A Nightingale Christmas Wish

by Donna Douglas

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Miss Moreau, but it’s no trouble,’ Mary Lund said.

  ‘But I’d like to—’

  ‘We’ll do it, Miss Moreau,’ Mary Lund said firmly, putting an end to her protests. ‘Nurse O’Hara will look after him, don’t you worry.’

  ‘Why don’t you take a break?’ Effie suggested.

  ‘Good idea,’ Richard agreed. ‘You’ve been sitting here for hours, you need some fresh air.’

  ‘I’d like to stay,’ Adeline said tightly.

  Richard gave Effie a lopsided grin. ‘She’s worried about what I’ll get up to while her back is turned,’ he confided.

  Effie looked at Adeline’s tense, white face. She’s more worried about what I’ll get up to, she thought. ‘I’m sure we can be trusted together,’ she said.

  Finally, Adeline gave in. ‘I’ll be very quick,’ she said. ‘Just a five-minute walk and then I’ll be back.’

  With a quick, warning glance at Effie, she was gone.

  ‘She worries about me,’ Richard said, when they were alone and Effie was feeding him his lunch. ‘I know I’ve put her through hell recently.’

  ‘She seems very – devoted,’ Effie said carefully.

  ‘She is.’ He sighed. ‘Poor Adeline, it can’t be much fun for her, being stuck with an invalid.’

  ‘You won’t always be an invalid.’

  ‘Won’t I?’ He looked up at her, his eyes full of despair. ‘I don’t know how I’ll end up. Even the doctors can’t tell me. They just keep saying, wait and see.’ He attempted a twisted smile. ‘I daresay this isn’t what Adeline had in mind when we got engaged.’

  Effie put another spoonful of food carefully between his slack lips. ‘Do you remember getting engaged?’

  ‘Sometimes I think I do. And other times . . . I don’t know if I’m just remembering what Adeline’s told me. It all gets confused, you see.’

  ‘But you remember Adeline?’

  ‘Oh, yes. That’s the odd thing. I knew her instantly. The moment I woke up and saw her sitting there, I knew who she was. But everything else . . .’ He shook his head. ‘That’s love for you, I suppose.’

  ‘So you don’t remember anything else?’ Effie asked.

  ‘Not really. Nothing at first. But recently . . . It’s as if I’m staring into a thick fog and every so often something will emerge from the mist – a picture of someone’s face, a name. But then they’ll slip away, back into the fog, before I can grasp them.’

  ‘I’m sure it will come back to you.’

  ‘I wish I had your confidence, Nurse.’

  Effie thought for a moment as she dabbed his chin with the linen napkin.

  ‘What about the accident?’ she ventured. ‘Do you remember that?’

  His head wobbled on his shoulders. ‘I didn’t even know there was an accident until the doctor told me. I’ve tried asking Adeline about it, but she won’t discuss it. She says it’s too upsetting.’ He turned to her. ‘Do you know anything about it?’

  Effie paused, wondering how much she should tell him. ‘I know you were in your car, on the Mile End Road.’

  ‘Was I?’ He looked blank. ‘I don’t know why. I’m not sure I’d ever ventured into the East End before. Was I with anyone?’

  ‘Well—’

  Before Effie could say any more, a sharp voice behind her said, ‘That’s enough.’

  She swung around in her seat. Adeline stood in the doorway, her pretty face taut. ‘Really, Richard, how many times have I told you, you’re not to tax yourself and get upset? And you should know better, Nurse.’ She turned to Effie. Her smile was bright and brittle, but Effie glimpsed the angry warning in her eyes.

  ‘It’s not her fault,’ Richard said. ‘She was just trying to help me remember.’

  ‘And you will remember, all in good time,’ Adeline said. ‘But you’re not to try to force it.’ She looked at Effie. ‘Have you finished giving him his lunch, Nurse?’

  Effie looked at the empty plate. ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Then we won’t keep you. I daresay you have a great deal else to do.’

  As Effie left, Adeline followed her into the passageway.

  ‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ she hissed, closing the door behind her.

  ‘I was just trying to jog his memory. Staff Nurse Lund said—’

  ‘Never mind what she said! I know what you were trying to do. You want to ruin things for me, don’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Effie said.

