The Nightingale Nurses Read online

  ‘It’s not like me.’ The words came out in a rush. ‘I’m not that sort of bloke, honestly. I would never have done something like that if you hadn’t pushed me into it—’

  Dora faced him. ‘Are you saying I asked to be attacked?’

  ‘No, no, of course not.’ A blush swept up his face. ‘I’m not saying that. I was just so jealous when I saw you with him . . .’

  ‘You had no right to get angry. I’m not your property.’

  His chin lifted and she caught a glint in his eyes, shadowed by the brim of his helmet. ‘You’re my girl.’

  ‘No, I’m not. I never was. That’s what I kept trying to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen to me.’

  Joe flinched as if she’d slapped him hard around the face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled.

  As they crossed the street he went to take her arm and then thought better of it.

  ‘Can we start again?’ he said. ‘I’m truly sorry about what happened, Dora. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for another chance to prove how much I love you.’

  Dora suppressed a sigh. ‘No, Joe.’

  ‘Just because of one night?’ There was a sudden, sharp edge to his voice.

  ‘Not just because of that night.’ Dora paused for a moment, searching for the right words. Whatever she said, he chose not to understand her. She had no option but to be blunt, no matter how cruel it might seem. ‘Look, Joe, I don’t want to see you again.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’ He stared at her blankly. ‘I love you. I want us to be together.’

  ‘But I don’t.’

  He seemed genuinely confused, as if such a thought had never occurred to him. ‘I can make you happy . . .’

  ‘You can’t, Joe. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.’

  He looked hurt, like a lost little boy. ‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’

  ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘Why can’t you just accept that I just don’t want to be with you?’

  He was silent for a moment. She could see rage like thunderclouds rolling in, darkening his face. Her eyes darted around, looking for places to run.

  ‘You’re confused,’ he said finally. ‘It’s because of the other night, I’m sure of it. But if you just give me another chance—’

  ‘For God’s sake, Joe, how many more times do I have to spell it out?’ She stopped talking for a moment. ‘Did you hear that?’

  ‘What?’ Joe sounded sulky.

  ‘That noise. It sounded like someone crying out.’

  ‘It’s probably just someone mucking about.’ No sooner had he said it than a scream tore through the air.

  ‘That doesn’t sound like mucking about to me.’ Dora lifted her face and began turning slowly to pick up the sound. ‘It came from over there, I think. Near the railway arches.’

  ‘Dora, wait!’ She heard Joe calling to her as she sprinted in the direction of the sound. A second later he was running too, his footsteps pounding behind her, catching her easily.

  She turned the corner and froze. At the other end of the street a gang of men, illuminated by a pool of lamplight, were kicking at something on the ground.

  ‘Dora, don’t!’ Joe snatched at her sleeve but she shook him off and ran towards them.

  ‘Oi! What do you think you’re doing?’

  They stopped for a moment, all turning towards her, five figures silhouetted against the lamplight. Then they took off and disappeared into the railway arches.

  Dora stopped and bent double, fighting for breath. ‘They went that way,’ she panted to Joe, pointing up the street. ‘If you go after them, you’ll corner them under the arches.’

  He didn’t move. ‘Joe?’ She frowned at him. ‘Did you hear what I said? Go after them.’

  ‘It’s too late, they’re long gone.’

  ‘But there’s no way out through . . .’ she started to say. He was already walking towards the bundle on the ground. She watched as Joe bent down, put out a hand towards it, then stood straight up again.

  ‘Find a telephone box and call an ambulance,’ he ordered, fighting to keep his voice level.

  ‘Why, what is it?’ She took a step towards him, but he put his hand out, barring her way.

  ‘Just go and call that ambulance, Dora. Please?’

  The bundle moved slightly and she realised it was actually a person, cowering and covered in blood. Dora’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, God! No!’

  She tried to push past his restraining arm, but Joe held her back. ‘You don’t want to look, it’s too nasty.’

  ‘But you don’t understand,’ Dora said, fighting to get past. ‘I know her. It’s Esther Gold!’

