‘Her cakes are so heavy they could use them as weapons!’ Liesel said.
Anna stared back at their smirking expressions. ‘Actually, I was thinking of becoming a nurse.’
Edward and Liesel looked at each other, then they both burst out laughing.
‘What’s so funny?’ Anna demanded, her voice rising to be heard over their laughter.
‘You!’ Liesel wiped her streaming eyes on the hem of her apron. ‘How could you be a nurse? You don’t know one end of a bandage from another.’
‘I know, but I’m sure they’d be able to train me.’ She turned to Edward. ‘I don’t understand. I thought you’d be happy that I’d want to do something for my country?’
‘I am, my love. It’s just—’ Edward paused, searching for the words. ‘I can’t imagine it, that’s all.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because you’re such a homebody!’ Liesel put in. ‘Honestly, Anna, could you imagine yourself tending wounded soldiers on the battlefield? You get nervous if Mother sends you to the market, and that’s only round the corner!’
‘I do not!’ Anna turned on her. ‘Besides, I wouldn’t have to go far from home. I was thinking of applying to the Florence Nightingale Hospital, and that’s just around the corner.’
Liesel hooted. ‘You? A Nightingale girl!’
‘Why not?’ She stared in frustration at her sister’s laughing face and fought the urge to slap her. ‘I could do it, you know!’ she said.
‘I’m sure you could, sweetheart,’ Edward said kindly, his hand on her shoulder. ‘But I expect your father will need you in the bakery once I’m called up. And besides, there are lots of other ways you can help with the war effort.’
‘You can knit socks for the soldiers with the rest of the old church ladies!’ Liesel mocked.
Anna stared from one to the other. They didn’t believe she could do it, she thought. At least Edward was trying to be kind about it, unlike her sister.
I’ll show you, thought Anna.
And so, on a dull, wet morning in September, she presented herself at the Florence Nightingale Hospital in Bethnal Green to begin her nursing training.
Her nerve started to fail her as she stepped through the wide wrought-iron gates with her parents. Ahead of them, at the far end of the gravel drive, was the main hospital building, with its imposing Georgian façade. Beyond that lay a sprawl of outbuildings, clinics and laboratories.
‘It’s like a village in itself,’ her mother said. ‘How will you ever find your way around?’
‘I’m sure she will get used to it, in time,’ her father replied, giving Anna’s shoulder a bracing squeeze. ‘It will be quite an adventure for you, won’t it, Liebling?’
Anna scowled down at her feet and said nothing. What was she thinking? she wondered. Liesel was right, she was a homebody. This was far too big an adventure for her.
They finally found Porthleven House, a tall, dark stone building whose square bay windows and gothic crenellations did nothing to soften its austere appearance. The middle-aged woman who answered the door to them was as bleak-looking as the house: tall, thin and upright in her grey uniform.
‘Yes?’ She looked at them all down her sharp blade of a nose.
Anna shrank back from her forbidding face, and it was all she could do not to hide behind her mother’s skirts. But her father stepped forward, holding out his hand with his usual cheerful smile.
‘Good afternoon, madam. My daughter—’
‘Name?’ The woman looked straight past him, her gaze fixed on Anna.
She cleared her throat nervously. ‘Anna Beck, miss.’
The woman drew herself up straighter. Her jet-black hair was pulled back in a tight knot, emphasising her long face. She looked down at Anna with disdainful grey eyes.
‘You will address me as Sister or Miss Noonan,’ she said. She took a notebook from the pocket of her starched white apron and consulted it. ‘Let me see … ah, yes. Beck.’ She closed the notebook with a snap. ‘Bring your bag and I’ll show you to your room.’
She turned on her heel and disappeared inside the house. Anna and her parents went to follow, but no sooner had they stepped inside the hall than Miss Noonan turned on them.
‘And where do you think you’re going?’ she snapped. ‘Families are not allowed inside the probationers’ home at any time.’
Anna saw her mother’s shoulders stiffen. ‘But surely we should be allowed to help her settle in.’
