Page 11 of Neighbors at War

She knocked lightly on the bedroom door. ‘Aunt Sylvia? May I come in?’

Hearing a faint groan, Helen gently turned the handle and pushed the door open. She peeked inside, noisily clearing her throat to alert her aunt to her presence.

The curtains were still closed and the room dark. ‘Aunt Sylvia?’ Still hearing no reply, she pushed the door wider and walked in, gasping in horror at seeing her aunt lying grey-faced in her bed. Helen ran to the bedside. Why the hell had she not come up sooner?

‘Aunt Sylvia? Can you hear me?’

Sylvia turned her head slowly towards her and murmured something. Helen couldn’t miss the faint sheen of perspiration on her aunt’s face.

‘I’m not sure,’ she said eventually, her voice croaky. ‘My head hurts dreadfully. I’m sorry, Helen, but I don’t think I’m well enough to take care of Bobby today.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Helen said. It took every ounce of her strength to hide her panic. ‘I’ll fetch you a cool flannel and some water, then I’ll run next door and ask Ida or Babs to look after him while I fetch the doctor.’

Sylvia raised a limp hand. ‘No need.’

‘I don’t think we have much choice, Aunty.’

She ran to the bathroom, took a clean flannel from the small cupboard, rinsed it in cool water, wrung it out and returned to her aunt’s bedroom. She folded it and rested it lightly on her aunt’s forehead.

‘Better?’

‘Yes,’ she croaked. ‘Thank you, dear.’

‘I promise I won’t be long.’ Not wishing to waste a moment, Helen hurried downstairs. She scooped Bobby into her arms and ran next door to number 3.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Hamel,’ Helen said, hating to disturb them so early. ‘But my aunt is extremely unwell, and I need to fetch a doctor. Would you mind if I leave Bobby here with you while I phone his surgery?’

‘Sylvia, unwell?’ She pulled her cardigan tightly around her, folded her arms across her chest and scowled. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

Helen swallowed tears. ‘I think she’s dying.’ It pained her to say the words but she knew it was something she needed to face.

Seeing shock register on her neighbour’s face made her wish she had been a little more sensitive, but it was too late now, and she had no time to waste. ‘May I leave Bobby with you while I run to the telephone box?’

Ida nodded. ‘Pass him over.’

‘Thank you,’ Helen said relieved. ‘I promise I’ll be as quick as I can.’

* * *

‘Hospital, you say?’ Ida asked, her eyes wide with surprise, forty-five minutes later.

‘The doctor drove her there himself a few minutes ago.’

‘You never said what’s wrong with her exactly. She’s always seemed so strong.’

Helen explained, making sure to be gentler this time.

Ida’s hand flew to her chest. ‘Poor Sylvia.’

Helen noticed the time on Ida’s mantel clock. She was late for work and now her aunt had been hospitalised she needed to bring in her wage more than ever. She hoped Cook wouldn’t mind her taking Bobby in with her. ‘I’m sorry, but I must leave for work. I’m already dreadfully late.’ She went to carry Bobby out of the kitchen but Ida reached out to stop her.

‘Hold on a moment. Don’t you work at that smart house at Millbrook?’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘With all those Nazis?’

Helen wished Mrs Hamel didn’t make what she did sound unsavoury. She wondered how she knew where she worked. She doubted that it had come from Babs. Her expression must have shown her thoughts.

Ida shrugged. ‘I’ve heard people talking at the greengrocers, as you do. Anyway, you can’t surely be taking this little one to that place?’

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ Helen fibbed.