A Nightingale Christmas Wish

by Donna Douglas

  Before Kathleen could answer, Sister Wren appeared, looking flustered.

  ‘Mrs Maloney, what are you doing in here?’ she demanded in shocked tones.

  ‘Keep your knickers on, Sister, I was just making Kathleen a cup of tea.’

  Sister Wren shot Kathleen an anxious glance. ‘Really, you know you’re not allowed out of bed.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I can’t think what’s got into you, I really can’t. As if I would ever allow patients to wander the wards willy-nilly, helping themselves to refreshments!’ Sister Wren muttered, hastily ushering her towards the door.

  Vera turned back to Kathleen. ‘I’ll pop down again later, love, then we can have a proper chinwag,’ she called over Sister Wren’s shoulder.

  ‘You’ll do no such thing!’ Sister Wren mumbled a quick, embarrassed apology to Kathleen before she disappeared.

  Kathleen lay back against the pillows and listened to the ward sister and Vera arguing all the way back up the ward. She smiled to herself. Perhaps Wren ward wouldn’t be such a dull place after all.

  Frannie had just returned to the sisters’ home that night after a busy shift when she was met in the doorway by an irate Miss Hanley.

  ‘There you are, Miss Wallace. I’m very glad you’re here at last. Someone has just telephoned for you.’

  ‘For me?’

  The Assistant Matron nodded. ‘And very persistent he was, too. Called four times in the last hour. I told him you wouldn’t return until after nine o’clock, but I’m sure he didn’t believe me. I was sorely tempted not to answer after the third time.’ She looked most put out.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Frannie said absently, but her mind was already racing. ‘Who was it?’ she asked.

  Miss Hanley handed her a piece of paper. ‘I’ve written it all down here. He was most insistent that you should contact him as soon as possible.’ She eyed the telephone balefully. ‘I expect he’ll ring up again in a minute.’

  But Frannie wasn’t listening. She was staring at John’s name and telephone number, written out in Miss Hanley’s careful copperplate script.

  He answered on the first ring. ‘Campbell.’

  A thrill went through Frannie when she heard his familiar deep voice again. She took a steadying breath. ‘John, it’s Frannie.’

  ‘Oh, thank God. I wasn’t sure if you were avoiding me.’

  I could say the same to you, she thought. ‘I must say, I’m surprised to hear from you after all this time.’

  She heard his heavy sigh. ‘I know – I’m sorry. I tried to stay away, but then I realised I couldn’t.’

  ‘Why, John? Why would you want to stay away?’ Even though she wanted to, Frannie couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.

  ‘It’s difficult to explain.’ There was a long pause, and she could sense him groping for the right words. ‘There are things about me . . . things I couldn’t tell you.’

  Her blood ran cold. ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘It’s easier if I see you. Then I can explain.’ He paused. ‘May I see you, Frannie?’

  She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him she’d wasted enough heartache on him. She felt as if she were on the edge of a precipice, about to dive in. She took a deep breath.

  ‘When?’

  He sighed with relief. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I’m not making any promises,’ she said. ‘I just want to know the truth.’

  There was a long silence. ‘The truth,’ he promised. ‘All of it.’

  Chapter Forty

  VERY FEW PEOPLE ever dared to disagree with a hospital consultant. So when the neuro-spinal expert Mr Masters had decreed that Richard Webster would never get out of bed, would never be able to speak or use his hands again, it didn’t occur to anyone to disagree with him.

  But Richard Webster had done the unthinkable. He had defied doctor’s orders and made an excellent recovery. His memory was still patchy and his speech a little slow, and he had allowed Mr Masters the slim satisfaction of being right about the need for a wheelchair, but in most other respects he was back to normal. Now, on a warm day in late May, he was ready to go home.

  Effie was pleased for him as she packed up the belongings from his locker. But she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, too. He was such a nice young man, and she knew the future wouldn’t be easy for him.

