The Nightingale Christmas Show

by Donna Douglas

  There was a box on the bed.

  ‘Not much in there,’ the woman remarked. ‘Just some old photograph albums.’

  ‘You’ve already been through it, then,’ Violet said.

  The woman had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I was looking for a forwarding address,’ she mumbled.

  Looking for something valuable, you mean, Violet thought. She had been robbed enough times by light-fingered landladies to know her type.

  The pages of the albums were rimmed with damp and mould. When Violet opened them, several loose pages fell out.

  As she bent to pick them up, she saw her own image staring back at her. She was a young woman, nursing a baby on her lap. Turning to the next page, she saw herself as a baby, then as a child collecting a Sunday School prize, well turned out in her best dress and white socks.

  ‘They’re all of you, every single one,’ the woman said. ‘That’s how we knew who you were.’ She paused. ‘I s’pose she must have thought a lot about you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Violet replied quietly. ‘Yes, I suppose she did.’

  Peggy

  1st December 1945

  ‘I hope I ain’t got you into trouble, Sister,’ Peggy Atkins said worriedly as she tidied up the mess of leftover paper chains from the table.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t fret about it, Peggy,’ Sister Parry shook her head. ‘Our assistant matron always has a bee in her bonnet about something. Anyway, the kids enjoyed themselves, and that’s the main thing.’ She looked at the notice Miss Davis had handed her. ‘So what’s all this? A Christmas show, eh? That’ll be a right old laugh, if she’s got anything to do with it!’

  ‘What’s a Christmas show, Sister?’ Peggy asked, scooping an armful of wallpaper scraps into an old cardboard box.

  ‘Of course, you won’t have seen one before, will you? We used to have them every year when I was training. The staff get together and put on a show for the patients on Christmas Day. We used to have a right laugh doing it, too.’

  ‘Sounds like a hoot, Sister. It’s such a shame I won’t be here to see it,’ Peggy said sadly.

  Sister Parry looked at her sympathetically. ‘That is a shame. I reckon you would have loved it. Couldn’t you stay on a bit longer? Just till after Christmas?’

  Peggy shook her head. ‘I don’t think my Eric would like it. He’s been patient enough as it is.’

  Her husband had wanted her to give up working at the hospital as soon as VE Day was over, but Peggy had persuaded him to let her stay on until the end of the year.

  ‘Well, I’ll be sorry to see you go,’ Sister Parry sighed. ‘I don’t know how we’ll manage without you, I really don’t.’

  Peggy laughed off the compliment. ‘All I do is make beds and scrub bedpans!’

  ‘You do much more than that and you know it,’ Sister said. ‘You’re like a breath of fresh air, Peggy. You’re a natural with the kids, and you cheer us all up.’ She looked at her consideringly. ‘I wish you’d think about what I said, about getting some proper training.’

  ‘What, me? Train to be a nurse?’

  ‘Why not? Like I said, you’re a natural.’

  Peggy shook her head. ‘I’m not much for book learning, Sister. Besides, they’d never want me. I’m nearly forty, and my daughter’s older than most of the students here. Matron would have a fit if I applied.’

  ‘Matron would welcome a good nurse at this hospital, whatever her age. And as for book learning – well, I never had much of an education either. I used to sew shirts in a garment factory, remember?’

  Peggy did remember. She recalled Sister Parry when she was plain old Dora Doyle, a red-haired kid running errands for her mum and her gran in Griffin Street. She remembered her coming into the shop, ushering all her younger brothers and sisters like a little mother hen.

  And now look at her, a ward sister no less, in her starched grey dress and white bonnet covering her ginger curls. She had done well for herself, there was no doubt about that. But she was still the lovely, down-to-earth girl Peggy remembered.

  Peggy admired her, but she had no illusions about joining her. ‘It’s not for me, Sister. Besides, my Eric needs me to help him in the shop.’

  Dora smiled. ‘Of course, Peggy. But I do wish you could stay on till after Christmas, in any case. It would be a great help to me if you could.’

  Peggy looked around at the rows of beds. She would miss the children, more than she wanted to admit to herself. She loved seeing them every morning, and helping to bring a smile to their little faces.

