turned back to Nell.
"Bill – are you okay?" Nell found herself looking into Jo's alarmed face. She nodded her head, gently, so as not to send any more tiny daggers. "Can you get up?"
"I think so" Nell swallowed nervously, her voice sounded cracked and thin. She reached out for Jo's arm and slowly rose to her feet. A rattle of gunfire made the women in the cabin duck their heads in reflex and Nell felt her ring dig deep into her finger as Jo clutched her hand in terror. All three babies were wailing now, but even their ferocious cry was drowned out by the machines overhead.
Nigel stuck his head indoors, "You three ok?"
"What the hell's going on out there?" Nell demanded, raising her voice to be heard against the baby's cries, the planes and the shouts of the men on the deck.
"Sticky situation" he responded succinctly. Jo glared.
"Nigel! I have three tiny babies here. You have to let us know what's going on" she choked out. Nigel held up his arms and looked grim.
"We're doing out best out there." He saw the look in Jo's eyes and his tone softened. "Jo – I promised Jack. I'll get you all there safe and sound. Look – I have to leave you now, but stay calm" He disappeared back on-deck and Nell watched him go with an ominous feeling growing in her stomach. Jo rose as though to follow him and Nell pulled her back down roughly.
"Jo! Are you crazy! Stay focussed. We need you here to help with the babies. Your babies" It worked, and Nell sighed in relief as Jo bent her graceful dark head over the tiny red heads of her triplets.
"Hush, my little darlings. Mamma's here." She soothed them, stroking them in turn. Her usual golden tones were strained and she sounded suspiciously close to tears, but the babies calmed down under the caress of her voice. Just as she had managed to calm the wails to whimpering another loud crash made the three women leap up from their seats. Frieda hurriedly stashed the other two babies in the basket and Nell scooped the handle over her arm. The sound of gunfire, closer and more insistent now, raining down on the yacht and the men upon it. In the cabin it was impossible to tell whether they were being shot at from above or from the side, but wherever it was, it was clear that the situation above-deck was completely out of hand.
"We have to help" insisted Jo, lunging toward the doorway. Nell watched her go, unable to do anything with the basket in her arms. Thinking quickly, Frieda ran forward and grabbed her friend by the wrist.
"Joey libechen" Frieda pleaded with her. "Don't go, you can not help them" she added sorrowfully.
There were tears in Jo's eyes. "But – Nigel" she gasped. Even as she said his name, they heard his voice yell out – not giving orders this time, but in shock and pain. Jo turned white and released herself of Frieda's grasp. Nell watched her long legs disappear through the doorway before she could think of anything to say to make her stay. The bad feeling in Nell's stomach rose a notch. As Jo pushed the door open the stench of blood reached them in the cabin. For a moment, Jo stopped in her tracks. As the gunfire momentarily died off, Nell watched in gripping fear as Jo went on deck. Then the gunfire started again. Jo didn't come back. They waited, and waited. In Nell's arms, the basket weighed heavily with her burden. There were shouts and calls up on deck, muffled behind the door. The babies began to cry. Except this time, it wasn't the noise that disturbed them. The wailing wasn't for hunger, or for sleep. They were crying for their mamma. Nell stared down at the three tiny screwed up faces and she suddenly knew. "My brave little ones" she murmured, slowly sinking to the floor with the basket. Kneeling in front of it, she took them out in a bundle and held them to her body as she had seen Joey do so many times. She rocked back and forth, silently sobbing into the babies' heads. She had no idea how long she sat there, rocking back and forth, while Frieda watched with growing understanding.
Nell felt a hand placed on her shoulder. She shrugged it off but it was insistent. "I'll take them now" said a voice somewhere in front of her. She faintly recognised the voice but she could not place it. She clung tightly to the babies, gazing at them through teary eyes. "Nell, I'll take them now" the voice was closer, softer. It sounded as though the voice wanted to cry. She lifted her head, wearily. Two pairs of hands reached out for the bundles in her arms. The babies began to wail loudly as they were disturbed.
