The Nightingale Sisters

by Donna Douglas

  ‘It’s probably all this talk of marriage that’s done it to you,’ Sophia laughed. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not nearly as bad as all that. And I’m sure being married to Seb would be a lot more fun than being married to an old bore like Richard!’ She looked up at Millie in surprise as she got to her feet. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Back inside. I’m getting a bit chilly out here.’

  ‘Don’t tell anyone about the engagement, will you?’ Sophia called after her. ‘They haven’t announced it officially yet.’

  There was no sign of Seb when she went back inside. Millie searched for him, but no one had seen him.

  ‘I think he gave Georgina a lift to the station,’ Lucinda Carnforth told her finally. She was firmly clinging to Richard’s arm, basking in the triumphant glow of a woman who had landed her prize. ‘She had a row with Jumbo, who was monumentally smashed, and decided to go back to London.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. Did you see the state of him?’ Richard said. ‘Mother has had him put to bed. One of the servants caught him being sick in the boot cupboard. He really is an utter disgrace.’

  But Millie didn’t care about Jumbo’s fall from grace. She was too worried by the idea of Seb and Georgina heading off together.

  A scenario formed in her mind. Seb had confided in Georgina about the broken engagement, and she had instantly ditched Jumbo. He’d gone off to drown his sorrows, leaving Georgina with a convenient excuse to ask Seb for a lift to the station. And, kind as he was, he would be only too willing to act as her knight-in-shining-armour, unaware that she was planning to seduce him.

  Or perhaps he was aware, she thought with a stab of pain. Perhaps even now they were scheming together about how long it would be before they could decently be seen in public together.

  She felt sick just thinking about it.

  But now she was faced with an even more awkward dilemma. There was only one train back to London that afternoon. She needed to get to the station, but she couldn’t face the thought of seeing Georgina and Seb.

  It was William who came to her rescue. ‘I can drive you back to London, if you like?’ he offered. ‘It seems silly for you to catch the train when I can take you right to your doorstep.’

  It was the perfect solution, although typically her grandmother had something to say about it.

  ‘Are you sure this is quite seemly?’ she queried, when Millie said goodbye to her. ‘I’m not sure it’s proper for an engaged girl to be gallivanting off unchaperoned with another man. What does Sebastian say about it?’

  Sebastian doesn’t care because he’s already gallivanting off with someone else, Millie wanted to blurt out. But she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words.

  ‘It seems like a very practical solution to me,’ her father answered for her. ‘Really, Mother, I’m sure Amelia won’t be cast out from decent society for travelling alone in a car with someone.’

  She felt too sick with misery to speak as they left Lyford and headed back to London, but forced herself to be sociable after a while, for William’s sake.

  ‘How is Phil?’ she asked.

  ‘I have no idea,’ he replied frankly. ‘I haven’t seen her in weeks.’

  She looked across at him sharply. ‘Aren’t you together any more?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s hard to tell with Phil. She’s a bit of a free spirit, you might say.’ His smile had a taut edge to it.

  ‘She sounds like you?’

  ‘True,’ he agreed wryly. ‘I’m just getting a taste of my own medicine. Rather appropriate, I suppose, for a doctor.’ He glanced at her. ‘I must say, although I find Phil endlessly fascinating, I do sometimes wish I had someone more devoted. Like your fiancé, for instance.’

  Millie was sure he hadn’t meant it as a barb, but it pierced through her fragile defences and straight into her heart.

  ‘He’s not that devoted,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Are you serious? He adores you.’

  She turned her head to look out of the window, but it was too much to hope William wouldn’t see the tears that rolled down her cheek.

  He took his eyes from the road, craning round to look at her. ‘Wait . . . are you crying?’ he asked, bewildered.

  Millie shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

  ‘You are!’ He pulled the car over to the side of the road, narrowly missing a horse and cart coming around the bend in the opposite direction.

  ‘Careful! You’ll get us killed.’ Millie covered her eyes.