  ‘I’ll see what my Eric says,’ she said. ‘I must admit, I’d like to see this Christmas show.’

  But Eric wasn’t too impressed by the idea when Peggy mentioned it over tea that night. And neither was his mother.

  ‘You mean to tell us you’d rather spend Christmas in a hospital with strangers than with your own family?’ Nellie Atkins said through a mouthful of food. ‘Well, that’s nice, that is.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be spending all day there,’ Peggy protested as she handed round the vegetables. ‘Besides, it’d only be for an extra week or two. I don’t see as it would make much difference.’ She turned her pleading gaze to her husband.

  Eric ruminated on it for a moment, his face thoughtful. ‘Mum’s right,’ he said at last. ‘Christmas is our busiest time in the shop.’ He shook his head. ‘Your place is here, Peg. With me and the kids.’

  ‘The kids have grown up and flown the nest, in case you hadn’t noticed,’ Peggy’s sister Pearl spoke up. Peggy’s heart sank. She knew Pearl was only sticking up for her, but she wished she wouldn’t. She antagonised Eric every time she opened her mouth. ‘Your Alan’s still out in India, and now your Amy’s engaged I daresay once she’s demobbed she’ll be setting up home on her own.’

  ‘It’s a pity you don’t do the same,’ Nellie muttered.

  Peggy shot a tense look at her sister, willing her not to answer back. It was a vain hope.

  Pearl stuck out her chin. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘I mean how long are you going to carry on living here? You’re a grown woman and a mother and it’s high time you started fending for yourself.’

  ‘This is my home for as long as I need it. Peggy said so. Ain’t that right, Peg?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘Peggy had no business telling you that. This is my son’s house, and he says what goes. You’ve imposed on our goodwill for too long.’

  ‘Goodwill! I ain’t seen much goodwill from you, you old bag!’

  ‘Pearl!’ Peggy gasped, but with her sister and her mother-in-law both spoiling for a fight, there wasn’t much she could do to stop it.

  ‘Did you hear what she said to me?’ Nellie turned on Peggy, her eyes bulging with outrage. ‘You ain’t going to stand for that, are you?’

  ‘Pearl, please—’

  ‘She sits there like Lady Muck, eating our food and not lifting a finger,’ Nellie went on, her flabby jowls wobbling with anger. ‘And then she goes out and leaves you to look after her boy—’

  ‘I don’t mind. I like looking after Charlie.’ Peggy flashed a quick smile at Pearl’s ten-year-old son, who sat beside his mother, steadily eating and watching the conversation bat back and forth with nervous, squinting eyes.

  ‘Just as well, since he sees more of you than he does his own mother!’ Nellie muttered.

  ‘You don’t mind him being here when he’s running errands and fetching and carrying deliveries for you,’ Pearl retorted. ‘And all for free, too. Where are his wages, that’s what I’d like to know?’

  ‘You’re eating ’em,’ Eric said, gesturing for Peggy to serve him more carrots. Peggy jumped to her feet, the spoon in her hand.

  ‘Anyway, you’ll be glad to know I won’t be imposing on your charity much longer,’ Pearl said haughtily. ‘Once Ralph and I get married—’

  Nellie cackled with laughter. ‘You reckon he’s going to marry you? The Thames will freeze over before that day happens!’

&nb
sp; Pearl ignored her. ‘Once Ralph and I are married, we’ll have our own place. Somewhere smart, out in Essex.’

  ‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ Nellie muttered.

  ‘More pie?’ Peggy jumped in, desperate to keep the peace.

  ‘I won’t say no.’ Nellie held up her plate.

  ‘You never do,’ Pearl said. ‘Honestly, you complain I’m a sponger, but you take the cake.’

  ‘What are you talking about? This was my house, and my shop before it passed to my son. I have every right to be here, unlike you! Not too much pastry.’ She held up her hand as Peggy dolloped pie on her plate. ‘It’s too dry. You’re a bit too heavy-handed with it, if you ask me.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Peggy mumbled, shaking her head at her sister as Pearl opened her mouth to speak.

