A Nightingale Christmas Wish

by Donna Douglas

  Cissy shuddered. ‘It’s all change, ain’t it? I don’t like change.’

  ‘Who does?’ Elsie said. ‘It’s horrible, not knowing where we’ll be this time next year, or even if we’ll be here at all.’

  A glum silence fell around the bed. Kathleen considered her own future, too. After sleepwalking through the past few months worrying about her illness, she’d finally woken up to the upheaval going on around her.

  Only that morning she’d had a frosty visit from Miss Hanley to tell her that one of the midwives in Maternity had given notice. When Kathleen had mentioned advertising for her replacement, Miss Hanley had said, ‘Surely that won’t be necessary, since Maternity will be one of the wards closing down?’ There had been a reproachful look in her eye when she’d said it.

  Now Kathleen looked around at the women on her ward and wondered where on earth they would have their babies in future.

  ‘Still,’ Vera said cheerfully, ‘we know some things won’t change.’

  ‘Like your old man?’ Cissy laughed.

  ‘True,’ Vera agreed ruefully. ‘I expect I’ll be in here this time next year, ready to drop another.’

  ‘I thought you were going to have it all taken away?’

  ‘You don’t know my husband.’ Vera blew a stream of smoke out of the corner of her mouth. ‘He only has to look at me and I cop for a kid. I reckon I could get pregnant without anything there.’

  ‘You’re a bleeding medical miracle, Vee!’ Cissy said.

  They laughed. Only Kathleen was silent.

  ‘You all right, Kath?’ Vera asked.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. Just thinking, that’s all.’

  ‘You don’t want to take any notice of this lot.’ Vera grinned at her. ‘They’re all doom and gloom, but they don’t mean it. Nothing’s going to change around here. This time next year we’ll all still be here, large as life and twice as ugly!’

  Kathleen watched Vera as she took another deep drag of her cigarette. If only that were true, she thought.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  IT WAS BARELY ten o’clock on a Sunday morning, but already another stiflingly hot day. The sun beat down from a brilliant, cloudless sky on the crowd gathered around Speakers’ Corner in Hyde Park to listen to the leader of the Peace Society.

  Frannie fanned herself with the pamphlets she was clutching, and longed for some cooling shade. She could feel the sun scorching her skin in spite of the straw hat she wore.

  But it wasn’t just the heat that was making her feel uncomfortable. The Sunday-morning occasion in Hyde Park was usually a good-natured affair, but today the crowd was growing restless. They were heckling more than usual, Frannie noticed, drowning out the speaker with their booing and catcalls.

  ‘Nazi lover!’

  ‘Get back to Berlin where you belong!’

  ‘You lot are worse than Mosley’s bunch!’

  Frannie didn’t blame them for being hostile. Although she was there to support them, even she didn’t agree with the message of the Peace Society any more.

  ‘All I’m saying is that if Hitler is allowed free rein there will be no need for war,’ the man on the soapbox was saying, his voice almost drowned out by the jeering around him.

  ‘Let him take over Europe and then he’ll leave us alone, is that what you’re saying?’ someone shouted.

  ‘If it’s the choice between war and being left in peace—’

  The crowd started jostling around Frannie, knocking her sideways. One man in the crowd shoved another, and the next minute a fight had broken out. As the fists flew, Frannie stepped in to try to sort it out.

  ‘Stop it,’ she begged. ‘There’s no need for this . . .’ Then a flailing fist caught her in the side of the head and sent her spinning to the ground.

  ‘Get out of the way! Let me through, damn you!’ a loud voice, full of authority, shouted from the back of the crowd. As she lay sprawled on the grass, Frannie was suddenly aware of the crowd parting around her. A man in uniform appeared above her, blocking out the sun.

  ‘Frannie? Are you all right?’

  She squinted up at him. ‘John?’

  Strong hands grasped her, lifting her to her feet. ‘For pity’s sake, give her some air!’ he barked at the crowd, who immediately backed away. John turned to her, his green eyes full of concern. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘Only my pride.’ She brushed dust off her skirt and looked around her. ‘And I’ve lost my hat.’