"Nell" Hilda Annersley kneeled in front of her friend. All colour had drained from her face, and her hands shook as she rested them on Nell's shoulder. She shook it gently, hoping to stir the woman from the stupor she was gripped in. "Nell – you need to come with me now. Nell!" Hilda became sterner; Nell's vacant gaze was frightening her. "Nell – you need to leave". Nell shook her head groggily.
"No!" she was adamant. "No – no, no" the end was a weak moan. Then Nell Wilson lost her head and screamed.
The sheets were twisted, and she was hot and sweaty. Her shoulders shook between each heavy sob. Gradually, she began to calm down, as she had taught herself to do, breathing deeply, unclenching her fists and closing her eyes against the memory. Except closing her eyes didn't work. Sometimes she just didn't know whether she preferred to be asleep or awake. The door opened a snatch, and scratched slightly against the wooden floor of the sanatorium. A figure, hunched, pale and thin, slowly moved to Nell's bedside. She looked up into the face of Jack Maynard and observed the new frowns, the new etches of pain that were slowly stealing his youthful looks.
"Here" his voice was cracked; he sounded old, thought Nell. He handed her a glass of water and a tablet. He had insisted on returning to work – not with the Navy, but to the Sanatorium. Nell had been there on and off for three months, returning whenever she relapsed. She eyed the water thirstily and licked her dry lips. She found that the nightmares left her shaky, with a dry mouth and an aching head. But they were gradually lessoning. They were less frequent. She watched sadly as Jack shuffled out if the room, barely lifting his feet to walk. She knew that his nightmares wouldn't ever change. She thought he probably knew that too.
Hilda Annersley awoke instantly to a sound coming from the adjacent room. As the floor boards creaked again she swung her legs out of bed and slotted her feet into her slippers. Before venturing into the next room, she sat quietly for a moment on the edge of the bed, drawing her thoughts together and sending a silent prayer in the hope that He would guide her next move. Nell was obviously pacing up and down her room, similar nocturnal events had occurred almost nightly when she was still in the sanatorium. Hilda vented a soft, sad, sigh for her friend. They had hoped that bringing Nell back to the school would bring some normality back to her life – in fact, any attempt to lift her out of her current grief and depression was considered worth making at this point.
At least Nell had agreed to share Hilda's own quarters for the time being, reflected the young Headmistress. It had been a difficult task at first, for Nell had insisted that she was capable of returning to normal routine – had she lied to anyone but Hilda Annersley Nell would probably still be sleeping in her old room next to the girls' dormitories. But Hilda had seen through the lie, and had told a tiny lie of her own. She eventually managed to convince Nell that she would never get any sleep of she was up half the night chasing-up misbehaving middles. The fact was that the whole school, even the most irrepressible of middles, were too subdued to be playing midnight pranks seemed not to occur to Nell submerged as she was in her own dark world. Perhaps she was just too tired to argue, but it emerged that Hilda would get her way – and have Nell sleeping where she could watch over her with care; whether she was aware of it or not.
Hilda slipped on her dressing gown and tugged the cord tightly around her waist. A few steps forward; she nervously placed her right hand on the cool metal of the door handle and gently pushed down. The door opened slowly and quietly, not disturbing Nell as she continued to pace the room.
"Nell" she murmured softly, not wanting to startle her. Nell paused and slowly but steadily turned to face Hilda. The vision Hilda was confronted by was to haunt her for years after. Nell, her face grey and strained, took on an almost ghostly appearance against the stark white of her nightgown. The reddened rims of her eyes stood out, while the eyes themselves were pools of blackness. As Hilda stepped out of the doorway to take Nell into her arms she realised that she must have been crying for some length of time. "Can't sleep?" she asked, with an uncharacteristic disregard for grammar.
