‘Find someone who makes you truly happy. Someone whose pain means more to you than your own.’
‘That’s what I want, more than anything. That’s what I’ve always wanted.’
For the first time she allowed herself to meet his gaze. He looked so wretched, she thought with pity. Poor Adam, constantly searching for someone to love. She had thought she was the hopeless romantic, but now she could see she wasn’t the only one.
But then his petulant side reasserted itself. ‘I’m surprised you came at all, if this is all you have to say,’ he grunted.
‘I came because I wanted to say goodbye and to wish you well,’ Effie said. ‘As a friend.’
‘A friend?’ His mouth curled around the word.
She leaned forward and planted a light kiss on his cheek. For the first time he didn’t flinch, but it was too little and far too late.
‘Stay safe, Adam,’ she said.
As she turned to walk away, he called after her, ‘Wait! May I write to you?’
She shook her head. ‘Better not,’ she said.
She walked away, making sure not to look back until she reached the corner. When she did, he was still standing at the top of the stone steps, watching her, a forlorn figure in his khaki uniform.
For a moment, it was all she could do not to run back to him. But she knew it would be better for both of them if she kept walking.
My true love hath my heart, and I have his . . . The words echoed in her mind. It hurt her so much to say goodbye. But Jess was right, she thought. She and Adam both deserved better than that.
‘You know, Mrs Durrant, I don’t think I’ve ever met a child who uses fruit as imaginatively as your son,’ David McKay said, wielding his forceps.
The woman looked offended. ‘You were the one who told me to send him to Saturday morning pictures with an apple instead of an orange,’ she accused.
‘Yes, but I didn’t expect him to stuff the core up his nose, did I?’
As he tried to extract the offending object, he was aware of Mrs Durrant’s head casting a shadow over her son’s face.
‘What if some of the pips travel right up there, Doctor?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Will they grow in his brain, do you think?’
David paused for a moment, composing himself.
‘I don’t think they’d find very fertile ground, Mrs Durrant,’ he said. ‘Or indeed any—’
He froze, forceps poised, as the door opened and Helen Dawson stood there, a calm, beautiful vision in her stiff grey dress and goffered white bonnet.
At first he thought he was seeing things, and it was all he could do not to throw down his instruments and rush over to check if she was real.
But then she smiled and said, ‘Sorry I’m late, Doctor. But I’m ready now.’
‘I don’t understand. Ready for . . .’ He stopped speaking. The glowing warmth in her dark eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was ready to take a chance, to hand him her heart and trust that he would care for it as she would his.
He cleared his throat. ‘Are you quite sure, Sister?’ he asked.
‘Very sure, sir.’
He smiled. ‘We’d better get on with it then,’ he said, picking up his forceps. ‘We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up.’
The station platform in Colchester was crowded. Soldiers, their families, wives, sweethearts, all clamouring to say goodbye. No one wanted to be the first to tear themself away.
Frannie desperately searched the crowded platform but there was no sign of John. Why had she left it so late? She didn’t even know for sure if he’d be here. For all she knew he might have already gone, could be on the shores of France by now . . .
She felt nausea rise in her throat and steadied herself. Don’t give in, she told herself. Don’t let the fear take a grip on you, not this time.
And then the crowd parted and she saw him. Standing apart from everyone else as usual, tall, handsome and strapping in his officer’s uniform, surveying the scene with narrowed, watchful eyes.
His gaze skimmed over her, then snagged on her and pulled back until they were staring directly at each other. He stood for a moment, frozen. Only his lips moved, saying her name.
The next moment Frannie was running towards him. She didn’t stop running until she was in his arms and kissing him fiercely.
The harsh blast of the whistle parted them. ‘All aboard!’ The train guard started down the platform, his flag poised.
John looked down at her. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ he murmured.
‘Me neither.’ There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted him to know, it would take a lifetime to say it. And with any luck, a lifetime was what they would have.
‘I brought this for you.’ She reached into her pocket, pulled out her lucky pebble and pressed it into his hand. ‘It brought you luck before, so I’m hoping it will bring you luck again.’
His fingers closed around it, holding it tight. ‘I won’t need luck,’ he said. ‘Not if I know I’ve got you waiting for me.’
The train guard gave another harsh blast on his whistle.
‘You’d better go.’
As he walked away from her, he turned and called back, ‘I will come home – I promise.’
Frannie smiled. ‘I don’t want you to come home a hero,’ she whispered. ‘Just come home safe.’
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Epub ISBN: 9781448165032
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Copyright © Donna Douglas 2014
Donna Douglas has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between these fictional characters and actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
First published in Great Britain in 2014 by
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ISBN 9780099585169
A Nightingale Christmas Wish Page 36
