‘Look at us, all together again.’ Grace smiled around the table. ‘Can you believe it’s three years since we first started our training? I don’t know about you, but I didn’t think I’d make it through the first day, let alone six weeks of preliminary training!’
‘I didn’t make it, did I?’ Dulcie said gloomily. ‘I failed PTS and had to do it all again.’
‘At least you came back,’ Grace said.
‘I was ready to go home that first day,’ Anna remembered. ‘I sat in my room at Porthleven House that first day and cried my eyes out. I think I would have run away if Sedgewick hadn’t knocked on my door and asked to borrow a hairpin.’
‘I’ll let you into a little secret, shall I?’ Sadie grinned. ‘I heard you crying through the wall so I thought I’d better do something.’
‘You didn’t?’ Anna stared at her friend’s laughing face. ‘I didn’t know anyone heard me.’
‘Blimey, girl, you were sobbing so loud I’m amazed they didn’t hear you in the main hospital building!’ Sadie grinned. She looked like a doll, with her honey-gold hair and wide green eyes. Until she opened her mouth. Her rough East End accent had only broadened since she had started district nursing on the streets of Bethnal Green.
Anna saw Miriam’s mouth purse fastidiously. She and Sadie had clashed endlessly during their training – mainly due to jealousy on Miriam’s part, she thought.
‘Thank you for rescuing me, anyway,’ she said to Sadie.
‘Don’t mention it, mate. That’s what friends are for, ain’t it?’
Anna gazed around the table. These girls truly were her friends, she thought. Or perhaps sisters would be a better description. They had not chosen each other, but fate had thrown them together in the same set, and they had become like an odd little family.
And God knows, they had fought like sisters sometimes. They bickered, and fell out, and said petty, spiteful things to each other. Anna could remember times when she could have cheerfully wrung their necks. But like sisters they had stuck together, defended and consoled each other.
It gave her a physical pain to think how much she would miss them.
‘Who’d have thought we’d still be here, three years later?’ she said out loud.
‘Not me!’ Dulcie grimaced.
‘No, you thought you’d be married to a doctor by now.’ Miriam gave her a malicious little smile.
‘So did you,’ Dulcie shot back.
‘Hark at them,’ Sadie said. ‘Some things never change, do they? They were pecking at each other on that very first day, as I recall.’ She winked at Anna. ‘Bet you won’t miss all the arguments, will you?’
Anna smiled. ‘Actually, I think I will.’
‘Get on with you! You’ll be too busy with that handsome husband of yours to give us lot a second thought.’
She was right, Anna thought. She had been so caught up thinking about what she was losing, she hadn’t really stopped to think about what she would gain.
Edward had certainly been a lot happier since Anna agreed to give up nursing and return to the bakery full-time. And he had been overjoyed when Mrs Church had left a few days earlier.
Anna still cringed to think about her last conversation with her. She had tried to be kind about it, but Ida Church took it very badly indeed.
‘I suppose this is all his doing?’ she had said, nodding towards the kitchen. The faint sounds of Edward’s merry whistling came from beyond the door.
‘We decided it together,’ Anna insisted firmly.
‘Don’t give me that! It was his idea, and you went along with it as usual.’ Mrs Church’s eyes narrowed. ‘He’s been wanting to get rid of me ever since he moved in. He knows I’m wise to him.’ She jabbed a finger at Anna. ‘Well, I just hope you know what you’re doing, my girl. You might think he can do no wrong, but you’ll soon find out different, believe me!’
Anna stared at her. No wonder Edward didn’t want her around!
‘Please don’t speak about my husband like that,’ she said, fighting to keep the anger out of her voice.
‘Listen to you, defending him again!’ Mrs Church’s thin lips curled. ‘He knows how to charm his way round you, all right. God knows, I’ve watched him do it enough times.’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, he’s clever, I’ll give him that. But one day you’ll wake up and see him for what he really is.’
‘I think you’d better go,’ Anna said.
‘I’m going, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t stop here for all the tea in China. Not after the way you’ve treated me.’