‘Families are not allowed inside the building,’ Miss Noonan insisted. For a moment the two women faced each other, and Anna felt sure her mother was going to put the Home Sister in her place. But then her father laid his hand on Dorothy’s arm.
‘It’s all right, my dear,’ he said gently. ‘If those are the rules then we must abide by them. And I am sure it will be easier for Anna to settle in if we are not here fussing over her.’ He turned to his daughter with an encouraging smile. ‘This is where we must say goodbye, Liebling.’
Anna looked from him to her mother and back again. She felt as if all her insides had disappeared, to be replaced by one enormous ball of roiling fear. She didn’t dare speak for fear of crying.
Anna could see her mother biting her lip, also fighting back tears. Only her father remained smiling, albeit rather fixedly.
He took Anna’s hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. ‘I am so proud of what you are doing, going out in the world and doing your duty for your country.’
‘Yes, Papa.’ Anna fought an urge to rush into his arms, to beg him to take her home. If she had, she knew her parents would have given in without another thought. It took every bit of self-control she had to hold herself steady and silent.
‘Take care of yourself, my love.’ Her mother’s voice was choked with emotion as she embraced Anna. ‘You will come and see us soon, won’t you? Let us know how you’re getting on.’
‘Of course she will,’ her father said. ‘And she will bring all the new friends she has made. Isn’t that right, Liebling?’
‘Yes, Papa.’
A moment later, Miss Noonan had ushered them out. Anna stood in the hall, her bags at her feet, staring at the front door for a long moment after the Home Sister had closed it.
‘Good God, what a fuss!’ Miss Noonan exclaimed. ‘Anyone would think we were sending you to Constantinople.’ She headed towards the stairs, then paused and looked back at Anna. ‘Well, come along,’ she said. ‘You’ve taken up far too much of my time already. I have several other probationers arriving this afternoon, not just you!’
Anna followed her up the stairs, doing her best to listen to all the instructions the Home Sister threw over her shoulder.
‘This is where you’ll stay for the six weeks of your preliminary training,’ she said. ‘You will take your meals here, and attend lectures and practical sessions in the classrooms downstairs or the main hospital block. When you have passed your first examination – if you pass it –’ she threw a doubtful look over her shoulder at Anna ‘– you will move next-door to Lennox House to live with the other first-year students, or probationers as we call them. But that’s a long way off for you.’
She reached the landing, and turned to head up another flight of stairs. The bunch of keys at her belt jangled with every step. ‘There’s no maid here, so you’ll be expected to clean your own room and to do your share of keeping the common areas swept and polished. Beds need to be stripped once a week, on a Friday, and linen is to be left out on the landing by half-past six in the morning. Clean linen will be left outside your room, and your mattress will need to be turned and the bed made up by the time I carry out my Friday evening inspection. Any personal laundry will be done on a Tuesday. You’ll need to leave it on the landing in a laundry bag marked with your name … I will not tolerate squabbles over lost items, do you understand?’
‘Yes, Sister,’ Anna replied, her head reeling.
By the time they had gone up a third flight of stairs, Miss Noonan had de
livered another lecture on specific times for bathing and washing, and warned her about making sure to leave hot water for the other girls.
Finally, just when Anna didn’t think she could take in another instruction, the Home Sister reached the top landing. She unhooked the bunch of keys from her leather belt, selected one and unlocked the door.
As she threw it open, Anna was caught by a gust of cold and damp air. But Miss Noonan didn’t seem to notice as she led the way into the room.
‘This is your room. You’re fortunate here that you don’t have to share with anyone. They’re two or three to a room in Lennox House.’
Fortunate wasn’t the word Anna would have used, looking around at the sparsely furnished room, with its bare floorboards, narrow iron bedstead and cheerless, empty fireplace. She thought with a pang of the cosy room at home that she shared with Liesel.
She barely listened as Miss Noonan issued yet more instructions, telling her to change into her uniform and be ready for tea in the dining room at four o’clock sharp. Then, finally, the Home Sister left, and Anna was alone.
Alone.
She couldn’t remember the last time she was by herself. At the bakery there were always her parents, or Edward, or customers coming in and out. Even when she went to bed at night, she had Liesel snuggled in beside her, chattering in the dark.
