Nightingales on Call Read online

  ‘What did Ruby have to say for herself, then?’ she asked, as lightly as she could manage.

  ‘She says she’s met someone.’

  Dora sent Nick a quick glance. Was that why he was in such an odd mood? ‘Who is he?’

  ‘His name’s Eric. Got a proper office job in Poplar – insurance, I think she said. Ruby reckons he’s keen to marry her.’ Nick smiled thinly. ‘I think she was trying to make me jealous.’

  ‘And did she?’

  He looked up at her, a frown knotting his brows. ‘Of course not. How could you ask that?’

  Dora tried to smile. ‘Take no notice of me, I’m just being daft.’ But inside she still felt uneasy. Nick Riley was everything to her. She wanted to believe she was everything to him, too. But Ruby had taken him away from her once, and Dora was sure she could do it again if she set her mind to it.

  Ruby had had her pick of boyfriends while they were growing up next door to each other in Griffin Street, but she’d set her sights on the one boy Dora loved.

  By the time Dora realised how she felt about Nick, he and Ruby were already courting. When Nick tried to end it with her, Ruby announced she was pregnant. Shortly after their hasty wedding, she apparently suffered a miscarriage. Nick was heartbroken at the loss of his baby, until Ruby confessed to Dora that she had lied about being pregnant to make him marry her. When Nick found out later on how he’d been deceived, and that Dora had known about it, she had thought he’d never forgive her.

  The secrets and lies had almost torn them apart. All they wanted now was to be able to marry like any other young couple. But Ruby went on casting a shadow over their lives.

  ‘Anyway, it’s good news for us if she does want to get wed,’ Nick went on.

  ‘How do you work that out? We’ve still got to wait two years before you can divorce?’

  ‘Not necessarily.’

  Dora stared at him. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I’m saying Ruby is willing to be named in the divorce papers, on the grounds of her adultery.’

  ‘Never!’ Dora could barely speak for shock. No self-respecting girl would ever allow her name to be read out in court, letting everyone know she’d broken her marriage vows.

  ‘I told you she was keen to marry this bloke, didn’t I?’ Nick smiled at her. ‘If this all goes through, I could be free in six months. Just think, we could be married by Christmas. What do you say to that?’

  Dora was silent. The truth was, she didn’t know what to say. Of course she wanted to marry Nick, it was all she had ever wanted. But not if the cost was someone else’s good name.

  ‘We can’t.’ She shook her head. ‘It wouldn’t be fair on Ruby . . .’

  ‘Do you think she was fair when she lied and told me she was pregnant, to make me marry her?’ Nick snapped. ‘She didn’t give you or me a second thought then, did she? She’s the reason we’re all in this mess, so she should be the one to get us out.’

  ‘I know,’ Dora agreed. ‘But all the same it doesn’t seem right . . .’

  ‘It was Ruby’s idea,’ Nick reminded her. ‘She’s the one who’s pushing for it, not me. Says she’s willing to put her name on the papers and take the consequences.’

  ‘That sounds like Ruby.’ Her friend was so impulsive, she rarely thought about the results of her actions. That was why she’d lied to Nick about being pregnant in the first place.

  ‘Dora?’ Nick was frowning at her, hurt in his blue eyes. ‘I thought you’d be pleased?’

  ‘I am,’ Dora said. ‘Of course I am. You know I want to marry you, more than anything. But—’

  ‘What?’ Nick prompted her.

  ‘Surely it’s only fair if we were the ones named in court, not Ruby?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not a chance! I’m not having your name dragged through the mud,’ he said firmly. ‘You just said yourself, if Matron found out about us you’d be sacked. How do you reckon she’d feel about one of her students being named in a divorce case?’

  ‘Yes, but it wouldn’t really matter,’ Dora reasoned. ‘I’ll have to give up nursing anyway, once we’re married.’

  ‘But that won’t be until after you finish your training. You’ve worked so hard to get this far, Dora, and you’ve only got six months to go. I don’t want you to give that up for my sake.’

