The Nightingale Sisters Read online

  There was no reply, so she quietly let herself in.

  The room was small, cramped, and stank of mildew and liniment. Violet Tanner had turned it into a sick room, rigging up a makeshift screen around one of the beds. Kathleen barely recognised the usually composed Night Sister in the woman who sat sponging the face of a feverish small boy.

  ‘Hello, Miss Tanner,’ she greeted her. ‘Or is it Mrs Gifford?’

  ‘Matron?’ Her ravaged face barely registered shock. Kathleen saw at once that she was utterly exhausted. Her skin was the colour of putty, except for two dark circles like bruises around her eyes. Strands of hair escaped from an untidily fastened bun.

  Kathleen didn’t bother to ask for an explanation. All her professional attention was immediately fixed on the child.

  ‘How long has he been like this?’ she asked, slipping off her coat and rolling up her sleeves.

  ‘A few days. He usually gets a bout of bronchitis every winter, but this time it’s much worse.’ Violet gently pressed the sponge to his sweating forehead. The boy twitched away from her, his eyes closed, lips moving in a stream of delirious chatter that neither of them could hear.

  ‘I thought he was improving. His temperature went down for a while, but now it’s increased again. I’ve been giving him steam inhalations and linseed poultices.’ Violet’s voice was shrill with worry. ‘I’ve had the doctor in twice, but he just told me I was being over-anxious.’

  Then the doctor is a fool, Kathleen thought. She put her hand on the child’s chest. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his sternum drawing in with effort on every breath. There was a tinge of blue around his lips.

  ‘And what do you think?’ she asked.

  Violet looked down at the child. ‘I think he needs to be in hospital.’

  ‘I agree.’ Kathleen reached for her coat. ‘Where is the nearest telephone box?’

  ‘On the corner.’

  ‘I’ll go and call for an ambulance. You stay here with your son. He is your son, I take it?’

  Violet bit her lip and nodded. ‘Oliver,’ she said. ‘His name is Oliver.’

  Violet was too exhausted to lie any more. Too exhausted and far, far too afraid.

  She was glad Miss Fox was there to take charge. She organised the ambulance, then helped Violet pack up some things for herself and Oliver. It felt such a relief to have someone else to share the burden.

  They travelled together in the ambulance with Oliver. Violet clutched his little hand in hers and tried to shut her mind to all the nameless terrors that threatened to overwhelm her.

  She should have called the ambulance, she told herself over and over again. She knew Oliver was ill, but she had allowed herself to be persuaded by that arrogant doctor instead of trusting her own instincts. If her son died, it would be her fault. Her fault for making him live like this, for not providing for him properly.

  If he died, it would be her punishment for all the terrible mistakes she’d made in her life.

  Miss Fox seemed to read her thoughts. ‘It will be all right,’ she said softly. ‘He’s in safe hands now.’

  Her voice was calm and reassuring, but Violet had used that tone herself on too many patients’ families to be fooled by it.

  At the hospital, she followed matron, moving like a ghost through the corridors she knew so well, but which suddenly seemed strange and terrifying to her. Even the nurses in their crisp uniforms looked like beings from another world.

  On the Children’s ward, Sister Parry frowned at the sight of Matron, dressed in her coat and hat and not her uniform. She didn’t recognise Violet at first. She tried to hustle her out into the parents’ room until Matron intervened.

  ‘I think we can allow Miss Tanner to stay, under the circumstances, Sister,’ she said.

  Sister Parry frowned at her in confusion. ‘Miss Tanner?’ Recognition dawned on her face. ‘Sister? But I don’t understand – what are you doing here?’

  Once again, Miss Fox answered for her. ‘There will be plenty of time for questions later, Sister. The first thing we must do is to get this young man well again.’ She smiled down at Oliver as the porter lifted him on to the bed that had been made up for him. ‘Now, we will need to get an inhalation tent set up. Has the consultant been informed?’

  ‘He’s in surgery. But the registrar is on his way, Matron.’

  ‘Very well. I will arrange to have a word with Mr Joyce when he comes out of theatre. I would like his opinion.’

  Violet was allowed to stay on the ward until Oliver was settled, and the registrar had arrived. She wanted to stay with him then, but Miss Fox took her arm and steered her gently out of the ward.