Nell shook her head as she laid it on Hilda's shoulder. When she spoke, her voice wavered. "Stupid pills won't work" she complained bitterly, casting the tiny bottle angrily to the floor. The bottle smashed, scattering the remainder of the sedatives noisily across the bare boards. Her body jerked irrationally; the noise a faint echo of gunfire.
Hilda ignored the pills, and pulled Nell closer, feeling for the first time physically stronger than her athletic friend. Nell began to cry; huge, heaving tearless sobs that were more of a cry-out than weeping. Clinging onto Hilda as though she might other wise fall through the floor, she tried to choke out a few incoherent words.
Wisely, Hilda directed her back to her bed and tucked her in, receiving not a murmur of an argument. She poured a small glass of water from the jug on the nightstand and ordered Nell to sip it slowly until all it was all gone. As Nell mechanically followed her directions, Hilda eased herself onto the bed next to her, perching next to Nell's pillow. When the glass was empty she tenderly removed it from Nell's icy grip and placed it back on the table. She shifted slightly so that she could rest her head against Nell's.
"Do you want to talk?" Hilda was nervous that she might push Nell too far too fast. Jem Russell had warned her about Nell's mental state, and had been somewhat concerned at Nell returning to school so soon.
Nell smiled weakly, and it broke Hilda's heart to see it. She hadn't known how much she loved her friend until she realised how much she missed that smile. She fumbled for Nell's hand and squeezed it gently.
"Sorry for being such a kid" Nell apologised gruffly, referring to the scattered pills and broken bottle. Hilda was dismayed at this train of thought.
"Nell, you can do whatever you want. Hell, you could smash up all the furniture in this room if it makes it any better" she said emphatically.
"It's not fair on you though – you have as much grief as me. You shouldn't have to be here" argued back Nell.
"I'm not here out of duty Nell, I'm here because I want to be, neither of us should do this alone"
"I've always been alone" sighed Nell softly, almost forgetting Hilda's presence as her thoughts drifted over the family she had lost. There was a moment of silence.
"Aren't the sedatives Ja-Jem gave you working?" she omitted Jack's name in time, knowing it would only serve to send Nell's thoughts down another depressing path.
Nell shook her head. "Not anymore. I had to take double the dose last night just to get my eyes to close. Tonight- they just didn't work at all" She closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them she gazed at the scattered pills hungrily. Hilda was disturbed by what she saw in Nell's eyes.
"Nell," her throat constricted. "You wouldn't…you're not…" she glanced at Nell who was staring straight ahead. A large tear rolled down Hilda's cheek; Nell turned and brushed it away.
She took a deep breath. "Sometimes, I've wondered" she began slowly, organising her thoughts carefully. "I've wondered whether I could". Hilda felt herself holding her breath as she waited silently for Nell to continue. " – but I couldn't. I know I couldn't." Relief washed over Hilda. "I don't want to die, not yet. I just – Hilda I just want to sleep. I want to sleep and wake up and for this never to have happened. I want to go to sleep for a very long time…"
Hilda curled up closer, arching her body around Nell's. "You've got to hold on Nell" she whispered. "We can talk to Jem, we can sort out your medication. And you know – you can always go back to the san if you want"
"I don't want to go back. It's so lonely there. I- I can't bear it, being alone" her voice trembled, "that's when I get sad and I can't forget about it. I like the pills because they help me sleep, but sometimes I wish I didn't take them- they just make the morning come faster and then I have to deal with all this again. I hate this war" she ended fiercely.
"So do I" replied Hilda quietly, preparing to settle-in for the night. She thought about how Hitler had touched them all already; their Austrian friends, the girls' husbands and fathers, the baby triplets and their father – all devastated because of one man's greed and irrationality. All her friends were being affected, and now he was claiming another, she thought in despair as she watched Nell's eyelids droop as she approached something like sleep. Hilda wriggled her body down the bed until her head was lying flat, level with Nell's. She wrapped her arms around the sleeping woman and found herself clinging on tight. 'Hold-on, Nell. Just hold-on' she insisted silently.