The Little Runaways

by Cathy Sharp

  ‘Of course, I’d love to.’ Angela’s eyes lit with laughter. ‘Sally and Mr Markham are taking me out this evening for Sally’s birthday – and Nan is standing in for Mark. Has she told you?’

  ‘Nan hasn’t been to see me this morning. She did give me strict instructions not to leave my bed for three days.’

  ‘Well, I’ll take this list and get on with it … I’ll see you later perhaps. Do please try to get a little rest.’

  Beatrice pulled a wry face as the door closed behind her. People were so well-meaning, but she would rather be here doing something than sitting alone. Idle hands made work for the devil – that’s what she’d been brought up to believe.

  ‘I’m sorry, Carole,’ Sister Beatrice said when she spoke to her senior nurse half an hour later. ‘I appreciate that you are a good nurse, and I’m grateful for what you did for me last evening – but I cannot agree with your remarks about Sally Rush. I’ve spoken to various people about her, and everyone agrees that she is a dedicated and caring girl.’

  Carole couldn’t meet Beatrice’s eyes. ‘Well, perhaps it’s just me she doesn’t like, but I find her hostile and rude. I’m not sure I can work with her.’

  ‘Then perhaps you should consider your future here,’ Beatrice said. ‘I intend to ask Sally if she would consider returning here to St Saviour’s when she has finished her nursing training.’

  The furious expression that Beatrice saw in Carole’s eyes was only there for a very brief moment and had vanished in seconds, and the girl gave her what she could only term as a look of contempt mixed with triumph.

  ‘I do not imagine I shall be here very much longer,’ she said, and tossed her head. ‘I may be getting married soon – although that is confidential at the moment, but I thought you should know.’

  ‘I see … well, in that case I’m sure it will work out well for everyone. May I offer you my congratulations? I hope you will both be very happy.’

  Beatrice was thoughtful as she left the ward and walked back to her office. If Carole left to get married that would solve her problem. Staff Nurse Carole hadn’t really fitted in at St Saviour’s.

  She glanced at the neatly typed accounts on her desk and saw that Angela had balanced the final figures perfectly. So where had she gone wrong? It hardly mattered now and she could only feel glad that her colleague was better at figures than she was.

  Angela sat thinking about the accounts Sister Beatrice had given her. She’d checked the columns against the receipts they always obtained for goods and services and found the correct amounts. At the end of a time-consuming exercise, she’d discovered what had happened – someone had rubbed out the figures Sister Beatrice had entered and replaced them with inaccurate ones.

  The writer had tried to copy Sister’s hand but he – or more likely she – had been too quick and not as clever as she thought. Angela knew Sister Beatrice’s hand very well and she was certain the nun had neither erased nor falsified the figures. Indeed, she had a pretty good idea who had done it, because she’d seen the distinctive handwriting before. She remembered the mix-up with the staff rota. Angela had thought little of it then, but now she wondered just what was going on – especially when she’d discovered the pages missing in the monthly report. Fortunately, she’d kept a carbon copy and was able to type the pages again quite quickly.

  Someone was trying to make trouble at St Saviour’s. Angela was fairly sure it was Carole, but she could not for the life of her think why the staff nurse should do such a thing. However, she would lock her desk drawers in future – and she would watch out for any more tricks the girl came up with.

  FORTY-SIX

  The Dorchester Hotel took Sally’s breath away when the taxi pulled up outside that evening. Of course she’d heard of it, of its reputation during the war of being the safest building in London. The Mayfair Hotel had moved its precious collection of Chinese porcelain here during the bombing, and its splendid dining rooms had played host to all kinds of famous people over the years. Ushered inside to bright lights, polished wood and soft carpets, Sally was glad that she was wearing the beautiful blue dress Angela had given her with some nearly new black suede court shoes she’d managed to find in Petticoat Lane. Her earrings sparkled and she’d brushed back her hair to show them off, feeling proud to be wearing something really good for once in her life – and yet this opulence, this taste of the high life was almost too scary for her to enjoy.