  ‘Here.’ He picked it up off the ground, dusted it down and gave it to her. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You’re very flushed.’

  ‘It’s just the heat.’

  ‘Come on, let’s get you out of here.’ Taking her elbow, he steered Frannie through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea before them.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, then couldn’t resist adding ruefully, ‘You surely haven’t come to listen to the Peace Society?’

  ‘Hardly.’ He looked contemptuous. ‘I came to find you. I went to the hospital but they said it was your day off. I had a feeling you’d be here.’

  They had left the crowd far behind and were in a more peaceful part of the park, surrounded by fragrant rose bushes. Couples wandered by arm in arm, and in the distance Frannie could hear the clopping of horses’ hooves.

  ‘I’ve stayed away for as long as I could, but I needed to see you, to explain. Please, Frannie, may we talk?’ he asked.

  Frannie looked up into his imploring face. She wasn’t surprised to see him. She’d been half expecting him since the day she’d left him at the railway station in Essex.

  She nodded. ‘I suppose so.’ Much as she hated to admit it to herself, she had missed him. And now time had abated some of her anger, she was ready to listen to what he had to say.

  He smiled with relief. ‘Thank you. Shall we walk, or would you prefer to find somewhere to sit?’

  They ended up in the café beside the lido. Frannie sipped her iced lemonade and watched the swimmers splashing about in the Serpentine. How she envied them. She could feel the perspiration trickling down inside her flowery summer dress.

  ‘I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk to me, or even see me again after what happened,’ John began. He sat beside her, his gaze also fixed on the swimmers.

  ‘I’m sorry I stormed off that day,’ she said. ‘I was rather shocked after everything that happened. I just needed time to think . . .’

  ‘I understand.’ He sent her a cautious sideways look. ‘But I really wanted a chance to explain, to put my side of the story.’

  ‘I’m listening,’ she said.

  He paused for a while, and she could see his mind working as he struggled to find the right words.

  ‘I never meant to lie to you, you must understand that,’ he began. ‘You’re the last person in the world I’d ever want to hurt.’ He stared down at his glass. ‘When I made my promise to Matthew I never expected to see you again. And then when I did . . .’ He paused again, then pressed on. ‘It was so difficult for me, hearing you talk about Matthew and realising how much you’d suffered over the years, not knowing what had happened. You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell you . . .’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘How could I? I knew you’d hate me if I told you the truth, and I couldn’t bear that. But I also knew I couldn’t go on living a lie. It would always be there between us. So I decided the best thing would be for me to leave.’

  Out on the lake, two little boys were splashing each other, both shrieking with delight.

  ‘I was so hurt when you did,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know what I’d done wrong. I thought we were getting on so well.’

  ‘We were,’ John said earnestly. ‘Too well, that was the point. I’d started to – have feelings for you,’ he admitted slowly.

  ‘I had feelings for you, too. That’s why it hurt so much.’

  ‘I know, and I’m sorry.’ He looked wretched. ‘But that’s why I had to leave. The more I grew to know
you, the more guilty I felt at keeping this secret from you. I thought if I walked away, I could put you and everything else behind me.’ He smiled reluctantly. ‘But as soon as I left I realised it was too late for that. My feelings for you were already too deep. I knew I had to come back and tell you everything. Even if it meant facing the consequences.’

  He stared out over the lake. His profile looked as if it had been carved from stone.

  ‘I’m sorry I took you to see him. It was the only way I could think of to tell you. I wasn’t sure you’d believe me otherwise.’

  ‘I don’t think I would have,’ Frannie admitted.

  ‘It must have been a terrible shock for you, seeing Matthew again after all those years?’

  ‘Yes, it was. That was why I walked away. I needed time to think, to clear my head.’ She glanced at him. ‘I was angry with you, too, for lying to me.’

  ‘And are you still angry?’