  ‘Never mind that.’ William twisted round in his seat to look at her. ‘Are you going to tell me what all this is about?’

  She was going to make up some excuse, the way she had with Sophia. But the kindness in William’s dark eyes made her want to unburden herself.

  ‘We’ve called off the engagement,’ she murmured.

  ‘What? Why?’

  She shrugged. ‘We wanted different things, I suppose.’

  ‘But Seb worships you.’

  ‘Then why is he playing fast and loose with Georgina Farsley?’ she blurted out.

  William frowned. ‘How do you know that? Did Seb tell you?’

  Millie looked down at her hands, feeling suddenly foolish. ‘He gave her a lift to the station,’ she mumbled.

  ‘And I’m giving you a lift back to London, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything going on between us!’

  She raised her eyes to look at him. ‘That’s not what Seb thinks.’

  ‘Ah.’ He sat back in his seat, realisation dawning. ‘So that’s it. He’s jealous.’ He raked his dark hair back off his face. ‘I know he’s never been a great admirer of mine, and now I understand why.’

  ‘It’s not just you,’ Millie said. ‘He doesn’t want me to be a nurse any more. He wants us to get married as soon as possible.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like Sebastian. He’s always struck me as a very fair-minded chap, not the kind to lay down the law. Although . . .’ William stopped speaking.

  ‘What?’ Millie asked.

  He looked at her. ‘I suppose if I were Seb, I wouldn’t want to be away from you a moment longer than was necessary either.’

  It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the car. Suddenly Millie couldn’t seem to breathe.

  ‘What are you saying?’ she whispered.

  ‘I’m saying perhaps he has a point?’ William’s dark gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and back again. ‘I know I’ve always had feelings for you, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I don’t. Perhaps I didn’t pretend hard enough? Or perhaps neither of us did?’

  As he moved in to kiss her, Millie knew in her heart she should be pushing him away. But a sudden rush of heat through her body melted her resistance, making it impossible for her to move.

  William was right, she had been fighting this attraction for over a year now. It had been there, a voice whispering to her, ever since that first evening when he’d walked her home along the river. He hadn’t kissed her then, but she badly wanted him to do it now.

  When it came, the kiss was every bit as sweet and wonderful as she’d known it would be. William Tremayne had kissed enough girls to know exactly what he was doing. As his mouth moved against hers, at first gently, then with more urgency, Millie felt herself tingling from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes.

  They finally broke away from each other. William looked into her eyes, his dark gaze searching hers. Then he gave a sad, twisted smile.

  ‘This is the point where you’re supposed to fall into my arms and we live happily ever after,’ he said. ‘But that’s not going to happen, is it?’ She shook her head. ‘Because you still love him.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Millie said wretchedly. She meant it, too. Deep down, she had so wanted William’s kiss to spark the kind of fire deep inside her that Seb’s did. But even though she felt herself to be expertly, thoroughly kissed, more so than she might ever be again in her whole life, it did nothing for her. It didn’t give her the same
thrill as being in Seb’s arms, knowing he loved her beyond everything.

  William moved back in his seat and started up the engine. ‘Typical,’ he sighed. ‘Why is it that when I find a girl I actually care about, she’s already fallen for someone else?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ And she meant it, too. In a way it would have been much simpler if she could just forget Seb and be with William.

  ‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘Seb is a lucky man.’

  Millie looked downcast. ‘Except I’ve made a complete mess of everything.’

  ‘No, you haven’t.’ William patted her arm. ‘He’ll come to his senses, you’ll see. He’d be a fool if he didn’t.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  ‘I am,’ he said. ‘And when he does, you can tell him how he almost lost you to the Nightingale Hospital’s arch seducer.’

  Millie gave him a watery smile. ‘I don’t think I’d dare!’

  They drove back to the Nightingale in companionable silence. It felt a lot easier to be with William now she knew for sure she wasn’t in love with him. He was good company, he made her laugh. But despite his best efforts to cheer her up, her unhappiness over Seb was still there, a permanent ache in her heart.

