The Nightingale Nurses (42 page)

‘How dare you!’ Helen snapped. ‘How dare you bring Charlie into this! How do you know what he would have wanted? You didn’t know anything about him.’

‘Helen, please. She didn’t mean—’ Timothy tried to step in, but his daughter was too angry to listen.

‘I know exactly what she meant, Father. I won’t let her talk about Charlie like that. She has no right.’ She turned back to her mother, face rigid. ‘You despised him when he was alive . . . wanted nothing to do with him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to come to his funeral! And yet now you think you can tell me what he would have wanted? You’re just using a dead man to get me to do what you want. I didn’t think even
you
would stoop that low!’

She threw down her knife and fork and blundered to her feet, pushing back her chair with a clatter. She had reached the door before Constance could speak.

‘He came to see me,’ she said quietly.

Helen stopped, her back still turned. ‘When?’

‘In the summer. Just before the ball.’ She turned to her husband. ‘You remember, don’t you, Timothy?’

He nodded. ‘Charlie wanted to speak to you in private, as I recall.’

It was the last time Constance had ever seen him. A hot wave of shame broke over her as she remembered how ungraciously she had behaved.

Helen hesitated in the doorway, her expression wary. ‘Why did he come?’

‘He wanted to make peace between us.’ Constance smiled, remembering. ‘He told me how much our disagreement was hurting you.’

‘But you didn’t listen to him?’

‘No, I didn’t.’ How she wished she had now. If she had only allowed herself to admit her mistake, to accept how much Charlie and Helen loved each other, perhaps none of them would be in so much pain now. ‘But I admired him for coming here and having the courage to face me.’

Helen managed a trembling smile. ‘Charlie was always brave.’

‘And he loved you. I can see that now.’ Constance looked up at her daughter, standing in the doorway, her head bowed. ‘I know we didn’t always see eye to eye, but we did both want the best for you. That’s why I think he’d be so disappointed now, to think you were throwing your studies away—’

‘No!’ Helen cut her off angrily. ‘You just can’t stop yourself, can you?’ she said, her face full of contempt. ‘Just when I think you might understand, you have to go and ruin it by . . . by being you!’

‘Helen!’

But she’d already gone, slamming the door behind her.

Constance turned to her husband, at a loss. ‘I – I don’t know what to say,’ she said. ‘I can’t reach her.’

‘She’ll come round. She just feels very lost at the moment.’

‘But I want to help her!’

‘Then perhaps the time has come for you to be honest with her?’

Constance stared at him. ‘What do you mean? Of course I’m honest. I’m always honest. I thought that was the problem . . .’

‘I mean, be honest about yourself.’

His smile was bland, every inch the expression of a kindly country vicar. But behind his spectacles, there was a look in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. A look that told her there was no sense in pretending.

‘I don’t understand,’ she tried.

‘I believe you do, my dear. That secret from your past you’ve always tried to hide?’

‘Secret?’ said Constance faintly.

‘Please, Constance, we’ve been married far too many years.’ He looked amused. ‘I knew the moment I met you that there was something you weren’t telling me, something that had happened in your past that you felt you had to hide.’

Panic washed over her. She opened her mouth to deny it, but Timothy held up his hand. ‘It’s all right, my dear, I don’t want to know. I’ve always taken the view that the past is the past, and that if you wanted to tell me you would in your own good time. But I wonder if now might be the right occasion to share some of your lessons learned with Helen? You never know, perhaps it might help to bridge the gap between you.’

Constance looked into his mild, smiling face. She had always thought her husband such an innocent, unworldly person. But he understood far more than she’d given him credit for.

She smiled sadly. ‘You’re a very wise man.’

‘Of course I am, my dear. I married you, didn’t I?’ He stood up and kissed the top of her head. ‘So will you talk to Helen?’

Constance hesitated. ‘I’ll try,’ she promised finally.

It was Katie’s birthday, and as they had both just been assigned night duty on Male Orthopaedics, Dora had treated her to a Saturday afternoon matinee of
My Man Godfrey
at the Palaseum.

‘I love William Powell, don’t you?’ Katie sighed as they came out of the darkened cinema into the foyer afterwards. ‘Isn’t it strange that he and Carole Lombard can pretend to be in love in the film when they’re divorced in real life? I don’t think I’d be able to speak to my Tommy again if we ever parted. How about you?’

‘I’m about to find out, aren’t I?’ Dora nodded across the foyer. Penny Willard was coming in through the doors, arm-in-arm with Joe Armstrong.

