Sometimes she could tell what the day would bring from the night before. If Edward had won on the cards, he would probably be laughing and joking in the morning. If he had lost – which was the case more often than not – he would be surly and snappish.
Last night he hadn’t returned until the early hours. Anna had lain rigid, pretending to be asleep. But she could smell Nellie’s cheap scent coming off him as he undressed and got into bed beside her.
She turned the corner and stopped in her tracks. There was a man up a ladder outside the bakery, a paintbrush in one hand, pot of paint in the other.
Anna ran down the street, pushing past the late-afternoon shoppers.
‘What are you doing?’ she called up to the workman.
‘What does it look like?’ he shouted back.
The words ‘Beck’s Bakery’ were already half obliterated under a thick coat of black paint. ‘Who told you to do it?’
He jerked his head towards the shop. ‘Better ask the boss.’
Anna stood her ground. ‘I want you to stop,’ she said.
‘Can’t do that, Missus. I’ve got my orders, y’see.’
Anna stormed into the shop. It was empty, except for Nellie half-heartedly organising jam tarts on a plate. She looked up as Anna came in, slamming the door behind her.
‘Afternoon,’ she said with that sly little smile of hers. Anna ignored her, lifting the flap in the counter to go through to the back.
‘Edward!’
He emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.
‘Hello, love,’ he said. He was all smiles, but for once that hardly mattered to Anna.
‘What are you playing at? You can’t paint over my father’s name.’
His face darkened, like clouds passing over the sun. ‘I can do what I like.’
‘But this has been Beck’s Bakery for the past twenty-five years!’
‘And now it’s mine.’ His chin lifted. ‘I can’t wait to see my name up over the door, where it belongs.’ He held up his hands, as if he was picturing it. ‘Stanning’s. It’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’
Anna was half aware of Nellie, standing in the doorway, watching them with interest.
‘You must tell the signwriter to stop.’
Edward folded his arms across his chest. ‘Says who?’
‘Me.’
He smiled nastily. ‘Ah, but I don’t have to take orders from you anymore, do I? I ain’t the apprentice. I’m the boss now. And once my name’s over the door, everyone will know it.’
She looked at him and felt a searing rage that burned away her fear.
‘Do you really think you can take my father’s place just by painting out his name on a sign?’ She spat the words out scornfully. She saw Edward’s eyes narrow but she was too angry to stop. Seeing him trying to obliterate her father’s memory had unleashed a fury in her that she’d thought was long gone.
‘I know why you’re doing this,’ she said. ‘You’re jealous. That’s why you want to wipe out Papa’s name, because you know you’ll never be half the man he is.’
‘That’s enough!’ The stinging slap caught her off guard. Behind her, Anna heard Nellie hiss with shock.
She put her hand up to her cheek, feeling the jarred bones. Edward towered over her, tall and threatening.
‘I’m sick of listening to you going on about your father as if he was some kind of hero!’ He grabbed her by her shoulders, shaking her like a rag doll. ‘When are you going to face the fact that he’s gone? He’s scuttled back to his little German rat hole, and good riddance to him.’ Edward’s mouth curled into a sneer. ‘Christ, all those years I had to kow-tow to that self-satisfied little German, not to mention your snobbish cow of a mother!’
Anna stared up at him in horror. ‘You – you don’t mean that. My father loved you, he treated you like a son.’
‘He treated me like a bloody servant!’ Edward cut her off. ‘I had to go cap in hand to them for everything, to be grateful for his charity. The only time he started to treat me with any respect was when I decided to take up with you. But even then your mother and sister still looked down their noses at me. As far as they were concerned I was the kid from the orphanage. I should have known my place.’ He looked around with a self-satisfied smirk. ‘Well, I know my place now, don’t I?’
But Anna wasn’t listening. Her mind had snagged on a few words.
‘You – decided to take up with me?’