  ‘He’ll be all right for a few minutes,’ she said. ‘You and I need to have a talk.’

  She took Violet to her office, a book-lined study full of heavy, dark furniture. Kathleen sat her down in one of the leather armchairs on either side of the fireplace, and ordered some tea. Violet stared into the crackling flames, grateful that she didn’t have to think at all. She had been galvanised by fear and terror for so long, she hadn’t realised how utterly exhausted she was. Embraced by the fire’s welcome warmth, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep.

  The maid brought in a tray of tea. Miss Fox poured it, put a cup into Violet’s hands and then sat back.

  Violet understood she was waiting for an explanation. She took a deep breath. ‘It’s not what you think,’ she began. ‘I am – I was – married. I’ve been a widow for five years. Tanner is my maiden name.’

  ‘I see.’ Miss Fox considered this for a moment. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a child?’

  ‘Would you have given me the job if you’d known?’

  Miss Fox met her gaze steadily. Out of her severe black uniform she seemed so much younger and more human. Wavy chestnut hair softened her face, but her grey eyes were as direct and challenging as ever.

  ‘Probably not,’ she conceded, and set down her cup. ‘But it can’t have been easy for you, living this curious double life. How have you managed to look after your son?’

  ‘I’ve managed.’ Violet’s chin tilted, sensing criticism. ‘My landlady Mrs Bainbridge keeps an eye on Oliver while I’m working here. And working nights means I can be with him during the day.’

  ‘All the same, I’m surprised you chose to live in such a place. That appalling damp room can’t have been good for your son’s chest.’

  ‘I didn’t have much choice!’ Violet felt her frustration flaring. ‘Don’t you think I’ve tried to find somewhere better to live? But people don’t like to rent rooms to mothers without husbands. It’s not respectable, you see.’

  ‘I suppose it doesn’t help that you wear no ring?’

  ‘I do sometimes. But it’s only a cheap secondhand one so no one believes it.’ Violet looked down at her bare hand. ‘I sold my real wedding ring,’ she said quietly.

  She heard Miss Fox sigh. ‘Please don’t think I’m criticising you, Violet,’ she said. ‘On the contrary, I admire you for coping so well. As I said, it can’t have been easy for you.’

  Her gentle sympathy thawed Violet’s defences. ‘It was easier when I was caring for a private patient,’ she admitted. ‘We lived in, so I was able to look after Oliver while I was nursing.’

  ‘I wonder you didn’t look for a similar job after you left?’

  Violet managed a small smile. ‘Not every invalid wants a child around the place. I was very fortunate to find an employer like Mr Mannion.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Miss Fox sipped her tea thoughtfully. Then she said, ‘Well, obviously this situation cannot continue.’

  Violet took a deep, steadying breath. She had expected it, but it was still a blow.

  ‘I understand.’ She put down her cup and stood up. ‘Would you like me to work out my notice, or would you prefer it if I left immediately?’

  Miss Fox stared up at her. ‘Who said anything about your leaving?’

  ‘But I assumed—’

  ‘I was
referring to your living arrangements. You can’t stay in that awful place. And you can’t go on leaving your son night after night to the tender mercies of that landlady. I only met her briefly, but I have to say, I wouldn’t trust her to take care of a cat!’ She had a down-to-earth northern edge to her voice that Violet had never noticed before. It made her seem warm and approachable.

  ‘Actually, Matron, the only creature Mrs Bainbridge has any time for is her cat,’ she said.

  Miss Fox smiled. ‘That doesn’t surprise me at all.’ She waved Violet back into her seat. ‘I know you’ve done your best, but that house is riddled with damp and no good at all for your son’s health. Which is why you must come and live here.’

  Violet stared at her. For a moment she wondered if she’d heard her correctly. ‘Here, Matron?’

  ‘Why not? There is plenty of room in the sisters’ block for you and Oliver. Although it might be better if you had somewhere bigger, so he could have a room of his own. I know . . .’ Her grey eyes brightened. ‘You could have my flat.’

  Violet’s mouth fell open. ‘I couldn’t do that!’

  ‘Why not? It’s far too big for one person anyway. I’d be perfectly happy in a smaller set of rooms.’ She smiled. ‘It seems like the perfect solution, don’t you agree?’

