The Nightingale Nurses (45 page)

‘Joe!’ he heard Tom calling to him. ‘Come back! We’ve got to keep going.’

But Joe had already disappeared, clambering over the broken furniture strewn in his path, smashing his way through the crowd, oblivious to the missiles that whizzed past his ears.

‘Anna!’ Dora broke away from Nick, suddenly remembering why she’d come. She turned round, and heaved a sigh of relief. The little girl was still there, hiding in the doorway.

‘Thank God.’ She reached for the child’s hand. ‘I’ve got to take her back to her dad,’ she explained to Nick. ‘He’s worried sick about her.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘No, you should go.’

‘And leave you?’ He shook his head. ‘If you think I’m letting you out of my sight for a second, you’re wrong.’

He bent down and picked up a broken piece of chair leg.

‘What’s that for?’ Dora asked.

His mouth lifted at one corner. ‘Well, I ain’t going to sit on it, am I?’ he said, testing the weight of it in his hands.

‘I don’t want any rough stuff, Nick.’

He glanced around him. ‘Bit late for that, ain’t it?’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘It’s only for protection.’ He saw her expression and dropped the stick with a clatter. ‘All right, have it your way. I’ll just have to fight them off with my bare hands, won’t I?’

‘No one’s going to be fighting anyone,’ Dora said firmly. ‘We’re taking this little one back to her dad, and then we’re going to . . .’ Suddenly she caught a flash of dark blue and silver, running out of the crowd towards them. She saw Joe’s face, contorted with fury, arm raised above his head. ‘No!’

Nick turned round, and in that split second Joe struck. His arm came down with massive force, striking Nick a single blow between his shoulderblades.

‘Run, Dora!’ she heard Nick cry as Joe launched himself, raining down blow after blow.

‘Joe!’ she screamed out, but he was like a madman, demented by rage, bringing his fists down again and again.

‘Go Anna. Run to the baker’s shop.’

Dora released the little girl’s hand and ran back to Nick. ‘Leave him!’ She tried to drag Joe off, but he was too strong for her, and batted her off with a jerk of his arm.

She spotted the chair leg Nick had thrown down, and made a grab for it. Without stopping to think, she swung it with all her might at Joe. It caught him on the shoulder and sent him flying sideways where he lay, clutching his arm and howling in pain.

‘Nick!’ Dora dropped to Nick’s side. He lay silent on the pavement.

‘They’re turning back! The marchers are turning back!’ someone shouted. Within seconds the cry had been taken up all along Cable Street.

‘They shall not pass! We’ve done it! Down with Mosley and his fascist mob!’ People cheered, hugging each other and slapping each other’s backs.

But none of it meant anything to the girl who sat crying in the middle of the street, cradling a young man’s broken body in her arms.

DORA COULD HARDLY
bring herself to look at Nick as she busied herself arranging towels and blankets around him in the back of the ambulance.

‘Do I look that bad?’ he whispered hoarsely.

‘I’ve seen worse.’ She forced herself to smile. She had seen a lot worse – his face was almost untouched, just a graze across his cheekbone. But it was what was going on under his blood-stained shirt that worried her. ‘Your movie career might be finished, though.’

‘And my ballet career, I reckon.’ He tried to shift his weight, cursing at the pain.

‘Don’t try to move,’ Dora said.

‘I couldn’t if I tried.’ He shifted again, gritting his teeth against the pain. ‘I can hardly feel my legs . . .’

Dora glanced at her brother Peter, sitting beside her in the ambulance. His expression was grave.

‘Just keep still until we get you to hospital,’ she begged, reaching up to stroke a dark curl off Nick’s face. His skin felt clammy and cold.

She moved her hand down to his neck, searching for his pulse. It skipped lightly under her fingers, missed a few beats, then skipped again.

Nick’s eyes followed her every move. ‘I’m not dead, then?’

‘Not yet.’ She pulled the blankets up to his chin, tucking them around him.

‘That’s the last time I take on one of your jealous boyfriends. If he hadn’t jumped me from behind . . .’

‘Don’t.’ Dora shuddered. ‘Don’t talk about it.’ She couldn’t get the picture out of her head: Joe, his face contorted with rage, raining blows on Nick’s helpless body.

‘I wouldn’t worry about it, mate. Our Dora gave him what for!’ Peter grinned. ‘Set about him with an old chair leg, she did. He’s in one of the other ambulances now, nursing a broken shoulder!’

‘An old chair leg, eh?’ Nick turned his gaze towards her, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. ‘What happened to no rough stuff?’

