‘No, it wasn’t. And I’ve lost my hat.’
‘You look better without it.’ He put up his hand to smooth a tendril of wet hair off her face. His thumb brushed her lips and Helen caught her breath. She was suddenly aware of how close he was.
His eyes met hers. The pupils had expanded, turning his blue eyes almost black. ‘You’re a bad girl, Helen,’ he said softly.
And then he kissed her, and it wasn’t a chaste peck like the kind they exchanged at the hospital gates. It was deep, and urgent, and like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Christopher expertly parted her lips, his tongue invading her mouth, shockingly intimate and terrifying. And yet Helen wanted more. Almost of its own accord, her body arched towards his as his arms went round her.
He pulled away from her, his face inches from hers. ‘Let’s go inside the hut,’ he said hoarsely.
Helen looked up at him, and suddenly realised what he meant. It was as if she’d hit that icy water again, all her drowsy senses shocked into alert.
‘No.’ She started pulling away from him, disentangling herself from his embrace.
He looked bewildered. ‘Don’t worry, the park-keeper ain’t going to find us. We’ll be safe in there.’
Helen risked a glance at him, his shirt clinging damply to the muscular contours of his chest. Safe wasn’t a word she would ever use to describe Chris.
‘I can’t,’ she murmured, looking away. ‘It wouldn’t be right.’
‘Why not?’ He frowned at her, then something in her expression must have given her away because suddenly his face cleared and he said, ‘You mean to tell me you’ve never . . .’
‘No!’ She inched away from him, pulling her coat around herself, wishing she had more layers to swathe herself in because she didn’t like the way his gaze seemed to sear through her clothing.
‘But surely you and Charlie must have . . .’
She felt the heat rising in her face. ‘We wanted to wait.’
He watched her, his expression full of wonder, as if he were seeing her for the first time. ‘I’m sorry, I just assumed—’ His voice broke off then continued, ‘It didn’t even occur to me you were a virgin.’
Helen looked away. ‘I suppose you must think me very naïve?’ she mumbled.
‘Not at all.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’m glad. It just makes me love you more.’
Her startled eyes met his. ‘Don’t say that.’
‘What? I’m not allowed to tell you I love you?’ He grinned. ‘I do love you, Helen. I’d shout it from the rooftops if it weren’t for that damn park-keeper.’
‘You mustn’t,’ she said. ‘It feels like bad luck.’
‘What’s bad luck about being in love? It’s the best feeling in the world.’
She sent him a shy, sideways look. ‘I wish I could believe that,’ she said.
He winked at her. ‘Then I’m going to have to prove it to you, ain’t I?’
Chapter Twenty-Five
IT WAS EFFIE’S final day on Male Orthopaedics, and she wasn’t looking forward to her move. During her stint on Blake she’d grown fond of all the patients on the ward. They were a cheery lot, always laughing and joking among themselves, and she knew she’d miss them. Wherever she was sent next was bound to be dreary by comparison.
And there was one patient she would particularly miss, even though she didn’t want to admit it.
But at least she got the chance to see Adam Campbell back on his feet before she left. His fractured femur was knitting together so well he was allowed to get out of bed, albeit with his leg heavily splinted. After so long without walking he wobbled unsteadily on his crutches.
‘You look like a newborn foal!’ Effie said.
‘Don’t laugh at me.’ He tried to scowl at her, but was so pleased with himself he couldn’t help smiling as he tentatively tried out a few steps, Effie hovering at his side, ready to catch him. Even leaning on crutches he was taller than her, she was pleased to see. At five foot ten in her stout black shoes, it was rare to find a man who didn’t look ridiculous next to her.
‘You’re doing very well,’ she encouraged him.
‘About time, too,’ he grunted. ‘I only wish this wretched hand would hurry up and improve.’ He flexed his fingers, wincing at the pain.
‘Sister says a broken arm can be tricky,’ Effie said. ‘You need to be patient.’
‘Don’t you think I’ve been patient enough, stuck in bed for nearly three months?’
