Nightingales at War (26 page)

‘That’s all right. We all need someone to talk sense into us sometimes.’

As they walked back across the courtyard, Dora heard a sound that stopped her in her tracks.

‘What is it?’ Mrs Trewell frowned. ‘What’s wrong?’

Dora held up her hand to silence her. She turned her head, listening for the sound. At first she thought she’d imagined it. But then she realised it was one of the workmen, up a ladder, singing. His voice drifted down to her, carried on the chill wind.

‘You are my sunshine, my double Woodbine, my box of matches, my Craven A . . .’

Mrs Trewell smiled. ‘It’s a daft song, isn’t it? I’ve heard some of the men singing it in the shelter. Those ain’t the real words, though.’

‘I know,’ Dora said quietly. But she wasn’t listening to the words. She was listening to the oh-so-familiar tune, drifting down from the top of the ladder, as if it was coming down from heaven.

THE DAY AFTER
she’d arrived home from hospital in Kent, Jennifer was helping her mother to put up Christmas decorations when Cissy called round.

‘Tell her I’m not in,’ Jennifer said immediately, peering through the net curtains.

‘Don’t be daft.’ Her mother smiled at her encouragingly. ‘Cissy’s been dying to see you. She asks after you all the time.’

‘I mean it, Mum,’ Jennifer pleaded. ‘Tell her I’m not well enough for visitors. Tell her I’m not ready . . .’

‘It’ll do you good,’ Elsie Caldwell said. ‘Besides, you can’t hide away for ever, you know. You’ve got to get used to seeing people again.’

She went to answer the door and Jennifer automatically put her hand up to her face, feeling the roughness of her skin under her fingers. Everyone said the scars were healing well, but Jennifer hadn’t looked in a mirror since that day she’d woken up in hospital after her accident.

She had spent the past month in the Nightingale’s sector hospital, recovering from a fractured skull. She’d been glad to be able to hide herself away. She knew she looked a terrible sight, her shorn head hidden under a hospital cap, her face a sickening mess of tiny cuts. Her hair had started to grow back, but she could still feel the rough line of the scar that crawled across her scalp underneath.

She heard her mother talking to Cissy in the hallway and concealed herself behind the Christmas tree, pretending to be draping tinsel from its branches.

But even then, she noticed Cissy flinch when she walked in and saw her friend. It was the first time they’d seen each other since that day in the hospital. Any faint hope Jennifer might have had that she was looking better vanished the moment she saw the appalled expression in her best friend’s eyes.

A second later Cissy’s bright smile was back in place. ‘Hello, stranger,’ she greeted Jennifer.

‘Hello yourself.’ Jennifer kept her eyes fixed on the piece of tinsel she was draping, as if it was the most important thing in the world.

‘How are you?’

‘All right, I s’pose.’

‘I’m glad to see you,’ Cissy said. ‘I would have come down to visit you, but I couldn’t get any time off from the hospital.’

‘It’s all right. I didn’t really want visitors anyway.’ Jennifer nodded towards the small bag in her friend’s hand. ‘What have you got there?’

Cissy blushed. ‘It’s a Christmas present for you,’ she murmured. ‘Only—’ She stopped talking abruptly.

‘Only what?’

‘Nothing.’ Cissy’s blush deepened. ‘You might as well have it anyway.’ She thrust it into Jennifer’s hands as if she couldn’t wait to be rid of it. ‘I was so pleased when I found it . . . you can hardly get them anywhere these days.’ Her words tumbled out in a rush. ‘I didn’t stop to think . . . I’m sorry . . .’

Jennifer opened the bag and stared down at the powder compact in her hands. Once upon a time she might have been delighted to receive such a gift, but now it seemed more like an insult.

‘Reckon it’ll take more than a bit of powder to make me look better.’ She tried to sound light-hearted, but she couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.

‘As I said, I didn’t stop to think that you—’

‘That I might look like a monster?’ Jennifer finished for her.

Cissy blushed. ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she mumbled.

‘You might as well have it back, anyway.’ Jennifer went to hand it over, but just at that moment her mother came in.

‘What’s that you’ve got? Oh, is it a present? Isn’t that kind of Cissy, Jen? I’ll put it somewhere safe for you, shall I?’ She took the compact and put it in her apron pocket. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on, shall I?’ she went on briskly. ‘You’ll stay for a cuppa, won’t you, Cissy?’

Jennifer willed her to say no, but Cissy smiled politely and said, ‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Caldwell.’

Elsie Caldwell bustled off, leaving the two girls alone. The silence stretched between them, awkward and unfamiliar.

‘You didn’t have to stay, you know,’ Jennifer said.

‘I wanted to. I’ve been looking forward to a good old gossip.’

Jennifer sent her a sceptical look. ‘How come you’ve hardly said a word, then?’

