The Nightingale Nurses Page 7

  ‘Always busy on wash day, ain’t it?’ he said. ‘Although being a modern young lady, I suppose you’ve got one of them new washing machines to do it all for you? I’ve heard all you have to do is switch them on. And no washday hands!’

  Ruby hid her hands in the folds of her skirt. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I beg your pardon, Madam. I’ve forgotten my manners.’ He raised his hat, revealing sparse greasy strands of hair stretched over his shining bald head. ‘Bert Wallis, at your service.’

  She had never been called Madam before. ‘Am I meant to have heard of you?’

  ‘Probably not,’ he agreed. ‘I represent Parker and Sons Credit Company. I expect you’ll see me around here quite a lot.’ His eyes scanned the flats. ‘We have several customers in Victory House. Young couples like yourself, needing a bit of help to make ends meet.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Ruby flared up. ‘Who says we need help to make ends meet?’

  ‘Oh, don’t take it the wrong way, Madam, I’m sure I didn’t mean any offence,’ he said hastily. ‘It’s just I know from experience how difficult it can be, when you’re first starting out.’ He glanced past her into the flat. ‘Just married, are you?’

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘I thought so. Your husband’s a lucky man, if I may say so.’ He gave her an oily smile. ‘And this is your first home together, eh? That’s nice. But it’s not easy, is it, when you first move into a place? I expect you’re having to make do and mend with a lot of old bits and pieces, aren’t you?’ He shook his head. ‘That’s a real shame. A beautiful place like this deserves to be done out nicely, doesn’t it? Why should you start your married life with a load of old cast-offs when you could turn this place into a proper little palace?’

  Ruby pursed her lips. She’d been saying the same thing to Nick the night before, but as usual he’d said they couldn’t afford it.

  ‘I can see you’re the type of young lady who appreciates the finer things in life,’ Bert Wallis said. ‘You want everything nice, don’t you? And that’s where I come in.’ He shifted closer, lowering his voice. ‘You take out a loan with us to buy what you need now, and pay for it gradually, over the coming weeks and months.’

  The truth dawned. ‘A debt, you mean?’ Ruby shook her head. ‘My husband would never agree to that.’

  ‘I told you, it’s not what you’d call a debt. More like . . . easy terms. There’s no shame in it. Everyone’s doing it, even the Hollywood stars.’

  That caught her interest. ‘What Hollywood stars?’

  Bert Wallis pulled a face. ‘I can’t remember their names off hand, but I’m sure I read about it in Picturegoer.’

  Ruby paused for a moment, thinking. She’d seen a Pathé newsreel at the pictures of Claudette Colbert’s home, and her bedroom was a dream. Ruby would love a glamorous new bedroom suite instead of that lumpy old mattress they’d borrowed from her mum . . .

  She shook her head. ‘My Nick still wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘He needn’t know.’ Bert flicked his tongue over his lips. ‘We could fill in the forms now and you could pay me back, just a couple of shillings a week out of the housekeeping. What could be easier than that?’

  It sounded easy enough, she thought. They probably wouldn’t even notice a few bob a week.

  ‘Imagine showing off this place to your friends when you’ve done it out nice?’ Bert’s voice was so low, she could feel herself being drawn in, as if she was being hypnotised. ‘You’d be the envy of everyone, wouldn’t you? You could even get yourself one of those washing machines. Just think what a blessing that would be.’

  Ruby stared down at her hands, red and roughened from the harsh green washing soap.

  ‘Tell you what, it’s getting a bit blowy out here,’ Bert Wallis said, turning up his jacket collar. ‘Why don’t we go inside? Then we can have a nice cup of tea and I’ll give you all the details . . .’

  Chapter Seven

  THE FIRST THING Dora saw when she arrived for her shift at seven o’clock was a man sleeping on the bench at the back of the waiting room.

  Where had he come from? The porter had only unlocked the doors five minutes earlier. He must have been quick off the mark, she thought. Either that or he’d been crafty enough to get himself locked in overnight.

  She looked around wildly, expecting to see Sister Percival bearing down on them, then remembered she wasn’t due on duty for another hour. Penny Willard hadn’t turned up yet, and Dr McKay was locked away in his consulting room. There was no one in the waiting room except her and the tramp.