‘Oh, no!’ Katie squealed. ‘Quick, let’s go!’

‘Why?’

‘You don’t want them to see us, do you?’ Katie tugged on her sleeve, but Dora stood her ground.

‘Too late, they’re coming over.’ She waited to feel a pang of jealousy, but nothing happened. Even when Joe spotted her and put his arm around Penny’s shoulders, she was unmoved.

‘All right, Dora?’ he greeted her. ‘Been to see the film, have you?’

She bit back the sarcastic retort that sprang to her lips. ‘Yes. It’s good. You’ll enjoy it.’

‘Not sure how much we’ll see, stuck in the back row!’ Joe leered.

Dora glanced at Penny. She looked mortified, poor thing. She tried to squirm away from Joe’s embrace, but he held her tightly. ‘What do you reckon to this march tomorrow?’ he said. ‘Bet your brother can’t wait, can he?’

Dora sent him a level look. ‘Neither can I,’ she said.

Joe sneered. ‘You’re not thinking of joining that protest, are you?’

‘Why not?’ She hadn’t been considering it until that moment, but something about Joe’s arrogant grin incensed her. ‘Someone needs to stop the Blackshirts. And the police don’t seem to be doing anything about it,’ she added, pointedly.

Joe’s face flushed. ‘You can’t,’ he said. ‘It’s too dangerous. Besides, there’s no point. We’ve all had our leave cancelled. There’ll be thousands of police on the streets, making sure the march gets through.’

‘All the more reason why I should be there, then.’

She glared up at him, holding his gaze, fierce and determined. Then Joe laughed.

‘Suit yourself,’ he said. ‘But if you think a few protesters will be any match for the police, you’ve got another think coming!’

‘You weren’t really serious, were you?’ Katie said as they watched the couple head off towards the ticket office. ‘You’re not really thinking of joining that protest?’

‘I want to do something,’ Dora said. ‘Dr Adler is going to set up a first-aid post in Cable Street. I thought I might go with him and help.’

‘Matron would never agree to it.’

‘Matron wouldn’t have to know, would she? I’m on nights, so what I choose to do during the day is my business.’

‘All the same, I don’t think she’d like it,’ Katie said. ‘And Joe’s right. My Tommy reckons it’s going to be murder out there on the streets. What if you get hurt?’

‘I won’t. I told you, I’m going to offer first aid.’

Katie sent her a level look. ‘I know you, Doyle. You say you’re going to stay on the sidelines but before you know it you’ll be in there, getting mixed up in it all. Well, you wouldn’t catch me going. Tommy’s already told me I’m to stay in the nurses’ home and not come out until it’s all over.’

‘Lucky for your Tommy I’m not his girlfriend then, ain’t it?’ Dora replied.

‘
YOU HAVE A
visitor,’ Timothy Tremayne said.

It was Sunday morning, and Helen was brushing her hair in front of her bedroom mirror, ready to go to church with her parents. She looked up at the sound of her father’s voice on the other side of the door.

‘A visitor?’

‘She says she’s a friend of yours from the hospital. Miss Hollins?’

‘Hollins?’ Helen went to the door. Her father stood there, looking smart in his cassock and dog collar. ‘What does she want?’

‘You’d better go and find out, hadn’t you? I’ve put her in the drawing room.’

Helen looked at her watch. ‘But what about church?’

‘I’m sure the Lord won’t mind you missing the morning service just this once. You can always catch up with Him at Evensong, can’t you? And if you’re worried about your mother, she’s already gone down to the church to bully the sexton.’ He smiled. ‘You go and see your friend. It will do you good to chat to someone your own age. You’ve been cooped up with us for a week now.’

Amy was perched on the edge of one of the chintz-covered sofas. She jumped to her feet the minute Helen walked in.

‘Oh, thank heavens.’ She put her hand to her heart. ‘I was terrified of meeting Mrs Tremayne.’ Her eyes darted around anxiously. ‘She’s not here, is she?’

‘Don’t worry, you’re quite safe.’ Helen ushered her back on to the sofa. ‘This is a nice surprise,’ she said.

‘What you mean is, I’m the last person you expected to see!’ Amy’s mouth twisted. ‘To be honest, I don’t even know why I’m here,’ she admitted frankly. ‘I just knew I had to get out of the house, and you were the only person I could think of to visit. I’m sorry, that sounds awful.’ She blushed. ‘I wanted to come and make sure you were all right, too. Bevan wrote and told me you’d left.’ She regarded Helen sympathetically. ‘How are you feeling now?’