  ‘Don’t play the innocent with me. You don’t approve of me, of what I did. You want to punish me.’

  ‘It’s none of my business.’

  ‘You’re right. It isn’t. So I’ll thank you to stay out of it.’ Then, just as Effie was reeling from this assault, Adeline switched on an appealing smile. ‘You know, there’s no reason why we should be at odds,’ she said. ‘I’m sure things would be a lot easier for both of us if we could be friends, don’t you think?’

  Effie looked at her. She could see from the calculating look in Adeline’s eyes that she wasn’t remotely interested in Effie’s friendship. All she really wanted was to avoid trouble for herself.

  ‘Just as you like.’ Effie shrugged.

  As she took Richard Webster’s tray back to the kitchen, she met Staff Nurse Anderson.

  ‘What do you think of Adeline Moreau?’ she asked. ‘Isn’t she beautiful? And so devoted, too.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Effie gritted her teeth. If she had to listen to one more person telling her what an angel Adeline was, she might not be responsible for her actions.

  ‘Mind you,’ Daphne went on, ‘I’d probably be devoted to someone who had that much money.’

  Effie looked over her shoulder at Daphne Anderson as she stood at the sink. ‘What do you mean? What money?’

  ‘Don’t you know? Richard Webster’s family are rolling in it. Apparently he pretends to be some kind of impoverished writer, but he’s the heir to an absolute fortune, so I’ve heard. That could explain a lot about Miss Moreau, don’t you think?’ said Daphne with a sly smile.

  Effie was thoughtful as she turned back to the sink. ‘I should say it does,’ she murmured.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  WAR WAS COMING. On 15 March Hitler’s tanks rolled into Prague, and now even the government who had insisted there would be no war had to admit that Chamberlain’s scrap of paper meant nothing. Factories began producing guns, bombs, battleships and aircraft, and people began to volunteer as air-raid wardens, ambulance drivers and auxiliary firemen – ‘just in case’.

  On the Saturday morning when the Picture Post called for women to volunteer, Helen was at Dora’s house, helping her to knit a matinee jacket for the baby.

  ‘I’m going to sign up as a volunteer nurse,’ Dora announced as they sat side by side on the sofa, their needles clicking. Helen’s clicked a lot faster than Dora’s. As she’d already told Helen, she was a lost cause when it came to knitting. She had to stop every couple of minutes to sort out a dropped stitch or a tangled piece of wool. ‘They’re bound to have me, don’t you think, with my training?’

  Helen laughed, eyeing her distended belly. ‘In your condition? You’d never get a uniform to fit!’

  ‘I won’t be pregnant for ever. At least, I hope not.’ Dora grimaced, stroking her bump. ‘I can hardly walk, I’m so big. And the kicking! Drives me mad all night, it does. Nick reckons this little one’s going to play for West Ham!’

  Helen caught the light in Dora’s eyes. For all she pretended to complain, she was the happiest and most content Helen had ever known her. ‘It’s not due for another couple of months yet, is it?’

  ‘Early June, so the doctor reckons. You never know, I might have finished this ruddy jacket by then!’ She pulled a comical, cross-eyed face at her knitting.

  ‘Here, let me sort it out for you.’ Helen put down her own needles and took Dora’s from her.

  ‘Anyway, what do you reckon? About me
signing up as a volunteer nurse?’

  ‘I think it’s a very good idea. I daresay we’ll have need of extra help, once the bombs start coming down. Especially if there are gas attacks. Dr McKay reckons there could be hundreds of casualties every night.’

  ‘Don’t!’ Dora shuddered, her face milky pale under its scattering of freckles. ‘I don’t want to think about it.’

  ‘I don’t either, but Dr McKay says we have to. He plans to ask the Board of Trustees to extend the Casualty department and carry out emergency training.’

  She handed Dora back her knitting. Dora stared down at it glumly. ‘It’s a horrible thought, isn’t it? Let’s hope we won’t need it.’

  ‘Let’s hope not,’ Helen agreed.