  Dora looked down at him snoring softly, stretched out on the bench, covered in a shabby black coat. He was a great bear of a man, with a shaggy head of dark curls. He’d taken off his shoes, and his big toes peeped out of holes in both socks.

  ‘Excuse me?’ She tapped his shoulder. He didn’t stir.

  She tried again. ‘Excuse me . . . Mister?’ He stirred, grunted, rolled over and went back to sleep. He was young for a tramp, no more than in his mid-thirties by the look of him.

  She shook him harder. ‘Oi, you! You can’t sleep here.’

  The man opened one brown eye and looked up at her. ‘Eh?’

  ‘I said, you can’t sleep here. This ain’t a dosshouse, y’know.’

  ‘Oh . . . right. Sorry, Nurse.’ He sat up, rubbing his hand through his hair. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Time you weren’t here.’ Dora picked up his shoes and handed them to him.

  He stared at them in confusion and then back up at her. ‘I’m sorry . . . you want me to leave?’

  ‘That’s the general idea, yes. Unless you’re ill and you want to see a doctor?’ She peered at him. ‘Are you ill?’ she asked.

  He looked dazed. ‘Er . . . no,’ he admitted, looking sheepish. ‘Just tired, that’s all.’

  ‘So you thought you could sleep it off in here?’

  ‘Well, yes . . .’

  ‘Park bench not good enough for you, I suppose?’

  ‘Hardly.’ He paused for a moment, as if he was giving the matter some thought. ‘Look, Nurse, I think you might have got the wrong idea—’

  ‘No, mate, it’s you who’s got the wrong idea, thinking you can sleep off your hangover in here.’

  ‘Hangover? Oh, no.’ He shook his head. ‘You see, what happened is—’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Dora cut him off. ‘Just sling your hook. You’re making the place look untidy.’

  She watched him as he crammed his feet into his worn-out shoes. She wished she hadn’t snapped at him. He seemed harmless enough, poor sod.

  ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I’d let you stay if I could, but I can’t. The Sister here is a right old cow, and she’d have my guts for garters.’ She reached into her pocket and took out a coin. ‘Here’s threepence. That should buy you a cup of tea at the café on the corner. They’ll probably let you shelter there for a bit, if you’re lucky.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘It’s all right, you don’t have to pay me back. Just don’t let me see your face around here again, all right?’

  He stared down at the coin nestling in his giant paw. ‘I – I truly don’t know what to say, Nurse.’

  Dora smiled as she watched him shambling out through the double doors. She felt very pleased with herself for her good deed, not to mention for averting another drama with Sister Percival.

  No sooner had he shambled off across the courtyard than Penny Willard arrived.

  ‘Oh, my, is that the time?’ She made a big pretence of looking at the clock above the booking-in counter. ‘My alarm clock must be slow.’

  Dora sent her a sceptical look as she wrote that day’s date on a fresh page in the booking-in ledger. ‘It’s a good thing Percival’s not coming in until late this morning.’

  ‘Isn’t she? I’d forgotten all about that.’ Penny didn’t meet her eye as she pulled her copy of the Daily Express from under her cloak. She sat behind the desk, calmly flicking through the newspaper.
r />   Dora stared at her. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I have to read my stars every morning before I can start my day.’

  ‘What about the patients?’

  Penny’s heavy-lidded gaze moved slowly across the empty waiting room. ‘I don’t think we’ll be overwhelmed by the rush, do you?’

  ‘If we don’t have any patients in Casualty we could always make a start on today’s Outpatients list?’

  Penny gave her a lazy smile. ‘Do calm down, Doyle. We might as well make the most of it, since Percy’s not here to crack the whip.’

  She consulted her horoscope and then insisted on consulting Dora’s, too. A couple of patients arrived, but Penny took their names and sent them off to wait on the benches until she was ready to receive them.

  ‘You’re going to have an unexpected encounter today. Ooh, that sounds interesting, doesn’t it?’ Penny read out.

  ‘Not really,’ Dora replied. ‘Every day’s an unexpected encounter in this place. You never know what you’re going to see.’

