The Nightingale Nurses (28 page)

‘I’ve just chosen my dress,’ she enthused, her eyes sparkling. ‘Oh, you should see it, it’s absolutely beautiful. Such a pretty neckline, and the lace . . .’

Helen caught Amy’s glance from the other end of the table. For once, she didn’t seem to be listening very keenly to her friend, her eyes glazed, chin propped on one hand. Helen wondered if it was because she was feeling tired and groggy too. For the past six weeks they had been working nights on adjoining Female Medical wards.

Not that they’d exchanged a single word in all that time. While the other night nurses kept each other company, Amy was always more interested in entertaining her boyfriend than talking to Helen.

‘Now all I have to do is decide what jewellery I’m going to wear,’ Brenda droned on, oblivious to Amy’s lack of interest. ‘I was thinking of pearls . . .’

Before she could finish her sentence, Millie appeared in the doorway to the dining room. She spotted Helen and came hurrying over.

‘Thank goodness you’re awake, Tremayne. I was hoping to catch you—’

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ The sight of a second-year at their table galvanised Amy into life. ‘You can’t just stroll over here, you know. Get back to your own table at once!’

‘Oh, do shut up, Hollins!’

‘What did you just say to me? I could report you, you know.’ Amy Hollins’ mouth opened and closed like a stranded fish, but Millie ignored her, turning straight back to Helen.

‘I have something very important I need to say to you . . .’

Helen sighed. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve left your cigarettes out in the room again and you want me to hide them before Sister Sutton finds them?’

‘It’s more serious than that.’ Something in Millie’s sombre face made Helen’s skin prickle. ‘Now I want you to promise me to stay very calm . . .’

All the way up to Judd ward, Helen kept telling herself that it must be a mistake. Yet as soon as she walked through the double doors, she knew it was him. His bed was at the far end of the ward, but Helen would have known him anywhere.

She started towards him, but Staff Nurse Strickland stepped in her path.

‘And where do you think you’re going?’ she boomed.

‘Please, Staff . . . my boyfriend has just been admitted. Mr Dawson?’

Nurse Strickland looked over her shoulder towards Charlie’s bed, then back at Helen. ‘That doesn’t give you the right to wander into this ward at will, you know. It’s not a free-for-all.’

‘I know, Staff.’ Helen planted herself firmly in front of her, not moving. Nurse Strickland glared at her for a moment.

‘Wait there,’ she instructed.

As she went off to consult Sister Judd, Helen kept her eyes fixed on Charlie’s bed. She was going to see him, whatever Strickland or Sister Judd said.

She was all ready to run to him when Nurse Strickland returned. ‘Sister says you can have five minutes,’ she said. ‘Five minutes, Nurse. Do you understand?’

Charlie’s face lit up when he saw Helen.

‘Surprise.’ He smiled weakly. ‘Bet you didn’t expect to see me, did you?’

‘No, I didn’t.’ Helen fought to keep her voice steady. ‘How are you, Charlie?’

‘Well, I feel as if I’ve been kicked in the side by a donkey, but apart from that . . .’

She sank down on the chair beside his bed. ‘What happened?’

‘I dunno, love. I was doing all right till yesterday. All ready to get up and about, I was. But then I took a turn for the worse and Mum sent for the doctor and here I am.’ He struggled to lean closer to her. ‘To be honest, I was hoping you could tell me what’s going on. That consultant bloke who came this morning used that many long words, I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about!’

Helen reached for his hand. His skin felt clammy in hers. ‘You have nephritis,’ she explained. ‘It’s a kidney infection. It can be a side effect of Scarlet Fever.’

Charlie nodded. ‘And this infection . . . is it serious?’

Helen hesitated. She wanted to lie to him, but she couldn’t. ‘Infections are always serious,’ she chose her words carefully. ‘But they can be treated. And you’re young and strong enough to fight it.’

‘Then I reckon that’s what I’ll do.’ He leaned back against the pillows. ‘I’m in good hands, anyway. Although I’d thank your mate not to keep piling me up with blankets and hot water bottles!’ He tugged at the collar of his pyjamas. ‘I’m sweltering in here. Doesn’t she know it’s flaming August?’

Helen smiled. ‘That’s part of the treatment, I’m afraid.’

‘Talk about kill or cure!’

Out of the corner of her eye, Helen saw Staff Nurse Strickland advancing up the ward towards her.