  Dora barely recognised the bloody pulp of a face, hidden under a carapace of clotted blood. Ugly purplish swelling had distorted Esther’s eyes to slits. Her swollen mouth hung open limply, revealing bloody gaps where her teeth had been smashed. Her hair was matted and stuck to her face by blood.

  ‘Is she . . . dead?’ Joe whispered.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Dora held her breath, then released it when she felt the feeble jump of a pulse under her fingers. ‘No, she’s alive, thank God. But her pulse is very weak, and her respiration is shallow. She’s in a very bad way.’ Dora took charge then. ‘Go down to that pub up on the corner and see if they’ve got any brandy and blankets. Get them to call for the ambulance.’

  She sat alone in the middle of the empty street, cradling Esther’s head in her lap. Dora took out her handkerchief and tried to clean off some of the blood that caked the wounded woman’s face, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t manage it.

  She saw the lights go on in the pub on the corner, and shortly afterwards Joe came running back up the street with his arms full of blankets.

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘Hanging on, just about.’ Dora took the blankets from him and tucked them around Esther’s body as best she could. Esther had gone very still, her breathing ominously shallow. Dora could hardly bring herself to look at her. ‘Did you telephone for an ambulance?’

  ‘The landlord’s doing it now.’ He looked down at Esther. ‘Should we try to get her to the pub, keep her warm?’

  Dora shook her head. ‘Best not to move her, we don’t know how bad her injuries are.’ She lifted her gaze to meet Joe’s. ‘Why didn’t you go after those men?’

  ‘I couldn’t catch them.’

  ‘But you didn’t even try.’ She saw his grim expression and realisation dawned. ‘You let them go,’ she said with disbelief.

  Joe’s jaw clenched. ‘We’ve got our orders.’

  ‘What orders?’ Dora said scornfully. ‘To turn a blind eye? To let thugs walk the streets?’

  ‘If we went round arresting every troublemaking Blackshirt, the cells would be full by the end of the night.’

  ‘So what? That’s your job, isn’t it? To protect the rest of us from scum like that?’

  ‘I told you, we’ve got our orders,’ Joe insisted stubbornly. ‘I don’t make the rules, do I?’

  ‘No, but you’re happy enough to carry them out!’

  Dora looked down at Esther’s bloody, ravaged face. Her shallow breath was gurgling in her throat.

  The ambulance came hurtling round the corner, bell ringing. As the driver got out and ran round to the back to throw open the doors, Dora turned to Joe.

  ‘I’m going with her.’

  ‘We’ll both go.’

  Dora shook her head. ‘I don’t want you to come.’

  ‘But I’m a policeman. I should be there . . .’

  ‘No, Joe, what you should be doing is looking for the swine who did this to Esther.’ Dora stood back, brushing down her dress as the ambulance men set to work lifting Esther’s limp body on to the stretcher.

  ‘Don’t you blame me for this!’ she heard Joe’s voice calling after her as she followed them towards the ambulance.

  Dora looked back at him. ‘Why shouldn’t I blame you?’ she said. ‘From where I’m standing, you’re every bit as
guilty as those Blackshirt thugs!’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‘STILL NO CHANGE, Nurse?’

  Dora read the despair in Dr Adler’s face. There were deep grooves around his mouth, and dark shadows under his eyes. It was hard to believe this was the same man whose booming laughter could so often be heard around the Casualty department. He had aged ten years since Esther Gold had been admitted to a private room off the Female Medical ward.

  Dora felt as if she had aged, too. She hadn’t been able to sleep all night, and in the morning she was almost too afraid to face the night nurse’s ward report, convinced that it would be bad news.

  ‘No, Doctor. I’m sorry.’

  ‘At least you’re here to keep an eye on her.’ Dr Adler’s smile was strained. ‘It’s a blessing she was sent to your new ward, isn’t it, Nurse Doyle?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘It will mean a lot to Esther to see a familiar face when she wakes up,’ he said bracingly.

  If she wakes up. Dora read the unspoken message in his bleak eyes.

  Dr Adler consulted the pulse and respiration Dora had carefully noted on Esther’s chart, then put his finger to the artery in her neck, as if to reassure himself she was still alive. Her breath was shallow and her face, where it wasn’t distended and purple, was the colour of marble.

