The Nightingale Nurses (24 page)

‘She knows I love her.’

‘And does she love you?’

Joe frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Oh, nothing. It’s just she never talks about you, not like the other girls talk about their boyfriends.’ Penny cocked her head, listening as the band struck up again. ‘I love this tune. “Pennies from Heaven”.’ She started to hum to herself, swaying from side to side. ‘Funny, isn’t it? That’s my name . . . Penny. Penny’s from Heaven.’

‘And are you?’ Joe asked absently, his gaze fixed on the doors.

‘That’s for you to find out, isn’t it?’ She tapped his chest playfully. ‘Dance with me and I might show you.’

‘Thanks, love, but I’d better go and see what’s keeping Dora.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ Penny tottered unsteadily after him. ‘I can check in the Ladies’ cloakroom, make sure she hasn’t fainted or anything!’

But Dora wasn’t in the cloakroom. ‘Perhaps she’s run away?’ Penny giggled.

‘She’d better not have.’ Joe tried to smile, but inside he was burning with humiliation. ‘She’s probably just gone outside for a smoke. I’ll take a look.’

He ran down the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. He could hear Penny clattering behind, unsteady in her heels, but he didn’t wait for her. He was at the door before she had even reached the last step.

He was about to go outside when he spotted Dora through the frosted glass. And she wasn’t alone.

Joe pulled in a sharp, jerky breath, as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over him.

Dora and Nick were sitting on opposite sides of the steps, not touching, not even looking at each other. But somehow he knew they were together. It was as if there was an invisible rope binding them.

Penny caught up with him. ‘Well? Is she out there – oh!’ She peered through the etched glass, tilting her head to get a better view. ‘Well, I never! Nick Riley. I knew it.’ She smirked. ‘There was always something about the way she looked at him . . .’

Joe turned away and paced across the foyer, fighting down his anger. He was so blinded by rage, the black-and-white floor tiles blurred in front of his eyes.

‘He’s coming back!’ Penny rushed over to him, quivering with excitement, just as the doors flew open and Nick appeared. He strode straight past them, not even looking Joe’s way as he lurked in the shadows.

‘Well?’ Penny’s face fell into a pout of disappointment. ‘Aren’t you going to go after him and punch him on the nose?’

Joe watched Nick stomping up the stairs. He could feel a slow burn of rage creeping like molten lava through his veins. ‘He ain’t worth it.’

‘Neither is she.’ Penny shot a filthy look towards the doors. ‘To be honest, I don’t know why you bother with her. You could do a lot better for yourself.’

But I don’t want to do a lot better, he thought. He wanted Dora, simple as that. And the fact that she plainly didn’t want him only made him more determined to have her.

‘Why don’t you come back inside?’ Penny coaxed. ‘I bet I know how to cheer you up.’

‘Some other time,’ he said, heading for the doors.

Dora was still sitting on the steps, her face buried in her hands. She turned at the sound of his footsteps. Joe pretended not to notice the hope dying in her eyes when she saw it was him.

‘There you are.’ He forced lightness into his voice. ‘I wondered where you’d got to.’

She gave him a weary smile. ‘Sorry, Joe. I didn’t mean to abandon you like that.’

‘Are you coming back inside?’

She shook her head. ‘Would you mind if I went home? I’ve got a headache and I don’t really feel like dancing.’

‘Neither do I,’ he admitted heavily. The thought of going back into that ballroom and pretending everything was fine was beyond him. ‘I’ll walk you home.’

‘There’s no need. I don’t want to ruin your evening?’

He sent her a long, steady look. ‘I think it’s too late for that, don’t you?’

THERE WAS SOMETHING
different about Joe as they walked home. He slouched along beside her, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. Dora was grateful not to have to fend off his wandering arm, but the quiet anger vibrating off him made her wary.

‘I’m sorry we had to leave early,’ she said again.

‘’S’all right,’ he muttered.

She glanced at his sulky profile. ‘You didn’t have to come with me, you know. I could have walked home by myself.’

‘Are you sure you just don’t want me out of the way so you can sneak off and meet
him
?’

She frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Don’t look so innocent,’ snarled Joe. ‘I saw you two together. How long has it been going on with you and that porter?’

The truth dawned. ‘You mean Nick?’

‘Of course I mean Nick! Why, who else are you playing about with?’ The harshness in his voice shocked her.

