Never mind moaning Londoners, Jess thought. Miss Pomfrey could give Hilda Reynolds a few lessons in complaining.
Miss Pomfrey was taking her to task about putting her belongings too far out of reach on her locker when Jess heard Mrs Reynolds calling out for help.
‘Excuse me a moment,’ she cut Miss Pomfrey off in mid-complaint and stuck her head out of the screens. Almost immediately, Sister Allen bore down on her.
‘Is something wrong, Jago?’ she asked.
‘I thought I heard Mrs Reynolds calling out …’
Sister’s brows arched. ‘And why should that be any concern of yours?’
‘I—’
‘Go back and attend to your patient, Nurse.’
Jess just managed a quick, helpless look at Daisy before she retreated back behind the screens.
Miss Pomfrey scowled at her. ‘Well?’ she said. ‘Are you going to move my spectacles, or do I have to fall out of bed and break my neck trying to reach them?’
Don’t tempt me, Jess thought, snatching up the glasses and putting them down again.
She was fetching a bedpan when she met Daisy in the sluice, rinsing out a bed sheet under the tap.
‘Bother, this rusty water is just making the stain worse,’ she complained. ‘This is all your Mrs Reynolds’s doing, by the way, vomiting everywhere.’
‘Don’t blame me. I tried to go to her when she first called out, but Sister wouldn’t let me.’
‘She wouldn’t let me go either. Said Mrs Reynolds has to learn to wait her turn.’
Jess frowned. ‘Have you ever noticed how Sister treats the patients from London different from everyone else?’ she asked.
‘What do you mean?’
But before Jess could answer they were interrupted by a voice bellowing down the corridor outside.
‘Hello? Is anyone there?’
Jess went to the door of the sluice, just in time to see a stately-looking woman swathed in a tweed coat go sailing past.
‘Can I help you?’ Jess called after her.
The woman turned around slowly, and Jess found herself looking into a pair of steely eyes.
‘I’m looking for my friend Miss Pomfrey,’ she announced.
‘And you are?’
The steely eyes narrowed to slits. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Mrs Huntley-Osborne! What a pleasant surprise.’
All at once Sister Allen descended on them, wearing an expression Jess hadn’t seen on her face before. The corners of her mouth were pinned upwards in what looked oddly like a smile. Except it couldn’t be, because Sister Allen never smiled.
‘How delightful to see you,’ she gushed. ‘You’re here to visit Miss Pomfrey, I imagine? How very thoughtful. I’ll take you to her, shall I? I expect she’ll be pleased to see you.’
Jess was still watching them walking down the corridor together when Daisy came up behind her. ‘I see you’ve met Mrs Huntley-Osborne?’
‘Who is she?’
‘The village busybody. She and Miss Pomfrey are on the WVS committee together.’
‘She can’t just turn up. It’s not a visiting day.’
Daisy sent her a pitying look. ‘You don’t know Mrs Huntley-Osborne,’ she said. ‘The rules never apply to her. Besides, she and Sister Allen are very thick together.’
‘I can see that.’ Jess craned her neck. At the far end of the ward, Sister was fawning over the woman in the tweed coat. She couldn’t have looked more excited if King George himself had turned up for a visit.
They were still chattering away behind the screens when Jess went to check on the other new patient, Elsie Briggs.
She was in her thirties, with untidy brown hair and a strong-featured face. She was suffering from endo-carditis, a disease of the heart that required absolute bed rest.
‘Hello, ducks. How are you feeling?’ Jess lifted her wrist and checked her pulse. It skipped and fluttered under her fingers.
‘Not good, Nurse.’
‘Oh, dear, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?’
‘Yes. You can stick me on a bus and send me back where I came from!’
Jess smiled as she marked the pulse rate on the chart. ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mrs Briggs.’
‘But I shouldn’t be here! It’s all wrong. I’ve got an old man and five kids at home. I should be there with them, not down here on a bleedin’ holiday!’
Jess looked at her, pale and fighting for breath. She hardly looked as if she were on holiday.
