The Nightingale Nurses (17 page)

‘I’ll see,’ Dora said.

‘So is that a date, then?’

‘I said, I’ll see.’

‘I’ll get us two tickets.’

‘Joe, I don’t want—’

‘When you’ve quite finished, Doyle, Dr Adler needs assistance with his next patient.’ Sister Percival interrupted before she had a chance to finish.

‘Oops, looks like you’re wanted.’ Joe grinned. ‘I’ll let you know when I’ve got those tickets.’

‘Joe, listen—’

‘Doyle!’ Sister Percival cut her off. ‘Really, it’s bad enough that Willard spends half her time flirting with anything in trousers, without you joining in! I expected more sense from you, I really did.’

‘But I wasn’t . . .’

‘I hope you’re not arguing with me, Doyle?’ Sister Percival eyed her severely. ‘Now go and help Dr Adler with his projectile vomiting.’

She sighed. ‘Yes, Nurse.’

Dora stared at Joe in frustration as he sauntered off. He turned and winked at her over his shoulder. How much more did she have to do to convince him she wasn’t interested?

‘Dislocated shoulder,’ Tom said as they left hospital later without their prisoner. The man had been admitted to the ward for treatment. ‘It was bloody lucky he didn’t break his arm or fracture his skull.’

‘Lucky for him, you mean?’

‘And for you. If he tells the doctor how he got injured like that . . .’

‘Who’s going to believe the word of a tea leaf against mine?’ Joe sneered. ‘Besides, he deserved it. That’ll teach him to get lippy with me.’ He caught his friend’s wary look. ‘Oh, come on! What are you staring at me like that for? We all give them a dig now and then. How else are we meant to get any respect?’

‘There’s getting respect and there’s laying into someone for no reason,’ Tom said. ‘You go too far sometimes, and you know it.’

‘Yeah, well, it’s done now, ain’t it?’

Joe strode off. Tom hurried to catch up with him. ‘What’s got into you? You’ve had the hump ever since we left the hospital.’

‘I’m all right.’

‘No, you ain’t.’ Tom sent him a sideways look. ‘It’s that girl Dora, ain’t it? What’s the matter? Did she give you the brush off again?’

‘She was busy,’ Joe mumbled.

‘Avoiding you, more like!’ Tom gave him a friendly nudge. ‘You must be losing your touch, mate!’

‘And you’re fighting the girls off, aren’t you?’ Joe snarled back.

‘At least Katie’s keen.’

‘A bit too keen, if you ask me,’ Joe muttered under his breath.

Tom stopped. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Come on, out with it. Are you saying my Katie’s easy?’

‘Why not? You’ve said it yourself often enough.’

‘That’s different. I ain’t having you insulting my girl.’

Joe swung round, squaring up to him, pent-up tension scorching through his veins.

‘Go on,’ Tom taunted softly. ‘What are you going to do, lay me out like you did that poor bloke in the cells? I don’t reckon the sergeant would buy two accidents in one day, do you?’

Joe looked at his friend’s scowling face and felt his anger ebbing away. What was he doing? Another second and he would have taken a swing at his best mate.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, turning away. ‘Take no notice of me. I’m just fed up, that’s all.’

That was what Dora Doyle did to him. She got under his skin like no other girl he’d ever met.

‘Frustrated, more like,’ Tom said wisely.

‘You could be right.’ Joe couldn’t understand it. He wasn’t bad-looking, he tried to treat her right – better than Tommy treated Katie, anyway – and yet Dora wouldn’t let him anywhere near her. It was driving him mad.

‘When are you going to give up, pal? Just admit she ain’t interested?’

‘I can’t.’ That was the problem. Joe didn’t like to lose. That was what made him such a mean fighter in the ring, because he couldn’t stand the idea of being beaten. He would do whatever it took to win, even if it earned him a bad reputation.

And that was how he felt about Dora, too. The thought of not having her, of Tom and the other lads at the station all knowing he’d failed, was too humiliating for Joe to contemplate.

‘What you need is someone to take your mind off her. Like that Nurse Willard, for instance. She’s a good-looking girl. And she definitely likes you,’ Tom told him.

‘I’m not interested.’ Joe shrugged. Without being vain, he knew girls like Nurse Willard were two a penny, especially for a good-looking bloke like him. But Dora was a real challenge. And the more she pushed him away, the more he wanted her.

He wasn’t ready to give up on her. Not without a fight.

