Read The Nightingale Sisters Online

Authors: Donna Douglas

The Nightingale Sisters (29 page)

‘Isn’t he utterly perfect? I could look at him all day,’ she sighed.

‘Motherhood suits you,’ Millie said.

‘Doesn’t it?’ Sophia looked up, her face full of joy. ‘I thought it would be rather tedious, but it isn’t at all. Of course, it helps that everyone is spoiling me madly,’ she added.

‘So I see.’ Millie gazed around at the flowers. ‘It’s like a florist’s shop in here.’

‘I know!’ Sophia pointed across the room at a very tasteful arrangement of spring blooms. ‘Guess who sent those?’ Millie looked blank. ‘Your Dr Tremayne!’ She grinned.

Millie sent Seb a quick sidelong glance. ‘He’s not my Dr Tremayne,’ she said quietly.

‘I know, but he is rather dashing, isn’t he? Far more glamorous than dull old Sir Charles Ingham. I’ve already told David I’m a little bit in love with him. How could anyone not be?’

‘How indeed?’ Seb’s voice dripped sarcasm.

Millie felt the heat rising in her face. ‘It was nice of William to send flowers,’ she commented carefully.

‘Absolutely. If anything, I should be the one sending flowers to him,’ Sophia agreed. ‘When I think about what he did for me – and you, of course,’ she added quickly. ‘You were both absolutely marvellous, coming to my rescue like that.’

‘You did all the hard work!’

‘I was utterly hopeless, and you know it,’ Sophia dismissed the comment. ‘I would have been a gibbering fool if you hadn’t been there to keep me calm. And when poor little Billy didn’t make a peep for such a long time . . .’ She suppressed a shudder. ‘The consultant said he didn’t know what would have happened if Dr Tremayne hadn’t got him breathing the way he did.’

‘Billy?’ Seb said coldly.

‘Oh, dear, I’ve let the secret out, haven’t I? I promised Mother I wouldn’t tell anyone until it was announced in
The Times
.’ Sophia stroked her baby’s cheek with one finger. ‘David and I were both so grateful to Dr Tremayne, we asked if he would mind us naming the baby after him. And he’s agreed to be a godfather, isn’t that wonderful? Of course, you’ll be his other godfather, Seb.’ She smiled at her brother. ‘Don’t you think that’s a marvellous idea, having a doctor for a godfather?’ she said. ‘Perhaps Dr Tremayne will inspire Billy to a career in medicine?’

‘If Seb doesn’t inspire him to a career in writing,’ Millie added loyally. The frosty look Seb shot her silenced her instantly.

Sophia noticed, glancing from one to the other of them. ‘Is everything all right?’ She frowned.

‘Everything is fine,’ Millie assured her. ‘So has your mother been to see her first grandchild yet?’ she swiftly changed the subject.

‘Of course!’ Sophia rolled her eyes. ‘She simply won’t stay away.’

They talked about how besotted the duchess was with the baby, and how she and David’s mother were locked in bitter rivalry over him already. Meanwhile Seb stood at the window, hands thrust into his pockets, staring moodily down at the street.

‘Did you have to be in such a foul mood?’ Millie scolded him as they left the nursing home half an hour later and made their way along Marylebone Road.

‘I’m sorry, were you disappointed I didn’t join you and my sister in your adoration of Dr Tremayne?’

‘I’m disappointed you behaved like a sulky little boy,’ Millie said. ‘Anyway, what have you got against William? He saved your nephew’s life, remember?’

‘How could I ever forget that?’ Seb said bitterly. ‘I’m constantly being told what a hero he is.’ He saw Millie’s reproachful expression and his shoulders slumped. ‘I am thankful to him for saving the baby’s life, of course I am. I just wish
I
could have done more that night. Do you have any idea how utterly useless I felt while you and he were in there, delivering Sophia’s baby?’

‘You did your bit.’

‘I called an ambulance, then plied David with brandy while he chewed his nails down to the elbows. It’s hardly heroic, is it? Not the same as saving a baby’s life, at any rate.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Let’s face it, I can’t compete with Tremayne.’

Millie frowned. ‘Why should you want to compete with him?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Seb laughed bitterly. ‘I’m jealous as hell, Mil. And I can’t stop asking myself why you would want someone like me when you could have him?’

She reached for his hand. ‘But I don’t want him.’

‘Don’t you?’

He started to cross the road but Millie held him back. ‘Seb, you’re not making any sense. I love you, you know that.’