  It wasn’t just her face, either. Under her starched hospital gown her body was a mass of bruises where she had been kicked and punched.

  ‘So all we can do now is wait,’ Dr Adler said. ‘We won’t know the extent of the damage until she regains consciousness . . .’ The catch in his voice betrayed him. He took a deep, steadying breath and thrust Esther’s chart back into Dora’s hands. ‘Keep a close eye on her,’ he said. ‘And I want you to send for me the moment she wakes up. Immediately, Nurse. Do you understand?’

  Dora nodded. ‘Yes, Doctor.’

  He gave her a weary smile. ‘I know she’s in good hands, Nurse Doyle.’

  As he left, Dora said, ‘Excuse me, Doctor? I just wondered . . . has anyone spoken to her father?’

  Dr Adler nodded, his expression grave. ‘The police have been to visit him, I believe.’

  Dora looked away so he wouldn’t see the disgust on her face. The police hadn’t done enough for Esther. ‘Poor man,’ she said. ‘Esther is all he has.’

  ‘I know,’ Dr Adler said heavily. ‘I’ll go and see him later. Hopefully by then we’ll have some good news.’

  But from the look on his face Dora could tell he didn’t expect it any more than she did.

  It was a long day. As she went about her work, Dora kept her eyes fixed on Esther’s door, constantly alert for any sign of panic, of screens being hastily pulled around her bed, anything to show that she had taken a turn for the worse.

  When she wasn’t kept away with other jobs, Dora attended to Esther constantly: taking her temperature, checking her pulse, refilling her hot water bottles or just holding her hand.

  Sister Everett caught her watching over the patient shortly after Dora had been sent for her break.

  ‘Aren’t you supposed to be off duty until five?’

  ‘Yes, Sister. Sorry, Sister. I just wanted to make sure Miss Gold was all right . . .’

  Sister Everett’s brows rose. ‘I assure you she will be in perfectly good hands until you return, Nurse Doyle.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Sister.’ Dora lowered her gaze.

  ‘It’s quite all right, Doyle, I understand she is a friend of yours. It’s only natural for you to be concerned about her.’ Sister consulted the chart. ‘She has been unconscious for some hours, I see?’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’

  ‘But at least her pulse and respiration are steady, if weak.’ Sister Everett replaced the chart. ‘You know, it may be a good sign that she hasn’t woken up yet,’ she said. ‘The body sometimes needs to conserve all its energy to repair and recover.’

  ‘I hope so, Sister.’ Dora rubbed eyes that felt gritty from lack of sleep.

  ‘Talking of recovering, I suggest you rest now,’ Sister Everett said. ‘You will be no use to anyone, least of all your friend Miss Gold, if you’re half asleep.’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’

  ‘Have something to eat, then go back to the nurses’ home, wash and change into a clean uniform. It will make you feel much fresher.’

  ‘Thank you, Sister.’

  Dora obeyed Sister Everett, and returned to the nurses’ home. She moved slowly, her limbs heavy, aching for sleep. But as soon as she lay down on her bed all trace of tiredness vanished. She could feel every lump in the horsehair mattress under her spine as she stared at the ceiling, waiting for five o’clock to come round.

  It was just striking the hour when Dora hurried back to Everett ward. She held her breath as she turned down the passage towards the double doors, then released it in a sigh of relief when she saw Esther’s door was still half-open.

  A figure in brown overalls was sitting at her bedside.

  ‘Pete?’ Her brother jumped guiltily to his feet. ‘You know you’re not supposed to be up here. What are you doing?’

  He glanced down at Esther. ‘I heard she’d been brought in. How is she?’

  Dora frowned. ‘Not good.’

  ‘But she’ll get better, won’t she?’

  ‘I don’t know. We’re not sure whether she’ll wake up, or what state she’ll be in if she does. A blow to the head like that can do all kinds of damage. She might be paralysed, lose her sight or hearing . . . Pete?’ She stared at her brother. He had sunk down on to the chair beside Esther’s bed, his face buried in his hands. ‘Are you crying? Why are you so upset? You hardly know her—’

  Realisation hit Dora. She tasted bile rising in her throat and covered her mouth. ‘Oh, God, no! Pete, please tell me it wasn’t you—’

  ‘No!’ His face was pale under his shock of ginger hair. ‘I never laid a finger on her, I swear.’