  But she was determined not to let her low mood affect anyone else, so had managed to paste her brightest smile on her face by the time she’d climbed the stairs to the shared attic room.

  Helen was lying on her bed, still in uniform. She was so tired she hadn’t even taken her shoes off.

  ‘Hard day?’ Millie smiled, unpinning her hat.

  ‘You could say that.’ Helen stared up at the ceiling. ‘How was the christening?’

  ‘It was . . .’ Millie paused, trying to find the right word. ‘Interesting,’ she finished.

  ‘Why? Did my brother manage to drop his new godson in the font?’

  ‘Not quite!’ Millie shrugged off her coat. ‘How about you? How was Sister Hyde today? In a good mood, I hope?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Why? Don’t tell me she missed me?’ Millie turned to smile at her, but the sadness in Helen’s dark eyes gave her a jolt. ‘Tremayne, what is it? What’s happened?’

  ‘I don’t know how to tell you this.’ Helen took a deep breath. ‘Maud Mortimer died last night.’

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  ‘CAREFUL, OLIVER. DON’T go too near the edge!’

  Violet called out to her son as he stood on the path looking over the boating lake of Victoria Park, watching the flat-bottomed boat ferrying passengers across the water. He paid no attention, too transfixed by the sight of the boat moving slowly across the water.

  ‘He won’t be happy until you’ve set sail, will he?’ Sister Blake commented with a smile as she poured their tea.

  ‘It doesn’t look like it,’ Violet agreed ruefully. She had promised him a trip on the lake, after she had fortified herself with cup of tea in the refreshment lodge. Oliver had sat still for all of two minutes until excitement overcame him and he’d begged to be allowed to go and watch the boats.

  The energy of seven year olds never ceased to amaze her. They had already explored the bridges and the model village, and Oliver had run around the park several times, his little legs never failing him although hers were aching with the effort of keeping up.

  ‘I wonder you haven’t brought him here before?’ Sister Blake said, passing her cup over.

  Violet didn’t reply as she added a spoonful of sugar to her tea and stirred it. Seeing the radiant joy on her son’s face, she felt guilty that she hadn’t kept her promise to take him to the park earlier. He had been longing to go for ages, but fear had always kept her away.

  She might have made yet another excuse today had Sister Blake not convinced her to relent as they walked home from church.

  ‘Where’s the harm in it?’ she’d reasoned, and for once Violet decided it might be worth taking a risk.

  She’d taken quite a few recently. She had joined the choir, and made friends with several of the sisters. It was early days, but Violet could feel her frozen heart starting to thaw.

  But she still had to be careful. She couldn’t afford to relax too much, or to give away anything about her past.

  She peered out of the window. Oliver waved back at her happily.

  ‘What a joy he must be to you,’ Sister Blake commented.

  ‘He is my life,’ Violet replied simply.

  ‘Such a handsome little chap, too. And with your dark colouring. Does he take after his father at all?’

  It was an innocent question but Violet stiffened, all her senses instantly on alert. ‘A little,’ she replied cautiously.

  ‘That must be quite difficult for you, seeing him in your son?’

  Violet’s head went back at once. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Only that it must remind you of the pain of losing him.’ Sister Blake frowned quizzically. ‘Why? What did you think I meant?’

  Fortunately she was saved from answering as Oliver came in, pestering yet again to know when they could go on the boat.

  ‘In a minute,’ Violet said.

  ‘But you said that a minute ago!’ he whined.

  ‘Then you must be patient.’

  ‘Tell you what.’ Sister Blake reached into her pocket and handed him a coin. ‘Why don’t you go and buy yourself a toffee apple from the kiosk while you’re waiting?’

  Oliver looked down wide-eyed at the coin in his palm and then up at Violet. ‘May I, Mummy?’

  ‘Very well. But stay where I can see you,’ she called after him as he sped from the café.

  ‘I think between you, Sister Sutton and the other sisters, my son is in danger of becoming very spoilt,’ she scolded Sister Blake.