  As if to prove her point, the double doors suddenly flew open and a young policeman came through them, hauling a man with him. From the firm grip he had on the man’s arm, it was hard to tell if the policeman was holding him up or stopping him from escaping.

  Penny Willard sat up straighter behind the counter and pulled a strand of blonde hair from her cap. ‘Hello, who’s this? He looks rather nice.’

  Dora recognised the policeman immediately. She watched as he strode up to the desk, dragging the man behind him.

  ‘We arrested this one trying to break into a warehouse this morning,’ he said. ‘Funny thing is, as soon as we got him to the station he started complaining of a bellyache.’

  ‘I’ve got appendicitis, I know I have.’ The man tried to wriggle free from the policeman’s grasp, but he held on grimly.

  ‘You’ll have a broken arm, too, if you don’t pack it in.’ The policeman looked up and noticed her. ‘Dora?’

  ‘Hello, Joe.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were working in Casualty?’

  ‘I started a couple of weeks ago.’

  Penny looked from one to the other. ‘Do you two know each other?’

  ‘I should say.’ Joe gave Dora a warm smile. ‘Dora and me are courting. Ain’t that right?’

  ‘I—’ She was aware of Penny’s interested look. But before she could say any more, Sister Percival arrived and threw herself into the middle of the situation like a fizzing ball of perpetual motion.

  ‘You two. What are you doing?’ The words came out short and sharp, too fast for Dora and Penny to defend themselves. ‘I hope you’re not flirting when there are patients waiting? I know what you young nurses are like. Man mad, the lot of you.’ Her eyes darted to Joe and the man. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘PC Armstrong has brought in a prisoner, complaining of abdominal pains.’ Dora stepped in quickly while Penny was still trying to slide her copy of the Daily Express under the counter.

  ‘Then you’d better get him attended to, hadn’t you?’ Sister Percival replied sharply. ‘Take him to Consulting Room Three at once, and inform Dr McKay. Not you,’ she added, as Joe went to follow them. ‘Patients and medical staff only in the consulting rooms.’

  ‘But he’s under arrest . . .’

  ‘I said, patients and medical staff only.’ Sister Percival drew herself up to her full height, which barely reached Joe’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Constable, we’ll make sure he doesn’t escape through a window.’

  Dr McKay took a long time examining the man, palpating his stomach, listening to his heart and asking all kinds of questions.

  ‘I’m sorry, young man, but I’m afraid I can’t find anything wrong with you,’ he said finally. ‘But that doesn’t mean you’re not ill,’ he went on, as the man’s face fell. ‘We should probably admit you to the ward for further tests.’ He turned to Dora. ‘Arrange for this patient to be transferred up to Judd, would you?’ He looked at the man, who was fighting to keep the grin off his face. ‘I hope that’s all right with you, Mr Treddle?’

  ‘Fine by me, ta, Doctor. I reckon I can put off going to jug for a few days!’

  When Dora returned to the waiting room, Joe Armstrong was standing at the counter talking to Penny Willard. Dora heard her laughter carrying down the corridor.

  He saw Dora and headed towards her.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Dr McKay wants to admit him for tests.’

  Joe’s face fell. ‘You’re having a laugh, ain’t you? There’s nothing wrong with him.’

  ‘We don’t know that until we’ve done the tests.’

  He sighed. ‘My sergeant won’t be happy about this.’

  ‘Then he’d better have a word with Dr McKay.’ Dora went to the counter and picked up the next patient’s notes. Joe followed her.

  ‘Can I talk to you?’ he asked.

  ‘Sorry, I’m working.’

  Just her luck, Sister Percival appeared at that moment. ‘I want you to go for first lunch, Doyle,’ she said.

  She was aware of Joe standing beside her, listening. ‘Do you mean now, Sister?’

  Sister Percival consulted her watch. ‘Unless someone has rearranged the timetable in the dining room without informing me,’ she said. ‘Go along, Nurse. And I want you back here not a moment later than half-past ten.’

  Joe trailed after Dora and out into the courtyard. ‘I haven’t seen you in ages,’ he said.

  ‘I haven’t had much time off lately.’