‘How else was I going to get my hands on this place?’ He sent her a pitying look. ‘What? You really believed I’d fallen in love with you? Do me a favour! I could have done a lot better than you, believe me. I even thought about trying my luck with Liesel, since she’s prettier,’ he said casually. ‘But she’s a high-handed bitch like her mother, and I knew she wouldn’t look twice at me. But you,’ he sneered. ‘You were desperate, weren’t you? Poor, plain little Anna. I could see it written all over your face, you couldn’t believe your luck when I showed an interest in you. And neither could your precious papa.’ He gave a snort of laughter. ‘God, the relief on his face when he found out about us! I daresay he was wondering if he’d ever be able to marry you off.’
This time it was Anna who lashed out. Her hand connected with Edward’s cheek, but with nowhere near as much force as he’d struck her.
‘Get out!’ she hissed.
Edward laughed, nursing his jaw. ‘I ain’t going anywhere. This bakery was mine the day I married you. But you’re welcome to go if you want. I certainly ain’t going to stop you. It would be a blessing if you did go, then at least I wouldn’t have to put up with you whining about your bloody father!’ He leaned closer, his blue eyes glacial with anger. ‘But that sign over the door is there now, and there it will stay. I’m telling you, I’m in charge here. And there’s nothing you can do to change that!’
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
There was a week to go until Sylvia’s June wedding, and this time it wasn’t only the bride who couldn’t stop talking about it.
‘Do you think I should wear my hair up or down?’ Dulcie pushed her brown curls on top of her head and turned this way and that, admiring her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. ‘Up shows off my face more, don’t you think? But then I suppose it all depends which hat I’m wearing … Duffield, are you listening to me?’
Grace looked up vaguely from polishing her shoes. Dulcie had twisted round from the mirror to look at her.
‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?’ she accused. ‘Mind you, I don’t even know why I’m bothering to ask your opinion. I’ve never seen you do anything to your hair but pin it out of the way.’
Grace put up her hand to touch a strand of her light brown hair. ‘It’s practical.’
‘Who wants to be practical?’ Dulcie turned back to face her reflection. ‘I’d rather be pretty any day.’ She teased a couple of curls to frame her face and smiled coquettishly at herself.
Grace watched her wistfully for a moment. It had never occurred to her she could even try to be pretty. Her mother had certainly not put such ideas in her head. As far as she was concerned, clothes only needed to be warm and practical enough to withstand the rigours of farm work.
Dulcie had grown up in the country too yet she knew all about the latest styles and fashions. From what Grace could tell, her mother had encouraged her interest, sewing her copies of the dresses she had seen in magazines, teaching her how to do all kinds of fancy things to her hair.
Sarah Duffield had never encouraged Grace to think much of herself. In her opinion time spent in front of the mirror was time wasted, especially where her daughter was concerned. As she had said to Grace often enough, ‘You’ll never make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.’
‘Anyway, you could be more interested,’ Dulcie said. ‘This is my big chance, remember?’
‘How could I forget?’ Grace murmured. She went back to polishing her shoes.
‘Of course, I knew Robert would not
ice me in the end,’ Dulcie said. ‘Although I must say, I didn’t think it would take this long.’ She giggled. ‘It sounds funny to call him Robert, doesn’t it? But I suppose I shall have to get used to it. I mean, I can’t call him Dr Logan when we’re married, can I?’
Grace said nothing. She kept her eyes fixed on her polish brush, going back and forth across the toes of her shoes.
‘I wonder why it took him so long to ask me out? I daresay he’s just shy, don’t you think?’ she answered her own question. ‘I mean, he can still scarcely get up the nerve to speak to me. Have you noticed that? It’s so sweet, don’t you think? Duffield?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Don’t you think it’s sweet that he can hardly dare to speak to me? Mind you, I hope he plucks up some courage at this wedding,’ she laughed. ‘I shall be very disappointed if he doesn’t kiss me before the evening is out.’ She leaned forward, pouting her lips to kiss her own reflection. Then she looked at Grace in the mirror. ‘Careful, Duffield, you’ll polish the leather away if you keep scrubbing at them like that!’
Grace was aware of Dulcie watching her as she put down the cloth and started buffing her shoes with a cloth.
‘You seem very agitated today,’ Dulcie commented at last.
‘Do I?’
‘Yes. And I think I know why, too. It’s him, isn’t it?’
‘What?’ Grace looked up sharply.
