A Nightingale Christmas Wish

by Donna Douglas

  But now she wondered if she’d got it wrong. What if Adeline visited some other café? This was the closest one to the hospital, but it was nearly half-past one and she should have been here by now, if she was coming.

  Typical, Effie thought, toying with her teaspoon. This would be the one day Adeline decided to break her routine and stay at her fiancé’s bedside.

  And what was she going to say if the girl did come? Effie had mentally rehearsed a million ways to say what she had to say, but nothing sounded quite right.

  She wondered what her sisters would think about it. Katie would probably pretend to disapprove, but then she’d want to hear all about it. And Bridget would have a fit and march Effie straight to Matron herself.

  But she wasn’t doing anything wrong. It wasn’t as if she’d fallen in love with a patient. Exactly the opposite – she was trying to reunite him with someone else.

  It was a noble thing she was doing, Effie decided. She was being a good nurse, trying to heal Adam Campbell’s broken heart for him. Florence Nightingale herself would probably approve.

  Except she’d completely wasted her time.

  But then, as she was fumbling in her purse to pay, she glanced up and caught a flash of red crossing the street towards the café. A moment later the door opened and Adeline walked in, swathed in her crimson coat, a feathered hat on her sleek blonde head.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Effie said to the proprietor, as she sat back in her seat. ‘I will stay, after all.’

  She watched as Adeline sat down at her table and waved at the proprietor.

  ‘Usual, love?’ he called across to her.

  ‘Yes, please, Lou.’ Adeline smiled back at him. She was very beautiful, Effie thought, with dark, almond-shaped eyes, flawless porcelain skin, and what Effie’s mother would call ‘good bones’. No wonder everyone seemed to be in love with her. Even the grumpy café proprietor seemed charmed as he placed a pot of coffee in front of her.

  Effie breathed in the rich aroma. Coffee seemed terribly sophisticated, just like the stylish clothes Adeline wore. She dressed to be noticed, in colourful floaty layers, her blonde hair caught up in a silk scarf.

  Effie picked up her own cup and clumsily slopped cold tea into the saucer. The thought of confronting Adeline made her feel ill. But the thought of not confronting her, of going back to the ward and seeing Adam Campbell’s sad, wistful face, worried her even more.

  All her carefully rehearsed lines deserted Effie as she put down her cup, rose to her feet and made her way across the café.

  Adeline was reading a book. She looked up with a smile as Effie approached.

  ‘Can I help you?’ she said. Then, as Effie struggled to speak, she added, ‘We’ve met, haven’t we?’

  ‘I’m a nurse at the Nightingale,’ she said.

  A small frown gathered between Adeline’s perfectly shaped brows. Then she nodded. ‘Of course, I remember now. You came to see Richard.’ She put down her book. ‘Won’t you sit down?’ she offered.

  Effie stared at the empty chair, momentarily nonplussed. In all her imaginary conversations, she hadn’t expected Adeline to be quite so charming.

  In the end, she pulled out the chair and plonked herself down in it. ‘How is Mr Webster?’ she asked.

  ‘He’s improving every day, thank you.’ Adeline smiled, showing perfect white teeth. ‘He’s sitting up and talking, which the consultant thinks is nothing short of a miracle, considering . . .’ Her voice trailed off and she looked troubled.

  ‘Does he remember anything about the accident?’

  Adeline shook her head. ‘Nothing at all. He has no memory of anything up to the moment he woke up. We’re having to piece everything together very slowly for him. Although he remembers me, thank God!’ She smiled.

  ‘What about Adam? Does he remember him?’

  The smile faded from Adeline’s face. ‘How do you know Adam?’

  ‘He’s a patient on my ward.’

  Adeline didn’t react, but Effie noticed her hands shaking slightly as she topped up her coffee cup.

  ‘The Almoner’s office wrote to you. And so did he,’ Effie said.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Why didn’t you reply?’

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Because you’re engaged to someone else?’

  ‘Something like that.’ Adeline sipped her coffee, her gaze fixed on a distant point beyond Effie’s shoulder.