  ‘He’s become quite the little pet, hasn’t he?’ she said. ‘Even Miss Hanley has a soft spot for him, although she would never admit it.’ She smiled. ‘I’m sure some people think we must be stuffy old maids, all living together as we do. But most of us love children. I daresay some of us would have liked to have had a family of our own, if things had been different.’

  ‘Would you?’ Violet asked.

  Sister Blake nodded. ‘Very much.’

  ‘But you decided to stay a nurse instead?’

  Sister Blake looked wistful. ‘I would love to say I did it out of dedication to the nursing profession, like Sister Hyde and some of the others. But the fact is, my choice was made for me.’ She twirled her teaspoon slowly in her empty cup. ‘The man I loved died during the war.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ How many times had Violet heard the same story? Almost every woman she knew had lost a father, brother, husband or son in the war. Her own beloved father had been killed at Arras, and her brother a year later. ‘Where was he killed?’

  ‘He wasn’t. He was badly injured at Passchendaele. A mortar shell blasted his spine. He lay drowning in the mud of the battlefield until one of his unit found him and brought him home.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘I sometimes wonder if it wouldn’t have been kinder to have left him to die,’ she said bleakly.

  ‘Surely not?’ Violet was shocked.

  ‘You didn’t know Matthew.’ Sister Blake shook her head. ‘That mortar blast did more than break his spine. It broke his spirit, too. He couldn’t face being confined to a wheelchair. He tried to break off our engagement, told me to go and find a whole man, someone who could be the husband I deserved. As if I’d ever want anyone else!’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘I refused, of course.’ Sister Blake shrugged. ‘I had finished my nursing training by then, so I got myself transferred to the specialist orthopaedic hospital where he was being treated, down on the south coast. It meant being away from my home and family, giving up everything I’d ever known. But I would have gone to the ends of the earth for Matthew, I truly would.’ Her eyes grew misty. ‘Perhaps if I’d realised what it would do to him emotionally, having me see him like that, I wouldn’t have been so hasty.’ She looked down at her ringless hands, lacing and
unlacing them on the table in front of her. ‘He killed himself, you see. On the very day peace was declared.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It was a long time ago now. And I try not to dwell on it too much.’ She looked up at Violet, forcing a smile. ‘I’m not the only woman who lost a loved one, am I? You know what it’s like.’

  Violet was stung by guilt as she picked up her teacup and glanced out of the window. Poor Sister Blake, what would she say if she knew that Violet was spinning yet more lies? The more she got to know her and the other sisters, the more wretched Violet felt about deceiving them. They liked her, they had taken her and Oliver to their hearts, and she repaid them with deception. She hated herself for it, and yet she had to go on with it, for Oliver’s sake.

  And then she saw Mrs Sherman.

  Even through the crowds of people enjoying the spring sunshine, Violet’s gaze picked her out immediately. She stood on the far side of the lake, tall and ramrod straight, staring across the water.

  Violet had had countless nightmares about this moment, from which she would wake up bathed in panicky sweat. But this time there was no such escape.

  The world spun, and she dropped her teacup with a crash.

  ‘Violet? Are you all right? You’ve gone terribly pale . . .’ Sister Blake’s voice sounded faint and distant, as if it was coming from the bottom of a well. But Violet was already on her feet, pushing past her and out into the sunshine.

  There was no sign of her son.

  ‘Oliver!’ She screamed his name, looking wildly around her. Several blank, startled faces stared back at her.

  ‘Violet?’ She jumped as Sister Blake came up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘Violet, what is it?’

  ‘I’ve got to find Oliver.’ She started pushing her way through the throng of people, still screaming out his name. ‘Oh, God, where is he? Oliver!’

  ‘Mummy?’ She whirled around. He was standing behind her, clutching his toffee apple.

  ‘Oh, thank God!’ She rushed to him and grabbed his hand, looking around her wildly, expecting Mrs Sherman to appear at any moment like an avenging angel. ‘Come on, we have to go.’