  ‘But it still doesn’t seem right,’ she reasoned. ‘After all, you left her for me—’

  ‘Now you listen to me.’ Nick grasped her arms, turning her to face him. ‘You’re not to blame for any of this. You and I would have been married a long time ago if it hadn’t been for Ruby’s lies. And besides,’ he added, ‘we haven’t committed adultery, have we?’

  Dora felt the blush rising in her face. That was true. Much to her frustration, Nick was absolutely determined to wait until their wedding.

  ‘We could change all that?’ she said softly.

  His dark brows lifted. ‘Dora Doyle! What are you suggesting?’

  ‘You know.’ She looked up into his eyes and felt a delicious tingle of anticipation building up inside her.

  She let her gaze linger on the curve of his lips as she always did, enjoying the thrill of expectation moments before his mouth came down on hers. She had dreamed of kissing Nick so many times in the past, but nothing she imagined could ever be as wonderful as this feeling. Warmth spread through her body, turning her insides to liquid, and she pressed herself against him, compelled by a sudden, desperate need, as if she would melt into him completely if she could.

  But it was more than a physical need. Being in Nick’s arms and kissing him reassured her, made her feel safe. While she was there she could block out the feeling that this was all too good to be true, that one day something would happen to take him away from her again.

  And then, suddenly, a noise in the undergrowth behind them made Dora pull away from him.

  ‘Did you hear that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That noise. Down there, in the bushes.’

  ‘No.’ He started to pull her back towards him, but she heard it once more. A crackle in the dry grass, like a footstep.

  ‘There it is again. There’s someone watching us!’

  ‘A Peeping Tom, you mean? There’d better not be!’ Nick jumped to his feet and headed towards the scrubby undergrowth close to the bank. ‘Oi! Who’s there?’ His voice echoed across the stillness of the canal. He peered closer, pushing the bushes aside for a better look. ‘I can’t see anyone . . .’

  ‘Must have been my imagination, then,’ Dora said. She scrambled to her feet. ‘We’d best get back anyway.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Nick stood close to her, so she could feel the warmth of his body. ‘I was just about to let you have your wicked way with me.’

  ‘No, you weren’t,’ she smiled back. ‘You’ve got too much self control.’

  ‘I dunno about that. One of these days you might push me too far.’

  ‘We’d best go then, before I lose my honour!’

  Hand in hand, they started to walk up the bank, but something stopped Dora in her tracks.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Nick asked. ‘You’ve gone a bit pale.’

  ‘I dunno. I feel ever so funny.’ She stared back at the water and gave a shudder. ‘As if someone’s just walked over my grave.’

  ‘Maybe we should stay here after all?’ Nick gave a wry smile, his eyes alight with desire.

  Dora looked back at him, daring him. ‘Maybe we should.’

  Nick groaned. ‘You’re a wicked woman, Dora Doyle. First thing tomorrow morning I’m going down that solicitor’s office to make an appointment,’ he said. ‘The sooner we’re man and wife, the better!’

  ‘How is that new maid of yours turning out, Agatha?’

  Sister Sutton peered at her stitching as she considered the question. It was a sunny Thursday afternoon, and she was sitting in the garden of the students’ home with her old friends, Sister Tutor Florence Parker and Assistant Matron Veronica Hanley.

 
The three of them had been meeting on a Thursday to sew a patchwork quilt together for years, although very little sewing ever seemed to get done as they sipped tea, ate biscuits and chatted.

  ‘She seems very satisfactory,’ she said at last.

  Florence Parker peered over her spectacles. ‘Satisfactory, eh?’ she said. ‘That’s high praise indeed from you, Agatha.’

  Agatha Sutton frowned at her. Was Florence being sarcastic? It was always so difficult to tell. The sharpest comments seemed softened by that gentle Scottish lilt.

  ‘The girl is keen enough,’ she said. ‘But they’re all keen to start with, aren’t they? Only time will tell.’

  But she had to admit, Jess Jago had made a very promising start in the three weeks since she started at the home. She worked hard, was quick to learn, and didn’t try to cut corners hoping no one would notice. Agatha had even tried to catch her out a couple of times by deliberately leaving dust behind the curtains but each time it was swept clean when she went to check. Jess liked to do a good, thorough job, and Sister Sutton approved of that.