‘I’m not sure I do know that any more, Mil.’ His blue eyes were full of sorrow. ‘I feel as if we’re spinning off in different directions, and I’m losing you. You belong to that world now, a world full of hospitals and doctors, seeing and dealing with things I couldn’t imagine. And then there’s me, stuck in my world full of shooting parties and social engagements, and the same people talking endlessly about the same things all the time.’

‘That’s my world too,’ Millie protested.

Seb shook his head. ‘It used to be, when we first met. But you despise it now. No, don’t deny it, I saw it in your face that weekend we went to Lyford. You couldn’t wait to escape.’

‘Only because of that idiot Jumbo Jameson!’

‘But don’t you see? I’m just like Jumbo Jameson. We went to the same school, the same college, we have the same friends, go to the same parties. We’re both rich, idle fellows, chasing the latest fad and fancy, pretending our lives have some kind of meaning. But really we’re both just treading water.’

‘You’re nothing like him, Seb. You have a career!’

‘Oh, that! I’ve hardly set Fleet Street on fire so far, have I? A couple of diary pieces and a report on my cousin’s wedding for the society pages.’

‘Everyone has to start somewhere.’

‘All I’ve really done is drink port with the other hacks in The Cheshire Cheese. I’ll probably develop gout before I make it on to the front page.’

‘I have great faith in you.’

‘Do you, Mil? I’m not sure I do.’

She stared at him. She’d never seen Seb so depressed, it wasn’t like him at all. She longed for him to smile, to make her laugh again.

‘I don’t care anyway,’ she declared. ‘I don’t care if you give up journalism and spend the rest of your life shooting grouse with Jumbo Jameson. I’ll still want to be with you.’

‘Prove it,’ he said.

‘How?’

‘Marry me.’

She smiled uncertainly. ‘I will.’

‘I don’t mean in two years’ time. I mean now.’

At first she thought he was joking. But the look in his eyes was deadly serious. ‘We can be married in the summer,’ he said. ‘We could live at Billinghurst, at least until we found a place of our own nearby. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To be back in the country, living with your family? We could go riding every day, and I’m sure your father could find some useful work for me to do on the estate. I don’t think I made too poor a job of it, last time I helped out!’ He smiled self-deprecatingly.

‘And what about me?’ Millie said, her voice tinged with ice. ‘Would he find something useful for me to do, too? Or would I be expected to produce a baby straight away, like Sophia?’

Seb’s mouth turned down. ‘That would be enough for some girls.’

‘Not for me,’ Millie said firmly. Then, seeing his disappointed expression, she added, ‘I’m not saying I won’t be as thrilled as Sophia to have a baby one day. But I want to get my State Registration first, and then—’

‘Why?’ he cut her off bluntly. ‘Why do you have to finish your training when you know you’re going to give it up anyway? It just seems like a complete waste of everyone’s time.’

His words struck a painful chord with Millie, reminding her of the harsh comments Sister Hyde had previously made. It was even more painful because she couldn’t find an answer for him. All she knew was that she dreamt of being able to write the letters ‘SRN’ after her name.

‘I want to be able to say I’ve done something worthwhile with my life,’ was all she could say.

‘And marrying me wouldn’t be worthwhile, is that it?’

She stared at him helplessly. ‘Why are you doing this, Seb?’ she pleaded. ‘Why are you making me choose?’

‘If you loved me there wouldn’t even be a choice.’ His voice was flat.

‘And if you loved me you wouldn’t ask,’ she said.

They stood on the pavement, staring at each other. People streamed past, jostling them this way and that, but they barely noticed.

She waited for him to tell her he was joking, that he didn’t mean what he’d said. Anything at all that would help her breathe again. But he was ominously, depressingly silent. Somewhere in the distance, she could almost hear her world crashing down.

‘So that’s it then,’ Seb said finally. ‘I suppose we both know where we stand.’

Millie looked at his stubborn expression, and felt something inside her begin to grow cold and harden like ice. Her gaze still locked on his, she slowly pulled her engagement ring off her finger and handed it to him.

‘I suppose we do,’ she said.

On duty the following morning, Millie threw herself into her work. For once she was grateful that Sister Hyde gave her the bathrooms to clean, because it gave her the chance to work off some of her pent-up energy and frustration. She mopped floors, polished taps until she could see her unhappy face reflected in the chrome, and scrubbed toilets as if she could somehow scrub out all the memories of last night too.