She busied herself, unpacking her belongings. She quickly stuffed the photographs she had brought from home into her bedside drawer without looking at them, afraid they would make her cry. Then she hung up her uniform, smoothing out the creases in the thick blue-striped cotton. This was the first time she’d been able to bring herself to look at it since her mother brought it home from the dressmaker’s a week earlier, and it still made her stomach flip with nervous anticipation.
As she was making up her bed, she heard Miss Noonan showing another girl to the room next-door, reciting her usual litany of instructions. Anna paused for a moment, listening. But the door closed and the Home Sister’s footsteps receded down the stairs.
Aware of the time inching steadily towards four o’clock, Anna put on her uniform. The calico-lined dress felt heavy, even in the coolness of the room, and the scratchy black wool stockings made her legs itch. It took a long time to attach her high collar and cuffs, fiddling to push the studs through the thick, starched cotton.
She brushed her hair and tried to twist it up under her cap, but it slipped out of the pins and fell in strands around her face. Anna stared despairingly at her reflection in the mirror. Where was Liesel when she was needed? And what kind of nurse was Anna going to make if she couldn’t even pin up her own hair properly?
She turned away from the mirror and sat down on the bed. The flat horsehair mattress barely yielded under her. Out of the small window, she could see a landscape of rooftops and the trees in the park, and beyond that the factory chimneys, belching their dirty yellow smoke into the grey sky.
She thought longingly about the bakery. Her parents would have returned home by now. As it was late afternoon, her mother would be cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing down the floors and sinks and surfaces with carbolic soap. Her father would be in the shop, packing up the last of the bread and cakes. A small crowd would have gathered hopefully around the door, knowing that he sold off goods cheaply at this time of day, hoping for a stale loaf or a leftover pie for their tea. But he would always keep some aside to send a package home with Edward, and one for Tom, too.
A tear splashed on to the back of her hand, then another, until Anna finally gave in to the torrent of misery that had been threatening to engulf her since her parents said goodbye to her. She cried and cried, mopping her tears on the corner of her stiff white apron. The unfamiliar scent of starch made her cry even more. Everything here was so strange, so foreign to her. Her heart ached for home, and the comfort of her family – and Edward.
She was crying so hard, she hardly heard the tapping on her door at first. She looked round, startled. There it was again. She hastily dried her face on her apron and went to answer the door.
Standing there in front of her was the prettiest girl Anna had ever seen, with wide green eyes and flawless porcelain skin. Her blonde hair tumbled in glorious waves over her plump shoulders.
She smiled at Anna. ‘Sorry to trouble you, but I wondered if you had any hairpins I could borrow?’ she asked, in a cheerful cockney accent. ‘Silly me, I’ve left all mine at home. Now I’ve got to try and tame this.’ She pushed her hand through her hair.
‘Oh. Yes, of course. Come in.’ Anna sniffed back her tears and stepped aside to let the girl enter.
‘Ta. You’re a life saver.’ The girl stepped inside the room, looking about her. ‘I could have sworn I’d packed mine. Honest to God, I reckon I’d forget my own head if it wasn’t on my shoulders!’
Anna glanced at her face in the dressing-table mirror as she gathered up the pins. She looked so blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed, it was impossible to miss the fact that she had been crying.
‘Will these do?’ She kept her head down, carefully averting her face as she handed the girl the pins.
‘Lovely, ta very much.’ The girl paused. ‘I’m Sadie Sedgewick, by the way. From next door.’
‘Anna Beck.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Anna. Come far, have you?’
Anna shook her head. ‘Just down the road. Chambord Street.’
Sadie looked at her curiously. ‘Hang on a minute … Did you say your name was Beck? Of Beck’s Bakery?’
Anna looked up sharply. ‘Yes, that’s right. Why? Have you heard of it?’
‘You’re joking, ain’t you? Everyone’s heard of Beck’s Bakery!’ Sadie smiled, her cheeks dimpling. ‘My landlady used to catch the bus from Hackney Wick every Saturday morning to buy bread there. It’s the best bakery in London, so she said.’
