Girl with Secrets: a coming of age war story and family saga full of romance, mystery and danger in Carol Rivers (readnow .txt) 📖

Daisy began to tremble as the thuds of the bombs came closer. ‘Please stay with me,’ she asked the orderly.

‘I have others to attend to, dear,’ the woman said hurriedly. ‘Try to be brave and sit quietly.’

Daisy knew there were others who were more in need of attention than her, but she was terrified of the muffled drone of the bombers coming closer and the pounding of the ack-ack guns below. She wanted to run away, but where was there to hide?

For the first time since the incendiary had exploded, she found herself quite alone. ‘H … help,’ she called. ‘Please help me, someone.’ But no one came and when she tried to stand, she fell over.

Daisy woke to the sensation of being lifted into someone’s arms. The person was cradling her and she clung tightly to the stranger’s shoulders as his rhythmic steps strode purposely forward.

The long walk to wherever it was they were going, was accompanied by the sounds of the Luftwaffe’s attack and the slightly raspy breath of her bearer. Daisy buried her head in his chest and wondered if she was being flown to heaven. Had she died? Could this be a real angel?

When her bearer laid her down on a bed and covered her gently with a blanket, she reached out to grasp his wrist. ‘Am I in heaven?’

The face, like Mr Cook’s in the ambulance, bobbed and weaved from side to side. ‘You won’t die, Daisy. I’ll make sure of that.’

Daisy smiled. ‘I know who you are. You’re my guardian angel.’

A quiet, yet husky breath came as her answer. Strangely, amidst the howls and snarls of the planes above and the pounding that shivered its way through the hospital’s foundations, she felt safe. Now she was certain she was being watched over by her very own angel who on this day, had taken her into his care.

An angel, she fancied, whose deep, dark eyes and cloud of raven black hair haloed his gentle face.

CHAPTER 52

‘WELL, MY GIRL.’ Dr Deacon adjusted the stethoscope around his neck, his examination complete. ’I’m relieved to say, you are on the mend.’

Daisy couldn’t remember being asleep for that long. ‘What happened to me?’

’You ran a high temperature and fell into a delirium.’

‘What does delirium mean?’

‘It’s a condition that may last for a few days, weeks or even months. A person can have vivid thoughts or sometimes see things that aren’t there.’

‘I did have a dream,’ Daisy agreed. ‘But it was real.’

Dr Deacon looked amused. ‘That’s very interesting. What was your dream about?’

‘An angel who’s going to look after me.’

‘Well then, I’m sure you’re in good hands.’

Even though the doctor was smiling, she suspected he didn’t believe her.

‘It’s quite understandable that you’re a little confused,’ he added, confirming Daisy’s suspicions. ‘You’ve had a shock and suffered a serious wound. Your dreams are a result of this experience. Now, do you think you’re up to having your stitches removed tomorrow?’

Daisy didn’t like the idea at all, but thought it wise not to complain.

‘That’s settled, then,’ said Dr Deacon without waiting for her reply. ‘I shall see you in the morning.’

When Nurse Gwen appeared at her bedside, Daisy wanted to hug her. ‘I missed you,’ she croaked.

‘And I missed you, Daisy dear. But my shifts were changed.’

‘The doctor said I’ve been asleep for three days.’

‘That’s true.’

‘Are you going to be on duty tonight?’

‘Yes, so don’t worry.’ Nurse Gwen arranged the sheet gently around her. ’I shall be with you. Now, what about something nice to eat? After all, three days without food is a very long time.’

Daisy smiled. She was beginning to feel hungry. ‘How long will it be before I’m better?’

‘One step at a time, Daisy, dear,’ Nurse Gwen advised. ‘Once Dr Deacon is satisfied with your progress, we’ll have you home in no time at all.’

Daisy knew Nurse Gwen was trying not to alarm her. Just as Bobby once explained that it was what all grown-ups did when they wanted to hide the truth.

A s the days passed, Nurse Gwen did her best to be with Daisy when the warning siren went. But her shifts often changed or there would be some emergency and Daisy would try to walk a few paces on her own, but then, exhausted and dizzy, she’d flop down in her chair. What was wrong with her? After having her stitches removed she thought she would be back to normal again. But instead she had gained an unsightly scar and lost all her energy.

‘Patience,’ the doctor had told her.

‘You’re doing very well,’ Aunt Betty had said.

But Daisy was beginning to think she would never get her “sea legs” back.

So when the bombs dropped and the dust rained down from the ceiling, she thought of her angel and prayed he would stay close.

Each day she hoped that Mother and Bobby would visit, but it was Aunt Betty who called by on Wednesdays and Saturdays, keeping Daisy informed of all that had happened in the outside world.

One day, Aunt Betty was late and Daisy felt the old fear return. What if her aunt had been caught in an air raid? Had she been blown off her bike? Was something wrong with Mother and Bobby that no one had told her about?

At visiting hour, in poured the smiling faces and eager footsteps of friends and family, but there was no Aunt Betty. Daisy knew time was limited before the raids began.

Some brought gifts for their children, in particular, small paper bags with twisted corners and mouth-watering shapes inside.

Daisy felt her wound throb. Like a miniature railway track, the scar ran down from her hairline. She touched the tender bumps and her palms grew damp with fear.

A pounding began in her head. Was this another spasm?

‘Daisy?’ someone said. ‘Daisy, it’s me.’

A tall figure hovered over her. The man removed his hat and out fell a bunch of untidy curls. Below