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ Miss Hanley commented, her eyes still fixed on the two patches of cotton she was stitching together. ‘You never know, perhaps this girl of yours could be promoted to assist you in running the home one day?’

  Agatha dropped her sewing into her lap. ‘Assist me?’ she said faintly. ‘What on earth do you mean, Veronica?’

  ‘Well, we’re none of us getting any younger, are we? The time might come when you’ll be grateful to leave some of the heavier work to someone else.’

  In spite of the warm spring afternoon, Agatha Sutton suddenly felt cold all over. ‘Are you saying I can’t manage?’ she said. ‘Are you implying that running the students’ home is too much for me?’

  A flush spread over Miss Hanley’s plain, mannish features. ‘No, no, of course not,’ she said hastily.

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it. Because I’ll have you know, I’ve run this home for the past twenty years, and I could run it for another twenty if I chose to!’

  Agatha Sutton picked up her sewing again, but her hands were shaking so much she could hardly manage her needle. She knew Florence and Veronica were exchanging glances, but she didn’t dare look at them.

  Thankfully, Florence changed the subject. ‘I daresay you’ll be very busy once the new set of students arrives,’ she said. ‘I wonder what this lot will be like?’

  ‘As silly and muddle-headed as the last lot and the one before that, I shouldn’t wonder,’ Agatha muttered, still vexed.

  ‘Really, Agatha!’ Florence chuckled. ‘That’s the flower of the nursing profession you’re talking about.’

  ‘I’m sure they will be, once we’ve finished with them,’ she agreed. ‘But they’re nothing more than little girls when they arrive. Over-excited children who have hardly been away from their mothers before and haven’t the first idea how to fend for themselves.’

  ‘Then they’re lucky to have you to look after them, Agatha.’

  She looked up again, still not sure whether Florence was teasing her or not. Her blue eyes seemed suspiciously twinkly behind those pebble glasses.

  ‘I do my best,’ Agatha replied primly. ‘Most of them come round in the end, but there are always those who seem to defy all my efforts to bring them to order. The Irish girls are the worst. They always give me a great deal of trouble.’

  ‘I wonder how you’ll get on with the new O’Hara girl, in that case?’ Veronica mused.

  ‘Another one?’ Florence Parker’s brows rose. ‘Good heavens, how many O’Hara sisters are there?’

  ‘This is the fifth, I believe,’ said Veronica. ‘The oldest two returned to Ireland after their training, one is now a staff nurse here on Male Orthopaedic, and the other is a senior student.’

  ‘Oh yes – young Katie.’ Florence sighed, shaking her head. Agatha knew exactly what she meant.

  ‘Oh, that girl! I can’t think how many times I’ve caught her breaking rules. She hardly seems to heed anything I say.’

  ‘Perhaps this youngest sister will take after the older girls?’ Veronica said. ‘They have all been exceptional nurses. I know Sister Blake wouldn’t be without Staff Nurse O’Hara on Male Orthopaedics.’

  ‘Katie isn’t that bad,’ said Florence. ‘I’ll admit she can be a bit silly at times, but she has a good heart. And she’s finally starting to buckle down to her work.’

  ‘Just as well, with her State Finals only a few months away,’ Veronica huffed.

  ‘Katie has asked if she and her sister might share a room for the last few months while she is a student,’ Agatha said.

  ‘Did she indeed?’ Veronica Hanley looked disapproving. ‘I hope you told her not to be so impertinent? We can’t have students dictating who they share rooms with.’

  Agatha shot her friend a glance. Actually, she had used those very words to Katie O’Hara only a few days before. But she was still smarting over Veronica’s remark about her needing help to run the students’ home.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I believe it might be a good idea,’ she replied. ‘Being responsible for her sister might make the girl more mature.’

  ‘Or it might cause twice the trouble!’ Veronica said.