‘Yes, it is.’ The words lodged painfully in Anna’s throat.
‘Anyway, I’d better not keep you chatting,’ Sadie said. ‘I’ve got to sort out my hair and I can see you haven’t done yours, either.’
Anna glanced away, towards the dressing table. ‘I’m having a bit of trouble with it,’ she admitted. ‘My sister always does – did – it for me.’
‘Can I help you?’ Sadie offered. ‘As it happens, I’m a dab hand with a hairbrush.’
‘Oh, no, I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble. Have a seat in front of the mirror.’ Sadie picked up the brush and started to pull it through Anna’s hair. ‘You’re lucky,’ she said, ‘your hair’s lovely and silky, not a thatch like mine …’
Anna smiled back at her reflection. It was the first time anyone had ever said anything nice about her hair. Liesel always said it reminded her of rats’ tails.
Anna studied Sadie’s reflection. The girl reminded her of her sister, so fair and pretty. For a moment she could almost convince herself it was Liesel standing there …
Anna felt the tears welling in her eyes again and looked away sharply.
‘It’s a rum old place, ain’t it?’ Sadie said, twisting a lock of hair and pinning it deftly into place. ‘All those rules and regulations, I can hardly remember them all. And that Miss Noonan!’ She shook her head. ‘She’s even worse than the landlady at my old lodgings!’
‘You were in lodgings?’ Anna said.
‘Mrs Stainsby’s boarding house for respectable young ladies in Hackney Wick.’ Sadie recited the words, eyes sparkling with mirth. ‘She thought she was so proper. She didn’t know the half of what went on there!’ She laughed. ‘I daresay it’ll be the same here, once we get used to it.’
Anna looked down at her hands bunched together in her lap. ‘I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.’
‘’Course you will, just give it time. And we can always help each other out, if we get stuck.’
‘I suppose so.’
Sadie finished her work and stepped back, the brush in her hand. ‘There, what do you think?’
‘It looks lovely.
Thank you.’ Anna turned her head this way and that, admiring the neatness of the bun at the nape of her neck. Sadie’s handiwork was just as good as Liesel’s, and she didn’t pull and yank at the hair nearly so much. Anna’s scalp was usually sore by the time Liesel had finished with her.
‘I’m glad to help. Now, I’d best go and get myself ready, or I’ll be in Miss Noonan’s bad books before we’ve even started!’ Sadie grinned. ‘Thanks for the pins. I’ll bring them back when I get some of my own.’
‘There’s no hurry. I’ve got plenty.’
‘Ta.’ Sadie paused for a moment, then said, ‘Don’t forget what I said. If you need help, or someone to talk to …’
‘Thank you. And the same to you.’
When Sadie had gone, Anna went to the window and stared out over the rooftops, silhouetted against the gathering dusk. Even though her family were just across Victoria Park, they felt like a million miles away.
Oh, Anna, she thought. What have you done?
Chapter Three
Oh, Sadie, what have you done?
Sadie Sedgewick gazed around at the five other girls gathered around the dining table, their hands clasped and eyes closed as they listened to Miss Noonan saying Grace.
They all looked so fresh and polished, with their shiny hair, clean nails and bright, smiling faces. Sadie knew she would never fit in here, not in a million years.
‘And we pray, O Lord, that you will bless this food before us …’
As Miss Noonan droned on Sadie’s stomach began to grumble. She hadn’t eaten all day. But hungry as she was, she wasn’t sure she could manage anything. Even the food here seemed strange to her: wafer-thin cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off, and dainty little cakes that looked as if they would disappear in one mouthful.
She caught the eye of a curly-haired girl at the far end of the table, who had one eye open over her clasped hands. She grinned conspiratorially back, just as Miss Noonan said a very loud ‘Amen’.
Sadie watched the girls helping themselves to the food, all so polite, saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘would you mind awfully …?’ in their posh voices. No one had ever taught her proper manners. Even Mrs Stainsby, who fancied herself a cut above, didn’t seem to mind her lodgers reaching across each other or putting their elbows on the table, or holding their forks the wrong way.
A Nightingale Christmas Promise Page 3