  ‘No.’ She didn’t even have to think about it, she’d spent so much time reflecting on it already. ‘I understand why you did it. You were trying to protect your friend.’

  She understood that now, after keeping Kathleen’s secret herself.

  ‘I’m not sure Matthew deserved my protection, after what he did,’ John said tersely. ‘Sometimes I wish I’d just shot him on that battlefield.’

  She looked up at him, shading her eyes with her hand. ‘Why didn’t you?’

  He turned his head to face her. ‘Because I made a promise to you,’ he said. ‘I told you I’d look after him.’

  A lump rose in her throat, choking her. When she’d said those words to John, on that station platform nearly twenty-five years ago, she’d had no idea that they would change the course of their lives.

  ‘I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see Matthew again,’ John went on. ‘I honestly didn’t know what had happened to him after that night. He went missing during an assault we were making on enemy lines. I didn’t know if he’d done as he’d threatened and run away, or if he’d been cut down in battle. I thought perhaps he’d changed his mind and stood with the rest of us . . . But then, just after the war, I received a letter from him, asking for help. He’d made it back to England, but he had no money and nowhere to live. He couldn’t go back to his family either. He’d lost everything.’

  ‘He only had himself to blame for that,’ Frannie said.

  John smiled wearily. ‘You mustn’t judge him too harshly, Fran. That was typical Matthew, he never considered the consequences of his actions.’

  He was right, Frannie thought. Even as a boy Matthew was impulsive, always coming up with good ideas, running headlong into things, then losing interest just as quickly. At the time she’d found it exciting. Now she knew better.

  ‘So you decided to help him?’

  John nodded. ‘I’d bought a little cottage just after the war. At the time I couldn’t imagine going back to the army. I thought I might give civilian life a go, maybe try farming my own land instead of working on someone else’s.’

  ‘But you gave it to Matthew instead?’

  ‘His need was greater than mine.’ John shrugged. ‘Shortly after he contacted me, I decided to re-enlist. And Matthew needed somewhere to live, so . . .’

  ‘So you gave up the future you’d planned, for your friend’s sake?’

  ‘The idea was that he would work the land for me, as a sort of tenant farmer. But he hadn’t quite the enthusiasm for it I’d hoped,’ said John dryly.

  Frannie thought about Matthew, eaten up with self-pity in his tumbledown cottage, blaming everyone else for his misfortune. He probably hated being so beholden to John, a boy from the workhouse, for his existence.

  ‘He’s lucky he had you to protect him,’ she said.

  John smiled. ‘I feel as if I’ve spent most of my life protecting him.’

  That was true, Frannie acknowledged. It had been the same when they were children. Matthew would get into trouble, and John would always take the blame for it. Nothing was ever Matthew’s fault.

  ‘Anyway,’ he went on, ‘I didn’t do it for him. I did it for you.’ His eyes met hers. ‘I kept my promise, Fran,’ he said.

  And look what it cost us, she thought. She wished she’d never asked John to look after Matthew. He hadn’t deserved it.

  John was still watching her, his eyes intent. ‘Do you hate me?’ he asked gruffly. ‘Can you ever forgive me for what I did?’

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ she assured him warmly. ‘How can I hate you for being loyal to a friend?’

  He let out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I was so sure I’d lost you for ever, I hardly dared think I’d see you again. But do you – think there could be a chance for us?’ he ventured cautiously.

  It was the question Frannie had been dreading, because she didn’t know the answer.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she said.

  He frowned. ‘But you said you forgave me?’

  ‘I do. But this isn’t about Matthew. It’s about how I feel.’ She met his gaze steadily. ‘I don’t know if we can be together, John,’ she told him honestly.

  His face fell. ‘You don’t love me then?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ She was only just beginning to realise how much. ‘But that’s what makes it so hard for me.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It’s not you, John. It’s this.’ Frannie looked at his uniform, her gaze fixed on the gilt buttons glinting in the sun. She’d had a great deal of time to think about what it meant to her. And seeing so many men in uniform on the streets of London had only confirmed her feelings. ‘Twenty-five years ago I saw someone off from the station and he never came home. It broke my heart. I don’t think I can go through that again,’ she said sadly.