  After tea, Eric said to Peggy, ‘You’re going to have to have a word with that sister of yours. I won’t have her upsetting my mother.’

  ‘She can’t help herself,’ Peggy sighed. ‘She don’t mean any harm by it, she’s just got a quick tongue, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, I won’t have her spouting off in my house. Mum’s right, it’s time she started looking for a place of her own.’

  ‘Give her another chance, please?’ Peggy begged. ‘She’ll be moving out soon, I promise.’

  Eric sighed. ‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘But have a word with her, will you? Tell her to keep her trap shut.’

  It was easier said than done, Peggy thought.

  Pearl was in Amy’s old room, getting ready to go out, when Peggy went to talk to her.

  ‘I do wish you could make more of an effort to get on with Eric and his mum,’ she sighed, as she watched her sister powdering her face, sitting at her daughter’s old dressing table mirror. She had her own room in the attic, but she had commandeered the bigger room when Amy joined the ATS. She reckoned the light was better for putting on her make-up.

  ‘Tell that to the old battleaxe, not me. She’s the one who starts all the trouble. I don’t say a word unless she starts on me.’

  ‘I know she can be a bit difficult,’ Peggy conceded. ‘But she’s still Eric’s mother, and he doesn’t like her being upset.’

  ‘Oh, and we mustn’t upset the Lord and Master, must we?’ Pearl said sarcastically.

  ‘He’s been very good to us,’ Peggy said.

  ‘Oh yes, he’s a proper knight in shining armour.’

  Peggy stared at the back of her sister’s blonde head, stung. ‘He was to me,’ she said. ‘Don’t you remember the desperate state we were in? I dunno where you and I would have ended up, if Eric hadn’t come along.’

  ‘So you’re always telling me.’ Pearl made a face in the mirror. She spat on her mascara and stroked the brush along her lashes.

  ‘I suppose you’re too young to remember it.’ But Peggy knew she would never forget.

  ‘Anyway, I’ll be gone soon,’ Pearl said. ‘Once Ralph’s latest deal comes off, he’s going to pop the question, I know he is.’

  Peggy looked away so Pearl wouldn’t see the doubt in her eyes. Her sister was touchy when it came to her boyfriends.

  ‘Are you seeing him tonight?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course. You don’t think I’m painting my face for your Eric’s benefit, do you?’ Pearl laughed over her shoulder at Peggy. She was five years younger, but she could have passed for late twenties easily. Pearl took care of herself, bleaching her already fair hair to a silvery platinum shade. Any money she had went on clothes and make-up. She knew how to make the best of herself, a skill Peggy had never learned. She always felt dowdy in comparison, in her faded pinny and slippers, her blonde curls hacked short with the kitchen scissors.

  ‘We’re off up west,’ Pearl went on, turning back to the mirror to apply her lipstick. ‘Ralph’s taking me to some posh new club. He’s even bought me a new dress for the occasion, look.’ She nodded to the silk gown hanging up on the wardrobe.

  Peggy looked at it. She could just imagine how it would look, flowing over her sister’s slender curves. ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘Yes, well, Ralph likes me to dress up for him. He says he likes to show me off!’ she giggled.

  ‘And I suppose you’ll be wanting me to look after Charlie while you’re gone?’

  Pearl turned pleading eyes to hers. ‘You don’t mind, do you? You know how much he loves his Auntie Peg.’

  Peggy smiled reluctantly. ‘Of course not. He’s always welcome here.’ Although even as she said it, she could see Eric rolling his gaze heavenwards in her mind’s eye.

  ‘Thanks, Peggy. You’re a diamond.’ Pearl blew her a kiss from scarlet-painted lips. ‘I won’t forget you when I’m all set up.’

  ‘I should blooming well hope not!’ Peggy laughed, relieved to see her sister happy.

  But for how long? she wondered apprehensively. Ralph was just the latest in a long line of chancers that Pearl had got involved with. She went for that type, unfortunately. She was attracted to them like a moth to a flame, no matter how many times she got burned.

  And sometimes she ended up with more than a broken heart. Charlie was the result of another engagement to a man who promised her the world and then did a runner, leaving her high and dry.

  Peggy tried to talk to Eric about it that night as they got ready for bed.