  They went on knitting, but the thought had taken hold of Helen and wouldn’t let go. She kept thinking of the Casualty hall, extended to the size of a football pitch, with bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. She imagined herself rushing here and there, not knowing who to help first, deafened by the screams of agony.

  The thought must have taken hold of Dora, too, because she suddenly said, ‘I can’t imagine what it would be like, can you?’

  ‘No,’ Helen said, but the truth was she could, only too well. She was haunted by that fire on Christmas Eve, all those people crying out, the stench of burned flesh. She never, ever wanted to hold another dying child in her arms.

  ‘It’s Nick I’m worried about,’ Dora went on. ‘He’s bound to be called up sooner or later. I don’t want him going off to fight . . .’ Her voice trailed off, thick with emotion. Helen looked away and pretended not to notice. Dora wasn’t one to show her feelings very often.

  ‘I know what you mean,’ she said. ‘I’m frightened for Chris, too. Even if he stays on the merchant ships he’ll be risking his life out there at sea.’

  Dora didn’t reply. She’d gone very quiet, her curly red head bent over her knitting. Helen guessed she was still thinking about Nick being called up and sent off to fight.

  She tried to change the subject. ‘Did I tell you, Chris has found another ship? He sets sail for Russia next week. He’ll probably be gone for a couple of months this time.’ She sighed. ‘It’ll be strange without him again. I don’t think we’ve gone a day without seeing each other in weeks.’

  She’d expected some sympathy from Dora, so was taken aback when she said quietly, ‘Perhaps that’s for the best.’

  Helen looked up at her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You said yourself, you’ve been spending a lot of time together.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that? It’s what courting couples do, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, but you don’t want to get too reliant on him, do you?’

  Helen frowned. There was a look in Dora’s eyes, as if she knew something Helen didn’t.

  ‘What are you saying?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s none of my business,’ Dora said quickly, going back to her knitting.

  ‘No, go on. I want to hear what you’ve got to say.’

  Dora let her knitting rest in her lap. ‘I just worry that you’re getting too serious about him,’ she said. ‘You said yourself, he’s going to be away for weeks. I’m afraid he might not come back and then you’ll be hurt.’

  ‘Of course he’ll come back,’ Helen said.

  ‘Are you sure? You know what they say about sailors having a girl in every port.’

  Helen stared at her. ‘Is that all you think I am to him? Just one of his girls?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Dora said. ‘I’m just warning you not to get too involved, that’s all. I don’t want you to get hurt again,’ she insisted.

  ‘Chris won’t hurt me. He loves me,’ Helen declared. ‘And I love him,’ she added.

  Their eyes met for a moment, then Dora went back to her knitting. ‘Like I said, it’s none of my business,’ she mumbled.

  They were silent for a long time. Helen’s needles clicked furiously, in time with the turmoil inside her head. She was so angry, she could hardly focus on the line of stitches.

  How dare Dora be so high-handed! She was implying that Chris was taking Helen for a fool, and that she was pathetic enough to believe he was truly in love with her. Anger burned inside her until she burst out, ‘I don’t know why you can’t just be happy for me!’

  ‘I am happy for you,’ Dora said gently. ‘I told you, I’m just worried for you, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, don’t be,’ Helen said. ‘Charlie loves me, I know he does. And I don’t really care what anyone else thinks anyway, because for the first time in ages I’m not sad or lonely any more.’ She stopped talking abruptly, seeing Dora’s expression. ‘What is it?’ she demanded.

  ‘You called him Charlie,’ her friend said quietly.

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘You did.’ Dora paused. ‘Are you sure that’s not why you’ve fallen for him . . . because he’s Charlie’s cousin?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Helen said, shifting in her seat. ‘He’s nothing like Charlie.’

  ‘No,’ said Dora, ‘you’re right. He’s nothing like Charlie.’

  Helen’s eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t like him, do you?’ The couple of times they’d met, Christopher had gone out of his way to be friendly, but Dora had been decidedly cool in return.

  ‘It’s not that. I hardly know him. And neither do you,’ she said. ‘I’m just worried you’ve fallen for him for the wrong reason. Because you’re lonely, and he reminds you of Charlie . . .’

