The Nightingale Nurses (16 page)

And then it was all over. The orator had stepped down from the soapbox and moved through the crowd shaking hands, his guard following him, handing out pamphlets.

She pushed her way to the front of the crowd as Peter approached. As he handed her a piece of paper, she said, ‘No, thanks. I don’t want your Fascist filth.’

He stopped dead, his scowl deepening. Then he recognised her. ‘Dora? What are you doing here?’

‘Well, I didn’t come to listen to
him
!’ She nodded towards the speaker who was moving away swiftly through the crowd. He seemed smaller and less imposing off his soapbox. Just a funny little man in a fancy uniform.

Peter glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. ‘You ain’t got no business being here.’

‘It’s a public place, ain’t it? I can go where I like. Or do you and your bully-boy mates decide that too now?’

Peter’s mouth tightened. ‘What do you want, Dora?’

‘For a start, I want to know what happened to that bloke who just shouted out.’ She looked around her, searching for him. ‘Did your mates beat him up?’

‘He shouldn’t have come here starting trouble.’ Peter’s chin lifted stubbornly. ‘He was asking for it.’

‘What about the people who came to your meeting the other night? Were they asking for it too?’

Peter paused for a moment. ‘I suppose Joe Armstrong told you?’ he said finally. ‘He had no right to go running to you.’

‘I’m glad he did,’ Dora said. ‘Because now I can put a stop to it.’

Peter’s lip curled. ‘And what are you going to do?’

‘Try to talk some sense into you, make you see what’s right.’

‘This is right,’ her brother insisted. ‘And you’re not going to stop me, because this is something I believe in.’

Dora was shocked. ‘You mean, you believe in stirring up trouble, and hurting innocent people?’

‘You heard what Mick Clarke said. We need to rise up, reclaim the East End.’ Peter’s green eyes glittered with fervour. ‘The government has been too weak, they’re not going to do anything for us. We need to help ourselves.’

Dora stared at him in disgust. ‘Listen to yourself, this isn’t you. What’s happened to you, Pete?’

Before he could answer, they were interrupted by another of the men. He towered head and shoulders over Peter, his black shirt taut against his burly frame. The silvery remains of a jagged scar ran from his ear to his chin.

‘Aye-aye, Pete,’ he greeted him. ‘What would your missus say about you chatting up other women?’

‘She’s my sister,’ Peter replied in a low voice.

‘Oh, yeah?’ He turned to Dora. Even when he was smiling, there was still a chill in his beady eyes. ‘Come to join us, have you?’

‘I’d rather die.’

The man reeled back as if she’d slapped him.

‘Take no notice of her, Del.’ Peter stepped in hastily. ‘She didn’t mean anything by it.’

‘Yes, I did,’ Dora said. ‘I think you’re a bunch of bullies and troublemakers. If you ask me,
you’re
the ones ruining the East End, not the Jews!’

She was aware of Peter shifting uncomfortably to one side of her, but her unflinching gaze was fixed on the bigger man, Del.

He smiled nastily. ‘I didn’t know your family were a bunch of Jew-lovers, Pete?’ he said softly.

‘At least the Jews don’t go round breaking people’s windows and burning down their businesses.’

‘You’ve got it all wrong, Dora,’ Peter said. ‘We’re just taking back what’s rightfully ours, protecting our families—’

‘I don’t need protecting, thanks very much,’ she retorted.

‘I dunno about that, love,’ Del growled, flexing his fingers into a fist. ‘The East End can be a dangerous place for a young girl on her own.’

Dora faced him. ‘Are you threatening me?’

‘That’s enough.’ Peter stepped between them. ‘Please, Dora, go home,’ he pleaded. ‘This is no place for you.’

‘It’s no place for you, either. Think of Mum . . . think of your wife,’ she begged. ‘If you carry on like this you’ll lose your job, and then where will you be?’

A shadow fell over them. Some other men had joined them.

‘So what’s it going to be, Pete?’ Del challenged him. ‘Are you going to do what your sister says, and run along like a good boy?’

Peter squared his shoulders, his pride wounded. ‘You’d best go, Dora,’ he muttered.

‘But Pete—’

‘You heard me. I told you to go.’

‘And don’t come back if you know what’s good for you,’ Del added.

Dora looked at him. ‘I’ll go where I please, thanks very much,’ she said. ‘These are my streets, not yours.’

Del sent her a level look. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that, love.’

‘
HONESTLY, MUM, I
thought I’d had it for sure!’

