‘I mean you’re not the only one who’s capable of deception, Mr Tillery. I’m not the woman you think I am, either.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’m not a wealthy heiress. I am a nurse at the Nightingale Hospital in Bethnal Green.’
His frown deepened. ‘But I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me the truth?’
Miriam laughed harshly. ‘That’s rich, coming from you!’
‘I suppose you’re right.’ He looked downcast. ‘So you’re a nurse, you say? And I suppose there’s no mansion in Kensington, either?’ Miriam shook her head. ‘And no wicked uncle trying to get his hands on your tea plantation?’
Even now, she could see the faintest glimmer of amusement in his sea-green eyes.
Her chin lifted. ‘Disappointed, are you?’
‘Well yes, I suppose I am. It would have been nice if you’d had a fortune stashed away, I must admit.’
‘I daresay it would!’ Miriam gasped. Frank Tillery had a nerve, she had to admit that. Even now he seemed completely unrepentant.
‘But it doesn’t really change anything, does it?’ Frank went on. ‘I still love you. I’ll just have to carry on earning my own living, that’s all.’ He smiled wryly.
Miriam stared at him, stunned. Was she really hearing this? ‘You can’t possibly mean that? You propose to go on – doing whatever it is you do?’
‘Why not?’ He shrugged. ‘Look, I know you don’t approve, but I promise you’ll get used to it in time. You might even find it rather exciting.’
Once again he tried to reach for her, but this time Miriam was too quick for him.
‘You’re disgusting!’ she spat out the words. ‘Quite the most appalling man I’ve ever met in my life. Do you seriously think I’d want any part in what you do?’
‘Miriam—’
‘Don’t touch me! I don’t ever want to see your face or hear from you again, do you understand?’ She thrust the flowers back at him, hitting him square in the chest. ‘And you can give these to someone else, too.’
‘Miriam, please. Listen to me—’
‘I don’t want to listen to any more of your lies, thank you very much. Just go back to Vanessa and Lady Hortense and all your other women. I hope they make you very rich and very happy!’
Furious as she was, it was hard to make herself walk away. She had half expected him to follow her, but he didn’t. It was only when she was at a safe distance that she finally allowed herself to look back.
There was Frank, still standing there watching her, looking like a lost little boy, scarlet carnations strewn around his feet.
Daisy
1st December 1945
‘Oh go on, it’ll be fun,’ Daisy said.
‘Fun?’ Her friend Rose Trent did not look up from the textbook she was studying. ‘It sounds awful. I can’t think of anything worse.’ She flipped the page, still not looking up. ‘Sorry, Baker, you can count me out this time.’
Daisy pulled a face. It wasn’t like Rose not to join in when she had one of her good ideas.
‘They’ve never had a Christmas show at the Nightingale since we’ve been here,’ she went on, disregarding her friend’s lack of interest. ‘I heard two of the staff nurses talking about it earlier on. They were saying how much they used to enjoy putting on a performance for the patients. I’ll bet everyone else is doing it,’ she added, looking round the common room. Usually there would be music playing on the gramophone and girls chatting and gossiping, but today the other half a dozen students all sat with their noses in their books. The State Finals were coming up and no one wanted to fail.
Rose had also taken to her books, much to Daisy’s frustration.
‘We could sing a song,’ Daisy said.
‘Neither of us is remotely musical, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Then how about a comedy skit of some kind? We could poke fun at Sister Wren. That would be a scream, wouldn’t it? Our chance to get revenge on her for the awful way she treats us.’ Daisy gazed down at her hands. Once they had been her pride and joy, but now they were red raw where Sister had them scrubbing floors and bathrooms day in and day out.
‘Are you mad?’ Rose said. ‘We have another two months on Wren ward. Imagine how she’d make us suffer if we upset her. She’s hard enough on us as it is.’
‘We’ll think of something else then,’ Daisy said.
‘I told you, I’m having nothing to do with it. You can jolly well do it on your own, if you’re that keen.’