  ‘I hope our Pearl’s all right,’ she said, looking out of the window into the dark, frosty night. The streets of Bethnal Green were deserted, but she knew that up west it would be a different story. That was the world Pearl inhabited, a world of lights and parties and jazz music and dancing till dawn.

  ‘Of course she will be. You know what Pearl’s like. She’ll be having the time of her life. And I daresay she’ll come home with the milkman, crawling in with her shoes in her hand. Then she’ll sleep till noon and won’t be fit for anything, least of all helping me in the shop.’

  Peggy looked at her husband, sitting up in bed, self-righteous in his striped flannel pyjamas. As a mother, Pearl was not conscripted as Peggy was. The plan was that she should take Peggy’s place helping out in the shop while Peggy worked at the Nightingale. But Pearl wasn’t cut out for shop work. She hated early mornings and being on her feet all day behind the counter. She was surly to the customers, and complained that the work made her hands rough and her hair stink of mouldy cheese.

  Peggy wished her sister would try a bit harder, for her sake. Perhaps if Pearl was slightly more amenable, Eric wouldn’t mind her staying on at the hospital a while longer.

  ‘I know she’s a devil, but I can’t help worrying about her. She is my little sister, after all.’

  ‘She’s a grown woman!’

  ‘Yes, but you know how daft she can be, especially when there’s a man involved. And Ralph doesn’t strike me as the reliable type.’

  Eric sighed. ‘She’s old enough and ugly enough to take care of herself. And with any luck this one will take her off our hands.’

  ‘Eric!’

  ‘I’m only speaking the truth. I know she’s your sister, but I’ll be glad when she’s finally married and you can start looking after us again. It’s me you should be worrying about, Peg. Not your wretched sister and her son.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Peggy sighed. But it was a hard habit to break. She had been looking out for Pearl for as long as she could remember.

  Their father had upped and left when Pearl was a baby, and their mother had been too drunk to care for her daughters. When she was five, Peggy was changing Pearl’s nappies. By the time she was ten she was getting her up for school. When she wasn’t keeping house or taking care of her sister, Peggy helped her mother with her piecework at the box factory, finishing off the boxes herself by the gas light when her mother fell asleep, drunk.

  Even then, it was a constant struggle to stop her mother drinking away everything she earned. Small as she was, Peggy would join the queue at the factory gates to collect the earnings, then go straight to buy food. More often than not she got beaten soundly for not handing the
money over, but at least it meant they could eat.

  By the time Peggy reached twelve, her mother had drunk herself to death. For a while, the workhouse had beckoned for the two girls, but Peggy took matters into her own hands. She gave up school and kept up the piecework at the box factory to keep a roof over their heads. Once she turned fifteen, she started work in the factory itself to earn more money.

  But the foreman turned amorous and started trying to have his way with her. When Peggy turned him down, he trumped up an excuse to sack her. At the age of seventeen, she found herself out on her ear with no references and no idea what to do next. She was crying on a bench in Victoria Park in the rain when Eric Atkins came along.

  Pearl was right, the gawky young man with his long face, sparse light brown hair and ill-fitting suit wasn’t anyone’s idea of a knight in shining armour. But he was kind and polite, he offered her a corned beef sandwich and a very clean, neatly pressed handkerchief, and he listened as Peggy poured out her woes to him. Then, when she had finished, he offered her a job behind the counter at the grocer’s shop on Vallance Street he had just inherited from his father.

  It was a dream come true for Peggy, even if she did have to put up with Eric’s spiteful mother Nellie. Nellie Atkins quickly spotted a potential rival for her son’s affections and disliked her on sight. But Peggy gradually won her over with her cheerful manner and hard work. And as long as she was willing to tolerate Nellie, then at least it meant that Eric had to do the same with Pearl, who came to live with them shortly after their marriage.

  Peggy had been looking after all of them and her own two children ever since, and she did not mind a bit. After living in the shadow of the workhouse for so long, it was a relief to have a home and a family she could call her own at last.

  Even though she knew she would not be there to see the final result, Peggy decided to go along to the first meeting of the Christmas show, just out of curiosity.