‘I’ve got to go. Can I get you anything?’

‘A couple of new kidneys might be nice.’

‘I was thinking more of a newspaper!’ she laughed.

‘As a matter of fact, there is something you can do for me, if you don’t mind?’ Charlie’s face was suddenly serious. ‘Can you have a word with my mum, let her know what’s going on? She’s bound to be in a state, and I know she won’t make head nor tail of anything the doctor says to her. Can you let her know I’m alive and in good hands?’

‘I’ll go and see her before I go back on duty,’ Helen said. ‘I’m not due back on until nine, so I’ve plenty of time.’

‘Thanks, love. You’ll let her know I’m all right, won’t you?’

She read the unspoken message in his blue eyes.

‘I’ll put her mind at rest,’ Helen promised.

ON SUNDAY MORNING,
Dora had to go to church with the other students who weren’t on duty until the afternoon. She had never been much of a churchgoer until she came to the Nightingale, but this morning she kneeled in the dusty pew and prayed as hard as she could for God to deliver Esther Gold.

She didn’t know if she was doing the right thing, or whether He would even listen.

‘Does God mind if you pray for Jews in church?’ she had asked Helen when they met briefly at supper the previous evening. She knew Helen of all people wouldn’t laugh at her for asking such a thing and besides, her father was a vicar.

Helen considered it seriously for a moment. ‘I don’t think it matters,’ she said. ‘We are all God’s children, after all. And don’t forget, Jesus himself was a Jew,’ she added.

Dora also prayed for Helen’s boyfriend Charlie, and for her own brother Peter, that he would finally see sense and leave the Blackshirts. Although she wasn’t sure he deserved her prayers; they had hardly spoken since that day at Esther’s bedside. If they passed in the hospital corridor, he refused even to meet her eye.

After church, she missed dinner and rushed straight back to Everett. She nearly fainted when she saw the door to Esther’s room firmly closed.

As she was dithering outside, wondering what to do, the door opened and Sister Everett appeared.

‘Ah, Doyle, there you are.’ She greeted her with a smile. ‘Don’t look so worried, girl, it’s good news. Your friend has woken up at last.’

Dora felt her legs buckle with relief. ‘Is – is she all right?’ She hardly dared to ask the question.

‘The consultant is with her now. But so far it seems very promising.’ Sister gave Dora a severe look. ‘You needn’t think I can spare you to go visiting just yet,’ she warned. ‘There are the bathrooms to clean first. If I can see my face in the taps, then I might allow you to spend a few minutes with Miss Gold.’

Knowing Esther was awake was such a relief Dora would have happily cleaned a hundred bathrooms. She scrubbed and wiped and polished until the gritty Vim powder turned her hands raw.

An hour later, Sister Everett inspected her distorted reflection in the taps and then pronounced herself satisfied.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘You may go and see your friend. But be sure not to overtax her,’ she warned.

Esther was still very groggy. Dora watched her as she drifted in and out of sleep.

‘Miss Gold?’ she said softly. ‘Esther?’

She turned her head slowly. ‘Dora?’ She winced as she tried to smile through stiff, swollen lips. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘You’re on my ward,’ Dora said.

‘Am I?’ Esther looked around her vaguely. Her dark brows drew together as she tried to think. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘A couple of days. You had us all worried!’ Dora smiled shakily.

‘I – I can’t remember what happened. It was dark . . . I was walking home . . .’ Her eyes suddenly opened wide, full of fear and panic. ‘My father! Has anyone seen him? He’ll be so worried . . .’

‘Shhh, it’s all right.’ Dora quietened her. ‘You don’t have to worry. Dr Adler is looking after him.’

‘Dr Adler?’ Esther relaxed back against the pillow. ‘That’s very kind of him.’

‘He thinks a lot of you,’ Dora said. ‘He’s been by your bedside every day.’

‘Has he?’ Esther started to smile then closed her eyes, flinching with pain.

Dora leaned over her. ‘Miss Gold? Are you all right?’

‘I have a terrible headache. Everything is such a jumble in my mind . . .’

‘It will all sort itself out in the end. You just need to rest now, and try to get better.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.’ As Esther reached out her hand to Dora, something dropped on to the blanket. ‘What’s this?’

Dora blushed. ‘It’s the
hamsa
,’ she said, pressing it back into Esther’s hand. ‘It belonged to you once, but you gave it to me for luck when I first came here for my interview. I – I thought you should have it back.’