‘I didn’t know what else to do. I thought he was going to kill you.’

Dora gulped in a breath to steady herself. But she couldn’t stop a single tear from escaping.

‘There now.’ Nick put his hand up, brushing it off her freckled cheek with his thumb. ‘You should know by now, you don’t get rid of me that easily,’ he whispered.

At the hospital, he was rushed straight into Casualty. Dora wanted to follow him, but Sister Percival blocked her way.

‘You can’t go through there, you should know that,’ she warned.

Dora craned her neck, watching as the door to the consulting room swung shut behind him. ‘I want to stay with him,’ she pleaded. ‘He needs me . . .’

‘Are you his next-of-kin?’

‘No, but—’

‘Then you need to give us their name and address.’ Sister Percival sent Dora a disapproving glance as she handed her a piece of paper. ‘And then, if I were you, I’d go and clean yourself up,’ she added, looking askance at the girl’s crumpled, blood-spattered dress. ‘And stay well away from him, if you know what’s good for you,’ she whispered.

But Dora didn’t know what was good for her. As soon as she had changed, she hurried back to the Casualty department. The rows of benches were filled with walking wounded from the protest; every time the double doors opened, more people came stumbling in, nursing bleeding faces and broken limbs.

Behind the counter, Penny Willard was taking names as quickly as patients arrived. Dora wondered where Joe might be. She hoped for everyone’s sake he had been taken to another hospital. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she came face to face with him again.

The double doors swung open and Ruby came in, followed by Lettie. Dora sat still as she strutted up to the counter, heels tapping. She saw Ruby talking to Penny Willard, then Penny pointed her pen in Dora’s direction.

Lettie turned around, her scowl deepening. She stamped over, Ruby following her.

‘What are you doing here?’ Lettie demanded.

‘Never mind that now!’ Ruby cut her off. ‘What happened?’ she asked Dora. ‘Why is Nick here?’

Dora licked her dry lips. ‘He was injured . . . a policeman set about him.’

Ruby stared at her, blank-faced. ‘What policeman? Where?’

‘On the protest.’

‘The protest?’ Ruby stopped for a moment, uncomprehending. ‘What was Nick doing on the protest?’

Dora lowered her gaze to the floor. ‘He came looking for me.’

‘So this is all your fault, then?’ The other girl’s voice was cold.

Dora nodded, her heart heavy with guilt. Ruby was right, there was nothing more she could say about it. If it hadn’t been for her, Nick would never have been in Cable Street, and none of this would have happened.

‘I knew it!’ Lettie spat. ‘You shouldn’t even be here. You’ve got no right. My Ruby’s his legal wife, you’re nothing to him!’

‘Leave it, Mum,’ Ruby said wearily, but Lettie was in full flow and there was no stopping her.

‘You should be ashamed of yourself, running after a married man! See what you’ve done? See what trouble you’ve caused?’

‘I said, leave it. I ain’t exactly been whiter than white myself, have I?’ Ruby snapped. She turned back to Dora. ‘How bad is he?’

‘I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything because I’m not family.’ She ignored Lettie’s grunt of disapproval. ‘But it’s not good. His back is damaged, and there’s a risk of internal bleeding, too. He was talking all right in the ambulance, but his pulse was weak so there’s a risk he might go into shock—’

Ruby took a deep breath. ‘So he might die, is that what you’re saying?’

‘I don’t know, Ruby. I wish I did.’

Neither of them spoke for a moment, then Lettie started up again, filling the silence. ‘None of this would have happened if you’d left him alone,’ she squawked. ‘He was happy with my Ruby—’

‘Go home, Mum,’ Ruby said, eyes still fixed on Dora.

‘What?’ Lettie’s eyes bulged in outrage. ‘Oh, no, I’m not going anywhere! If anyone’s leaving, it should be her!’ She jabbed an accusing finger at Dora.

‘Please, Mum. This ain’t helping anyone, is it?’ Ruby turned to her. ‘I’d rather wait by myself, if you don’t mind?’

Lettie pursed her lips. ‘All right then, I’ll go,’ she huffed. ‘But I won’t forget this,’ she added, shooting them both a warning look. ‘Of all the ungrateful . . . and after I gave up my Sunday afternoon to traipse all the way over here!’ They heard her grumbling all the way across the waiting room, until the doors finally closed behind her.

Ruby’s mouth twisted. ‘Anyone would think she’d come from the North Pole!’