  Andrew put his arm about her waist and gave her a little squeeze, as if he sensed her nervousness. ‘This is what you deserve for your special day, my darling Sally,’ he whispered and she felt pleasing warmth spread through her. Andrew’s touch made her tingle all over. It would be foolish to let her nerves spoil the evening, but she was glad she hadn’t known where she was going. Mum would tell her this was way out of her league. Perhaps it was, but she meant to enjoy her birthday!

  ‘You’re spoiling me, Andrew,’ she said in a soft voice. ‘It’s like a palace …’

  Andrew laughed down at her. ‘Sally, you’re so special,’ he said huskily. ‘It’s no wonder you hit me for six and sent me spinning. I love you so much – don’t ever change, will you?’

  ‘’Course not.’ Sally grinned at him. ‘Where do you think Angela and Nan are?’

  ‘In the coffee lounge or the bar, I should imagine. We’ll just hand our coats in and then have a look for them.’

  Sally nodded, watching as a man and woman swept in with a small entourage and loads and loads of expensive cases. They looked American, wealthy, and as soon as they arrived at the reception counter the woman started throwing her weight around and demanding to know whether they had the best suite.

  Sally had a fit of the giggles, but only shook her head at Andrew. He took her into the bar and they saw Angela and Nan sitting at one of the small tables. Andrew guided her towards their guests, who had been drinking what looked like fruit juices.

  ‘I’ve ordered champagne,’ Andrew said, and smiled at Nan. ‘I’m honoured to have you as my guest. Sister Beatrice says she couldn’t run St Saviour’s without you – and I know my Sally thinks the world of you. Now, if you don’t like champagne you must tell me. I want this to be a treat for everyone.’

  ‘To be honest, I’ve never tasted it,’ Nan said. She was looking smart in a blue tweed suit with a cream silk blouse, her hair brushed smartly into a D.A. at the back. ‘However, I’m always willing to try – this is a night of firsts, Mr Markham. You could have knocked me down with a feather when Angela said we were coming here.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ he said, ‘and do call me Andrew please, Nan. We’re all friends here.’

  ‘You look lovely,’ Angela told Sally, patting the seat next to her. ‘Isn’t it nice here? Do you know I’ve never been to the Dorchester before – John liked the Savoy and the Mayfair, and Nick likes trendy places.’

  Sally sat next to her, feeling much more comfortable now that she was with her friends. Nan certainly wasn’t used to places like this, but she was taking it in her stride, looking about her with interest, a smile on her face. It was meant to be an evening of celebration and she knew that Andrew had gone to a lot of trouble to order a special meal for them. Food was still not plentiful in the shops, but the best hotels always managed to find something decent from somewhere, often game or different kinds of fish, because it wasn’t possible to ration them, and Sally knew that he was very partial to pheasant and venison; she would rather have something more ordinary but she wasn’t going to let on if the meal didn’t quite suit her.

  Andrew’s birthday present had been a gold cross set with tiny pearls on a thin gold chain, which had been a relief to Sally. She loved being with him, loved his gentle smile, his humour and his kindness to the children, but marriage was a big step and she needed more time to be certain of what she wanted. Sister Beatrice had asked to see her in her office the next day to discuss her future, and Sally knew that the time to make up her mind was fast approaching, but for this evening she w
as just going to enjoy herself with her friends.

  ‘I hope you enjoyed your evening, my darling?’ Andrew drew her close as they sat in the front seat of his luxurious car, his breath soft on her face as he kissed her lingeringly. He tasted a little of wine and peppermint and Sally smiled inwardly as she realised he’d sucked a mint so that his breath would be fresh when he kissed her goodnight. He was such a thoughtful man, such a darling, and she did truly love him.

  His kiss deepened and Sally felt her body respond to a new and totally pleasurable feeling that she understood was desire. She melted against him, giving in to the fire racing through her body, making it clamour with the need to be one with him. Little shivers of pleasure went down her spine as his lips trailed her throat and she knew that if he’d asked she would have given herself to him in that moment, but Andrew was too much a gentleman and too thoughtful.

