‘A ridiculous waste of time,’ Maud dismissed. ‘As if shooting hundreds of volts through my legs is going to bring them back to life.’
‘It worked for Frankenstein’s monster,’ Millie said, under her breath. Maud shot her a narrow look.
‘Don’t be impertinent. My limbs may be failing me, child, but my hearing is still intact.’
‘I notice we have yet to try strychnine injections,’ William observed, pulling a pen out of the pocket of his white coat. ‘Perhaps they would be worth a try?’
‘Will they cure me?’
‘No,’ he admitted, scribbling on her notes. ‘But they will slow down the progress of your illness.’
‘Then we will not be trying them,’ she said.
William looked up at her and frowned, his pen poised. ‘I don’t understand? Surely anything that would halt—’ He caught Millie’s eye. She shook her head warningly.
‘Very well.’ He wrote a few words on the notes and handed them back to Millie. ‘I’ve prescribed you sleeping pills,’ he told Maud.
‘Thank you. Now you may go.’ She closed her eyes and rested back against her pillows.
William stared at her nonplussed for a moment. Millie touched his sleeve. ‘That’s her signal for you to leave,’ she whispered.
‘She’s rather a character, isn’t she?’ he commented as they both stepped away from the bed, out of earshot of Maud.
‘You get used to her.’
‘I’m not used to patients expressing opinions on their treatment.’ He looked so shaken, Millie felt sorry for him.
‘Mrs Mortimer has lots of opinions. Most of them at odds with the rest of the world, I’m afraid.’
He gazed around the ward. ‘And are they all like that here?’
‘Most of them aren’t as lively as Mrs Mortimer. Many of them aren’t even aware of what’s happening to them.’
‘Then it must be a very depressing place to work.’
‘I used to believe it was, but I’ve come to think differently. We can’t save these patients, but we can at least make their last days as comfortable as possible. And, you know, some of these women haven’t had any comfort or care from anyone for years.’ Millie glanced sideways at him. ‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘You’ve changed,’ William said admiringly. ‘You’ve grown up a lot since I last saw you.’
She felt hot colour scalding her face. ‘I hope so. But I still do idiotic things sometimes.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. I’d hate to think you were getting too serious.’ He gazed deep into her eyes. ‘How are you?’ he said.
‘I’m very well, thank you.’
‘It’s so long since I’ve seen you. Have you been avoiding me?’
‘Of course not, why should I?’
‘I just wondered if things were awkward between us?’
‘I see no reason why they should be awkward,’ Millie hissed out of the corner of her mouth, aware of Sister Hyde close by.
‘I’m glad to hear it. I’d like to think we could still be friends. Even if you have forsaken me for another man,’ he added teasingly.
Before Millie could respond, Sister Hyde came over to ask William to take a look at another patient, Mrs Little. As she hustled him off, she turned back to Millie and said, ‘Benedict, please make absolutely sure Mrs Church has had a bedpan. I do not want any unfortunate mishaps when the Board of Trustees visit. Is that clear?’
The Trustees were almost an hour late. They arrived in the middle of the afternoon, by which time Sister Hyde was in an even more irritable mood.
‘This is perfectly ridiculous,’ Millie heard her whisper furiously to Staff Nurse Willis as they stood waiting in line to greet the visitors outside the ward. ‘We have work to do and patients to care for. We can’t wait about out here for the circus to arrive.’
‘I’m worried about Mrs Little,’ Staff Nurse Willis whispered back fearfully. ‘Dr Tremayne doesn’t think she has much longer. What if she dies while they’re here?’
Sister Hyde sent her a withering look. ‘What do you suggest we do about it? We can hardly tell the poor woman to hang on until they’ve gone, can we?’
While they waited, Sister Hyde walked up and down the line, inspecting her nurses like a sergeant major reviewing his troops. She picked out a crooked cap here, unpolished shoes and holes in stockings there. Only Helen escaped without a word of criticism, as usual.
Finally, the Trustees arrived, led by Matron. Half a dozen well-fed and very self-satisfied-looking men in suits, a very old lady with an ear trumpet, and Mrs Tremayne.
