The Nightingale Nurses (27 page)

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Authors: Donna Douglas

BOOK: The Nightingale Nurses
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She pushed him towards the doors. ‘There was something else,’ Peter said.

She stopped abruptly. ‘What?’

He glanced towards Esther’s bed. ‘I . . . I think she saw me,’ he whispered.

‘You mean, she recognised you?’

He nodded. ‘I can’t be sure, but I think so.’ He turned to Dora, his face desperate. ‘What if she wakes up and tells the police, Dor?’

Dora looked back at him steadily and said, ‘I hope she does.’

Chapter Twenty-Seven

RUBY TRIED TO
smile fondly across the kitchen table at Danny as he struggled to cut up his sausages. His eating habits were truly disgusting, even worse than her brothers’. She could hardly bear to lift her gaze from her own plate, he made her feel so sick.

‘Would you like me to help cut that up for you, ducks?’ she offered through gritted teeth.

Danny stared at her, his strange pale eyes wary. Did he have to jump like that every time she spoke to him? He was so jittery she wanted to slap him. How was she ever supposed to impress Nick when Danny acted as if he was terrified of her?

‘Ruby asked you a question, Dan,’ Nick prompted him gently. ‘You have to answer people when they talk to you.’

‘It’s all right, Nick.’ Ruby reached over and took the knife and fork out of Dan’s hands. She vented her frustration on his plate of food, hacking his sausages into tiny pieces. ‘There you are, love,’ she said, handing the fork back to him. ‘You can manage now, can’t you?’

‘Look at him.’ Nick nodded at Danny as he started to eat. ‘He doesn’t often get a decent meal.’

‘It’s only a few sausages!’

‘All the same, it’s more than my mum ever does for him.’ He turned his gaze to her. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

Ruby felt herself blushing, warmed by his gratitude. She couldn’t remember the last time Nick had looked at her so lovingly.

She had felt as if she was losing him over the past few weeks. Their day-to-day life hadn’t changed – Nick went to work, came home for his tea, put his pay packet on the table every Friday and acted like the dutiful husband – but she could feel him slipping away, growing more and more remote from her every day.

The thought of losing him made her desperate. Which was why she’d come up with her new plan.

‘It’s not fair, the way your mum treats Danny,’ she said. ‘I worry about him.’

‘Me too.’ Nick’s face darkened. He’d always worried about Danny. Tough as he was, his brother was his weak spot.

‘I was thinking,’ Ruby ventured. ‘Perhaps he would be better off coming to live with us after all?’

Nick flashed a glance at her. ‘Do you mean it?’

‘Of course I mean it.’ She toyed with her food. ‘I know I said I didn’t want him to move in before, but that was only because I didn’t think we’d have room with the baby. But now . . .’ She let the words trail off, gazing down at her plate.

Nick said nothing. Ruby flicked a quick look at him from under her lashes. His face was expressionless but she could see the sadness in his eyes. She wished she hadn’t mentioned the baby.

She had never anticipated how much it would affect him. Her pregnancy had not been real to her, but it had to Nick. He tried to hide it for her sake, but his misery weighed down on them, and would sink them if she weren’t careful.

‘I just want to make sure Danny has a good home,’ Ruby continued. ‘Somewhere he’s loved and looked after.’

She didn’t look at Danny as she said it. The thought of him being under her roof actually made her feel sick. She could imagine him lolloping about, being clumsy and breaking her precious things. And the thought of his strange eyes watching her wherever she went gave her the creeps. But she was desperate.

Nick turned to his brother. ‘What do you reckon, Dan? Would you like to come and live with me and Ruby?’

‘No,’ Danny’s voice was firm, for once with no trace of a stammer. ‘I don’t want to live with her.’

Ruby looked up sharply. Danny was staring straight at her across the kitchen table.

‘Charming!’ She tried to laugh.

‘That’s not a very nice thing to say, Danny,’ Nick said.

‘She d-didn’t say nice things about m-me.’

Ruby saw Nick’s dark frown and laughed to cover her dismay. ‘Oh, Danny, that’s a wicked lie. I never said anything bad!’

‘You d-did. I heard you. You told your m-mum I was a c-cabbage.’

She blushed, feeling Nick’s eyes on her. ‘You must have got that wrong, love,’ she said kindly.