It seemed like a silly gesture now, but at the time it was the only thing she could think of.

‘I remember it.’ Esther’s fingers closed around it. ‘You’re very kind.’

She tried to hand it back, but Dora shook her head. ‘You keep it,’ she said, adding silently, You need a bit of luck more than I do.

Ruby tipped the tin of charred roast potatoes into the dustbin and replaced the lid with a crash. She was in a rage, and didn’t care who knew it. It was all she could do to stop herself from kicking the dustbin down the concrete stairwell.

‘All right?’ Nick came out of the sitting room as she slammed the front door shut.

‘What do you think?’ She pushed past him into the kitchen. Nick followed her.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘If you must know, I’ve just chucked our Sunday dinner in the bin.’

He stared at her. ‘What for?’

‘Because the stupid oven burned it all. The Yorkshire puddings have gone flat, the potatoes are like bits of coal, and you could probably mend your boots on this horrible lump of beef.’ She thrust the tin under his nose. The beef sat in the middle of it, shrivelled and congealing. ‘You see? Everything’s ruined.’

‘Are you sure you didn’t just leave it in the oven and forget it again?’ Nick smirked.

‘That’s right! Blame me. It’s always my bloody fault, ain’t it?’ Ruby dropped the roasting tin with a crash, then burst into tears.

Nick’s smile dropped. ‘Jesus, Ruby, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been in a rotten mood all day.’

She sank to the floor, her face buried in her hands. Now the tears had started, she couldn’t stop them.

She heard Nick cross the room and crouch down beside her, then his arms came round her shuddering shoulders.

‘Ruby, what is it? What’s the matter?’ he soothed.

‘I – I’m not pregnant!’

Nick sighed. ‘Is that all? Blimey, I thought it was something serious!’

‘It
is
serious.’ She had been bitterly disappointed when her monthlies arrived that morning. Especially as they had been late. For the past three days she had nursed the secret, allowing herself to hope, only for it all to come crashing cruelly down.

‘Come here, you daft thing.’ Nick pulled her closer. ‘So what if you didn’t get pregnant straight away? We’ve got plenty of time, ain’t we?’

Have we? Ruby thought, resting her head against the broad wall of his chest. With every month that went by, it felt as if her time was running out. If she didn’t get pregnant soon, she was going to lose Nick. She was sure of it.

‘What if it doesn’t happen?’ she whispered.

‘Why shouldn’t it happen? You got pregnant easily enough first time round, didn’t you? A bit too easily, some might say!’ His hand smoothed her hair, rocking her like a baby. ‘It’s just taking a bit longer this time, that’s all. But you can’t hurry these things. You’ve got to let nature take its course.’

And what if it doesn’t? She couldn’t help wondering if this was a punishment for all the lies she’d told. What if she turned out to be one of those women who could never have kids? She didn’t know how she would explain that to Nick.

She sagged against him, all the fight gone out of her. She didn’t want to explain any more. She was sick and tired of making up lies, watching every word that came out of her mouth in case she accidentally gave herself away.

‘Cheer up,’ Nick’s arms tightened around her. ‘We’ll just have to keep trying, won’t we?’

She looked up at him, tears drying on her cheeks. ‘Do you mean that? You’re not going to leave me?’

The look in his eyes was unreadable. ‘We’re married, ain’t we? Till death do us part, and all that.’

Before she could reply, there was a loud knock on the front door.

Nick looked up sharply. ‘Who’s that, I wonder?’

‘Ignore them,’ Ruby clung to him, needing the reassurance of his arms around her. ‘They’ll go away.’

The knock sounded again, louder this time.

‘Doesn’t look like they’re going away, does it? I’d better answer it.’ Nick released her and got to his feet.

Ruby was scraping the remains of the beef joint off the floor when she heard Nick’s voice raised in anger.

‘Look, mate, I dunno who you are, but you’ve got the wrong house. We don’t owe anything to anyone.’

‘I think you do, Mr Riley.’ Bert Wallis’ voice, nasal and insinuating, drifted down the passageway. ‘Now if I could just have a word with your missus—’

‘You ain’t having a word with anyone. Now clear off!’

Ruby’s head shot up, panic surging through her. It was Sunday, she’d thought she was safe from the tallyman. But Bert Wallis must have got wise to her and decided to catch her unawares.

She pressed herself against the kitchen door, her heart fluttering, looking for a way to escape. But there was no way out.