  Violet was certain she must be going mad. Or perhaps she had fallen asleep and this was all a dream? ‘You can’t do that,’ she whispered.

  ‘Mrs Tanner, I am Matron here. I can do as I please.’ There was a hint of amusement in her eyes. ‘So what do you think?’

  Violet felt herself smiling reluctantly, but still she didn’t dare allow herself to hope.

  ‘What about the other sisters?’ she asked.

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘They might not like the idea of Oliver and me moving in.’

  ‘I’m sure most of them will find it perfectly acceptable.’

  ‘And the ones who don’t?’

  Miss Fox gave her an imperious smile. Suddenly she seemed every inch the Matron. ‘Leave them to me.’

  She stood up. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘I’m sure the registrar will have finished examining your son, so we should go up and see what he has to say. I suggest you move your things into the Night Sister’s room for now, until we can sort out something more permanent.’

  ‘Yes, Matron.’ Violet stood for a moment, at a loss for words. It took all the restraint she could summon up for her not to throw herself into Miss Fox’s arms in sheer gratitude. But instead, she managed a quiet, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘That’s quite all right.’ She was almost at the door before Miss Fox called her back. ‘Mrs Tanner?’

  She turned. ‘Yes, Matron?’

  ‘You don’t have any other secrets you’re not telling me, do you?’

  Violet paused. All kinds of thoughts chased one another through her mind, but she cut them off. ‘No, Matron,’ she said.

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE MEANS TEST man was small and wiry, with a pencil moustache and slicked-back hair that smelled of brilliantine. Dora and her family watched helplessly as he walked around their home, his clipboard under his arm, peering into drawers and cupboards.

  ‘Look at him, poking his nose in as if he owned the place!’ Nanna hissed furiously.

  ‘But I don’t understand. Why is he writing everything down?’ Bea asked.

  ‘He’s working out what can be sold.’ Dora fought to keep the emotion out of her voice. ‘We’re allowed to keep what we need, but everything else has to go.’

  ‘He’s stripping us bare, that’s what he’s doing. I dunno how he can sleep at night, doing this to decent people,’ Nanna said, loud enough for the man to hear.

  ‘Shh, Mum. He’s only doing his job,’ Rose replied under her breath.

  ‘Your daughter’s right, Missus. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t applied for Public Assistance, would I?’ He pointed his pencil at Nanna’s rocking chair. ‘That should fetch a few quid.’

  ‘Not my chair!’ Nanna stood in front of it. ‘You can’t take that. It’s been in my family for years. My mum used to sit in it, and her mum before her.’

  The man shrugged. ‘You’ve got other chairs. I’m leaving you enough furniture for your basic needs. That’s the rules, I don’t make ’em up.’

  ‘Yes, but you enjoy carrying ’em out, don’t you?’ Nanna glared at him.

  Dora heard a whimper, and looked around. Her mother was holding herself rigid, but tears were running down her ashen cheeks.

  ‘This is all my fault,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so sorry, kids. I’ve let you all down.’

  Josie put her arms around her mother. ‘Don’t, Mum. You haven’t let us down.’

  ‘’Look at us. Look what we’ve sunk to. Having to sell off all our possessions just so we can pay the rent.’ She dashed tears away with her sleeve. ‘We wouldn’t be in this position if your dad was here. And it must be my fault he’s gone, mustn’t it? I did something to drive him away, I must have done.’

  ‘Oh, Mum.’ Dora wrapped her arms around them both. ‘It’ll be all right, honest. We’ll get back on our feet soon.’

  Nanna twitched back the net curtain and peered outside. ‘At least the neighbours are enjoying it,’ she commented grimly. ‘Look at ’em out there, gawping over their fences. I’m surprised Lettie Pike isn’t putting out the flags.’

  Next door, Lettie Pike already had a grandstand view out of the upstairs window.

  ‘He’s been in there a long time, hasn’t he? Honestly, you wouldn’t think they’d have that much stuff, would you?’ She twitched with excitement.

  ‘Enjoying it, are you?’ Nick sat at the kitchen table, his thumb tracing a scratch in the wood so he wouldn’t have to look at Lettie’s gleeful face. Any minute now he would pick her up and throw her out of that wretched window.