Danny nodded violently, his head loose on his spindly neck. ‘You w-were talking to your mum. About the l-lady who was having a baby and then she wasn’t. You said about pretending—’

‘Well, I can’t say as I remember it.’ Ruby jumped up, gathering the plates. ‘I’ll clear these away and get the pudding. It’s jam roly-poly, your favourite.’

She took her time lifting the muslin-wrapped pudding out of the saucepan, gripping the edge of the stove to stop herself from shaking. Trust Danny to remember that conversation! He couldn’t remember his own name most of the time.

She was tense as they ate their pudding. His eyes kept going to Danny, waiting for him to say something else. He only had to open his stupid mouth and he could blow her whole world apart.

After tea, Nick said he was taking his brother home.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Ruby said, rushing to fetch her coat. ‘I fancy a walk,’ she added, seeing Nick’s quizzical look.

‘But it’s raining?’

‘I can still get some fresh air, can’t I?’

‘Suit yourself.’ He shrugged.

June Riley was at home for once. She was asleep in the armchair by the empty kitchen grate, her feet up on the fender, cigarette hanging out of her mouth. In the corner, Cab Calloway sang about Minnie the Moocher on the wireless.

June opened one eye as they let themselves in the back door.

‘You’re late.’ She took the cigarette out of her mouth and flicked ash into the grate. ‘I thought you’d kidnapped the little sod.’

‘As if you’d care,’ Nick sneered back.

‘I hope you haven’t over-excited him?’ June glared at her eldest son and then at Danny who ducked back outside. Ruby watched him clamber up to his perch on top of the coal bunker. She glanced back at Nick and June, still arguing, and went outside.

Danny was staring up at the grey sky. Ruby picked her way across the yard and sat down on an upturned tin bath, heedless of the damp that seeped through her coat. Rain pattered down around them.

‘What are you looking at, Danny?’ she asked.

‘The stars.’

Ruby gazed up. It wasn’t yet seven in the evening, and the sun was still high in the August sky, though presently it was hidden behind a pewter cloud. ‘It ain’t even dark yet!’

Danny shot her a quick, scornful look. ‘The stars are st-still out there, even when it ain’t d-dark.’

‘Is that right? You learn something new every day.’ Ruby patted her hair. The rain would ruin her curls if she stayed out much longer. ‘I bet you know all the stars’ names, too. You remember a lot of things, don’t you, Dan? Things we don’t give you credit for.’

He turned his face back up to the sky. Ruby searched for the right words. What she said next was so important, it had to be exactly right.

‘Look, Danny. What you heard me and my mum saying – about babies and stuff – none of it was true. We were just having a laugh, that’s all.’

He didn’t look at her. She couldn’t even be sure he was listening.

Ruby took a deep breath. ‘The thing is, Nick would be upset if he heard what we’d been saying. He’d be upset with me . . . and with you, too. He might even not want to see you for a while. You wouldn’t want that, would you?’

He still didn’t look at her, but she caught the slightest shake of his head. ‘It would upset me, too. And Frank and Dennis might want to know why I was upset, and then I’d have to tell them it was you who’d caused all the trouble. Can you imagine how angry they’d be with you then?’

She saw the flash of fear in his eyes. He’d understood that all right.

‘I don’t want to have to tell them anything,’ Ruby went on. ‘So let’s just keep this our little secret, shall we?’

Before Danny had a chance to reply, Nick came out of the house. ‘Right, we’re off.’ His sharp gaze moved from her to Danny. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Everything’s fine.’ Ruby stood up, brushing the rain off her coat. ‘We were just having a little chat. Ain’t that right, Danny?’ She sent him a meaningful look.

Nick took her hand as they walked home. It was the first time he’d touched her in weeks.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘What for?’

‘For trying so hard with Danny.’ His eyes met hers in the darkness. ‘I know it’s not easy for you.’

Ruby smiled at him. ‘Don’t be daft, he’s family. Besides, you’ve put up with my mum often enough!’

‘All the same, I really appreciate it.’

‘Show me how much.’ She turned, winding her arms around his neck, willing his rigid body to respond.

And it did. Slowly but surely, she felt his muscles relax as he melted against her, his strong arms slipping around her waist.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

‘SPAIN,’ MILLIE SAID
flatly.

‘There’s a conflict over there. A group of army officers started a revolution against the government in the Canary Islands, and it’s spread to the mainland.’ She could hear the excitement in Seb’s voice, crackling down the telephone line even though he was thousands of miles away. ‘The newspaper wants me to go out to Madrid for when it starts.’