‘That soldier – what’s his name? Gordon. He’s being discharged today, isn’t he? I bet that’s what’s upset you. I know how attached you get to them all,’ she said.
‘Yes.’ Grace set down her shoes. ‘Yes, that must be the reason.’
Perhaps she was right, Grace thought. As it happened, she was upset at the thought of Private Gordon leaving. He was being sent to a convalescent home up in Scotland, close to where his family lived. Grace was pleased for him, but knew she would miss him.
The first person Grace saw when she walked on to the ward was Dr Logan. He was at the far end of the ward, talking to Private Gordon.
Try as she might, Grace’s gaze still seemed to seek him out. And his seemed to do the same, head lifting the moment she walked in. For a moment they stared at each other down the length of the ward.
‘Look at him,’ Dulcie said beside her in a thrilled whisper. ‘He can’t take his eyes off me. Do you think I should go and say hello to him?’
‘Not if you want to stay out of trouble with Sister,’ Grace whispered back.
‘And I fully recommend you do stay out of trouble, Nurse.’ Sister’s brisk Scottish voice rang out behind them, making them both jump. Miss Parker was so slight, she constantly managed to creep up on unsuspecting nurses, unlike Miss Sutton’s heavy, ponderous tread that could be heard like distant thunder.
As ward sister, Miss Parker was not supposed to come on duty until eight o’clock, but had a nasty habit of arriving an hour early, just to catch out any nurses who trailed in a few minutes late, or who didn’t help out the night staff.
‘Nurse Duffield, I want you to pack up Private Gordon’s belongings for him,’ she said.
Grace opened her mouth to speak but Dulcie got there before her.
‘I’ll do it, Sister.’
Miss Parker frowned at her. ‘You, Nurse? I don’t think I can ever recall you volunteering for extra duties before?’
‘I just want to help, Sister.’ Dulcie lowered her eyes demurely.
Grace glanced at Dr Logan, still deep in conversation with Gordon and Albie Sallis. She knew Dulcie was anxious to help Private Gordon for exactly the same reason as Grace was anxious not to.
‘That’s very commendable of you, Moore.’ Miss Parker did not look convinced. ‘But I think this is best left to Duffield. She has more of an affinity with Private Gordon. You can help with the bedpan round,’ she added as an afterthought.
‘Well, I like that!’ Dulcie stared after Miss Parker as she marched off down the ward. ‘You’d think she’d be happy I was showing an interest. Affinity, indeed!’ she huffed. ‘As if I can’t throw a few belongings in a stupid old suitcase!’
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
‘All right, Nurse?’ Albie Sallis hailed Grace with a smile as she approached Private Gordon’s bed. ‘Come to see him off, have you?’
‘Yes, indeed, Corporal Sallis. And to pack his belongings.’
‘You hear that, mate? You’ve got your own batman.’ Albie grinned at Gordon. ‘And there was us thinking only the officers had those privileges!’
Grace glanced at Dr Logan. He was studying a chart, his back half turned to her.
‘Mind you, you’re a lot better-looking than most of the batmen I’ve ever met,’ Albie went on. ‘Don’t you reckon, Doctor?’
Dr Logan did not respond. He went on staring at the chart as if his life depended on it.
Albie winked at Grace. ‘Look at him, he’s in a world of his own. You want to watch out, Gordon lad. The way he’s looking at your chart, I reckon he wants to find an excuse to keep you in here a bit longer!’
Private Gordon sent them a sheepish look. ‘I wouldn’t mind if he did.’
‘Listen to that, Nurse. Reckon our Gordon’s got a soft spot for you!’
Grace jumped as Dr Logan slammed down the chart. Then he stalked off without a word.
‘Someone got out of bed the wrong side this morning,’ Albie commented. ‘And he’s usually such a friendly sort, too. What’s got into him, I wonder?’
‘I’ve no idea, Corporal Sallis.’ Grace watched Dr Logan until he disappeared into Sister’s office. Then she fixed a bright smile on her face and turned back to face Private Gordon. ‘Right, let’s see about packing up this bag, shall we?’