Cissy looked uncomfortable. ‘Your tree’s looking nice,’ she commented at last.

‘It will be, when it’s finished.’

‘Can I help you?’ Cissy offered.

‘You can unravel that tinsel, if you like.’

They worked together in silence. Usually they would have been chatting away nineteen to the dozen, but now they struggled to find something to talk about.

As Jennifer hung the baubles from the tree, she was aware that her friend was staring at the ornaments on the mantelpiece, the pictures on the walls, her own shoes . . . anything but at Jennifer’s face.

‘I look a fright, don’t I?’ she said finally.

‘No, no, of course not,’ Cissy said quickly.

‘Then why can’t you look at me?’

Cissy slowly lifted her gaze to Jennifer’s face, then glanced quickly away. ‘The scars are healing up nicely,’ she mumbled.

‘So they tell me.’

‘And your hair’s growing back. It suits you short.’

‘No, it doesn’t.’ Jennifer smoothed her hand over her dark cap of wispy curls. Losing her crowning glory was nearly as heartbreaking as having her face ruined.

The silence stretched between them. Jennifer cleared her throat. ‘So,’ she said. ‘What have you been up to?’

‘This and that. It’s not been so busy at the hospital since all the bombing stopped, and they’ve started to admit patients again instead of sending them down to the sector hospital. There’s even talk of opening up a couple of the main wards again, once they’ve finished repairing the buildings.’

‘That’ll be nice,’ Jennifer replied without enthusiasm. The last thing she wanted to talk about was hospitals, as she’d spent the last month in one. But she couldn’t think of anything else, so she let Cissy carry on as she finished decorating the tree.

‘Actually, I’m going to start training properly,’ Cissy said. ‘I’ve talked to Matron about it, and she says I can start in January.’

Jennifer frowned. ‘You, a nurse?’

‘Why not? I know I didn’t like it much when we first started, but I’ve actually started to enjoy the work, especially now they’ve moved me up to the Female Acute ward.’

‘Wonders will never cease,’ Jennifer muttered.

‘Eve’s signed up too. You should join us, it’ll be fun.’

‘No, thanks,’ Jennifer said. ‘I’ve seen enough of hospitals to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.’

‘But you always enjoyed nursing,’ Cissy said. ‘And you were a lot better at it than I was. You’d be a natural—’

‘I don’t want to!’ Jennifer cut her off abruptly. ‘Besides, you’ve got your friend Eve now. And you know what they say – three’s a crowd.’

Cissy lowered her gaze. ‘Don’t be like that,’ she said quietly.

How do you expect me to be? Jennifer wanted to shout at her. In the space of a few minutes everything had been ruined for her. That shattered window had scarred her inside and out, taking away her looks, her confidence, her whole life.

And to cap it all, her best friend could hardly bear to look at her.

‘Anyway, what else has been going on?’ she changed the subject briskly. ‘Any gossip?’

Cissy thought for a moment. ‘They’re holding a dance at the hospital, just after Christmas,’ she said. ‘Matron’s organised it to try and cheer us all up after the awful year we’ve had.’ She flicked Jennifer a quick look. ‘You should come.’

‘How can I?’ Jennifer replied bitterly.

‘I don’t see why not. You worked at the Nightingale right the way through the Blitz. You should be there. Everyone else is going, all the doctors and nurses. Go on, it’ll be a laugh!’

‘I don’t feel like it.’

‘But you love dancing!’

‘Not any more.’

Cissy looked as if she might argue, but decided against it.

They were saved from more awkwardness as Jennifer’s mother popped in with the tea. Cissy drank hers quickly, then announced she had to go.

‘Off somewhere special, are you?’

Cissy looked at the floor. ‘I promised Eve I’d help her find something to wear for the Christmas dance,’ she replied quietly.

‘Eve, eh?’ Jennifer felt another flash of jealousy. ‘That sounds like fun.’

‘Why don’t you come and help, too?’ Cissy offered. ‘You know you’re much better at picking clothes than I am.’

‘No, thanks.’

‘I’ll come round and see you again tomorrow, shall I?’ Cissy said.

Jennifer shrugged. ‘If you’re not too busy with Eve,’ she couldn’t stop herself sniping.

Cissy’s face crumpled with sadness. ‘Don’t, Jen,’ she begged.

Jennifer turned away. ‘Just go,’ she muttered.

Her mother came back in when Cissy had left. ‘She didn’t stay long,’ she commented.

‘She had other plans.’

‘So I heard.’ Her mother picked up the tea tray. ‘You should have gone with them.’

‘And listen to those two gossiping together all the time?’ Jennifer shook her head. ‘Besides, she only invited me because she felt sorry for me.’

‘How can you say that? Cissy’s your best friend.’