‘What if a bomb drops on them while I’m not there? What’ll I do then, eh? Answer me that.’
‘I’m sure nothing will happen to them, Mrs Briggs. Now, you mustn’t upset yourself. Can I get you a nice warm drink? It might make you feel better.’
‘The only thing that’ll make me feel better is going home to my kids.’ Her voice was jagged with emotion. ‘It’s no good, Nurse. I want to go back to London.’
‘Jago! Come here at once!’ Jess jumped at the sound of Sister Allen’s voice ringing out.
Oh, Mrs Briggs, I know how you feel, she thought.
It was a long day, and she was relieved to go off duty at eight o’clock. But Sister Allen couldn’t resist one last act of vindictiveness, and forced Jess to stay and give the report to the night nurse while she herself sloped off early. As a result, Jess missed the last cart and had to walk the two miles back to the Nurses’ Home.
The other girls had gathered in the Common Room, but Jess went straight to her room. She slipped off her shoes, enjoying the blessed relief after fourteen hours on her feet, then wrapped herself in a blanket and curled up on her bed to write a letter to Sam. She spilled out all her frustration about being stuck in the country, and about the ill treatment she and the other London nurses received at the hands of the spiteful Matron and senior staff. It felt good to get it all off her chest.
She had just finished the letter when there was a commotion outside. Jess hurried down to the Common Room where the other nurses were all crowded at the window in the dark, peering round the blackout curtain.
‘Who is it, can you see?’
‘I can’t see anything, its all pitch black. But it sounds like a lorry.’
‘Why has it stopped here?’
‘What is going on?’ Miss Carrington stood at the door to the Common Room.
Alice Freeman spoke up. ‘Please, Sister, I think we have visitors.’
‘Visitors? Don’t be absurd.’ Miss Carrington went to the front door and flung it open. ‘Hello?’ she called out into the darkness. ‘Who’s there?’
She flashed her torch into the blackness and it illuminated an army lorry at the end of the path, with at least a dozen soldiers in the back of it.
Alice squealed. ‘Soldiers! Oh, my goodness, there are soldiers!’
‘Are they coming here? Quick!’
The other girls started smoothing down their clothes and running their fingers through their hair, still in darkness. Jess went on staring out of the window, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
Two of the soldiers jumped to the ground, then turned to lift another figure out of the back of the lorry. Miss Carrington’s torch beam caught a pair of long, coltish legs as they were lowered to the ground.
Jess heard a shriek of laughter, than saw the mane of unruly black curls, and felt a rush of blood to her head. No, it couldn’t be …
‘It’s a girl!’ Alice Freeman was back at the window, her nose pressed to the glass. ‘And she’s got a suitcase with her.’
Not just any girl. Jess watched her turn and give the soldiers a cheery wave as they clambered back into the lorry.
‘Thanks, lads!’ she called out.
‘Who is it, do you know?’ the other nurses were asking amongst themselves.
‘Never seen her before in my life.’
‘I know her,’ Jess said. Even in the pitch-dark, she would have known that sing-song Irish voice anywhere.
Chapter Six
SHE HURR
IED TO the front door and called out, ‘Effie O’Hara!’
The girl swung round.
‘Jess?’ A grin lit up her face. ‘Jess Jago! Of all people – what are you doing here?’
‘Excuse me!’ In her excitement, Jess had forgotten all about Miss Carrington who was standing beside her. She was puce-faced and looked as if she might explode. ‘Am I correct in thinking that you are the new nurse from Ireland?’
Effie recovered her manners and bobbed a funny little curtsey, wobbling like a baby giraffe on her long legs. ‘That’s me, Sister. Euphemia O’Hara. Do you remember me?’
‘How could I possibly forget you, O’Hara?’ Miss Carrington’s lips tightened. ‘And you arrived here – in that?’ She pointed towards the army lorry as it pulled off.
‘It was the only way I could get here, Sister. There were no more trains until tomorrow, and those boys were kind enough to offer me a lift down from London, so …’ She shrugged expressively.