  Richard was still optimistic about it. ‘At least I’m alive, which is more than anyone expected,’ he grinned. ‘And it’s more than I deserve, too, after what I did. I still can’t imagine what possessed me to take the car out on such a filthy night. And to be driving so fast, too – it doesn’t make any sense to me.’ He looked troubled.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about it, darling.’ Adeline, as usual, was quick to step in. ‘It doesn’t matter why it happened, does it? As long as you’re getting better.’

  ‘I suppose not. I just wish I could remember, that’s all.’ Richard sighed. ‘Oh, well, I daresay it will come back to me one day.’

  Adeline caught Effie’s eye and looked away guiltily. Effie wondered how long she could go on brushing the truth about the accident under the carpet. It seemed very cruel that she was keeping the truth from him just to save herself.

  Effie had tried to talk to her about it, but Adeline wouldn’t listen.

  ‘You owe it to him to tell him what happened,’ Effie had told her. ‘If he remembered about the accident, then it might help him remember other things about his life, too.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ Adeline insisted. ‘It would only upset Richard, and I don’t want that. And don’t you even think of telling him,’ she added, pointing a warning finger at Effie.

  ‘It’s not my place to say anything.’

  ‘No, you’re right, it isn’t. So mind your own business.’

  But she’d still been very watchful of Effie, hardly daring to leave her fiancé’s side in case the other girl said anything.

  Now, as they prepared to leave, Effie could see the relief written all over Adeline’s face. No doubt she thought she was safe at last.

  Just as they were about to go, Richard turned to Effie and said, ‘I’ve got something for you.’

  ‘For me?’

  ‘To thank you for everything you’ve done for me.’ He handed her a small, velvet-covered box. ‘Adeline chose it for me. I hope you like it.’

  Inside the box was a necklace, a curious golden-brown striped stone on the end of a delicate chain.

  ‘It’s a Tiger’s Eye,’ Adeline said. ‘It’s supposed to have special powers, to help you overcome difficult obstacles in life.’

  Richard watched Effie closely. ‘You do like it, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s lovely.’

  It was beautiful, but there was something slightly repellent about it, too. The oddly shaped stone was too dramatic, not at all the kind of thing Effie would usually wear.

  ‘You must put it on. Here, I’ll help you.’ Adeline went to fasten it around her neck but Effie took a step back.

  ‘We’re not allowed to wear jewellery on the ward,’ she said. ‘But I’ll put it on later, when I go out,’ she promised Richard.

  At that moment Sister Holmes appeared with a porter to escort them down to the front doors. Effie slipped the necklace into her apron pocket.

  As Sister Holmes followed the porter, Adeline paused and turned to Effie.

  ‘I don’t suppose we’ll be meeting again,’ she said coldly.

  ‘I don’t suppose we will,’ Effie agreed.

  ‘Are you still in touch with Adam?’

  It was on the tip of Effie’s tongue to tell her it was none of her business, but she couldn’t resist boasting. ‘As a matter of fact, we’re going out this evening.’

  ‘Oh, really? Anywhere nice?’

  ‘We’re going to the dog track, to watch the racing.’

  Adeline’s eyes lit up with amusement. ‘The dog track? Gosh, how thrilling. Adam certainly knows how to treat a lady, doesn’t he?’ Then, before Effie could rep
ly, she said, ‘Be sure to give him my love, won’t you?’

  Effie watched her sauntering off down the passageway after Richard and Sister Holmes. At least this was the last time she would have to see Adeline’s superior, smirking face.

  And as for remembering her to Adam – well, Adeline had another think coming!

  It was a warm early summer evening and Walthamstow Stadium was packed. Adam looked around him warily as they bought their entrance tickets and slipped through the turnstile.

  ‘I’m not sure about this,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t look like a suitable place for a lady.’

  Effie gazed around her at the bobbing sea of flat caps. Most of the crowd were men, and some had turned to stare rudely at her.

  But she wasn’t that easily daunted. ‘Don’t be silly, we’ve paid for our tickets now. Let’s go and put a bet on.’

  It amused her to see how ill at ease Adam was in the jostling crowd. ‘Bit different from your posh friends at the poetry reading, isn’t it?’ she mocked.