But all the time she couldn’t help wondering if Seb was right. What was the point? she thought. Why struggle on through another two years of training, when everyone knew she was going to give it up anyway? No one would miss her, especially not Sister Hyde. She could go back to Billinghurst and marry Sebastian, and everyone would be happy.

Except me, she thought, grimacing at her reflection in the bath taps.

There were deep shadows etched under her eyes from a night without sleep. She hadn’t told Dora or Helen about her broken engagement yet. Even though she knew they wouldn’t spread gossip, she didn’t want anyone knowing about it. It was as if saying it out loud would somehow make it true. And she wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

She missed Seb already. Even though she hadn’t been able to see him very often, he’d always been there, a reassuring presence in the back of her mind. His absence was almost physical, like a lost tooth. She had to keep going back and probing the spot where he had been, even though she knew it would cause her pain.

She worked so hard that even Sister Hyde seemed grudgingly impressed with her efforts. So Millie was confused when she was summoned by Sister while they were serving the midday meal to the patients.

‘Yes, Sister?’ She steeled herself for another reprimand.

‘Benedict, I’m afraid Mrs Mortimer is having more problems with her hands. She can’t manage her cup at all now, even with the dressing wrapped around it. She needs feeding, and has requested that you do it.’

‘Me, Sister?’

‘You, Benedict.’ Sister Hyde’s raised eyebrows told her she was as surprised by the request as Millie was. ‘Usually, I would not allow patients to dictate such things, but Mrs Mortimer is being particularly trying, and I simply don’t have the time or the patience to argue with her today. So you’ll have to get on with it.’

She thrust the tray with the cup on it into Millie’s hands. Good luck, her look said.

Millie carried the tray carefully down the ward, aware of the pitying looks of the other nurses as she went. She understood why; if Maud Mortimer’s failing body had let her down again, she would want to vent her frustration on someone. Millie felt as if she was entering the lion’s den.

She pasted a breezy smile on her face as she placed the tray down on Maud’s bed table.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Mortimer,’ she greeted her brightly. ‘Are you ready for your dinner?’

‘Of course I am, what else is there to do in this place but eat and sleep?’ Maud snapped. ‘And do stop beaming at me, girl,’ she added. ‘I chose you because I find you the least irritating nurse here, so don’t flatter yourself. What is this anyway?’ She stared at the cup, her lip curling.

‘Broth, Mrs Mortimer.’

‘Broth again? Goodness, how imaginative. That cook has the flair of Escoffier.’ She settled back against the pillows with a martyred expression. ‘Very well,’ she sighed. ‘You’d better get on with it. And I don’t want any of your simpering or sympathy either,’ she warned. ‘My fingers have let me down, and that’s the end of it. But my brain is still functioning perfectly.’

‘Yes, Mrs Mortimer.’

Millie supported her carefully with her left arm while she held the cup to her lips with her right hand. There was silence as Millie concentrated on not spilling anything on to the cloth she’d placed around Maud’s neck. But after about a minute, the old woman batted the cup away with her wrist and said crossly, ‘What is the matter with you today? You’re usually chattering like a parakeet.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Mortimer. I didn’t think you’d want me to talk.’

‘Since when has that ever stopped you? Goodness, if I didn’t know better I would have sworn you were actually upset about something.’ She turned her head to look at Millie, her eyes narrowed. ‘You are, aren’t you? What on earth is wrong with you? It must be something of cataclysmic proportions to upset your sickeningly sunny disposition.’

Millie lowered her gaze to the cup. ‘Sister Hyde doesn’t like us discussing our personal lives with the patients.’

Maud tutted. ‘This ordeal is bad enough, without having to endure it in silence. Now you can either fill the time with the mindless chatter that passes for conversation in this place. Or you can talk to me properly.’ She looked sideways at Millie. ‘I assume there is a man involved?’ Millie nodded. ‘There always is, at your age. So you have had a disagreement with a boyfriend, is that it?’

‘I have to get on with feeding you—’ Millie lifted the cup to her lips again, but Maud jerked her head away.

‘Not until you tell me what is wrong with you.’

‘Very well.’ Millie lowered the cup. ‘If you must know, I’ve broken off my engagement.’

‘Ah.’ Maud was silent for a moment. ‘And may I ask why?’

It was obvious she wasn’t going to touch another drop of her meal until she’d found out everything, so Millie told her. Maud proved to be an unexpectedly good listener.

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