  He drew back, smiling into her eyes as his thumb traced the fullness of her lips. ‘I want to make love to you so much, my darling,’ he said, ‘but I won’t risk your future to gratify my needs. I want to speak to your father and then we’ll discuss getting married. I’d like it to be quite soon, but if you’re not sure I’ll wait for a few months until you’re ready.’

  Sally smiled up at him. A part of her wanted to tell him that she would like to be married as soon as possible, yet another part of her held back. She loved him, wanted to make love with him, but she was still too conscious of the divide between them to say yes just yet.

  ‘I should like to wait for a little while,’ she told him breathlessly. ‘Give me a few weeks to think about it and then I’ll give you my answer.’

  ‘Of course, my darling. I didn’t mean to rush you,’ he said, and drew back. He was still smiling and yet she was aware of a slight withdrawal, as if she’d hurt him by asking him to wait.

  ‘You didn’t,’ she assured him swiftly. ‘It’s just that it’s a little soon for me … I need more time to be sure.’

  Sally didn’t know if she’d made things worse, but Andrew merely nodded, got out of the car and went round to open the door for her. Regret swathed her as she gave him a quick hug and then ran to her front door. She had no doubt that he loved her and she knew he was special, very special – so why hadn’t she said yes immediately?

  Walking down the busy Commercial Street, Sally’s thoughts were mixed. Dinner yesterday had been excellent and she couldn’t remember ever having enjoyed an evening more, but Andrew’s passion in the car had made her very aware that he wanted more than just a few evenings out with her. He had gone away to a conference for a week and in a way, Sally was glad. It gave her a bit of space to think.

  Sally passed an empty space where a large store had once stood, shivering as she remembered the Blitz and then the V1 and V2 rockets, which had been even more terrifying, and caused so much damage in Poplar and Bethnal Green. She’d come shopping because she’d been given the morning off. Mum wanted some special soap and she thought she’d seen an advertisement saying that one of the big shops had had some in.

  ‘I’m buying bits for your sister’s wedding,’ Mrs Rush had told Sally as she gave her three pounds. ‘If you see anything you think Brenda would like, buy it, please. She loves scented soap when we can get it – but a bit of lace to trim a petticoat or anything nice …’

  Sally had taken the money and promised to use it wisely, but she thought the market would be the best place to spend it. There was a large market in Spitalfields but she thought she might go down the Lane on Sunday. All the spivs would be there with their suitcases, and the stalls would be busy with shoppers looking for bargains. New lace was almost impossible to find, but Petticoat Lane often had some good cast-offs from rich women who had lots of good clothes. It was fun to watch the stallholders auctioning things, their patter bright and cheeky as they tried to convince people they were getting a bargain. You had to watch out for the pickpockets, but as long as you kept a sharp eye you were all right.

  Sally reached the shop that was supposed to have some stocks of soap in, but saw the queue was right down the road. By the time she got to the end of it anything good would have gone. It was always the same: if a shop had a consignment of something nice in it was gone in a day.

  She sighed and decided to walk as far as Whitechapel High Street, and then make her way back to St Saviour’s. If she couldn’t find anything worth having she would save Mum’s money and see what was going in the Lane on Sunday …

  ‘Thank you for coming to see me,’ Sister Beatrice said. ‘Please sit down, Sally. I wanted to talk to you about the future and to discuss the possibility of you coming back here to work once you’ve completed your nursing training. If you still intend to take it up?’

  ‘Yes … yes, I do,’ Sally said, and suddenly she saw the way clearly. She had a future here at St Saviour’s and that was what she wanted. Sally’s feelings for Andrew were warm and might even prove to be lasting love, but she wasn’t ready to leave her world behind for his just yet. Perhaps in a few years, when she’d become a nurse and grown more assured, more certain of herself. ‘I shall apply for my training tomorrow in writing – and yes, I would like to return here one day. Even if I marry, I would like to work here until I have a family, and perhaps come back when my children grow up.’ She raised her gaze to Sister Beatrice’s. ‘Am I asking too much of life … wanting it all?’