One look at Constance Tremayne and Millie understood immediately why Helen had been so afraid of her. Everything about her was stiff and self-righteous, from her tightly drawn bun to her buttoned up suit. She wasn’t the head of the Trustees but she certainly acted as if she was, bestowing regal smiles all round.
Matron introduced her to Sister Hyde, who then introduced her to all the nurses. Millie felt her palms break into a sweat as Mrs Tremayne approached, and prayed she wouldn’t want to shake her hand.
‘I haven’t felt this nervous since I was presented at court!’ she whispered to Helen, who stood quaking beside her.
‘How do you think I feel? She’s my mother!’ Helen hissed back.
Mrs Tremayne whisked past Millie with barely a glance, and moved straight on to Helen. Millie felt for her friend as her mother greeted her coolly, her critical gaze moving slowly up and down, looking for faults.
Millie was shocked. She had never had a mother so she could hardly make comparisons, but she treated her maid at home with more warmth than Mrs Tremayne did her own daughter.
As they moved into the ward, Sister Hyde hissed to Millie, ‘Now you’re sure you offered Mrs Church a bedpan?’
‘Yes, Sister.’ No need to tell her Bessie had refused it, she thought. Sister Hyde looked worried enough.
Mrs Tremayne led the way around the ward, while the other Trustees straggled in her wake. She paused at every bed, offering words of comfort to each patient. Sometimes she would reach out a gloved hand and gently touch a shoulder or a fevered brow. She reminded Millie of pictures she’d seen of Florence Nightingale, passing calmly among the war-wounded at Scutari.
And then she reached Maud Mortimer’s bed.
‘And how are you today?’ she asked, her voice dripping with condescension.
‘Dying,’ Maud snapped back. ‘Slowly.’
‘Oh.’ Mrs Tremayne looked confused. ‘But they’re looking after you well?’ she said, recovering her composure.
‘Oh, yes, it’s simply marvellous. We have endless larks in here, as you can probably imagine. In fact, we’re all going out to play a spot of croquet in the courtyard later. Perhaps you’d like to join us?’ She looked up at Mrs Tremayne, her expression bland.
Constance Tremayne stared back at Maud for a moment, speechless. Then, gathering her dignity, she turned and stalked off to the next bed. Millie and Helen glanced at each other and tried not to laugh. Even Sister Hyde’s mouth was twitching as she followed the party.
They were halfway across the ward when Helen whispered, ‘Can you smell something?’
Millie sniffed. ‘No, what?’
Helen shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. Probably nothing.’
‘And who have we here?’ Constance Tremayne said, approaching the next bed.
‘Mrs Church, Madam. Pleased to meet you.’
Millie let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Bessie was in one of her lucid moods. Mrs Tremayne looked gratified to find someone who treated her with due deference.
‘Do you know who I am, my dear?’ She spoke very slowly.
Mrs Church looked up at her with glazed eyes. ‘Someone important, I’m sure.’
‘Well, yes, I am,’ Mrs Tremayne acknowledged graciously. ‘I am Constance Tremayne. I run this hospital.’
Millie stifled a snort of laughter. Sister Hyde scowled at her.
‘I can definitel
y smell something,’ Helen hissed out of the corner of her mouth. ‘You don’t think . . .’
Millie drew in a deep breath, and her eyes widened with horror. ‘Oh, God. No!’
‘Nurses, please!’ Sister Hyde whipped round to reprimand them, then froze as she, too, realised what had happened.
‘In that case, let me shake your hand, Madam.’
‘Let’s move on, shall we?’ Sister Hyde stepped in swiftly.
‘Just a moment.’ Mrs Tremayne pulled off her glove and held her hand out. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Church.’
‘Please.’ She reached her hand out from under the bedclothes and grasped Mrs Tremayne’s as they all watched in silent horror. ‘Call me Bessie.’
It was one of the longest days Millie had ever had to endure. The hours seemed to crawl past, and she began to despair of nine o’clock ever coming.