All too soon, it was time for Private Gordon to leave. Albie Sallis fell silent for once as Grace helped Gordon into the wheelchair that was to transport him to the waiting ambulance.
It wasn’t until they were ready to leave that he spoke again.
‘Well, all the best, mate.’ He shook Gordon’s hand. ‘Have a good time at the convalescent home, won’t you? And remember – just because you can walk again it don’t mean you can go running after all them nurses!’
Gordon gave him a lopsided grin. ‘I r-reckon they’ll be r-running after me.’
It was the first time in a long time that Grace had heard him stammer, a sure sign he was nervous.
‘Listen to him, Nurse!’ Albie crowed with laughter, but his eyes glistened with tears. ‘Talk about big-headed! Have you ever heard the like?’
Just then Sister appeared, accompanied by an orderly. ‘Ready, Private Gordon?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever b-be,’ Gordon replied. He turned back to Albie. ‘Take care of yourself. And thank you,’ he said. ‘If it hadn’t b-been for you taking me under your w-wing, I don’t think I would have ever p-pulled through this.’
‘Oh, stop it! Don’t get all soppy on me now, for gawd’s sake!’ Albie looked away, his voice gruff with emotion.
He didn’t look back until Private Gordon had gone. He kept his gaze fixed on the ward doors all the while Grace was stripping Gordon’s bed.
‘He will be all right, won’t he, Nurse?’ he said finally.
‘Of course he will, Corporal Sallis.’
‘And they’ll look after him properly?’
Grace looked at Albie. His voice was flat, less ebullient than she had ever heard it.
‘They’ll take good care of him,’ she said.
‘I hope so. He can be a funny bugger, y’see. If you’ll pardon my French. Bit too quiet.’
‘I’m sure he’ll make friends soon.’
‘Yes.’ Albie looked troubled by the thought. ‘He’s asked me to write to him, but I dunno if I’ll bother. I ain’t really much of a one for letters.’
‘I’m sure he’d be disappointed if he didn’t hear from you.’
‘D’you think so?’ Albie looked up at her.
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘But like you said, he’ll make new friends.’<
br />
‘That doesn’t mean he’ll forget you. You heard what he said, your friendship means a great deal to him.’
‘I s’pose so.’ Albie paused for a moment, taking it in. ‘I won’t know what I’m going to do with myself now he’s gone,’ he said at last. ‘It gave me a sort of purpose, looking after him. And now …’
Then his grin returned and he said, ‘Hark at me, I must be going soft in my old age! Take no notice of me, Nurse. I dunno what I’m saying half the time.’
Grace finished stripping the bed and put the dirty sheets in a bag, ready to go to the laundry. As she returned from the sluice, she noticed Albie sitting forlornly on his own, staring into space. He looked so lost, her heart went out to him.
Sister was at her desk in the middle of the ward, deep in conversation with Dr Logan. Grace promptly changed her mind about approaching them. She had just turned away when Miss Parker called after her, ‘Was there something you wanted, Nurse?’
Grace turned back reluctantly to face them. ‘I wondered, Sister, whether it would be all right to spend some time with Corporal Sallis? He was such good friends with Private Gordon, it’s going to be difficult for him now.’ She risked a glance at Dr Logan. He had his back to her, ignoring her presence.
‘I think that would be an excellent idea, Nurse. What do you say, Doctor?’ She turned to Dr Logan.
His shoulders lifted in a non-committal shrug that made Grace’s blood boil in her veins. Why was he being so childish? It wasn’t as if he didn’t have anyone to take to Sylvia’s wedding, after all.
‘Certainly you may spend time with him, Nurse, if you truly think it will help.’ Miss Parker looked at the clock. ‘But aren’t you supposed to be off duty from ten o’clock until two? It’s twenty to ten now.’
‘I won’t spend too long with him, Sister. I just want to make sure he’s all right.’
Grace stared at Dr Logan’s turned back as she said it. The tips of his ears glowed scarlet through his neatly trimmed dark hair.
Grace had only intended to spend a short while with Albie Sallis, but was so engrossed in their game of whist, she didn’t notice the time until Dulcie came up to her.
Nightingale Wedding Bells Page 29