‘Better than I was, I suppose.’ She was feeling less anxious, but a heavy cloud of depression still settled on her. ‘Would you like some tea?’ she offered.

She rang for the maid and ordered it, then settled down in the armchair. ‘So are things very difficult at home?’

‘It’s awful!’ Amy grimaced. ‘My parents are disgusted with me, as you can imagine. My mother can hardly bring herself to look at me, let alone speak to me. The only time she utters a word is to tell me how disappointed she is with me.’ Amy sighed. ‘How about yours?’

Helen considered it. Much as she resented her mother, she had to admit Constance hadn’t criticised her at all. And she certainly hadn’t stopped trying to speak to Helen. ‘My mother is obsessed with the idea of my taking the exams,’ she said.

‘Gosh, yes, the State Finals are tomorrow, aren’t they? I wish I could sit them.’ Amy laughed. ‘I never thought I’d hear myself say it, but I miss the hospital. I even miss Sister Parker’s lectures!’

‘Me too,’ Helen said.

Mary knocked softly and brought in their tea. When she’d gone, Amy said, ‘It must be nice to be waited on, though. That’s something you definitely don’t get in the nurses’ home!’

‘I’m sure Sister Sutton would have brought you a pot of tea if you’d asked her nicely!’ Helen smiled, handing her a cup.

Amy was thoughtful as she sipped her tea. ‘You haven’t asked me about my scandalous affair?’ she said. ‘That’s all any of the other girls are interested in.’

‘Do you want to tell me?’

‘There isn’t much to tell.’ Amy shrugged. ‘I behaved like an idiot. I fell in love with a married man, and I thought he loved me too.’

‘You knew he was married when you met him?’

‘Yes, I did.’ Amy’s chin lifted defiantly. ‘But I didn’t care, at first. I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, you see. It was just a bit of fun. He was just a rich, successful man who could give me everything I wanted. He wined and dined me, and took me to expensive places. He was much more fun than the penniless medical students I’d been out with before.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘But then I started to fall in love with him, and I wanted more.’ Her face grew wistful. ‘I thought he loved me, too. He told me he didn’t love his wife, that he’d only married her because she was rich. He said that once he’d established himself in his career, he wouldn’t need her any more and he was going to leave her. And I believed him, because I wanted it to be true.’

‘When did you realise it wasn’t?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I suppose it really struck me on the night of the Founder’s Day Ball. I so wanted to go with him, to be seen with him, and he wouldn’t allow it. And then when you got married, and I saw the way Charlie stood in front of all those people and told the world he loved you, I suddenly realised that my lover would never have the courage to stand up in front of anyone and say that about me.’

Amy’s teacup rattled in the saucer as she put it down. ‘You were so lucky to have Charlie,’ she said. ‘I know it might seem heartbreaking for you now, but one day you’ll look back and realise how fortunate you were to have someone in your life who loved you with all their heart.’

Helen swallowed hard. Even now she tried not to think about Charlie. If she opened up that part of her brain she was afraid the pain would just engulf her and leave her paralysed.

She tactfully changed the subject. ‘How did his wife find out?’

‘I told her.’

Helen jerked, sloshing tea into her saucer. ‘You did what?’

‘He didn’t seem in any hurry to do it, so I thought I’d force the issue. I wrote her a note. I thought she would confront him, throw him out. But she took it straight to Matron instead.’ Amy looked pensive. ‘Even then, I thought he would step in, come to my rescue and protect me. But he just stood back and let me take the punishment. He didn’t say a word.’

As Amy was speaking, a thought suddenly occurred to Helen. ‘This lover of yours – it wasn’t a doctor, was it?’

Amy paused for a moment. ‘I suppose you might as well know . . . it was Simon Latimer.’

‘Mr Latimer?’ Helen nearly choked on her tea.

‘I thought you’d guessed,’ Amy went on. ‘You almost caught us together once.’

Helen vaguely recalled the scent of rose perfume at the top of the staircase that led from the operating theatres. Amy’s perfume. ‘I had no idea,’ she said.

‘You see why I thought he’d protect me?’ Amy said. ‘I should have known better. I haven’t heard a word from him since I left the hospital. He’s completely abandoned me.’

She looked so devastated, Helen’s heart went out to her. ‘You poor thing.’