Sister Hyde blamed her completely, of course.
‘I thought I told you to give Mrs Church a bedpan?’ she hissed furiously.
‘I did, Sister.’
‘Then why didn’t you make sure she used it?’
Millie was condemned to the sluice to clean up her dreadful mistake. But that was the least of her punishment. As she stood up to her elbows in water, soaking and scrubbing, she could only replay the dreadful incident over and over again in her head, wondering if there was anything else she could have done, any way she could have averted the disaster. But every time she saw the image of Mrs Tremayne in her mind’s eye, it got worse.
At least it had brought a rare smile to Maud Mortimer’s face.
‘It serves her right, the patronising witch,’ she’d said. ‘Personally, I think Mrs Church spoke for all of us. I only wish I’d thought of making such a bold statement.’
Finally nine o’clock came, the night staff took over, and Millie could escape. She was hurrying back to the nurses’ home, already thinking of getting into bed, pulling the covers over her head and never coming out, when she met William coming towards her.
‘I don’t see you for weeks, and then I bump into you twice in one day,’ he greeted her with a smile. ‘I hear the Trustees’ visit was – eventful?’
She groaned. ‘Who told you?’
‘Actually, I’ve heard the story three times so far. The last time was from a porter in the mortuary.’
‘Bad news travels fast.’ She looked up at him. ‘How is your mother? Is she very angry?’
‘Her pride is a little dented, but I think she’ll survive.’ He grinned. ‘I just wish I’d been there to see the look on her face.’
‘Don’t.’ Millie closed her eyes briefly. ‘It was horrible.’
‘Look on the bright side.’ He grinned. ‘I don’t think you’ll have to endure another visit from the Trustees in a hurry.’
‘Poor Mrs Tremayne. If it’s any consolation to her, Sister Hyde has made me suffer for my mistake.’
‘Think of it as a lesson to both of you,’ William said gravely. ‘You have learnt to ignore Mrs Church when she tells you she doesn’t need a bedpan. And my mother has learnt never to remove her gloves when near a patient.’
Millie laughed. ‘How do you always manage to make me smile, even at moments like this?’ she asked.
He shrugged. ‘I’m a natural clown.’
‘I think that makes two of us,’ she said ruefully.
‘Then we make a good pair.’
‘Excuse me.’ They turned as a figure stepped out of the shadows. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything?’ a familiar voice said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘SEB!’ MILLIE BROKE away from William and rushed into her fiancé’s arms, full of excitement. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I wanted to see you on my birthday. And I knew you were working, so I thought I’d come for a quick visit.’ His gaze was fixed on William as he spoke.
‘What a wonderful surprise! You can’t imagine how pleased I am to see you.’ Millie hugged him fiercely.
‘Are you really?’
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’ She pulled away from him, still smiling. ‘You know William, don’t you?’
‘Indeed we have met.’ William held out his hand in greeting. ‘Nice to meet you again. Happy birthday, by the way.’
‘Thanks.’ Seb seemed rather cool as he shook hands.
‘I’d better be on my way,’ William said. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting some friends at the Café de Paris.’
‘Gosh, that sounds like fun.’
‘Why don’t you join us? If you have no other plans, that is?’
Millie turned to Seb, her weariness forgotten. ‘Shall we? I’m off duty now and it would be marvellous to spend some time with you on your birthday.’
He looked at his watch. ‘Don’t you have to be in bed for lights out in an hour?’
‘Since when has that ever stopped me?’ Mille grinned.
‘I think what your fiancé is hinting is that he’d rather be alone with you,’ William suggested tactfully.
‘Nonsense, he loves the Café de Paris. You do, don’t you, Seb?’ Millie seized his hand. ‘Please? I could do with having a good time, after the beastly day I’ve had. Oh, do let’s! It will be fun.’
Seb’s smile was tight. ‘Why not?’
The Café de Paris was like an opulent sultan’s palace, resplendent in gilt and red velvet, with its double sweeping staircases and sensuously curved balcony. It was hot and crowded with people all drinking, eating, dancing and generally enjoying themselves.