Mrs Church went into the hall and unhooked her coat from the hallstand. Anna watched as she struggled to get into it, punching her arms through the sleeves in her agitation.
‘I shouldn’t think Charlie will be working here much longer, either,’ she said. ‘My sister reckons your husband’s a bad influence on the boy. She’s only allowed him to stay this long because I’ve been here to keep an eye on him.’
Good thing too, Anna thought as she watched Mrs Church jamming her hat on her head.
‘You don’t know the half of it,’ Ida went on. ‘But you’ll find out soon enough. There’ll be no more charm once he’s got you where he wants you, you’ll see another side to him then.’
Anna fought to control her temper. But her hand was trembling as she held it out.
‘I’ll have your keys, if you don’t mind?’ she said. ‘You won’t be needing them anymore.’
Mrs Church shot her a venomous look, then fished in her coat pocket. She drew out the jingling bunch of keys and slapped them into Anna’s palm.
‘Good luck to you,’ she said. ‘I daresay you’ll need it.’
They lingered for as long as they could over their tea and cakes, laughing about the fun they’d had, and the dreadful ward sisters they had endured. They were having such a good time Anna didn’t want it to end. But all too soon Miriam looked up and said,
‘Gracious, look, it’s gone four. Miss Sutton will have my guts for garters if I’m not back on the ward at five.’
‘Me too,’ Dulcie said.
Anna felt a sharp pang of regret as she watched them gathering up their coats and hats. She had only been away from the place for a couple of hours, but she already missed it.
There was a flurry of hugs and kisses and goodbyes. When it was Grace’s turn she hugged Anna fiercely.
‘You will be all right, won’t you?’ she mumbled into her friend’s ear.
‘Of course.’
‘And you’ll keep in touch?’
‘I promise.’
‘Oh, do stop being wet, Duffield!’ Miriam snapped. ‘Trust you to get all sentimental about everything. You’ll be seeing her soon, anyway. Saunders’ wedding?’ she said, as Anna looked blank. ‘You are still coming, aren’t you?’
‘You can’t miss the social event of the year,’ Dulcie put in dryly.
‘If I get an invitation,’ Anna said.
‘Oh, you’ll get one,’ Dulcie predicted. ‘Saunders wouldn’t want anyone to miss the chance of seeing her walking up the aisle in white.’
‘Whereas your wedding will be such a quiet, understated affair,’ Sadie said.
‘If it ever happens,’ Miriam added acidly.
Sadie rolled her eyes at Anna. ‘Here we go again!’
As they left, Grace suddenly turned back to her. ‘I meant what I said about keeping in touch?’
‘So did I.’
‘Do you promise? And if there’s ever anything you want, or you need to talk to someone …’ There was a message in her eyes that Anna didn’t quite understand.
‘I’ll remember,’ she said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The following week there was an outing to the picture house for some of the men on Monaghan ward, and Dulcie was invited.
The sisters on the military wards often received free tickets to the pictures or the theatre or the music hall, from people keen to show their appreciation for the work they were doing with brave wounded
soldiers. Usually they would hand the tickets over to one of the junior nurses and ask them to organise the outing.
This time the task had fallen to Miriam Trott, which was why Dulcie was so surprised to be included. As far as she was concerned, there was no love lost between her and Miriam. But the mystery was solved when Miriam explained that the nurse who was supposed to come with her, Hilda Wharton, had been confined to the sick bay with a bad cold.
‘And everyone else was busy, so it was either you or Nurse Hanley,’ she said.
Dulcie was thankful for a free night out, even if she did have to put up with Miriam Trott all evening. At least it was a chance to dress up. She chose her outfit carefully, picking out her favourite blue dress. Her mother had made it for her, copying the pattern carefully from a dress Dulcie had seen in Selfridge’s.
It was a good match, she thought. Anyone seeing it would probably think it was the real thing.
She longed for the day she could buy anything she wanted. Being able to shop for a dress up west, having assistants fussing around you, commissionaires opening the door as you emerged with your purchases, that was as much a part of the pleasure for her as actually wearing an expensive dress.