  She saw that Sister looked pleased. ‘You have ambition, Sally, and that is always good. When you marry it will be up to you and your husband whether you carry on working, but we need dedicated people here and I hope that you will continue to want to work with us. However, it is enough for now that you have stated your wish to return – and remains only for me to wish you well.’

  ‘Thank you, Sister.’ She was going to have to tell Andrew of her decision and hope that he was prepared to be patient. Sally would hate to hurt him, and yet she knew that she had to do this for herself, because she wasn’t ready to be the wife of a man like Andrew Markham just yet. It would overwhelm her, rob her of the certainty of who and what she was. Sally had to grow in confidence, to become a nurse who could help to save lives. Only then would she feel she was his equal, and then perhaps they would stand a chance.

  She just hoped that Andrew could accept her decision, because she wanted to go on seeing him, but her feelings towards him were like the good wine he’d been telling her about last night … they needed to mature and become fuller and more rounded.

  She hoped he would understand. His conference would last a week before they’d see each other again. In the meantime she was going to get her application in to the nursing college.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Mark drove Nancy back to St Saviour’s and saw her inside. This was the second time they’d been to the clinic in the weeks since her brother’s collapse and they’d had a long and helpful talk about her future and Terry’s, and he believed she was feeling a little easier in her mind now.

  ‘Terry is still very ill at the moment, as you know,’ he’d told her. ‘But he is in a safe secure place now and they will take good care of him …’

  ‘Yes, I know he has to be there,’ Nancy said, her eyes filled with tears. ‘But he will be so unhappy and he will think I’ve deserted him.’

  ‘Terry has been violent on more than once occasion and we simply had to remove him to a secure environment. I believe with the right kind of treatment we may bring him back from wherever he has gone, Nancy – but you must understand it will be a long and slow process …’

  ‘But will he ever be well again? Shall I ever be able to bring him home with me?’

  ‘That remains to be seen. The treatment may make him more docile – and quite often patients become accustomed to their home and wish to stay. That is not for me to decide. If various doctors believe him cured, it will be up to you and Terry to make up you your minds – but not until both of you are older and Terry is at least stable.’

  ‘Yes, I understand. You’ve been kind, sir. Letting me see the
room where he’ll be – and the gardens are lovely, so peaceful.’

  ‘You could stay nearby if you wished? I believe the home there is quite nice.’

  Nancy shook her head. ‘I want to stay at St Saviour’s – at least until I’m eighteen. Then I shall see how Terry is and decide what to do for the best.’

  ‘You’re a sensible girl, Nancy. I’m only sorry this had to happen.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault, it was Pa’s,’ Nancy said simply. ‘What happened was terrible and I shall always wish I hadn’t locked that door – but it was Pa’s fault. If he hadn’t been such a brute … none of it would have happened.’

  ‘No, possibly not,’ Mark said, and pressed her hand. As yet he wasn’t sure whether Terry had known what he was doing when he threw that lamp at the door of his father’s room. Perhaps he would never know for certain, because that secret was locked inside the boy’s brain. Indeed, they none of them actually knew that the boy had thrown the lamp, though Nancy thought she’d seen glass from his lamp. However, in the smoke and confusion she might have been mistaken. Only Terry knew for certain and he might never be able to tell.

  And now he really had to speak to Carole …

  ‘Carole – can you spare a moment?’ Mark’s voice made her turn and for a moment her heart raced as she saw him standing there. He really was attractive up close and she’d found herself wishing she hadn’t been so rude the last time they spoke. Perhaps if she handled things right, she might win him back even yet.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked in the soft tone she’d previously used to charm him. ‘I have a break coming up soon, if you can wait ten minutes.’

  ‘I’m not sure I have time,’ he said, and glanced at his watch.

  The action infuriated Carole, even though she was determined to keep her annoyance inside. If he imagined he could just sweet-talk her for a couple of minutes and then sail off into the blue, leaving her behind, he had another thought coming.