  ‘I’m just worried about hurting my leg, that’s all,’ he told her loftily. ‘I’m still not fully healed, you know. I have to be careful.’

  ‘Go on with you. No one’s asking you to run after the hare.’ Dragging him behind her, she pushed her way to the front rail, overlooking the track. ‘We should be able to get a good view from here.’

  ‘How thrilling,’ Adam said dryly. Effie glared at him. He sounded like the awful Adeline when he talked like that.

  ‘You just wait,’ she promised.

  And she was right. As each race went by, Adam grew more and more interested. By the time the last race came round, he was hanging over the rail with her, cheering on the dogs as they streaked past.

  ‘How do you keep winning?’ he asked.

  She tapped the side of her nose. ‘I know a few things about dogs,’ she said. ‘My uncle breeds champion greyhounds back in Killarney.’

  He sent her a look that was almost admiring. ‘You never cease to surprise me, Effie O’Hara.’

  Then came the eighth and final race.

  ‘I like the look of Hard Luck,’ Effie said, peering at her race card.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Adam said. ‘Black Bombshell’s the favourite.’

  ‘I don’t care, I want to put my money on Hard Luck.’

  ‘Put a penny on each way. It’ll be safer.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m putting all of it on. To win.’

  Adam shook his head. ‘You’re mad,’ he said flatly.

  They watched the last race in tense silence. Effie could feel Adam’s disapproval coming off him in waves as they stood waiting for the dogs to be released. The electric hare started off, whizzing around the track, and then suddenly the traps opened and the dogs shot out, streaks of brown and black and grey under the stark lights.

  Black Bombshell took the lead straight away, leaving the others panting in her wake. Last of all was Hard Luck, a wiry, silver hound with a long, clumsy stride.

  ‘Looks like he’s going to live up to his name!’ Adam said.

  By the time they’d got three-quarters of the way round the track, Black Bombshell was leading easily, and poor Hard Luck was still tripping over his feet.

  ‘Well, that’s that, then.’ Adam sighed and started to tear up the betting slip. But Effie put out her hand to stop him.

  ‘Wait,’ she whispered, her eyes still fixed on the track.

  ‘What’s the point? You only have to look at him to see he’s—’ Adam stopped talking abruptly.

  The men around Effie roared as, yards from the finishing line, Hard Luck suddenly found his stride and pushed forward up the field, streaking past the other dogs until he romped home ahead of Black Bombshell.

  ‘What did I tell you?’ Without thinking, Effie launched herself into Adam’s arms. There was a moment of stunned awkwardness when they both froze, arms around each other, then pulled apart.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Adam mumbled, looking away.

  Effie couldn’t forget the look of panic in his eyes as she’d moved in to embrace him, but she was determined not to let it spoil her evening. She’d had a lovely time, she was two pounds richer thanks to her winnings, and she was so happy being with him.

  ‘Well, did you enjoy it?’ she asked as they made their way home on the bus.

  ‘I suppose so,’ he admitted grudgingly.

  ‘It was more fun than a poetry recital anyway!’

  He sent her a sidelong smile. ‘You’re a philistine.’

  ‘Yes, but I’m a rich philistine,’ she giggled.

  ‘Next time we should choose something we both like,’ he suggested.

  Effie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Next time?’

  A blush rose from his shirt collar. ‘We might as well, I suppose.’ He shrugged. ‘But it’s not a date,’ he told her quickly.

  ‘What is it, then?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘Just friends?’

  Effie turned her face towards the window so he wouldn’t see her smile. She’d seen the look in his eyes when she’d hugged him.

  She just had to be patient, she told herself. She would teach him to love again one day.

  As they walked through the darkened streets to the hospital, she wondered whether to tell him about Richard going home. She was reluctant to bring up Adeline’s name after they’d had such a lovely evening. But in the end she decided it would be unfair not to tell Adam. He was Richard’s friend, after all.

  ‘I’m glad,’ was all he said, his voice distant.