  ‘Perhaps, but that is my decision,’ Agatha said. ‘After all, I am still in charge of the students’ home, am I not?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Agatha Sutton had the brief satisfaction of seeing her friend’s face tighten as she fought to keep her feelings to herself. It was only when Florence leant over and whispered, ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, my dear,’ that it dawned on her that she would have to follow through with her decision.

  Katie O’Hara would be delighted.

  Chapter Six

  THE BOY LOOKED warily at the bathtub and then back at Dora. ‘I ain’t getting in that thing,’ he declared.

  ‘Oh, yes, you are.’

  ‘I don’t need a bath. I already ’ad one.’

  Dora folded her arms and frowned at the boy. She could smell the dirt and stale sweat on his clothes from the other side of the room. And she had no idea whether that matted mop of hair of his was fair or brown.

  ‘When was that? King George’s Coronation?’

  Archie Duggins glared back at her. He was ten years old and had been admitted to the ward with pleurisy. He was doing his best to put on a confident front, but under the bravado Dora could see the fear in his grubby face.

  But that didn’t stop him resisting their attempts to clean him up.

  ‘Come on, let’s get you bathed and into your pyjamas,’ Dora coaxed. ‘The sooner we get you into bed, the sooner we can start getting you better. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

  Archie warily eyed the steam rising from the bathtub. ‘I s’pose so,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Good boy. Now let’s get those clothes off you.’

  She made a move towards him but he jerked away out of reach. Poorly or not, he was still as slippery as an eel. ‘I will not! Not with you watching.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Lucy sighed from the doorway. ‘We’ve seen it all before.’

  ‘Not mine, you ain’t!’

  Dora struggled not to smile. ‘How about if we look the other way while you get in?’ she suggested.

  Archie considered it. ‘All right,’ he agreed at last. ‘But you’ve got to stand over there in the corner and promise not to look?’

  ‘Now you listen here—’ Lucy started to say, but Dora shook her head.

  ‘Let’s just humour him, shall we?’

  Lucy’s expression was truculent as she stood with Dora in the corner. ‘I’m far too busy to play these games,’ she muttered, looking at her watch.

  ‘If you can think of another way to get him into that bath, then please—’ The sound of skittering footsteps behind them made Dora swing round. Archie was running for the door.

  ‘Oi! Get back here!’ Dora threw herself at him, grabbing him around the legs just as
he got the door open. Pain shot through her shoulder as she hit the hard tiled floor, but she clung on grimly, Archie struggling in her arms.

  ‘Let me go!’ He kicked out at her, catching her in the shins.

  ‘Not likely!’ She looked at Lucy, still standing in the corner. ‘You could lend a hand,’ she hissed.

  ‘I’m not touching that,’ Lucy shuddered.

  ‘Then at least stand by the door and make sure he doesn’t escape again.’ Dora struggled to her feet, still holding on to Archie. ‘Look here, young man, you ain’t leaving this room until you’ve had a wash. So you might as well just let us get on with it, all right?’

  Archie shot her a baleful look, but he must have realised she meant business because he stopped wriggling. ‘All right,’ he grunted.

  The boy’s clothes were scarcely more than layers of dirty rags. Underneath them, his malnourished little body was grey with dirt and covered in livid sores. Even Dora had to hold her breath as she helped him into the bath. Lucy hung back, not even trying to hide her disgust.

  ‘How did he ever get into such a filthy state?’ she muttered.

  Archie shot her a look. ‘I can hear you, y’know!’

  ‘I’m surprised, the state of your ears,’ Dora said, setting about him with a flannel. ‘And you can stop using language like that, young man,’ she added, as Archie mumbled a curse under his breath. ‘Unless you want me to wash your mouth out with this?’ She brandished the carbolic soap.

  ‘I don’t know why these people have so many children, if they can’t look after them,’ Lucy went on. ‘It’s utterly revolting, the way they breed like sewer rats.’

  ‘Who are you calling a sewer rat?’ Archie said.

  ‘Take no notice, love,’ Dora whispered as she scrubbed the dirt out of his hair. She knew the unkind comment was aimed as much at her as it was at Archie.

  He was a lot quicker hopping out of the bath than he was getting in. Dora wrapped his shivering, skinny body in a warm towel.