  ‘I’ve phoned that nurses’ home of yours so often, I reckon that old dragon of a Sister must be sick of me!’ He reached for her hand, but Dora pulled away.

  ‘Matron’s office is right over there,’ she hissed. ‘Do you want to get me the sack?’

  ‘But I’ve missed you.’

  She turned her head to look at him properly for the first time. She could understand why Penny Willard had been flirting with him outrageously. Joe Armstrong looked so handsome in his policeman’s uniform. He had tucked his helmet under his arm and his fair hair glinted in the spring sunshine.

  He was everything she could have wanted in a boyfriend. And yet . . .

  And yet he wasn’t Nick Riley. She was angry with herself for even thinking it, but it was the truth.

  They had been out together on a couple of occasions over the past few weeks, and in that time Dora had desperately tried to make herself love Joe. She’d hoped that if she spent enough time with him then sooner or later something would click. But it hadn’t happened, and she had begun to give up hope that it ever would.

  ‘So when am I going to see you again?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m not sure when I’ll get my next night off.’

  ‘You must have some idea, surely?’

  Dora took a deep breath. She was going to tell him that she thought it might be better if they didn’t see each other any more, but his green eyes were so full of appeal she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  ‘Next Thursday,’ she said. ‘If I can get the time off.’

  He grinned. ‘That’s my girl! I’ll take you dancing.’

  ‘Do we have to?’ Dora pleaded. ‘I don’t really feel like dancing after fourteen hours on my feet!’

  ‘The pictures, then. I’ll even let you sit in the back row with me, if you’re good.’

  Before she could stop him, he swooped down and gave her a long, hard kiss on the lips.

  ‘Joe!’ She pushed him off. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.’

  ‘Did you have to do it here? Heaven knows who could be watching . . .’

  She glanced around nervously – and spotted Nick, smoking outside the Porters’ Lodge. Dora wasn’t even sure he’d seen them, but still felt as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

  ‘You’d better go,’ she said, giving Joe a little shove in the direction of the gates.

  ‘I’ll see you next Thursday.’


  ‘If I can get the time off,’ she reminded him.

  ‘You’d better!’ He grinned.

  Penny Willard was waiting for Dora when she returned from lunch. ‘I suppose that was your unexpected encounter, like it said in your stars,’ she said. ‘You kept him quiet. Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?’

  Dora shrugged. ‘We’ve only been out a few times.’

  ‘All the same, I’d hold on to him if I were you. He seems really nice. And you can tell he’s keen on you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Dora sighed, her gaze drifting towards the double doors. ‘Yes, he is, isn’t he?’

  That was the problem. She didn’t want to lead Joe on and hurt him. But he was so persistent, it was hard to say no.

  Perhaps she wouldn’t want to say no after next week, she told herself bracingly. One more date, and she would know whether or not to end it.

  Sister Percival appeared again, springing up out of nowhere like a jack-in-the-box, as usual.

  ‘There you are,’ she said. ‘Dr Adler wants you to help him with a poisoning in Consulting Room Two.’

  ‘Dr Adler?’ Dora frowned.

  ‘Yes. He’s back, didn’t anyone tell you? He arrived from Switzerland early this morning. Poor man, I expect he’s utterly exhausted. But he’s so dedicated, he came straight back to work.’ She beamed her approval of Dr Adler’s selflessness.

  At last I get to meet him, Dora thought, as she made her way down the corridor. She had heard so much about the famous and brilliant Jonathan Adler, she wondered if the reality could ever match up.

  But then she pushed open the door to the consulting room and realised they had already met, as she found herself staring at a young man bent double, retching into a bowl – and the man she had thrown out of the department first thing that morning.

  He had swapped his shabby black coat for a white one, but she would have known him anywhere.

  ‘Ah, Nurse Doyle.’ Dr Adler’s face was impassive under his shaggy mane of dark curls. ‘Mr Creasey here thinks he may have accidentally ingested some rat poison. Let’s see if we can’t wash him out, shall we?’

  Chapter Eight

  SHOREDITCH WORKING MEN’S Club was packed for the Thursday night fight. A pall of cigarette smoke mingled with the smell of sweat and stale beer. Men gathered around the ring, pints in their hands, jeering and yelling encouragement.