  ‘But you know who did?’ Dora watched him mopping his eyes with the sleeve of his brown overall. Her insides turned to ice. ‘You were there, weren’t you? When those men set about her?’ She looked down at Esther’s heavily bandaged face. ‘You . . . you stood by and watched them do that to her.’

  ‘There was nothing I could do!’ Peter whined. ‘I didn’t know what they were going to do, did I? I thought they were just going to push her around a bit, have a bit of fun. But then she started fighting back, and they didn’t like that, so . . .’ He shuddered.

  ‘Why didn’t you help her?’

  ‘I tried. I was trying to pull them off when you and Joe arrived, and they all scarpered. You’ve got to believe me,’ he pleaded. ‘I did my best.’

  ‘Yeah, you were a right hero,’ Dora said coldly. Her heart felt like stone in her chest. She looked at Peter, snivelling with tears of self-pity. She hadn’t thought it was possible to hate her own brother, but he didn’t feel like her flesh and blood any more. He was a vicious stranger, turned feral by hate.

  ‘You don’t know what they’re like. Dora, please, you’ve got to understand. I didn’t mean this to happen . . .’ He reached out to her, but she snatched her hand away.

  ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘Don’t you dare touch me.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know you any more, Peter Doyle.’

  He stared at her, stricken faced. ‘Don’t say that! I’m still your brother—’

  ‘My brother wouldn’t have stood by and watched an innocent woman nearly killed by a bunch of thugs. But you’re one of them now, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m not!’

  ‘You wear that uniform, don’t you? You go to their meetings, pass around their pamphlets on the street, help spread their filth . . .’

  ‘I thought I was doing some good!’

  ‘Good?’ Dora lunged forward and grabbed his hair, yanking his head up. ‘Look at the good you and your mates have done. Go on, take a look at her!’ He struggled to free himself but she held him fast. ‘I want you to remember her face, Peter Doyle. I want it to hau
nt you every bloody day of your life. And next time you and your pals are strutting around in your black shirts, I want you to see her staring back at you!’

  ‘Stop it!’ Peter jerked himself out of her grasp. ‘Do you think I don’t know what I’ve done? It was all right at first, but some of the things they say and do – it turns my stomach, Dora, I swear!’

  ‘Then go to the police. Turn them in for what they did.’

  Peter shook his head. ‘I can’t.’ He looked up at her with fear-filled eyes. ‘You don’t know them, Dora. You don’t just hand in your uniform and walk away. And you certainly don’t rat on them. Once you’re in with them, that’s it. There’s no getting out.’

  She stared at him in contempt. ‘You’re frightened they’ll come after you?’

  ‘Not me.’ He lifted his eyes to look at Esther. ‘You’ve seen what they can do. What if it was Lily or Mum lying there?’

  ‘They wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘Wouldn’t they? You don’t know them, Dora. The last time I tried to stand up to them . . . it was when they were planning to set fire to a shop. I told them I wanted no part of it, that I’d had enough. Two days later, a couple of blokes followed Bea home from school. Our little sister, Dor!’ He knotted his hands together to stop them from shaking. ‘They frightened her. Got her up against the wall and said they were going to do all kinds to her. Mum says she hasn’t been able to sleep since.’ He glanced at Esther. ‘I’m sorry this has happened, I really am. But I’ve got to protect our family.’

  Dora looked at his hopeless, desperate expression, and for the first time felt a twinge of compassion for her brother. In his own way he was trying to protect their family, just as she would. ‘But surely if you told the police, they could do something . . .’

  ‘The police?’ Peter laughed harshly. ‘What good would they do? They’ve been told to give them a wide berth, just like everyone else.’

  Dora remembered what Joe had said. They had orders to turn a blind eye. No wonder the Blackshirts thought they could do as they liked.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing I can do,’ he said. ‘I’m in this up to my neck, Dora. I have to go along with them, whether I like it or not.’