  ‘He gave me this – look.’ She pulled the necklace from inside her blouse and held the stone up to show him. ‘Between you and me, Staff Nurse Lund was livid because she only got a box of chocolates.’ She stopped, seeing his grim expression. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. ‘Don’t you like it? I wasn’t sure about it at first, but now I think it’s quite pretty . . .’

  ‘I gave that to Adeline for her twenty-first birthday,’ he said coldly.

  ‘Oh.’ Effie stared down at the Tiger’s Eye stone. She suddenly wanted to wrench it from her neck and toss it as far as she could.

  Adeline had done it deliberately to hurt Adam. Or to keep herself in his thoughts.

  ‘I’ll get rid of it,’ said Effie, fumbling for the catch.

  ‘No,’ Adam said. ‘Keep it. If she’s given it away, it obviously doesn’t mean anything to her.’

  Effie glanced at his rigid profile. It might not have meant much to Adeline, but it obviously meant a great deal to him.

  Chapter Forty-One

  FRANNIE CAME OUT of the train station, stared around the flat Essex landscape shrouded in rain and wondered again what she was doing. She should never have agreed to come. She couldn’t imagine why John had dragged her all the way out here.

  She’d had a few days to consider her feelings since his unexpected telephone call, but still wasn’t sure what to make of it all. She was deeply hurt by his unexpected rejection, but also intrigued enough to want to know what lay behind it.

  Which was why, on her half day off, she had come all the way to this odd little village squatting in the middle of damp, unappealing marshland. Frannie had no idea why, but for some reason John seemed to believe that this place would make everything clear to her.

  Doubts began to creep up on her again, and she was considering turning around and getting on the next train back to London when a car drew up and John stepped out.

  The breath caught in Frannie’s throat when she saw him striding towards her in uniform.

  ‘Frannie.’ He kept his distance but his green eyes were warm as they fixed on her. ‘It’s good to see you,’ he said quietly.

  ‘That wasn’t the impression I got the last time we met,’ she said. ‘It seemed as if you couldn’t wait to get away from me then.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry.’ His gaze fell away from hers. ‘You have to believe how hard it was for me to walk away from you like that.’

  ‘So why did you do it?’<
br />
  He didn’t reply at first. Then he said, ‘Can we go for a drive? I’d like to show you something.’

  The village, such as it was, consisted of nothing more than a few streets straggling around the train station. John drove through it and out into the marshes beyond. Under the darkening, stormy skies the land was flat and uninspiring, miles of glistening purplish-brown stretching out to the horizon, dotted here and there with dismal little cottages.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Frannie asked.

  ‘You’ll see. It’s not far.’

  Finally he stopped the car on the edge of a murky-looking lake. Not far from them, further along the waterside, was a dilapidated-looking farmhouse, its whitewashed walls peeling. It was flanked by similarly neglected outbuildings, all built around a filthy yard. It looked as if it hadn’t been lived in for years.

  John got out of the car and came round to open the door for Frannie. She stepped out, her shoes sinking immediately into the spongy marsh ground. She pulled her hat down over her ears, shivering in the chilly wind that swirled across the flat land. It was as if the heat of the summer had never visited this grim part of the world.

  ‘Where are we?’ She tried to stay calm, but her heart was pattering against her ribs. ‘It looks like the middle of nowhere.’

  ‘It is, more or less.’

  He looked down at her, eyes shaded under the peak of his cap. ‘First of all, I wanted to apologise.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘I should never have walked away from you like that. I knew as soon as I did it that I’d made a mistake. I thought I could stay away from you. But then I realised you meant too much to me.’

  ‘Why did you do it then?’ Frannie fought to keep the hurt out of her voice.

  He stared across the lake towards the house. ‘I haven’t been completely honest with you,’ he said.

  Fear crept up her spine. ‘In what way?’

  He turned to her. ‘You have to understand, I didn’t think I would ever see you again,’ he said, his eyes pleading for understanding. ‘And then when we met in the hospital – I just didn’t know what to do. I knew I should tell you the truth, but at the same time I didn’t want to lose you. And I knew if you ever found out—’