‘I’m not playing about with anyone.’

‘That’s not how it seemed to me. I saw the way you looked at each other. Does his missus know?’

Dora caught the angry glint in Joe’s eye and knew there would be no reasoning with him. ‘You don’t know anything about it.’

She started to walk away but he snatched at her arm, swinging her round to face him. ‘Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t walk away from me!’

Dora looked down at his hand gripping her arm. ‘Let go of me.’

‘That’s all you ever say to me, isn’t it? Don’t touch me . . . stay away.’ His lip curled. ‘I thought it was because you were such a nice girl. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? You were just stringing me along, while all the time you were having it off with a married man.’ Joe’s handsome face was flushed with temper. ‘I bet you were having a right laugh at me, weren’t you? What a mug I’ve been, thinking you were so different from the other girls. When all the time you were the biggest slut of them all . . .’

Dora’s stinging slap stopped him mid-sentence.

‘How dare you! Don’t you ever call me that.’

‘What else would you call a girl who goes with married men?’

‘I don’t have to listen to this.’ She wrenched her arm free but he grabbed her shoulders, slamming her back against the wall.

‘I told you, you don’t walk away from me,’ he hissed.

‘Get off, you’re hurting me.’ She tried to struggle free but he pinned her, his full weight against her. She could feel the hardness of him, pressing into her.

‘Not until you’ve given me a taste of what Nick Riley’s been having all this time.’ Joe’s eyes were mad with malice, his mouth twisted into a terrifying leer. She barely recognised the man she thought she knew.

She suddenly remembered her stepfather Alf and the way he used to force himself on her. Her heart was crashing against her ribs, but she forced herself to stay calm.

‘Let me go and we’ll forget this ever happened,’ she whispered.

‘Forget it? Oh, no, love. I want to make this a night to remember.’

Joe’s mouth came down on hers before Dora could make a move to stop him. There was no tenderness in his kiss. His mouth was fierce and possessive, grinding against hers, his tongue invading. Dora couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even cry out in pain as her lips were crushed against her teeth. She tried to jerk her head away but his hand came up, clamping around her chin so she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She felt the damp, rough brickwork grazing her bare skin as he rammed the length of his body against hers, his hand fumbling in the folds of her skirt.

No.
A single thought, as clear and piercing as a beam of light, penetrated her fear. Not this time. Not again.

She brought her knee up with all her strength between Joe’s legs. He buckled instantly, doubling up, gurgling with shock and pain.

He let her go to clutch at his groin and Dora seized her chance to get away, kicking off her heels and sprinting down the road towards the hospital.

Helen was sitting up in bed studying when Dora burst in.

‘You’re early, I didn’t expect—’ Her smile died when she looked up and saw the state her friend was in. Dora’s dress was smeared with dirt, one strap hanging loosely off her freckled shoulder. Her shoes were missing and her stockings were shredded and bloody. ‘Oh my God, Doyle, what happened to you?’

‘I fell over.’

Helen threw down her pen and scrambled off the bed. ‘You’re shaking like a leaf.’

‘I’m just a bit c-cold, that’s all.’ Dora sank down on her bed. She didn’t resist as Helen pulled the quilt up around her shoulders, fussing over her.

‘What really happened?’ she asked.

‘I told you, I fell over.’

Helen looked at the fingertip-shaped bruises blossoming on the plump flesh of Dora’s arms. ‘And did you get these falling over, too?’ Dora stared at the ground. ‘You can tell me. I’m your friend.’

Dora was silent, her jaw obstinately set.

‘Very well,’ Helen sighed. ‘At least let me help get you cleaned up.’

‘I can manage.’

‘I’m sure you can, but I want to help. You get undressed while I run you a bath.’

At least with everyone out at the ball there was enough hot water for a decent bath. Helen filled the tub to the brim. All the time she couldn’t stop thinking about those bruises on her friend’s arms, or the bloody grazes down her back.

She had just finished running the bath when Dora came in, huddled in her old dressing gown.

‘There you are,’ said Helen. ‘You’ll feel better after a nice hot soak.’

‘Thank you.’ Dora’s lips were so swollen and bruised, she could barely manage a smile.

‘I wish I could do more.’ Helen hesitated. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?’

Dora shook her head. ‘I already said—’

‘You fell over. Yes, I know,’ Helen sighed.