Daisy was horrified. ‘Oh no, it wouldn’t be nearly so much fun by myself. Besides, you know I can’t do anything without my terrible twin!’
Rose smiled reluctantly. ‘That’s true.’
Since the day they had arrived for training three years earlier and been assigned to share a room, they had been the best of friends. They went through Preliminary Training together, studied together, worked together on the wards and even spent their rare days off together. They were more like sisters than friends, hence the nickname they had earned from the other girls in their set.
They might have passed for twins, too. They both had the same thick brown hair and hazel eyes, although Daisy liked to think hers were more green. But that was where the similarity ended. Daisy was the more outgoing of the pair. She loved boys, and dressing up, and excitement, and she was always the one surrounded by friends. Rose was the clever one, quieter and more thoughtful. But somehow they brought out the best in each other. Rose had dragged Daisy through her studies, and Daisy liked to think she brought out a fun side in her friend.
But for once it looked as if her friend was not going to get involved in her wild scheme.
‘I’m sorry, Baker,’ Rose shook her head. ‘The exams are coming up and we’ll need all our time to revise.’
‘There’s plenty of time for that,’ Daisy said airily. ‘Besides, you already know it all anyway.’
Rose’s mouth curved. ‘I wish I had your confidence.’
‘She’ll need more than confidence to get her through the State Finals!’ Betty Philips said from the other side of the room.
Daisy glared at her. Betty Philips fancied herself as the leader of their set, and was jealous of Daisy’s popularity. She had also never forgiven Daisy for stealing her boyfriend in their first year.
Daisy hadn’t set out to do it. It was hardly her fault that the medical student had decided he preferred her to Betty. She certainly hadn’t encouraged him, apart from the slightest hint of flirting while they were both on night duty. And once he had abandoned Betty, Daisy had made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. But for some reason that made Betty resent her even more.
‘Of course, you know why she really wants to be in this show, don’t you?’ Betty said to Rose.
‘Shut up, Philips,’ Daisy snapped. ‘I was having a private conversation with my friend, if you don’t mind.’
‘It’s because of Tom Armstrong,’ Betty went on, ignoring her. ‘She’s heard he’s going to be taking part, and she thinks this will give her a chance to get closer to him.’
‘Take no notice of her,’ Daisy said to Rose. ‘She thinks she knows everything.’
‘I know you’re always running after him like a puppy!’ Betty said, and the other girls laughed.
‘Oh, and you play so hard to get with men, don’t you?’ Daisy shot back.
‘For heaven’s sake!’ Rose closed her book with a loud bang, silencing them both. ‘I’m going to our room to revise in peace and quiet. You may think we’ll breeze through our exams, but I still need to get to grips with the bones of the human foot.’
‘I’ll come with you—’ Daisy started to her feet, but Rose stopped her.
‘No,’ she said. ‘You’ll only distract me, going on and on about this wretched show of yours.’
‘I wouldn’t have to go on and on if you’d just say yes,’ Daisy called after her as the common door closed.
Betty Philips turned on her. ‘Why don’t you le
ave the poor girl alone, Baker? Surely you must understand why she doesn’t want to get involved with this show?’
Daisy stared at her blankly. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You mean you don’t remember?’ Betty looked incredulous. ‘It’ll be a year at Christmas since her fiancé died.’
‘Oh!’
‘You really didn’t remember, did you?’ Betty shook her head, a nasty smile on her lips. ‘And you’re supposed to be her best friend!’
Daisy looked at the other girls’ reproachful faces. For once Betty was right; she should have remembered.
Rose had been engaged to be married to her childhood sweetheart, Laurence, but he was killed in a bombing raid over Germany just before last Christmas. Rose was devastated, and Daisy had spent months trying to pull her friend out of her deep despair.
Slowly but surely Rose had started to get better, and Daisy had hoped she was on the mend at last. But it simply hadn’t occurred to her that poor Rose might be dreading the anniversary coming up.
Her friend was sitting cross-legged on her bed when Daisy walked in. She looked up at her over the edge of her textbook, her expression wary.