‘If you will go around breaking your bones, you’ve got to give them time to mend,’ Effie replied primly. ‘I think that’s enough exercise for one day. Come and sit down.’ She took his arm to guide him back to the bed, but he shook her off.
‘Just a few more steps – please?’ he begged. ‘You don’t know what it’s like to be able to stand on my own two feet after all this time.’
Effie sighed. ‘Just a few more,’ she said. ‘But try not to put too much weight on that leg. You don’t want to undo all your good work, do you?’
‘I suppose not.’ He allowed her to help him back on to the bed. As she pulled the covers up around him, he suddenly said, ‘Will you write another letter for me?’
‘Of course,’ Effie said, smoothing down the top sheet. ‘I’m sure Sister will let me have the time. Who are you writing to?’
‘Adeline.’ There was a touch of defiance in his voice. ‘And before you start, I don’t want to hear it,’ he added, holding up his hand. ‘I’ve been thinking about this, and I’ve decided it’s the right thing to do.’
‘Is it?’ Effie sighed. Adam had been very quiet about his erstwhile girlfriend since her visit nearly two months earlier, but it was too much to hope that he’d forgotten about her.
‘I know it’s not my place to say anything, but are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, she’s already told you where she stands.’
‘Yes, but that’s the point,’ Adam said eagerly. ‘That’s what I’ve been thinking about. I’ve been wondering what made her say what she did, and I’ve realised it must be guilt.’
‘Guilt?’
He nodded. ‘That’s why she’s staying with Richard, because she feels bad about what happened to him. She knows he’s never going to be the man he was, and she feels responsible. She’s sacrificing her own happiness for his sake.’ He leaned forward, his green eyes full of fervour. ‘That’s why I need to write to her. I need to let her know I understand, but that she doesn’t have to waste her life tied to a man she doesn’t love. It won’t help Richard for Adeline to punish herself.’
Effie looked back at him without speaking. She thought about the tearful girl at her fiancé’s bedside, clutching his hand as if her own life depended on it. Adeline Moreau might not be Effie’s cup of tea, but she loved Richard. It was written all over her face.
Effie picked up Adam’s crutches and tucked them into the corner behind his locker. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t write your letter,’ she said shortly.
‘Can’t?’
‘Won’t,’ she corrected herself.
Their eyes met. An angry muscle flickered in Adam’s jaw. ‘Why not?’
‘Because . . . because I think you’d be wasting your time,’ she said. ‘Adeline isn’t interested in you. I’m sorry if that sounds cruel, but that’s the way it is.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Adam snapped. ‘She loves me.’
His stubbornness wore away at her patience until it snapped. ‘Then why isn’t it your bedside she’s sitting at?’ she said. ‘Why isn’t it your hand she’s holding? Why isn’t she crying for you the way she is for her fiancé?’
‘I told you, she feels guilty—’
‘No, she doesn’t! I’ve seen her . . . seen the way she looks at him. She’s doing it out of love.’
Adam flinched. ‘No! She loves me. She loves me,’ he repeated with quiet insistence.
But Effie saw the desolation on his face and knew he didn’t believe what he was saying.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Campbell, I really
am,’ she said. ‘I wish there was something I could do to help.’
‘I’ve asked for your help and you turned me down.’
‘Only because I don’t want to see you getting hurt any more.’
He turned on her angrily. ‘What do you know about it anyway? You have no idea how I feel.’
‘You’re not the only one who’s ever been in love, you know.’
He looked up at her with eyes like flint. ‘You can’t possibly know how I feel, or how Adeline feels. She’s a sensitive, passionate woman, and you’re just a silly girl.’
Effie held on to her temper. ‘She’s not sensitive, she’s just selfish and vain. When it all became too difficult for her, she tried to stuff you back in the toy box as if your feelings didn’t count. That doesn’t sound very sensitive to me.’
A dull flush spread up his throat to his face. ‘Go to hell.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I said, go to hell. I should never have asked you to get involved. You’re an idiot. You have no comprehension of how intelligent people think or feel.’
Effie stared at him, waiting for him to apologise. But he kept his face averted from hers, his mouth in a stubborn line.