Effie hadn’t changed, Jess thought. She was extraordinarily pretty, with her milky Irish skin and wide blue eyes surrounded by a cloud of untamed black curls. She was also just as scatty and hopeless as she had been when they’d trained together. She hadn’t even stepped over the threshold and already she was in trouble.
Miss Carrington’s face turned from puce to deathly white. Words seemed to fail her. ‘Come in immediately, and stop making an exhibition of yourself!’ she finally managed to say.
The Home Sister turned to Jess. ‘She’ll be sharing your room, Jago,’ she said shortly. ‘Get yourselves washed and straight into bed, if you please. And that goes for the rest of you. We’ve had quite enough disturbance for one night. We will speak again in the morning,’ she warned Effie ominously.
Effie made a face at Jess. ‘That’s done it,’ she whispered. ‘If I’d known Miss Carrington was Home Sister I would have asked them to drop me up the lane!’
Jess stared at Effie as she struggled out of her coat. She still couldn’t quite believe Effie was here. The last time she’d seen her she was being packed off to Ireland to finish her training, just after the war started.
‘Why didn’t you write and tell me you were coming to England?’ she asked as she led the way down the passage.
‘I did, but the post is so slow these days. My letter probably got lost. Anyway, I didn’t know you’d be here, did I? I thought you were in London.’
‘Miss Fox sent me down.’
‘Me too. I was hoping to stay in London, but now I know you’re here, I’m glad I didn’t.’ Effie seized Jess’s hand. ‘This is grand, isn’t it? It’ll be like old times, sharing together …’ She followed her into their room and stopped dead. ‘Is this it?’ she asked, looking around.
‘I’m afraid so. It’s a bit small, isn’t it? And freezing cold.’
‘Ah, I don’t care. I’m so tired I could sleep anywhere.’ Effie dumped her suitcase on the floor and flopped down on the bed, her legs hanging off the edge of the mattress. ‘God, I’m exhausted!’ She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.
‘What made you decide to come back to the Nightingale?’ Jess asked.
‘You know me. I like a bit of excitement.’ Effie grinned, irrepressible as ever. ‘As soon as I finished my training, I wrote to Miss Fox asking if I could come back to the Nightingale.’
‘And what did your mother have to say about that?’ Jess had heard stories of the formidable Mrs O’Hara, and how protective she was of her girls. Especially Effie, her youngest.
‘Oh, you know …’ Effie’s voice trailed off, then she sat up straight. ‘I nearly forgot, I’ve brought something with me.’ She rolled off the bed and kneeled down in front of her suitcase. Unfastening the straps, she said, ‘We’ve been hearing all about the rationing over here, and how hard it is to get anything decent to eat, so—’
She flung open the case and took out a tin. Inside was a fruit cake, a box of chocolates, and some cheese. ‘There was a bottle of whisky too, but I gave that to the army lads. Come to think of it, I might give the cheese to Miss Carrington as a peace offering, what do you think?’ she said.
Jess didn’t reply. She was too busy staring at the food, speechless. It had been so long since she’d seen such wonders, she could feel her mouth watering just looking at them.
‘I think I must be dreaming,’ she murmured. ‘First you being here, and now all this …’
‘I didn’t want to turn up empty-handed!’ Effie grinned. ‘I thought it would help me make friends with the other nurses.’
‘I’m sure it will.’ Although Jess didn’t think Effie would ever need to bribe anyone with chocolate. She had such a warm, cheerful nature, people were instantly drawn to her.
‘Why don’t we go and fetch them in now?’ Effie said. ‘We could have a midnight feast.’
‘Aren’t you too tired?’
‘I’ve woken up again now. It must be all the excitement.’
The other nurses were only too happy to leave their beds and creep into Jess’s room, especially when they heard there were chocolates and cake to be had. They ooh-ed and ah-ed over the treats, passing them round.
In the middle of the party, Jess noticed Effie had gone very quiet. She looked over to see her friend had fallen asleep on her bed, still fully dressed and wearing her shoes.