‘I do hope you’re not going to start again—’ she began, but Daisy shook her head.
‘I won’t utter another word about it, I promise. I – I just wanted to say I’m sorry.’
‘What for?’ Rose looked surprised.
‘I should have thought before I opened my mouth. I know it’s coming up to a year since Laurence died—’ She saw the shadow pass over Rose’s face, her smile fading. ‘I should have realised the last thing you’d probably feel like doing is cavorting about on stage …’
Rose looked down at the textbook in her hands. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I am worried about how I’ll cope, with the anniversary coming up. That’s partly why I’ve been throwing myself into work, to try to push it to the back of my mind. And when you first mentioned this show, I really couldn’t imagine anything worse. But I’ve been thinking about it, and – I reckon it might be good for me.’
‘You do?’ Daisy stared at her in surprise. ‘What made you change your mind?’
‘I’ve been dreading Christmas.’ Rose’s face was forlorn, and it upset Daisy to realise how little she had noticed her friend’s sadness. ‘But it won’t make it any easier if I sit around feeling sorry for myself, will it? It might actually help if I try to keep busy.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘This show will certainly be a distraction, if nothing else.’
‘Are you sure? You know you don’t have to do it for my sake …’
‘I know,’ Rose said. ‘But I also know you probably won’t shut up about it unless I do. Besides, I can’t be the one to stand in the way of true love, can I?’
Daisy blushed. ‘Take no notice of Betty Philips. She’s a cat.’
‘She’s right, though, isn’t she? I know you like Tom Armstrong.’
Like wasn’t the right word, Daisy thought. She had already made up her mind that she was in love with the junior registrar. She had fallen for him from the first moment she saw him striding into the ward, his white coat flapping behind him. Now every time she saw him her heart did a little dance against her ribs.
And the fact that he barely seemed to notice her only piqued her interest even more. Without being too vain about it, Daisy knew that she could have almost any man she wanted at the Nightingale. But Tom Armstrong was a challenge, and she could never resist one of those.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
Rose smiled. ‘I only hope he’s worth us making fools of ourselves over!’ She put down her book. ‘But promise me we can find some time to study too?’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Daisy said. But her mind was already miles away from her books, wondering how she could impress Tom Armstrong.
As it turned out, they had very little chance to impress anyone at the first meeting. Daisy was still struggling to catch Tom’s eye across the room when Sister Wren got into an argument with the Assistant Matron. Before she knew what was happening the meeting had ended and they were all filing out of the dining room.
‘Well, that was a waste of time!’ Rose said. But Daisy was hardly listening.
‘Look,’ she hissed, ‘Tom Armstrong’s leaving. Let’s try to catch him at the door.’
Dragging a protesting Rose behind her, she made a dash for the door, elbowing her way through the crowd to get to him.
They arrived at the door just in time for her to accidentally on purpose brush shoulders with him.
‘Oh, hello, there.’ Daisy smiled at him, trying to look casual as she fought for breath. ‘I didn’t know you were here.’
‘Didn’t you?’ Tom Armstrong eyed her uneasily. He wasn’t her usual type by any means. She preferred her men dark and mysterious and well built. Dr Armstrong was tall and lean to the point of lankiness, and his hair was the colour of dirty straw. But he had a wonderful smile, and behind his spectacles his eyes were the colour of emeralds. ‘I could have sworn you were looking straight at me for most of the meeting.’
‘Was I? I must have been miles away,’ Daisy lied. She followed him out of the door and down the passageway, still dragging Rose behind her.
‘Are you taking part in the Christmas show?’ Tom asked.
‘Well, I wasn’t sure about it, but Rose talked me into coming.’ Daisy ignored Rose’s glare which she knew would be fixed on the back of her head. ‘How about you?’
‘I thought I might try out my magic act.’
‘You’re a magician?’
He looked embarrassed. ‘I’m not that good, I’ve only just started doing a few tricks. Now I’m not sure I’ll even bother to audition—’
‘Oh, but you must!’ Daisy burst out, then regretted it when she saw his startled expression. ‘I mean – where’s the harm in trying?’ she blathered on to hide her embarrassment. ‘Rose and I are definitely going to do something, aren’t we?’