‘And you’re a sulky, spoiled child,’ she hissed. He didn’t react but she knew he was listening. ‘You wonder why Adeline wants nothing to do with you? Look in the mirror.’ She straightened up, smoothing down her apron. ‘I daresay I’m not as well read as you and your friends. I don’t go to political meetings, or quote poetry. But I do know how horrible it is to love someone when they don’t love you back.’
She turned and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster, her chin held high in the air. It was only when she was in the safety of the sluice, with the door closed firmly behind her, that she allowed herself to cry.
Effie leaned against the big stone sink, hugging herself against the freezing February wind whistling through the grating above her head, and wept. She was still weeping when Katie stormed in five minutes later.
‘What did he say to you?’ she demanded.
‘Nothing,’ Effie sniffed, dabbing her eyes on her apron.
‘Yes, he did. It’s written all over your face. He’s upset you again, hasn’t he? I swear, if that man says another wrong word, I’ll – I’ll put cascara in his cocoa!’
‘You’ll do no such thing, Nurse O’Hara.’
Effie looked up sharply. Sister Blake stood in the doorway, arms folded over the bib of her immaculate apron, watching them both. ‘What’s all this? A mothers’ meeting?’ she asked. ‘You’re supposed to be helping with the dressings.’
‘Sorry, Sister.’ Effie went to leave, but Sister Blake stopped her. ‘Not you,’ she said. She turned to Katie. ‘You go. I want a word with your sister in my office.’
‘Yes, Sister.’ Effie caught Katie’s despairing look at her as she slipped past out of the door. Being summoned to Sister’s office was usually for more than just a telling off. And Effie deserved it, too, sobbing in the sluice like an eejit probationer.
But to her amazement Sister Blake had the ward maid bring them a pot of tea. She poured Effie a cup and then handed it to her, together with a clean, lavender-scented handkerchief.
‘Now, what’s all this about?’ she asked kindly.
Clutching her cup in one hand and the handkerchief in the other, Effie told her about Adam Campbell, Adeline and the letter he’d asked her to write. Sister Blake listened carefully, her bright dark eyes fixed on Effie.
‘Well,’ she said, when the girl had finishing telling her tale, ‘it was very wrong for Mr Campbell to speak to you the way he did, and I will have a word with him about it. But,’ she went on, before Effie could reply, ‘I must also say it isn’t your place to decide who he should or shouldn’t be corresponding with.’ She eyed Effie severely. ‘How many times have you been told not to get too close to the patients, Nurse O’Hara?’
Effie hung her head. ‘I know, Sister.’
‘But I think it’s probably already too late to warn you about that in this case, isn’t it?’ Sister Blake guessed shrewdly. Effie heard her sigh. ‘It’s all very well to care for the patients, but you have to stop yourself getting involved in their personal lives. It really isn’t your business, and it can only ever lead to trouble.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
Effie risked a glance at Sister Blake’s face. Her bright brown eyes had a knowing look.
‘I think it’s just as well it’s your last day on Blake ward today,’ she said. ‘Now go and wash your face and smarten yourself up and get on with looking after the other patients. And make sure you stay away from Mr Campbell,’ she added. ‘I will get one of the other nurses to write his letter for him.’
‘Yes, Sister. Thank you, Sister.’
Effie threw herself into her work for the rest of the day. She changed beds, washed faces and bodies, combed hair, scrubbed false teeth, rubbed surgical spirit into backs and liniment into legs.
‘You’re a right little whirling dervish today, ain’t you?’ Mr Anderson commented, as she skimmed around the ward with the tea trolley.
‘Got to keep up, Mr Anderson. Too much to do and too little time.’ Effie smiled brightly at him. ‘Now, would you like some tea, coffee or Bovril?’
‘I’ll have some tea, please, love. And mind you don’t get it wrong like you did last time. I didn’t think much to the Bovril with milk and sugar in it!’
All the patients made her laugh, teasing her about how much they would miss her.
‘You and those sisters of yours are a hoot, the way you argue among yourselves,’ Mr Maudsley said. ‘You’re like Elsie and Doris Waters!’