  ‘Does he know you’re engaged to Richard?’ Effie asked.

  ‘Of course he knows!’ Adeline snapped, turning her dark gaze to meet Effie’s. ‘Richard and Adam are – were – best friends.’

  ‘Until you came along?’ Effie guessed.

  Adeline’s mouth tightened. ‘I told you, it’s complicated,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘I’d like to try.’

  She put down her cup. ‘I suppose Adam sent you? Did he ask you to plead his case for him?’

  ‘Actually, he doesn’t know I’m here.’

  ‘So why did you decide to come?’

  ‘Because I feel sorry for him.’

  ‘Do you?’ Adeline’s brows lifted. ‘Is that the only reason, I wonder?’

  Effie felt herself blushing. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d fallen for him. I suppose it was bound to happen. He’s an attractive man, after all. It’s very easy to fall for someone like Adam Campbell. I should know,’ she murmured.

  ‘What happened between you?’ Effie asked.

  ‘That’s none of your business.’

  ‘It is my business,’ Effie insisted. ‘I’m worried about him. He’s upset and pining for you, and that’s not helping him to get better.’

  Adeline shot her a quick glance, and Effie caught the flash of something like smugness in her expression before her eyes hardened again. ‘Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t help,’ she said shortly. ‘Adam has caused far too much trouble already, and the last thing I want to do is encourage him any more.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Look, I understand you’re trying to help, but you really don’t know anything about it,’ Adeline interrupted her. ‘I made a terrible mistake with Adam. It was supposed to be a harmless flirtation, nothing more. But he took it all too seriously.’

  ‘You had an affair behind your fiance’s back, and Adam fell in love with you,’ Effie guessed.

  Adeline gave a slight shrug. ‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘But it wasn’t supposed to be that way,’ she insisted. ‘I thought he understood . . . but then he suddenly announced that he wanted to tell Richard about us. He wanted to do the right thing, he said. Reckoned he felt wretched lying to his best friend.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘He acted as if ours was some great, doomed love affair.’

  Effie stared at Adeline’s beautiful, petulant face and fought the urge to slap it. Then a thought occurred to her.

  ‘Do you suppose that’s what caused the accident?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m afraid it must have been.’ Adeline picked at her thumbnail. ‘Richard was an excellent driver, he would never have lost control like that, unless – I’m afraid he might have tried to kill them both because he thought he’d lost me,’ she sighed.

  Effie gazed at her. In a strange kind of way, Adeline seemed to be enjoying the drama surrounding her.

  ‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘nearly losing him brought me to my senses,’ she said. ‘It made me realise how much I truly love him.’

  ‘And what about Adam?’ Effie said.

  ‘What about him?’ Adeline eyed her coldly. ‘As far as I’m concerned, he’s the reason Richard nearly died. He tried to take away everything I care about. I want nothing more to do with him.’

  ‘Don’t you think you should tell him that?’

  ‘I didn’t reply to his letter. Surely that should tell him everything he needs to know?’

  ‘He deserves better than that. You should write back to him, tell him where he stan
ds. He’s breaking his heart, wondering what he’s done to upset you.’

  ‘You tell him, then, since you’re so concerned about him.’ Adeline’s dark eyes flashed.

  Effie stared at her. Adeline was the cause of all this, not Adam. She’d played with two men’s hearts, set them against each other, and when it all went wrong she’d tried to step away from it on those dainty, expensively shod little feet of hers.

  ‘I’m not doing your dirty work for you,’ said Effie. ‘The least you can do is tell him face-to-face.’

  ‘I’m tired of listening to you.’ Adeline pulled a ten-shilling note out of her purse and put it on the table. ‘I have to go back to the hospital. Richard will be wondering where I am.’

  ‘So is Adam,’ Effie said pointedly.

  As Adeline went to leave, Effie blurted out, ‘I could tell him, you know.’

  Adeline froze. ‘What?’

  ‘I could tell Richard about the accident – the real reason he crashed.’

  The colour drained from Adeline’s face. ‘You wouldn’t!’