She went back to their room. Dora’s clothes were abandoned in a heap beside her bed. Helen picked up her shredded, blood-stained stockings and threw them away, then folded up the dress and stuffed it to the back of the wardrobe.

Dora returned half an hour later, her red hair hanging in damp corkscrew curls around her face.

‘Do you feel better?’ Helen asked.

‘Much better, thanks.’ But Helen noticed how carefully Dora eased off her dressing gown, wincing with pain. She was wearing her flannel nightgown underneath, feet rammed into her old slippers.

Helen watched her out of the corner of her eye as she turned off her bedside lamp and slipped into bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin. There was no point in trying to talk to her any more, she decided. Once Dora had made her mind up she wasn’t going to speak, wild horses wouldn’t have dragged a word out of her.

Helen went back to making her notes, and a moment later she heard Dora’s deep, even breathing, telling her she had drifted off to sleep.

‘Describe the complications of Scarlet Fever.’ Helen shuddered as she read the sample exam question, thinking of Charlie.

Seeing him so ill had frightened her. But she forced herself to be practical. His mother was right: Scarlet Fever might be nasty but in a week or two he would be as right as rain.

She picked up her pen and began to write. ‘Complications of Scarlet Fever include otitis medea, hyperpyrexia, kidney failure—’

‘No!’ Dora’s sudden cry made Helen jump, splotching ink on the virgin whiteness of her new page. ‘Get off me! Don’t touch me!’

‘Doyle?’ Helen put down her pen, slipped out of bed and crossed the room. ‘Doyle, wake up!’ She held Dora’s thrashing arms, trying to still her. ‘It’s all right, you’re safe.’

Dora’s eyes shot open. Her body was rigid. ‘Where . . . what happened?’

‘You had a nightmare,’ Helen soothed her. ‘But it’s all right now, you’re quite safe.’

She put out her hand to stroke the curls off Dora’s face. She felt Dora flinch under her touch, then the fight seemed to go out of her and she relaxed. A few moments later, she drifted back to sleep.

Helen was still writing by torchlight when Millie crept in just after midnight. She tiptoed exaggeratedly across the room, her shoes in her hand.

‘How did you get in?’ Helen whispered.

‘We climbed through O’Hara’s window.’ Millie hiccuped loudly. ‘It was safer than climbing all the way up here.’

‘You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck, the state you’re in.’

‘Don’t be silly, we’ve done it lots of times. It’s perfectly safe . . . ouch!’ Millie tripped over her bedframe and stumbled headlong across the room.

Helen watched her climbing to her feet, and tried not to smile. ‘Did you have fun?’

‘Rather! Our gin ran out quite quickly, but luckily we met a couple of very sweet med students who sneaked us drinks. We were all terribly merry, but then one of the boys was sick all over Mr Latimer’s Bentley. Such larks! His chauffeur was utterly furious. Chased us for miles.’ She shrieked with laughter, then quickly covered her mouth.

She flopped backwards on to her bed, her arms outspread. ‘How was your evening?’

‘Charlie has Scarlet Fever.’

‘Really?’ Millie catapulted upright, instantly alert. ‘Oh, bad luck. How is he?’

‘Feeling very sorry for himself, so his mother says.’

‘I’m not surprised. Scarlet Fever is beastly. But I’m sure he’ll be up and about in no time.’

Dora stirred. Millie squinted into the darkness. ‘Is that Doyle? What’s she doing back so early?’

Helen hesitated, wondering whether to tell Millie about the state Dora was in when she returned home. She doubted if their room mate would thank her for sharing the secret.

‘I think she wanted an early night,’ she said, and glanced back at Dora’s hunched shape under the sheets. ‘She had another nightmare.’

‘Really? She hasn’t had one of those in months.’ Millie turned to look at Dora, frowning. ‘I wonder what brought that on?’

Helen looked at the girl, fast asleep again. ‘I wonder,’ she said.

‘
BUT JOE’S SAID
he’s sorry,’ Katie O’Hara protested.

Dora looked down at the plate of greasy grey stew in front of her. ‘Sorry isn’t good enough.’

‘He couldn’t help it. He was a bit tipsy.’

‘A bit tipsy!’ Dora caught Sister Sutton’s sharp glance from the other end of the dining table, and lowered her voice. ‘He was pie-eyed!’

‘All the more reason why you should forgive him,’ Katie said through a mouthful of food. ‘He didn’t know what he was doing.’