‘More like the Crazy Gang!’ his neighbour put in. They both roared with laughter and Effie smiled along with them, even though she didn’t have the faintest idea what they were talking about.
And all the time she was aware of Adam watching her from the far end of the ward. She was sorely tempted to pass by the end of his bed, just to see what he’d say to her. But she was even more aware of Sister Blake watching her keenly, and even Effie wasn’t silly enough to risk being summoned to her office again. She didn’t think she would be offered tea and sympathy a second time.
At nine o’clock the night staff came on duty and Effie and the other nurses hurried around finishing off their chores before the end of their shift.
Afterwards, Effie went around saying goodbye to all the patients. Mr Maudsley gave her a humbug as a parting gift.
‘Thank you, but you know we’re not allowed to eat on duty,’ Effie said.
‘Stick it in your pocket for later. No one will know. Besides, Sister’s too busy having a chinwag with the night nurse to notice,’ he said.
Effie glanced over cautiously to where Sister Blake was giving her report to the two second years. Miss Tanner the Night Sister was also with them. Mr Maudsley was right, no one was paying any attention to Effie.
She popped the humbug in her mouth. ‘Don’t tell anyone, will you?’
‘My lips are sealed, love.’ Mr Maudsley leaned forward, lowering his voice. ‘By the way, I think your young man wants to speak to you. He’s been trying to catch your eye this past half an hour.’
Effie glanced over her shoulder. As soon as she did, Adam lifted his hand and waved at her, beckoning her over.
‘He’s certainly not my young man,’ she said.
‘If you say so, love. But he seems very keen to have a word with you.’ Mr Maudsley gave her a twinkling smile. ‘Go on, what harm will it do? Like I said, Sister ain’t even watching. Put the poor devil out of his misery. He’s going to miss you, you know.’
‘I doubt it,’ Effie muttered through a mouth full of humbug.
‘Don’t you believe it, ducks,’ Mr Maudsley said. ‘I was young myself once. I know what young love is like.’
Effie was determined to be cool and aloof as she sauntered over.
‘Did you want something, Mr Campbell?’ she asked icily. ‘Only t
he night nurse is coming on duty, if you’ll wait a minute.’
‘I don’t want the night nurse. I want you.’
‘Oh? Why’s that?’
He blushed. ‘I wanted to apologise,’ he muttered. ‘For earlier. About the letter.’
Effie pressed her lips together and forced herself to say nothing. Cool and aloof, she kept telling herself. She tried to imagine what her sister Bridget would do.
‘You were right,’ he said eventually. ‘I’d be wasting my time. If Adeline really cared about me, she’d be here now.’
Effie looked at his downcast face and forgot all about being cool or aloof. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
He shrugged his uninjured shoulder. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. Sorry – and thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘For putting up with me.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘I know I haven’t been an easy patient.’
‘That’s true!’ Effie laughed. ‘You won’t be able to get away with that kind of behaviour with my sisters!’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘It won’t be the same without you.’
‘You mean you’ll get your bed made properly, and no one will spill your tea in the saucer,’ Effie said.
‘I mean I’ll miss you,’ he said.
Their eyes met. Cool and aloof, Effie muttered to herself, even though perspiration was beginning to prickle at the back of her neck.
Then, just as she thought he was going to make some heartfelt declaration, he added, ‘I must say, I am looking forward to a properly made bed, though.’
Effie grinned, relieved they were back on safe ground, teasing each other again. ‘And I’m looking forward to going somewhere my efforts are better appreciated,’ she said.
‘Do you know where you’re going yet?’
She shook her head. ‘They put the notice up on the dining-room wall. I’ll find out when I go to supper.’
‘I hope wherever it is they like their coffee like soup and their eggs boiled like tennis balls!’ he joked.
‘Whether they like it or not, I expect that’s what they’ll get!’ Effie glanced down the ward. Sister Blake had finished giving her report to the night nurses. Any moment now she would turn around and see them. ‘I’d better go,’ said Effie.
A Nightingale Christmas Wish Page 17