  ‘You won’t have to.’

  ‘Won’t I?’ She looked up at him. ‘We both know war is coming, and soon. It’s everywhere we look now, isn’t it? Are you telling me you won’t be sent away to fight?’

  ‘I’ll resign my commission.’

  ‘John—’

  ‘I mean it, Frannie. I’ll leave the army.’

  ‘They wouldn’t let you.’

  ‘I only have another two years to go. Besides, I’ve done my bit for more than twenty years. They can do without me.’

  ‘You can’t,’ she said wearily. ‘You’ve told me before, the army is your life.’

  ‘You’re my life. You and Adam. The army nearly cost me my son, and it’s only recently that I’ve started to get him back. I don’t want the same thing to happen to us. And if that means giving it all up for you, then I will.’

  Frannie stared at him. He meant it, she had no doubt. But she also knew it would kill him if he had to choose.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

  His face clouded over. ‘So you won’t give me a chance?’

  ‘I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.’

  ‘Very well, if that’s your decision.’ She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to do. But she should have known John wasn’t the type to argue, or to make a fuss. He rose to his feet, suddenly rigid and formal and every inch an officer. ‘I wish you well. I don’t suppose our paths will cross again.’

  ‘I don’t suppose they will,’ she agreed heavily.

  ‘Goodbye, Frannie.’ His face was expressionless, but he couldn’t keep the hurt out of his eyes.

  ‘Goodbye, John.’

  As she watched him walk away from her, so stiff and tall, all her instincts cried out to her to go after him, to stop him walking out of her life for ever. But she forced herself to stay perfectly still.

  If it hurt to see him go now, how much worse would it be if she had to see him off to war?

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  TWO WEEKS INTO her stint on the Gynae ward, Effie was already beginning to hate it.

  It wasn’t the patients who got her down. The women on the ward were all lovely, full of fun and laughter and always very appreciative of every little service she did for t
hem.

  But Sister Wren was another matter. Nothing Effie did was right, not matter how hard she tried. And instead of taking her quietly to one side and warning her, Sister made a point of humiliating her in the middle of the ward and making her feel useless.

  Effie’s latest crime was to forget to put a cloth on Matron’s supper tray. Miss Fox hadn’t even noticed, but Sister Wren had, and she’d reduced Effie to tears in front of all the other patients because of it.

  Afterwards, the women had gathered round to comfort her.

  ‘Take no notice of her, ducks. It was only a tray cloth, for heaven’s sake.’

  ‘That sister’s a bully. She’ll get her comeuppance one day, you see if she doesn’t.’

  ‘Dry your eyes, love. Here, have a chocolate.’

  Effie sniffed back her tears, straightened her shoulders and went back to work, but she kept her eyes fixed on the clock, longing for five o’clock when she went off duty. At least she had a trip to the pictures with Adam to look forward to. They were going to see Wuthering Heights at the Rialto for their third date, and Effie had high hopes that watching such torrid romance on the screen might finally make Adam realise he had feelings for her. Third time lucky, didn’t they say? If not, at least she had Laurence Olivier as handsome Heathcliff to gaze at.

  She arrived early at the cinema to queue for tickets, but as the clock ticked and the minutes passed, Adam didn’t come. The doors opened and the queue began to shuffle forward. Effie looked up and down the street, but still there was no sign of him.

  She left the queue and allowed everyone to file past her while she waited for Adam. Even when the ‘House Full’ sign went up and the doors closed, he still hadn’t come.

  ‘Been stood up, love?’ The commissionaire in his smart gold-trimmed burgundy uniform smiled sympathetically at her.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ Effie said. ‘He’s usually on time.’

  ‘I’d give him a piece of my mind, if I were you.’

  Effie didn’t want to give Adam a piece of her mind, but she was worried. It really wasn’t like him to let her down. There had to be a good reason why he was late.