This is War✔

Twelve

That same night in London, Ellie was about to go to sleep when a knock sounded on her door. She opened it to find Cora, her daughter-in-law.

   "Cora? I haven't seen you since I moved here! I thought you didn't want to see me."

   Dark circles highlighted her eyes. Cora walked in without a word and sat down on the sofa. "I've just found out something, Ellie. I'm-I'm pregnant. I can't believe it. I don't know what to do. I can't keep working at the munitions factory, it's too dangerous for the baby."

   "Cora, dear, don't stress. I think I can find you another job and I can help you take care of the baby. Have you sent a letter to Andrew?"

   "No! I can't! He'll be worried, and he already had enough to worry about!"

   Ellie sighed. "Alright, you don't have to tell him...yet. But he deserves to know, Cora. Besides, he'll be excited and happy, even if he is a little worried. We all need something to be happy about right now." She smiled at Cora.

   "Thank you for being my friend." Cora sobbed into Ellie's shoulder.

   "Of course, dear! You look exhausted. You can sleep in my bed tonight. If you would like, you can move in here, as well. Goodnight, Cora."

   Her daughter-in-law smiled at her gratefully and went to bed. Ellie put out the lights and curled up on the sofa. She began to fall asleep, but she sat straight up as a thought occurred to her. "I'm going to be a grandmother," she whispered into the darkness. A wide smile appeared on her face. The littlest of lights is being brought to us in our darkest time. How wonderful, she thought happily.

                        ---

   The next morning, Ellie arrived five minutes late at The Royal London. She made it to Dr. Stanford's floor and apologetically greeted the doctor. Instead of a stern nod or rebuke, he smiled warmly and called her aside.

    "Hello, Ellie. Are you doing well?"

    "Yes, wonderful. My daughter-in-law just needed me-"

    He held up a hand to silence her. "You don't have to explain. I was just making sure you were all right. New patient." He gestured toward a middle-aged man. His face was waxy. From what Ellie could see, there wasn't a single part of his body that wasn't burned.

   She swallowed hard. How would she react if her husband or son came in with similar injuries? She had gotten extensive exposure to such horrifying sights as lay before her in the previous month and a half, but she continued to shudder and shake every time she saw another victim of the war.

   What was worse than the injuries themselves to the seasoned nurse was the fact that all of their patients so far had been pilots. England was waging the war, but very reluctantly it seemed. Only pilots had been deployed to fight over the skies of hostile countries, and Ellie felt worried about that. After all, that meant more of a chance that the pilots in her family would get hurt or killed in the coming months.

   "Ellie," Doctor Stanford put a hand on her shoulder. "You know I can switch you to secretarial work if this is too much to handle."