IT WAS A
sunny Saturday afternoon in June, and Helen should have been spending it with Charlie. But that morning he’d telephoned the nurses’ home and left a message to say that something had happened and he wouldn’t be able to see her after all.

She then planned to spend the afternoon catching up with her revision, but Dora and Millie both had a few hours off and had persuaded her to join them for a walk in Victoria Park.

‘It’s such a lovely afternoon, it’s a shame to waste it locked up indoors,’ Millie had said.

Helen eyed the textbooks, teetering in a pile beside her bed. ‘I really should get on with some studying . . .’

‘You know what Miss Hanley always says. Fresh air is good for the brain!’ Dora reminded her.

Helen was glad they had persuaded her. It was a gloriously sunny day and the park was full of families and couples strolling arm in arm. The rose bushes were in full bloom, their exquisite fragrance filling the air. The happy clamour of children playing mingled with distant sounds from the brass band on the bandstand.

Charlie would have loved it, Helen thought. She couldn’t imagine what might be so important that he would miss out on spending time with her.

But at least she had Millie and Dora for company. She had been so busy in Theatre and studying for her Finals, she had hardly spent any time with her room mates recently.

They turned away from the bandstand and headed towards a grove of tall poplar trees, their dark spikes reaching up into the cloudless blue sky. To their right, on the field, an army of women, all dressed in white vests and black shorts, stood in regimented lines, swinging Indian clubs above their heads. Every eye was fixed on a woman who stood in front of them, barking instructions like a sergeant major.

‘What on earth is going on there?’ Helen asked.

‘The Women’s League of Health and Beauty,’ Dora replied. ‘Sister Percival from Casualty told us about it. She and her friend Marjorie often come over here to exercise. She’s ever so keen.’

‘Rather her than me,’ Helen said. ‘After heaving patients around all day, the last thing I’d want to do is spend my time off flinging clubs about.’

‘What do you reckon, Benedict?’ Dora grinned. ‘Shall we join in?’

Millie looked up vaguely. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Blimey, you were miles away!’ Dora laughed.

‘I suppose I must have been.’ Millie smiled back, but Helen could see her blue eyes were troubled.

‘Are you all right?’ she said. ‘You’ve been very quiet.’

Millie hesitated. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘You’ve been saying that for ages, but we can tell you’ve got something on your mind,’ Dora said. ‘Come on, out with it.’

‘Promise not to laugh?’ Millie regarded them apprehensively.

‘Just spit it out!’

She took a deep breath, and they could see her gathering her thoughts. ‘We had a patient on Everett a few weeks ago, a gypsy. She said she could tell people’s fortunes . . .’

‘O’Hara told me about her,’ Dora put in. ‘Didn’t she say a patient was going to die?’

‘That’s right.’ Millie nodded. ‘Everyone was in a frightful state about it.’

Helen guessed what was coming next. ‘Please don’t tell me you let her tell your fortune?’ she sighed.

‘I didn’t want to. Hollins made me do it.’

‘I might have known she’d be involved!’ Dora muttered.

‘So what did the gypsy tell you?’ Helen asked Millie.

‘She told me . . . Sebastian was going to die.’

‘What?’ Helen and Dora both stopped in their tracks at the same time.

‘Those weren’t her exact words. But she did say the next time I saw him, I’d be wearing mourning black. And that’s the same thing, isn’t it?’

Millie looked from one to the other, her blue eyes huge with apprehension. Helen glanced across at Dora’s grim expression.

‘And you’ve been worrying about that all this time?’

‘Wouldn’t you?’

Helen shook her head. ‘You mustn’t take any notice of her. It’s all a load of nonsense.’

‘Tremayne’s right,’ Dora added. ‘It’s all made up.’

‘Are you sure?’ Millie’s voice was tremulous with hope. ‘She seemed awfully convincing.’

‘They always do,’ Dora said. ‘Half the women in my street used to say they could read tea leaves, but most of what they said was a load of old twaddle.’

Millie bit her lip. ‘I wish I could believe that,’ she said. ‘But she predicted Mrs Allen was going to die . . .’

‘It’s a hospital,’ Helen pointed out. ‘Someone’s bound to die occasionally, aren’t they? She probably overheard the doctors talking.’

Millie looked pensive, taking this in. ‘Do you really think she might have made it all up?’

‘I’d bet my next week’s wages on it,’ Dora said firmly.

‘You mustn’t worry about it any more,’ Helen said. ‘Sebastian will come home safe and sound, you’ll see.’

‘I hope you’re right.’ Millie looked at them, shame-faced. ‘I suppose I have been a bit silly, haven’t I?’