‘It sounds dangerous.’

‘It’s a terrific assignment, and a great chance for me. And the bureau must think a lot of me, if they think I’m up to it . . .’

But Millie didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. Her head was suddenly filled with the sound of gunfire, exploding bombs – and the gypsy woman’s voice.

You’ll be wearing mourning black next time you see him . . .

‘I don’t want you to go,’ she blurted out.

She heard Seb sigh. ‘Look, I know you’re disappointed I’m not coming home straight away, Mil. I’m disappointed too. But this is a marvellous opportunity . . .’

‘What if you’re killed?’

He laughed. ‘I’ve stayed out of trouble so far, haven’t I?’

‘They weren’t firing bullets in Berlin, were they? I mean it, Seb. Please come home,’ she begged.

‘I will, darling. I just need to do this first . . .’

‘And what about what
I
need?’

‘What about it?’ His voice turned cold. ‘I seem to recall supporting your decision to be a nurse.’

There it was again, the old argument. Seb had been so good about her training, even when everyone else had been against it. He had even agreed to put off their wedding until after she had qualified. It was only fair that she should offer him the same kind of support. But she was too afraid.

‘That’s different,’ she said.

‘How is it different?’

‘Nurses don’t get shot at, for one thing.’

She heard his heavy sigh. ‘You’re just being silly.’

‘And you’re being selfish!’ Millie slammed down the phone and immediately felt wretched. She snatched up the receiver again, but all she heard was silence.

The following morning brought a new admission to Judd, the Male Medical ward.

‘Bed seven. Acute nephritis,’ Sister Judd whispered when she gathered her nurses around the table to hand out the worklists. How she had ever become a ward sister Millie had no idea. Her shyness was almost painful. ‘Mr Latimer has already been in to see him. The patient must be kept very warm, so I want you to make sure his hot water bottles are topped up regularly.’ She addressed the bib of Millie’s apron, unable to meet her eye. ‘It is very important that they must not be allowed to cool.’

‘Yes, Sister.’

‘You must also be sure to check for oedema whenever you do his TPRs,’ she added, her gaze sweeping the floor at their feet. ‘If there are any signs of swelling, tell me at once.’

She handed out the worklists, and the nurses quickly dispersed to carry out their various jobs. Millie headed straight to the kitchen to prepare the hot water bottles for the new patient.

It wasn’t long before her thoughts strayed back to Seb. She knew she was being unfair. Seb had backed her all the way when she’d decided to defy her family and train as a nurse. She didn’t blame him for expecting her to do the same for him. He’d finally found something he was good at, something he felt as passionately about as she did about her nursing. She was proud of him for doing so well. And yet . . .

It was that wretched fortune-teller’s fault. If she hadn’t put those stupid thoughts in her head, Millie would never have lost her temper.

‘Have you finished making those hot water bottles yet, Benedict?’

Staff Nurse Strickland stood in the doorway. If Sister Judd was a mouse, then Strickland was a rhinoceros. She had no difficulty throwing her considerable weight about on the ward, her voice as loud as Sister’s was inaudible.

‘Yes, Staff.’ Millie felt Strickland peering over her shoulder, waiting to pounce as she screwed the stopper on the rubber bottle.

‘Is that on securely? Are you sure you’ve expelled all the air from the bottle?’

‘Yes, Staff.’

‘And you’ve inspected the washer and screw for leaks?

‘Yes, Staff.’ Millie suppressed a sigh as she wrapped the bottle in its flannel cover.

She left the kitchen and headed down the ward, Strickland following her. ‘Remember, Nurse, the bottle must not touch the patient,’ she boomed. ‘A burn or a bruise is a disgrace to you and this ward, do you understand?’

‘Yes, Staff.’ Millie rolled her eyes heavenwards. She had been on the ward for nearly six weeks, and Strickland still treated her like a dirty pro.

‘Honestly,’ Millie muttered to herself, ‘if I can’t manage something as simple as filling a hot water bottle by now, it’s a pretty poor show . . .’

‘Goes on a bit, doesn’t she?’ said a familiar voice.

Millie looked up and found herself looking into the cheeky, smiling face of the new patient in bed seven.

It was early afternoon and Helen sat at the third-year dining table, still groggy with sleep after waking up from her night shift. She could hardly face her plate of mince and potatoes. She pushed the food around her plate, listening to Brenda Bevan as she chatted to Amy Hollins at the far end of the table about her wedding plans.

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