I laced my fingers together as these kind, funny, brave men all cheered for my brother. The nurses joined in too. I was so moved that when they were done, I couldn’t speak. I simply held out my hands, trying to say thank you without speaking.
‘Nurse Watson?’ I turned to see Harry, in his bed, looking at me with concern. ‘Are you all right?’
I gave him a little smile. ‘That was just so lovely, it made me all emotional.’
He sniffed. ‘You’re not the only one,’ he said. ‘But don’t tell the others – they’ll tease me rotten.’
‘Ah, they were all wiping their eyes,’ I told him.
‘Life is short,’ Harry said. ‘And you’d think we’d be used to it by now, but somehow it’s always a shock.’
‘I think when it stops being a shock, that’s when you stop being human.’
‘True.’ He smiled at me and again I felt that connection between us, like I knew him.
‘Nelly, my friend, she says that we should live our lives to the fullest, because we never know when they will end.’
‘Nelly’s right.’
I knew I should go, because it was getting dark, but I didn’t want to leave. Instead I sat down next to his bed.
‘How are you feeling? How’s your leg?’
Harry hadn’t broken his leg but he’d wrenched it so badly he’d damaged some of his ligaments.
‘The leg is not great,’ he said with a rueful grin. ‘But I’m getting the casts off my arms soon.’
‘How wonderful. Isn’t that a lovely Christmas present?’
Harry looked surprised. ‘I’d forgotten that it’s almost Christmas.’
‘It’s only a week away,’ I said. ‘Nelly and I have decorated our flat with holly.’ I lowered my voice. ‘She stole it from the park.’
He laughed and I was pleased. ‘She is living life to the fullest.’
‘She really is.’
His expression darkened a bit and for a second he looked like a little boy who’d lost his favourite toy. ‘It’s going to be rotten being here on Christmas Day.’
‘Oh, blimey. It’s Christmas,’ said Davey, overhearing. ‘What’s it like here at Christmas? Will you be working?’
‘I will be.’
‘Will you bring us presents?’ asked baby-faced Malcolm.
I laughed. ‘Aren’t you a bit old for Father Christmas.’
‘Never,’ Harry declared.
‘I quite like working on Christmas Day,’ I told them. ‘Well, I always have before now. I can’t imagine the Luftwaffe will let up, even if it is December 25, so it’ll just be like a normal day.’ I remembered the Christmases we’d had at the hospital before the war. ‘We usually have carol singers,’ I said. ‘And the children on the ward get presents. Just something small. And my very first year of nursing, it snowed on Christmas Day, which was really magical.’
‘What’s your favourite bit of Christmas?’ Malcolm asked.
I thought for a moment. ‘Carols,’ I said. ‘They’re so beautiful. What’s your favourite?’
Malcolm rolled his eyes at the silliness of my question. ‘Presents,’ he said and I laughed.
Harry cleared his throat. ‘Come on, then,’ he said to the room.