  ‘Come away, Mum, for gawd’s sake.’ Ruby shot him a wary look. ‘Ain’t you got nothing better to do on a Saturday morning than spy on the neighbours?’

  Her mother ignored her, her nose still glued to the glass. ‘Ooh, look, the Means Test bloke’s come out now . . . He’s calling to those other two in the van . . . They’ll be moving the furniture out in a minute, I expect!’

  She let the curtain drop and went to put on her coat. ‘Where are you going?’ Nick asked.

  ‘Downstairs, of course. I’m not going to miss this, am I?’ She looked at Ruby. ‘Are you coming, or what?’

  Ruby glanced at Nick. ‘No,’ she said, hesitating just a fraction too long for his liking. ‘What do you think I am? Dora’s my mate. And you didn’t ought to go either,’ she added.

  ‘Why not? All the neighbours are out there. I’m not going to miss the chance to see the Doyles taken down a peg or two, am I?’ Lettie’s narrow face gleamed with relish.

  ‘What have they ever done to you?’ Nick asked.

  Lettie stared at him, lost for words. ‘That’s not the point,’ she snapped.

  The door slammed behind her, and Ruby turned to Nick. ‘Take no notice of her, she doesn’t mean any harm by it.’

  ‘Your mum’s a vicious old witch.’

  ‘I can’t argue with that.’ Ruby smiled. She came round to his side of the table and slid on to his lap, winding her arms around his neck.

  He jerked his head away. ‘Your mum’ll be back in a minute.’

  ‘Then we’d best make the most of it, hadn’t we?’ she purred, moving in for a long, lingering kiss.

  Nick breathed in the scent of eau de cologne in her blonde hair and felt his treacherous body respond instantly. Ruby was such a gorgeous girl, a man would have to be dead from the neck down not to be aroused by her. Every time he touched her he was lost, and every time he hated himself for it.

  He hadn’t meant to get so involved. She had made all the moves the first time, and every time since, but that was no excuse. He knew whenever he touched her he gave her false hope, and he cared for her too much to do that.

  ‘No.’ He pulled away from her k
iss, pinning down her hands.

  ‘Why not?’ Ruby looked hurt, her full lips pouting. ‘It’s been so long, Nick. Almost a week since we last . . . you know.’ She looked up at him coyly through her long, sweep-ing lashes. ‘Anyone would think you’ve gone off me?’

  Nick didn’t reply. He stood up, gently tipping her off his lap, and went over to the window.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re spying on the Doyles too?’ Ruby teased him. ‘Shame on you, Nick Riley. And after you had a go at my mum, too!’

  She tiptoed over to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around him. Nick ignored her, gazing down into the cobbled backyard. Two men were carrying furniture out of the Doyles’ house.

  ‘Look at them,’ he said. ‘They’re just old bits and pieces to them. They don’t realise what they’re doing, do they?’

  ‘Don’t watch if it upsets you so much.’ Her hands roved up his chest, unbuttoning his shirt.

  Nick’s body tensed when he saw Dora following the men out of the back door. He watched her turn to confront the neighbours, proud and utterly defiant. But her hand shook as it pushed back the red curls that were whipping across her face, and Nick could tell how much the fearless gesture was costing her.

  ‘We should be down there with her,’ he said.

  ‘Why?’ Ruby’s hands stopped moving.

  ‘Because she’s your mate.’

  ‘Dora’s a big girl,’ Ruby replied dismissively. ‘She can take care of herself.’

  Nick stared down at the solitary figure, standing in the yard.

  Not while I’m around, he thought.

  She didn’t blame the neighbours for staring. Most of them didn’t mean any harm by it, they were just curious. But Dora felt her anger flaring all the same as she faced them all on the other side of the low, broken fence. These people had known them for years. They were supposed to be their friends.

  ‘Seen enough, have you?’ she challenged as the men marched past her carrying a chest of drawers. ‘Don’t be shy, come a bit nearer . . . get a better view. You don’t want to miss anything, do you?’ She fixed her eyes on Mrs Peterson, who was hovering near the edge of the crowd. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you all bring your chairs out, make yourselves comfy? We could have a bit of a party. It’ll be just like the flaming Jubilee all over again!’