She smiled to herself. Now Effie O’Hara had arrived, Jess had a feeling the country wouldn’t be so quiet any more.
Effie jerked awake, her heart racing. For a moment she lay in the chilly darkness, trying to remember where she was. Then she heard Jess snoring softly in the next bed, and felt herself relax.
She had made it. She was really here.
Effie stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t believe she’d really done it. Even as she was boarding the ferry to take her away from Ireland, she’d kept expecting someone to come after her, to try and stop her. It wasn’t until she saw the houses of Dun Laoghaire receding into the distance that she had allowed herself to breathe.
Jess shifted in the darkness and turned over. Effie stared across at her friend’s outline. She couldn’t tell anyone, not even Jess, what had really happened.
She had been disappointed when she’d found out she wasn’t staying in London. Living in the big city had been part of the attraction of leaving Ireland for her. But now she thought about it, coming to the country wasn’t such a bad idea. Effie also knew that it would be harder for anyone to find her buried down here in the heart of the Kent countryside.
If anyone came looking for her. She closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer that they would all forget about her. But even as she said her final amen, she knew it was a forlorn hope.
Sooner or later, someone would come.
Chapter Seven
ON A DAMP Tuesday in December, two days after the Japanese bombed an American airbase in a place called Pearl Harbour, the men from the Office of Works arrived at Billinghurst Manor to dismantle the house.
Millie threw herself into the task of supervising them. All day she went around the rooms making sure that the paintings and precious ornaments were carefully packed for storage and the polished wooden floors covered with linoleum. Curtains and chandeliers were taken down, fireplaces and carved cornices were boxed in, and decorative panels covered with sheets of hardboard. By late afternoon, the house had a strange, blank look to it.
All the while, her grandmother roamed around like a tragic wraith, staring at the bare walls and sighing over the cheap blackout curtains that had been put up in place of the silk brocade.
‘Such a pity,’ she kept saying, until Millie didn’t think she could bear to hear the words any more. ‘Such a terrible, terrible pity. I really don’t know what your father would say about it.’
‘I’m sure he’d want to help the war effort as much as I do,’ Millie replied briskly.
‘We should be preparing for Christmas,’ her grandmother said, ignoring her. ‘Billinghurst always looked so beautiful at Christmas, don’t you think? With an eno
rmous tree in the hall, and holly and ivy festooned everywhere. And candles. Hundreds and hundreds of them, everywhere you looked …’
‘We could have candles at the Lodge,’ Millie pointed out. It wasn’t like her grandmother to be so sentimental. She had barely paid any heed to holly and candles and suchlike in the past. But Lady Rettingham had taken to sighing a great deal, and sniffing back tears when she thought Millie was within earshot. Millie had been upset by it at first, but now she suspected her grandmother was putting it on.
Lady Rettingham shook her head. ‘It won’t be the same,’ she said sadly.
Millie took a deep breath. No, it won’t be the same, she wanted to say. But nothing was the same. Seb was dead and her father was dead, and it was their loss, not that of a few dusty ornaments, that had taken the life out of Billinghurst for her.
‘Yes, well, we all have to make sacrifices, don’t we? Anyway, the Quartering Commandant should be here soon.’ She changed the subject rather than have the same pointless argument with her grandmother again.
‘Quartering Commandant! It sounds like he’s in charge of some ghastly ancient torture.’ Lady Rettingham drew herself up to her full height, as if mentally preparing for battle. ‘I daresay he will try to bully us. But we must stand up to him.’
‘Yes, Granny.’
‘I mean it, Amelia. You mustn’t allow these people to make too many demands. Heaven knows, we have given in to them enough already.’ Lady Rettingham shook her head. ‘If only we had a man here,’ she sighed.
Millie bristled. ‘I’m sure I’m capable of talking to them, Granny.’
‘Yes, but they’d take more notice of a man, don’t you think?’ Lady Rettingham paused for a moment, then said, ‘You know, I really think you should consider marrying again.’
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