‘You, silly? Never!’ Helen grinned at Dora.

‘No suppose about it,’ Dora said. ‘Right, now we’ve sorted that out, let’s have an ice cream to celebrate.’

They bought cornets from the hokey-pokey man on his bicycle. Then they skirted the boating lake while they ate them, and Helen told them about her mother not wanting Charlie to go to the Founder’s Day Ball.

They were both suitably outraged.

‘That’s awful! Why would she do such a thing?’ Millie said.

‘Because she doesn’t think he’s good enough for me.’

‘But he’s an absolute angel, everyone knows that.’

‘Try telling my mother,’ Helen said. ‘She won’t give Charlie a chance. She barely speaks to him if she can help it.’

‘You could try locking them in a broom cupboard together, and not let her out until they’ve made friends?’ Millie suggested.

Helen and Dora looked at each other, neither of them quite sure if she was serious. There was no telling with Millie Benedict.

‘I suppose that’s an idea,’ Helen said slowly. ‘But somehow I don’t think it would work.’

‘Dora! Dora!’

She stopped, her ice cream halfway to her mouth.

It was Millie who turned around to see where the voice was coming from. ‘I think someone’s trying to get your attention,’ she said.

Helen looked over her shoulder, squinting into the sunshine. Two young men were approaching them. She recognised the taller one with dark curly hair, but not the pale, slight boy shambling along beside him.

‘Isn’t that Nick Riley, from the hospital?’ she said.

‘So it is,’ Millie said. ‘But who’s that with him?’

‘His brother Danny.’ Dora’s voice was flat.

‘Do you know them?’ Millie asked.

‘I used to live next door to them.’ Dora started to walk on, but Helen and Millie stayed put.

‘Don’t you want to talk to your friends?’ Millie asked.

Before Dora had a chance to reply, the pale-haired boy rushed up to her. His brother held back, slowing his steps.

‘All right, Danny?’ Dora’s smile was forced. ‘How are you?’

‘Nick’s t-taking me on the boat!’ The young man’s eager smile lit up his face, transforming his odd features.

‘That’s nice for you, love.’

Nick Riley caught up with them. He nodded a curt greeting to Millie and Helen, but barely spared a glance for Dora.

‘Come on, Dan, we’d best go. They’re letting all the passengers on, and we don’t want to get left behind.’ He took hold of his brother’s sleeve, but Danny held back.

‘W-Why don’t you come with us?’ he asked Dora.

‘No, love, I can’t. I’m here with my friends.’

‘Th-They can c-come too, can’t they, Nick?’

‘I don’t think so, mate.’

‘Oh, but I’d love to!’ Millie chimed in. ‘I haven’t been on a pleasure cruiser for ages. And it’s such a lovely day. Oh, do let’s!’

Helen caught Dora’s tense expression. ‘We really should be getting back,’ she ventured, but Millie was having none of it.

‘Nonsense, we have lots of time! Now, where do we buy the tickets?’ She had already turned and was picking her way down the path towards the boat house.

Helen glanced back at Nick. ‘Looks like we don’t have any choice,’ she said apologetically. ‘I hope you don’t mind?’

He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘It’s a free country,’ he muttered, his expression as tight as Dora’s.

The only ones who seemed happy about the trip were Millie and Nick’s brother. After clinging to Dora’s hand shyly for a minute or two after they set sail, Danny had slowly shuffled towards Helen and Millie as they stood at the rail, looking out over the lake.

‘Hello, young man,’ Millie greeted him cheerfully. ‘Come to look at the ducks with us, have you?’

She chatted easily to him, pointing out the various birds as they bobbed along beside the boat and making up stories about them. Danny listened avidly to her every word, gazing up at her enchanted, as if he had never seen such a glorious creature in his whole life. Helen smiled to herself. It looked as if Millie Benedict had won another admirer.

But Danny’s brother wasn’t so easily won over. Helen watched him as he sat on the narrow bench, his gaze fixed on the far horizon. Dora sat at the other end of the bench, her hands folded in her lap, gazing in the opposite direction. Both still as statues, both of them looking at anything and everything except each other.

And yet even from the other side of the deck, Helen could feel the tension crackling between them, like a ribbon of electricity binding them together.

As soon as the boat docked, Nick was on his feet, springing across the gap between the side of the boat and dry land, even before the crew had a chance to lay down the gangplank. He waited on the bank to help his brother off, guiding his unsteady steps across the narrow strip of wood.