But one day, she told herself. One day she would have an account in Selfridge’s and then she would be able to buy whatever she liked and sign her name with a flourish.
Mrs Dulcie Logan.
And she would never have to wear a home-made dress again.
Home-made or not, the men waiting by the double doors to Monaghan ward certainly seemed to appreciate her as she walked towards them.
‘Aye, aye, lads. Here’s a sight for sore eyes!’ One of the men, a burly corporal called George Yeoman, nudged the man next to him.
The others joined in, whistling their admiration.
‘Don’t you look nice, Nurse? Civvies suit you.’
‘Blimey, you scrub up well, don’t you?’
‘If I’d known you were that pretty, I’d have asked you out earlier!’
Dulcie accepted their compliments with a smile. But all the while she was aware of Sam Trevelyan, standing silently to one side.
She hadn’t expected him to be there. The sight of him standing in his hospital uniform, leaning on a walking stick, unsettled her for some reason.
‘Listen to you all. Anyone would think you’d never seen a girl in a dress before!’ Miriam Trott snorted.
‘Not a girl like her we haven’t!’ Private Hobbs leered.
Miriam’s pinched little face flushed. Dulcie guessed she hadn’t received such an admiring reception.
‘Shall we go?’ Miriam said, her voice tight with annoyance. ‘I’ll lead the way.’
It was the middle of March, but there was still no sign of spring. The trees in Victoria Park were starkly bare against the dismal grey sky, and a bitter wind blew as they set off along Bethnal Green Road.
Dulcie stayed at the back of the group, helping Private Hobbs, a young man with an amputated foot. Sam Trevelyan was at the front, his limping steps at first keeping up with Miriam Trott’s briskly tapping heels. But then, gradually, he fell back until he was level with Dulcie.
‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said in a low voice.
‘I could say the same about you. I didn’t think you were the type to go on an outing?’
He sent her a sideways look. ‘Am I that much of a misery guts?’
‘Well, now you come to mention it …’
Sam shook his head. ‘I’m a reformed character,’ he said. ‘I even played whist with someone last week.’
‘You didn’t!’
‘I did.’
‘You’ll be joining in with one of Nurse Trott’s sing-songs next!’
Sam grimaced. ‘God forbid! I’d never go that far.’ Then he paused and said, ‘You do look nice, by the way.’
‘Thank you.’
‘That colour suits you. It matches your eyes.’
She could feel herself blushing. ‘Two compliments, Sergeant? You really are a reformed character, aren’t you?’
‘You’d be surprised.’
For a moment they looked at each other, and Dulcie felt a tiny surge of something like panic. She broke the silence.
‘Aren’t you going to ask me how I’m getting on on Wilson ward?’
He looked amused. ‘How are you getting on?’ He looked at her left hand. ‘Not engaged yet, I see?’
‘It’s only a matter of time,’ she said lightly.
‘I’m sure. You seem very determined.’ The way he said it, she wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a compliment or not.
When they reached Smart’s Picture House, Miriam made them wait in the foyer while she went off to the box office to sort out the tickets.
‘I wish people wouldn’t keep looking at us,’ Private Hobbs muttered.
Dulcie gazed around. She hadn’t noticed it before but they were drawing quite a lot of attention in their hospital uniforms. Some of the crowd seemed friendly; others were gawping openly at the men’s missing limbs and injured faces.
‘Seen enough, have you?’ Corporal Yeoman snarled, glaring round at them all. ‘P’raps you’d like to pay for a ticket to see us instead of the film?’
‘Corporal, please!’ Dulcie begged, but Corporal Yeoman was already squaring up to one of the men, his one remaining fist raised.
‘Come on, then,’ he challenged him, but the man just laughed.
‘You’re joking, mate. I’d never hit a cripple. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.’
Corporal Yeoman’s face flushed red, but Sam Trevelyan stepped in.
‘Leave it, George.’ His voice was low but full of authority. ‘He’s not worth it.’
For a tense moment George Yeoman carried on squaring up to the man. Then he let his fist drop to his side.
‘You’re right,’ he muttered, turning away.