‘She’s right, though. I should go.’ Dora got to her feet, but Ruby stopped her.

‘Don’t think you’re leaving me here by myself,’ she said. ‘We’re sitting this out together, you and me.’

Dora read the unspoken message in her blue eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

‘It ain’t a question of thanking me,’ Ruby said, sitting down next to her. ‘Truth is, I’ve never liked hospitals.’ She shuddered. ‘And besides, you know your way round this place better than I do. And you know what to say to doctors. You’ve always been the clever one,’ she said, sending Dora a sidelong look.

‘And you’ve always been the pretty one!’ Dora smiled, remembering what they always used to say to each other when they were at school.

‘Much good it’s done me,’ Ruby sighed, looking down at the chipped scarlet polish on her fingernails. ‘Maybe if I’d been as clever as you I wouldn’t have got myself into this mess.’

Dora put her hand out. Ruby looked at it, then at Dora. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she reached for it.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

‘Me too,’ Dora said.

‘Still mates?’ Ruby gave her a shaky smile.

‘Always.’

They were both silent for a moment. Then Ruby said, ‘He’ll be all right, won’t he?’

Dora dragged in a deep breath. ‘I hope so.’

‘So what do we do now?’ Ruby asked.

Dora stared into her friend’s helpless face. There were so many times she had hated Ruby, but looking at her now she couldn’t feel anything but pity. All Ruby had done was try to fight for the man she loved, and Dora couldn’t blame her for that.

She squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘We wait,’ she said. ‘And hope. It’s all we can do, Rube.’

It was as if Fate didn’t want Helen to sit her State Finals.

First their train was delayed by a fallen tree on the line. Then, when they finally reached London, there was no taxi to be found anywhere.

‘We might as well give up, we’re never going to get all the way to Hampstead in time,’ Helen said as they stood on the pavement, scanning up and down the street.

‘We’ll get there,’ her mother said grimly. ‘I told you I’d see to it that you sat this examination, and I meant it. Even if we have to travel there on the back of a coal wagon.’

A mental picture of her mother perched on top of some sacks of coal, handbag clutched tightly on her lap, made Helen smile in spite of her nerves.

Finally they found a cab to take them to St Jude’s.

‘The patron saint of lost causes,’ Helen murmured, as her mother paid the driver. ‘How appropriate.’

‘Do be quiet, Helen,’ Constance snapped. ‘Go and get changed into your uniform while I get you registered.’

The clock was striking a quarter to eleven and sets of nurses, all in the uniforms of their various hospitals, were already filing into the examination room. Helen changed hurriedly in the nurses’ cloakroom, her hands shaking so much she could barely manage to fasten her collar stud.

Help me, Charlie, please, she prayed silently to her reflection in the mirror.

‘Dawson?’ She turned around. Brenda Bevan stood before her looking neat in her blue striped uniform. Helen’s knees buckled in relief at the sight of a friendly face. ‘Here, let me.’

‘Thank you.’ Helen lifted her chin for Brenda to fasten her collar stud.

‘Terrifying, isn’t it?’ Brenda said. ‘I didn’t sleep a wink last night.’

‘Me neither.’

‘Oh, well, it’s too late to turn back now, isn’t it?’ Brenda finished fastening her stud and stepped back. ‘I’m glad you decided to come,’ she said.

‘So am I,’ Helen replied.

As she walked up the wide green-painted passageway towards the examination room, Helen could already hear her mother’s voice raised in indignation at the far end.

‘What do you mean, she’s not registered?’ Constance stood at a table outside the doors to the room, berating the man who sat behind it. ‘Of course her name is on the list. Check it again.’

‘Is something wrong?’ Helen asked, coming up to join them.

The clerk looked up at her. ‘I’ve just been explaining to your mother, you can’t register for the examination because your name is not on my list of candidates.’

‘Then your list is wrong, isn’t it?’ Constance said, tight-lipped.

‘Perhaps the hospital didn’t put my name forward because they didn’t think I wanted to sit the exam?’ Helen suggested to her mother.

‘No, but I did. I telephoned the examination office last Thursday. Oh, don’t gawp at me like that, Helen,’ Constance dismissed her impatiently. ‘I knew you would see sense eventually.’

‘Oh, Mother!’ Helen laughed, too amused to be angry. What was the point? Constance Tremayne would never change.

Her mother turned back to the clerk. ‘There has obviously been some mistake,’ she said, in the voice she always used when she believed she was talking to a simpleton. ‘Let me speak to someone in authority.’