Ruby leaned against the mangle in the Pikes’ narrow, sunless strip of back yard, watching her mother hang sheets on the drooping washing line.

‘What did I tell you?’ Lettie replied through a mouthful of pegs. ‘You should have come clean a long time ago. And as for getting into debt again—’

‘Tell me something I don’t know!’ Ruby chewed on her thumbnail. ‘The question is, what am I going to do now? I can’t tell him I lied about the baby.’

‘Shh!’ Lettie shot a quick glance over her shoulder at Danny Riley, hunched on top of the coal bunker. ‘You don’t know who’s listening.’

‘Oh, take no notice of him,’ Ruby dismissed. ‘You know he’s got no more sense than a cabbage. He can’t understand half what’s being said to him at the best of times.’ She folded her arms across her body, shivering in spite of the warm May day. ‘Nick will go mad,’ she said. ‘He made me promise I wasn’t hiding anything else from him. I can’t very well tell him I pretended to be pregnant, can I?’

Lettie bent down stiffly to pull a pillowcase from the basket at her feet. ‘Can’t you tell him it was a false alarm?’

‘For four months! Don’t make me laugh!’

‘It can happen. We had a woman come into Gynae, swore she was six months gone. Size of a house, she was. Turned out it was what they call a phantom pregnancy.’

‘That’s no use to me, is it?’ Ruby snapped. Usually she liked hearing her mum’s stories about life as a ward maid at the Nightingale, especially when there was some juicy gossip involved. But today she wasn’t in the mood. ‘I need something a bit better than a phantom pregnancy if I’m going to stop Nick packing his bags.’ A sudden breeze caught the sheet, slapping it wetly in her face. She pushed it away impatiently. ‘You should have seen him with those clothes, Mum. Pleased as punch, he was. He held those mittens like he was holding his baby’s hand.’

‘I dunno what he was thinking of, bringing them home in the first place,’ Lettie grumbled, passing her the end of a sheet to fold. ‘Everyone knows it’s bad luck.’

A train rumbled overhead, shaking the ground under their feet. Danny Riley curled up, arms covering his face.

‘Look at him, the daft sod!’ Lettie laughed. ‘What’s the matter, Danny? Worried the train’s going to fall on your head?’

‘Leave him alone.’ Ruby was pensive as she helped her mother peg the sheet on the line. ‘What was that you were saying about bad luck?’

‘It’s bad luck to bring anything for the baby into the house before it’s born. I thought everyone knew that?’

‘Nick doesn’t,’ Ruby said slowly.

‘Well, I daresay it’s just an old wives’ tale, but Mrs Prosser’s eldest brought a pram into the house and one of her twins was born dead.’ She shook her head. ‘Such a shame, it was.’

‘I’ll bet,’ Ruby said, her thoughts already elsewhere.

Her mother stopped pegging and turned to look at her. ‘Come on, then. Out with it,’ she said.

‘Out with what?’

‘I know that look, my girl. You’re up to something.’ Lettie regarded her through narrowed eyes. ‘If you’re having another one of your ideas, I only hope it’s better than the last one.’

‘Oh, it is.’ Ruby smiled. ‘But I’m going to need your help . . .’

Dora was surprised to see Esther Gold in Dr Adler’s consulting room first thing in the morning.

‘It’s just a cut really,’ she explained apologetically as he unwound the bloodsoaked strip of sheeting. ‘I tried to sort it out myself, but I can’t seem to stop the bleeding.’

‘Miss Gold?’ Dora said.

She looked up. ‘Dora! How lovely to see you.’

Dr Adler glanced from one to the other. ‘Do you two know each other?’

‘I used to work at Miss Gold’s clothing factory before I came here,’ Dora explained.

‘My father’s clothing factory. I’m just the supervisor.’ Esther smiled affectionately at her. ‘Dora used to be one of our best machinists. But I always knew she was too good for factory life.’

‘It was you who talked me into applying to be a nurse.’ If it hadn’t been for Esther encouraging her, Dora would never have found the courage to take that first step.

‘Yes, and my father hasn’t let me forget it since!’ Esther looked rueful. She was in her late-thirties, big-boned and solid. Her untidy mass of black curls did nothing to soften her strong features, but her dark brown eyes twinkled with kindness.

Dr Adler finished unwinding the bandage, and Dora had to bite her lip to stop herself crying out. The cut was painfully deep, exposing raw, glistening tissue.

‘That looks nasty.’ He sounded calm and professional as always. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t sever a ligament.’ He turned to Dora. ‘Clean this up for me, Nurse.’