‘Coward,’ the young civilian said under his breath. The sight of his jeering face brought a red mist down in front of Dulcie’s eyes. Before she knew what she was doing, she had grabbed the man by the sleeve and wheeled him round to face her.
‘How dare you?’ she roared. ‘You’re the coward, not him! What was your excuse, then? Short-sighted? Flat feet? I suppose you’ve ended up with some cushy office job? What a hero you are, shuffling forms all day. Takes a real man to do something like that, I reckon.’ The man flushed deep crimson. ‘And yet you dare to stare and call these men names? I’ll bet the closest you ever get to Vimy Ridge or Cambrai is reading about them in the newspaper while you’re safe at home.’
‘Moore! What do you think you’re doing?’ Miriam had returned from the box office, a sheaf of tickets in her hand. ‘Stop making a show of yourself at once.’
Dulcie looked round at the ring of wounded soldiers, all staring at her in astonishment, then back at the man in front of her. He seemed to have shrunk before her, shrivelling into his smart suit, his face puce with embarrassment. Even his lady friend was glaring at him as if seeing him for the first time.
‘Come on!’ Miriam Trott took her arm, leading her away. But Dulcie hadn’t finished yet.
‘You’re pathetic,’ she called back over her shoulder. ‘Corporal Yeoman might only have one arm but I bet he’d still be able to knock you out with a single punch!’
‘Really, Moore, don’t you know how to behave?’ Miriam hissed as they took their seats in the darkened picture house.
‘I don’t care. He deserved it,’ Dulcie said.
‘You’ll soon care if someone tells Matron!’
‘And who’s going to do that? You?’ Dulcie stared at Miriam, who coloured guiltily.
‘No. Of course not,’ she muttered. ‘Is everyone here?’ she changed the subject abruptly, standing up to count heads. ‘Five, six, seven … there’s one missing. Who’s missing?’
‘Trevelyan went to the kiosk to buy cigarettes,’ Private Hobbs called out.
Miriam looked vexed. ‘I do wish he’d told me. How am I supposed to keep track of everyon
e when—’
‘Here I am.’ Sam Trevelyan limped towards them. ‘Sorry, Nurse.’
‘I should think so. Sit down please, Sergeant, the film is about to start.’
As it happened, Dulcie was nearest the end of the row, and the only vacant seat was beside her.
‘Did you get your cigarettes?’ she whispered to him.
Sam nodded. ‘And I got you these.’
Dulcie looked down at the box he had handed her. ‘Violet creams,’ she said.
‘Sorry there isn’t a private box to go with them. But I suppose it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?’
Their eyes met again, and Dulcie felt a tiny jolt of sensation.
‘Yes,’ she said, gazing at the chocolates. ‘I suppose it is.’
After the film had ended, they made their way back to the hospital. Some of the men wanted to go to the pub, but Miriam Trott was having none of it.
‘I promised Sister I would have you all back before she went off duty,’ she said primly. ‘Besides, a public house is not the place for respectable young ladies,’ she added, looking sideways at Dulcie.
‘I know that, Nurse,’ Corporal Yeoman said. ‘It’s the ones who’re not respectable we’re after. Ain’t that right?’ He turned to his fellow soldiers, who all laughed in agreement.
Dulcie thought they might have a riot on their hands, but then Sam said, ‘Nurse Trott’s right. We ought to be getting back. Unless you fancy facing up to Miss Sutton’s rage, because I certainly don’t.’
The men’s laughter died.
‘Come to think of it, I am feeling a bit tired.’ Private Hobbs feigned a yawn.
‘You could be right,’ another of the men, Sergeant Silcott, agreed. ‘Miss Sutton’s got a worse temper than my missus, and that’s saying something!’
‘You’re lucky you won’t have to put up with it for much longer,’ Corporal Yeoman said to Sam.
‘Why’s that?’ Dulcie asked.
‘Haven’t you heard?’ Sergeant Silcott said. ‘He’s got his marching orders. Ain’t that right, Sammy lad?’
Dulcie looked at Sam. ‘You’re being discharged?’
Nightingale Wedding Bells Page 24