‘Not any more.’ Jennifer turned her face to stare out of the window at the wintry December street outside. The sky was a dirty yellowish-grey and snow had started to drift out of the sky. ‘I’m better off on my own,’ she said.

‘Is that why you don’t want to go to that dance?’

Jennifer glared at her. ‘You were listening all the time?’

‘I couldn’t help overhearing, could I? Anyway, why don’t you want to go? It would have done you good.’

‘To have all those people staring at me . . . pitying me? I doubt it.’

‘No one would do that.’

‘Look at me, Mum! I’m a freak.’

‘Only in your own mind.’ Elsie Caldwell set down the tray and stared at her for a long time. ‘You might have a few scars but you’re still a pretty girl. If you looked in the mirror, you’d see that.’

Jennifer shuddered. ‘I don’t want to.’ Seeing herself for the first time in hospital had shocked her so much, she didn’t want to do it again.

‘But the scars aren’t nearly so bad now . . .’

‘They’re still there. I can feel them.’

Her mother planted her hands on her hips. ‘So what are you going to do? Hide yourself away for ever?’

Jennifer was silent. The truth was, hiding herself was exactly what she wanted to do. She didn’t want to have to face anyone. She couldn’t bear the idea of everyone looking at her, pitying her. She hadn’t even wanted to come home to London. She preferred to be buried down in the country, among strangers, people who didn’t know her and who didn’t matter.

‘Cissy’s right,’ Elsie Caldwell said. ‘You should ask for your job back at the hospital, maybe start training properly like her.’

‘No!’

‘But you used to enjoy it.’

‘They wouldn’t want someone like me working on the ward.’

Her mother sighed, the fight going out of her. ‘Have it your own way,’ she said. ‘But you’re going to that dance, Jennifer Caldwell.’

‘I am not!’

‘Oh, yes, you are. I know you’re worried, but you’re not going to get over anything by hiding yourself away. You’re going, even if I have to drag you out of this house myself!’

‘What do you think of this one?’ Eve frowned critically at her reflection in the mirror. ‘I know it’s not much at the moment, but if I took up the hem a few inches, and shortened the sleeves, and put in a couple of darts here . . .’ She turned to look at Cissy, who was staring blankly into space. ‘Cissy?’

‘Hmm?’ Cissy looked at her, smiling vaguely.

‘The dress?’ Eve reminded her. ‘What do you think of it?’

‘It looks . . . very nice.’

Eve gazed back at her reflection. The rose-pink taffeta dress was far from nice. It was big and fussy and old-fashioned, which was probably why it had lain unclaimed and unloved at the bottom of Mrs Stanton’s jumble pile for so long. But with her trained tailor’s eye, Eve knew she could transform it into something special.

All she needed was Cissy’s approval. She might have the skill, but she had no confidence when it came to deciding what suited her. She desperately needed Cissy’s flair to make her believe she could pull it off.

But Cissy was miles away, and had been ever since she’d arrived at the vicarage.

Eve put down the dress. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘Oh, nothing,’ Cissy sighed. But she bit her lip when she said it, a sure sign she was anxious.

‘You can tell me.’ Eve paused, then said, ‘It’s Jennifer, isn’t it?’

She knew Jennifer had come home from hospital earlier that day, and she also knew Cissy had been to visit her. Eve had been wondering all afternoon whether Cissy would even remember she was supposed to be helping her to choose a dress. She was convinced that once the pair were reunited Cissy would forget all about her.

But Cissy had turned up just when she’d said she would, with a face as long as a fiddle. Something had gone wrong, Eve knew.

Sure enough, at the mention of Jennifer’s name, Cissy’s blue eyes filled with tears.

‘Oh, Eve, it was awful!’ she cried. ‘She’s changed so much. I don’t mean her scars or anything. It’s like she’s a different person in here.’ She put her hand to her heart. ‘I couldn’t even talk to her, and you know how Jen and I always liked to talk. But she was so cold – almost like she’s lost interest in life. She didn’t even want to come to the Christmas dance. Reckons she doesn’t like dancing any more.’ She rummaged in her sleeve and pulled out her handkerchief to dab her eyes. ‘I never thought I’d see the day Jen Caldwell turned down a night out dancing!’

‘Perhaps she needs time?’ Eve suggested. ‘She’s just come home from hospital, after all. Everything’s bound to feel a bit strange until she finds her feet.’

‘Do you think so?’ Cissy sniffed. ‘I suppose you could be right. It was such a shock, seeing her like that. It was almost like she didn’t want to know me any more.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be all right once she’s got used to being home,’ Eve said.

‘I hope so.’ Cissy smiled gratefully at her. ‘Thanks for talking some sense into me, Evie. You’re a good friend, you know that?’

A good friend. Never in her life could Eve have imagined having a friend like Cissy Baxter.