‘Do you have an act prepared?’
‘We’re going to do a song together.’ Once again, she ignored her friend’s stunned expression.
‘So you’re musical, then?’
‘No,’ Rose said stonily.
‘Take no notice of her,’ Daisy said. ‘She’s just being modest.’
‘In that case I look forward to hearing you.’ He smiled at Rose.
‘And I look forward to seeing what tricks you have up your sleeve!’ Daisy flirted back.
As he walked off, Rose turned on her. ‘Why did you tell him we were singing? You know we’re both tone deaf!’
Daisy smiled, her gaze still following Tom Armstrong. ‘We’ll just have to think of something, won’t we?’
But finding a song that suited their voices was more difficult than she had imagined. It didn’t help that Rose refused to help her, and spent most of the week before the first rehearsal with her nose buried in an anatomy textbook.
‘We’ll fail the audition if we don’t practise!’ Daisy complained.
‘I’d rather fail an audition than my State Finals,’ Rose replied.
Without Rose to push her along, Daisy soon got distracted and gave up on finding a song. By the time they arrived at the first audition they were woefully unprepared.
It didn’t help when Betty Philips took to the stage and played the most perfect violin solo.
‘She’s awfully good, isn’t she?’ Rose whispered, awestruck.
‘Worse luck!’ Daisy groaned. ‘Why did they have to put her on before us? Now she’ll make us look even worse!’
All too soon it was their turn, and they took to the stage.
‘Well, this is it!’ Rose grimaced, as they stood side by side on the makeshift platform. Looking out over the rows of expectant faces, Daisy felt her throat dry up in panic. Right at the front sat Miss Davis the Assistant Matron, her pen poised, wearing her usual sour expression.
It did not go well. Neither of them knew the words, and halfway through the song Rose forgot the tune as well. Daisy co
uld feel her whole body engulfed in heat, as if she was blushing from her toes upwards. She tried not to look into the audience, but when she did the first face she saw was Betty Philips, laughing her head off with some of the other girls from their set.
At least Tom Armstrong didn’t seem to be paying any attention to them. He was too busy rehearsing his own tricks at the side of the stage.
After what seemed like an eternity, the song finished and they could escape at last.
‘I’m glad that’s over.’ Rose breathed a sigh of relief as they hurried from the stage to a smattering of sarcastic applause from Betty Philips and her cronies, and a cold glare from the Assistant Matron. ‘At least we won’t have to do that again.’
‘No,’ Daisy agreed sadly. All she could see were her dreams of getting to know Tom Armstrong fading into nothing.
Rose must have noticed her disappointment. ‘Cheer up,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you made an impression on him.’
‘Oh, I’m sure I have,’ Daisy said gloomily. ‘Now he thinks I’m a complete fool. I daresay he’ll want nothing more to do with me.’
‘Shall we stay and watch his act?’ Rose asked.
‘No,’ Daisy said. ‘Let’s go. I can’t stand the way Betty Philips is smirking at me.’
The following day, Daisy was emptying out bedpans in the sluice when to her surprise Tom Armstrong appeared in the doorway.
‘Can I have a word?’ he asked.
Daisy was so shocked she dropped the pan she was emptying. It landed in the sink with a dreadful clatter that she was sure would bring Sister Wren running.
She froze for a moment, steeling herself for the sound of footsteps. But no one came.
When she was sure it must be safe, she turned to Tom. ‘Yes, Doctor?’ she said politely.
‘Why don’t you call me Tom, since it’s just the two of us?’
A small thrill ran through her. ‘And you can call me Daisy,’ she said.
‘Daisy.’ She liked the way he said it, in that deep voice of his. She only wished she wasn’t standing in the sluice, surrounded by stinking bedpans. It was hardly the most romantic spot in the hospital.
‘I suppose you heard I made a complete fool of myself at the rehearsal yesterday?’ he said.
The Nightingale Christmas Show Page 17