Dora quickly set about preparing the warm carbolic lotion. ‘I’m afraid this might sting a bit,’ she said.

Esther gave a hiss of pain as Dora touched the cotton-wool swab to her wound. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ll try to be quick. How did you cut yourself so badly?’

‘Broken glass.’ Esther kept her eyes fixed on the wound. ‘It was all over the factory floor when I opened up this morning. I wanted to get rid of it quickly, before my father saw it. More haste, less speed.’ She looked rueful.

‘Someone smashed your windows? Who’d want to do a thing like that?’

She saw the quick glance that passed between Esther and Dr Adler.

‘The same people who tried to set fire to our neighbour’s shop, I expect,’ Esther said.

Dora finished cleaning her wound and took the bowl over to the sink while Dr Adler set to work stitching. She had a sudden, awful vision of Peter, roaming the streets. Surely he would never do such a thing?

She shut out the thought from her mind and listened to them talking instead. It turned out Esther and Dr Adler had several friends in common, and they were soon gossiping over who’d died and who’d just got married.

He finished stitching her up and sat back. ‘There,’ he said. ‘All done. And a beautiful job too, if I say so myself.’

Esther inspected her hand. ‘Very nice,’ she agreed. ‘With stitching like that, you can have a job at our factory any time.’

‘Did you hear that, Nurse? Miss Gold says I could be a machinist.’

‘You should be honoured,’ Dora smiled back.

‘I might even put you on embroidery,’ Esther said.

As she started to get off the bed, Dr Adler stepped forward and grasped her arm. ‘Take it steady,’ he advised. ‘You have lost a lot of blood. Perhaps you’d like to lie down and rest for a while?’

‘Thank you, but I need to get back to my father. I don’t like to leave him on his own for too long.’ Esther’s dark eyes were troubled.

‘You’ll need to come back in eight days to have the stitches removed,’ Dr Adler said. ‘And if there are any signs of infection, come back and see me straight away.’

‘I will. And thank you again.’

‘You’re most welcome.’

There was a long pause while they stood staring at each other. As Dora busied herself tidying the consulting room, she noticed the look Esther gave Dr Adler from under her lashes. If Dora didn’t know better, she would have sworn her former boss was flirting.

After Esther left, Dr Adler sat on the bed for a moment, staring at the door.

‘She seems like a nice woman,’ he commented, a bit too casually.

‘She is. Like I said, I would never have been brave enough to apply here if she hadn’t pushed me into it. She even gave me her
hamsa
for good luck when I came for my interview.’

Dora still had the tiny silver hand charm tucked in her drawer at the nurses’ home. It was her most treasured possession.

‘Is that right?’ Dr Adler said. ‘In that case, she must be a very nice woman indeed.’

The waiting-room benches had filled by the time Dora had finished cleaning up. A couple with a young child stood at the booking-in counter, but Penny Willard was on the other side of the room, serving cups of tea to two policemen. Dora’s heart sank when she saw that one of them was Joe Armstrong.

She hurried to the booking-in counter, hoping he wouldn’t see her. But he was there before she had picked up the next patient’s set of notes.

‘Hello, stranger,’ he grinned at her.

‘Hello, Joe.’

She went to move past him, but he stepped in front of her. ‘We had to bring another prisoner in. He’s with the doctor now.’

‘Not another suspected appendicitis?’

Joe shook his head. ‘This one fell over in the cell.’

‘Must have been a bad fall.’

‘It was. Very nasty.’

‘I’m surprised it took two of you to bring him in?’

Joe grinned sheepishly. ‘You’re right, he was Tom’s prisoner really. I just tagged along, hoping to see you.’

He moved closer. Dora stepped out of his reach, glancing around the crowded waiting room. ‘Look Joe, we’re a bit busy, so—’

‘Nurse Willard’s been telling me all about the Founder’s Day Ball. Between you and me, I think she was hinting for me to take her.’

‘Maybe you should.’

He frowned. ‘I’d rather go with you.’

Dora sighed. ‘I’ve already told you—’

‘You’re not ready to start courting. Yes, I know.’ He nodded. ‘But we could still go dancing, couldn’t we? What’s the harm in that?’

She looked up into his clear green eyes. The harm was that he might get the wrong idea. ‘I probably won’t even go,’ she said. ‘It’s just a do for the bigwigs, anyway.’

‘That’s not what Nurse Willard says. She reckons all the nurses are going. She made it sound like the social event of the year. And Tom says Katie’s asked him to go with her.’ Joe cocked his head. ‘Go on, it’ll be a laugh. You deserve a good night out.’