  Helen’s hackles rose. ‘Do you think I’m some kind of simpleton, falling for a man because he reminds me of my dead husband?’

  Dora blushed. ‘I didn’t mean—’

  ‘But that’s what you just said. You think I’m so desperate and gullible I’d let myself get taken in by the first man who pays me any attention.’ Helen felt her anger rising. ‘Why can’t you be happy that for the first time in years I have someone who cares for me? Or is that something that only happens to the likes of you? Everyone else has someone who loves them, is it so strange I should have someone too?’

  ‘Of course not. Helen, I didn’t mean . . .’

  ‘I know what you meant.’ Helen slammed down her knitting and got to her feet.

  ‘Where are you going? Please don’t leave.’

  ‘I’ve got to. I won’t stay here and listen to you telling me I don’t know my own mind.’

  ‘Helen, please. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business, I shouldn’t have said anything.’

  ‘You’re right, you shouldn’t. And in future, I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of my business!’

  Helen was still simmering when she met Christopher that night.

  They walked down to the docks. It seemed eerie there in the darkness, with the skeletons of the towering cranes silhouetted against the night sky, the dark, hulking shapes of the huge vessels on the inky water.

  It was a cold, starry night and Chris put his arm around her, pulling her close. But for once the solid warmth of his body pressing against hers failed to reassure Helen.

  He turned to her, his handsome profile outlined by the moonlight. ‘What’s wrong? You’ve been in a funny mood all night?’

  ‘Nothing.’ But she couldn’t force Dora’s warnings from her mind. Was she being foolish? Helen wondered. She had fallen headlong for Christopher, without any thought of where it might lead. Now, as they stood together in the darkness, it began to occur to her that he had another life, one she could never share.

  ‘Good, because it’s our last night together and I don’t want anything to spoil it.’

  Our last night. It seemed so final when he said that.

  ‘You’re right,’ Helen said determinedly. If this was to be their last night together, then she wanted to remember and enjoy every minute of it.

  ‘You see that one?’ Christopher pointed out a particular ship in the distance. ‘That’s the one I’m sailing on. The Troubadour, she’s called. In a few days I’ll be in Norway, and the
n off around to Russia.’ He hugged her closer, so she could feel the steady beat of his heart against hers. ‘It’ll be a lot colder there than it is here, I can tell you.’ He shivered. ‘I won’t know what to do without you to warm me up.’

  Perhaps you’ll have someone else in your arms by then. The wretched thought scratched at Helen’s mind.

  ‘Will you come back?’ she asked.

  ‘’Course I will.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Why do you look so worried? You don’t think I’m just going to disappear, do you?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure,’ she admitted, staring down at the cobbled street. ‘I suppose you must have a girl in every port?’ she echoed Dora’s words.

  ‘True. But none of them as special as you.’ He laughed, seeing her dismay. ‘I’m having you on, Helen!’

  She tried to smile, but her face felt stiff and cold.

  He put his finger under her chin, turning her face so that she looked up into his eyes. ‘I wasn’t joking about you being special, though. You are, Helen. You ain’t like any other girl I’ve ever met.’

  She felt herself blushing. ‘I’m not special,’ she mumbled.

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I’m lucky to have you.’ His face grew serious. ‘You might be wondering if I’m going to come home, but I’m wondering if you’re going to be snapped up by one of those clever doctors while I’m gone.’

  ‘Don’t be silly! Of course I won’t be.’

  ‘Are you sure? I’d hate to come back and find out you’d got someone else.’

  She gazed up at him. For once, he seemed deadly serious, his eyes full of intent.

  ‘I won’t,’ she promised.

  ‘All the same, I’d like to be certain.’ A strange feeling came over Helen as he released her and took a step back. She already knew what he was going to do before he sank down on one knee on the wet cobbles. ‘Helen, will you marry me?’

  She stared at him, shocked laughter bubbling up inside her. ‘I – I don’t know what to say,’ she stammered.

  ‘You could say yes? And quick as you like, before this wet ground gives me rheumatism!’

  Well, Dora, what do you think of that? Helen thought. She could just imagine her friend’s face when she heard. And she’d thought Chris wasn’t serious!