  ‘You never know, do you?’ Effie shrugged. ‘Promise me you’ll go and see Adam? Please?’ she begged.

  Adeline shot her a sulky look. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  SNOW FELL HEAVILY on New Year’s Eve, burying the streets of the East End under another deep white blanket. But in spite of the freezing winds and leaden skies, the Casualty hall was still crowded with people who had trudged through the winter night. They huddled around the crackling fire, warming swollen, chilblain-covered hands, men and women and children, all muffled in layers of scarves, coats and woollen hats.

  Helen stood at the booking-in desk and listened to the chorus of deep, chesty coughing that rattled around the high-ceilinged hall. Bronchitis and chest infections were always rife in the East End, with its damp houses and air thick with factory smoke. But when the cold weather set in it was even worse. She’d lost count of the number of patients they’d sent up to the medical wards. Sister Everett had already telephoned down to tell them she’d had to put in extra beds. Any more and they’d be sleeping in the passageways.

  ‘We should just send them away.’ Penny Willard seemed to read her thoughts. ‘Tell them to go home and sit by their own fires.’

  ‘Some of them don’t have fires to go home to,’ Helen reminded her.

  Penny shrugged. ‘It’s not our problem if they can’t look after themselves, is it?’

  But it wasn’t just the patients who couldn’t look after themselves. In the middle of the afternoon, Helen was summoned to Matron’s office.

  ‘I’m afraid we have had several nurses admitted to the Sick Bay with chest infections, including the student assigned to night duty in Casualty,’ she said. ‘Miss Tanner and I are doing our best to find other nurses to cover for them, but I’ve also had to assign extra help to the medical wards, as we’ve had so many new admissions recently.’ She looked up at Helen, her grey eyes serious. ‘It may be that we’ll have to close Casualty tonight, if we can’t find cover.’

  ‘But what about emergencies, Matron?’ Helen asked.

  Miss Fox shook her head. ‘They’ll have to go elsewhere. Miss Tanner has offered to fill in, but given the situation I daresay she will already be very busy with other wards.’ She paused. ‘Of course it would be better if we could stay open for ambulances, especially as New Year’s Eve tends to be rather busy. But if we don’t have the staff to cope . . .’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Helen said.

  Matron frowned. ‘You, Sister?’

  ‘If I go off duty now, I can have a few hours’ rest and be ready for night duty at nine o’clock. If that will help?’

  Matron frowned. ‘I can’t deny it would, but surely you already have plans for this evening?’

  ‘I can cancel them,’ Helen said promptly.

  Miss Fox sat back in her chair and considered her. ‘Are you sure, Sister? When I summoned you, I wasn’t expecting you to give up your free time. I merely wanted to apprise you of the situation.’

  ‘I appreciate that, Matron. But I would rather keep Casualty open, if you don’t mind?’ Helen replied. ‘As you’ve said yourself, New Year’s Eve is a very busy time. I wouldn’t like to think of someone being denied treatment or having to find their way to a hospital further afield, when they could be seen here.’

  ‘Very well.’ Matron smiled. ‘In that case, I will inform Miss Tanner, I’m sure she will be very relieved. Between ourselves, the poor woman is tearing her hair out!’ she confided.

  ‘Thank you, Matron,’ Helen said.

  ‘No, Sister Dawson. Thank you,’ Miss Fox said warmly. ‘You’ve done the hospital a great favour.’

  Helen felt a pang of guilt as she hurried back to Casualty. Matron had acted as if Helen had made a supreme sacrifice, but the fact was she had been looking for an excuse not to go out with Christopher. The thought of spending time with him unnerved her. He attracted her like the flames of a blazing fire on a freezing cold night. But like a fire, he had the power to burn. It was far safer to keep her distance than to get hurt.

  She went back to the Casualty hall and left instructions for Penny Willard and the students in her absence, then returned to the sisters’ home. On the way, she left a quick note at the Porters’ Lodge to explain to Christopher why she couldn’t meet him.

  You’re a coward, Helen Dawson. The thought ran through her mind as she sealed up the envelope. There was nothing to stop her going to see Christopher and telling him face-to-face. Nothing except her own fear that if she saw him again she might realise she was making another terrible mistake.