Millie breathed in the overheated air, scented with cigars, alcohol and French perfume. She could feel the atmosphere, charged with excitement, tingling through her veins as the maître d’ showed them to their table.
‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ She smiled over her shoulder at Seb, but her words were lost amidst the sounds of laughter, music and clinking glasses.
William’s new girlfriend was waiting for them with another group of people. She was as tall as him, and dressed dramatically in flowing black silk evening pyjamas. She had made no effort with her hair, letting it fall in wild waves around her face. In one hand she held a glass, and in the other a long cigarette holder.
‘She looks as if she’s ready for bed,’ Seb whispered close to Millie’s ear.
William introduced her as Philippa Wilde. ‘But everyone calls me Phil,’ she added. Her voice was as firm and full of confidence as her handshake.
Her brows rose a fraction when William introduced Millie and Seb. ‘So you’re the famous Millie, are you? I’m pleased to meet you at last.’ Her bronze eyes assessed her. Millie didn’t understand why, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.
They sat down and ordered cocktails. They drank and chatted for a while, their voices battling over the sound of the music and laughter around them.
‘Will tells me you’re training to be a nurse?’ Phil said to Millie. ‘Why didn’t you want to be a doctor?’
She blushed. ‘I don’t think I’m clever enough for that.’
‘Nonsense! You don’t have to be clever. Look at William.’ She pinched his cheek affectionately. He laughed, and kissed her hand.
Millie frowned. Will obviously found his girlfriend’s directness charming, but Millie thought it plain rude.
Then, suddenly, Phil leant across to Seb and said, ‘I suppose you know William has a huge crush on your fiancée?’
‘Phil!’ William protested.
‘What? It’s true, isn’t it?’ She turned back to face Seb. ‘You should see him when he talks about her. He gets terribly tongue-tied.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Millie mumbled, mortified.
‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised,’ Seb replied smoothly. ‘Who wouldn’t be in love with Millie?’
She smiled at him gratefully, but he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was wandering around the busy restaurant, searching for the waiter to order more drinks.
‘And what do you do, Sebastian?’ Phil asked.
He stared
down at his glass. ‘Not much, really.’
‘He’s a writer,’ Millie put in proudly.
‘Really? How fascinating. Might I have read anything you’ve written?’
‘Not unless you read the diary columns.’
‘He’s going to be very famous one day,’ Millie said loyally.
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ he mumbled.
‘It doesn’t matter really, does it?’ Phil shrugged. ‘If your career doesn’t amount to anything, surely your father must have a spare castle you can live in?’
‘I’m sure he does.’ Seb drained his glass and signalled to the waiter again.
‘You must forgive Phil,’ William apologised for her. ‘She does tend to become rather socialist after a few drinks.’ He took the glass out of her hand and put it down on the table. ‘Come on, let’s dance.’
‘But I was talking to Sebastian!’
‘I’m not sure he wants to talk to you. Come along.’ He stood up, drawing her to her feet.
Millie watched him leading her between the tables towards the dance floor. ‘What an awful girl,’ she said. ‘I can’t think what William sees in her.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll always prefer you.’
She swung round, frowning. ‘You don’t believe that nonsense, do you? She didn’t know what she was talking about. William and I are just friends.’
‘You seemed very close when I arrived earlier?’
Millie laughed, until she saw Seb’s blue eyes regarding her seriously over the rim of his glass.
‘He was only trying to cheer me up, that’s all.’
‘If you say so.’
They sat in silence, watching the dancers on the floor. Millie’s eyes were drawn to William and Phil. She danced sensuously, winding herself around him, her body melting into his. He held on to her, laughing at her uninhibited display. Millie envied them their closeness. She was beginning to feel the distance between herself and Seb stretching like the frozen wastes of the Arctic.
It wasn’t fair, she thought. She’d only suggested they join William because she wanted Seb to have some fun. But instead he was grimly downing drinks as if determined to blot out the whole evening.
The Nightingale Sisters Page 20