  On the evening of New Year’s Eve, David McKay went to visit his sister Clare and her family in Middlesex. Much as he loved his elder sister and her children, it wasn’t a visit he generally looked forward to.

  They made a strained group as they sat around the dinner table. His niece and nephew sat at the far end, heads down, eating in silence.

  ‘You two are very quiet.’ David smiled at them.

  ‘We don’t encourage talking at the table,’ their father Graham said sternly.

  David ignored him. ‘How are you getting on at school?’ he asked his nephew. ‘Still mad on sport, are you? I remember you were keen to get into the cricket team?’

  Philip, eight years old and the younger of the two, turned large, fearful eyes to his sister. She shook her head at him.

  ‘How about you, Beth?’ David turned to her. ‘How are your studies going? Do you still want to be a doctor when you grow up?’

  ‘You may leave the table, if you’ve finished,’ their father cut across him brusquely. ‘Go and get ready for bed, then you can come back down and say goodnight. Quietly, please,’ he added.

  They slipped off their chairs and hurried out, eager to escape. David listened to their footsteps scuttling up the stairs and their voices, whispering to each other.

  He turned to his brother-in-law, seated like a king at the head of the table, stern-faced. ‘I haven’t had a chance to talk to them properly.’

  ‘I told you, I don’t allow talking at the table.’ Graham gave him a small, tight smile. ‘Really, David, I don’t appreciate your encouraging my children to break the rules.’

  ‘They’re hardly running amok,’ he pointed out.

  ‘Nevertheless, they are my rules,’ Graham stated firmly.

  David glared at him in dislike. There had never been any love lost between the two men. Graham was a schoolmaster, fifty years old and once handsome but now running to seed. His body was soft and paunchy, face falling into jowls either side of his mean little mouth.

  David glanced at Clare, picking at her food. He scarcely recognised his beautiful, vivacious sister any more. Twenty years of marriage to a miserable older man had turned her into a nervous wreck.

  Graham dabbed his lips with his napkin and leaned back in his seat. ‘Anyway, I expect you will have a chance to run riot with them while I’m out,’ he
said.

  Clare glanced up at him. ‘You’re going out?’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you? My friend Roger telephoned me this morning. You remember Roger, don’t you? We were at college together. He’s in town for the evening, and wants us to meet for a drink.’

  David looked at Clare. Her gaze still fixed on her plate, she said timidly, ‘But I’d hoped we might all spend the evening together, as it’s New Year’s Eve?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve made other plans.’ There was a hard edge to Graham’s voice that David didn’t like. ‘Besides, you’ve got your brother to keep you company, haven’t you?’

  David caught sight of his sister’s disappointed expression. ‘I have an idea,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you two go and meet your friend together? I could look after the children.’

  ‘I’m sure Clare doesn’t want to spend the evening listening to my friend and me reminiscing about the old days!’ Graham gave a forced laugh, but his eyes glittered with anger.

  ‘Nonsense, a night out would do her the world of good.’ David turned to his sister. ‘What do you think, Clare?’

  ‘Well, Clare?’ Graham’s voice had a hard edge to it. ‘Answer your brother.’

  Clare hesitated a fraction too long for David’s liking. ‘Graham’s right,’ she murmured finally.

  ‘You see?’ he said. ‘Really, David, as if we would be so ill-mannered as to invite you for dinner and leave you to mind the children while we go out!’

  David started to reply, but saw his sister’s warning look and said nothing.

  Half an hour later Graham had left. As soon as he’d gone out, it was as if a heavy cloud had lifted. Beth and Philip came back downstairs, freshly scrubbed, in their nightclothes and slippers. David noticed the way they looked around anxiously before they came in, as if to satisfy themselves that their father was really gone, before they allowed themselves to relax.

  Clare seemed more at ease, too. ‘Have you washed properly?’ she asked the children, putting her arms around them.

  ‘Yes, Mother.’

  David turned to Beth and said, ‘Are you sure you’ve washed behind your ears?’