Nightingale Wedding Bells

by Donna Douglas

  ‘What are you doing?’ she hissed. ‘We’re supposed to be off duty now. We’re meeting the others by the gates at half-past ten, don’t forget.’

  ‘I’ll be there soon,’ Grace said.

  ‘But we’ll be late.’

  ‘Then you go without me,’ Grace cut her off. ‘I’ll join you as soon as I can.’

  ‘What’s this?’ Albie asked as Dulcie stomped off. ‘Got a date, have you?’

  ‘Hardly,’ Grace smiled. ‘Sylvia – Nurse Saunders – is having a wedding dress fitting and she’s invited some of us to go with her.’

  ‘Then why are you still here? You should go.’

  ‘I’m sure they won’t miss me.’ Grace laid down a card.

  ‘All the same, you should be there. It ain’t fair that you’re always the odd one out.’

  Grace looked up at him. Was that really how people saw her, the odd one out? ‘I really don’t mind.’

  ‘No, but I do.’ Albie gathered up the cards, ending the game. ‘You don’t have to sit here and keep me company,’ he insisted. ‘I’m old enough and ugly enough to look after myself. Besides,’ he added, his eyes twinkling with mischief, ‘it looked like you were going to win that round!’

  Grace laughed. ‘I think I was, for once!’ She stood up. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’

  ‘I’ll be fine. You get off to your wedding dress fitting.’

  Grace turned, just in time to see Dr Logan standing behind her. He stared from Albie to her and back again, then turned on his heel and walked off.

  ‘Not again! He’s really got the hump today, hasn’t he?’ Albie commented.

  ‘Yes,’ Grace sighed, watching him go. ‘Yes, I’m afraid he has.’

  Dulcie, Miriam and Mary Finnegan were already at the dressmaker’s when Grace arrived. As an assistant opened the door to her, she could hear them in the waiting room, twittering excitedly together like birds.

  ‘There you are!’ Miriam looked up at her accusingly. ‘We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.’

  ‘Where’s Saunders?’

  Mary Finnegan nodded towards a door. ‘Through there, getting dressed.’

  Grace sat down on the end of the row as the other three all turned towards each other to resume their giggling conversation. They were discussing which men were going to be at the wedding, and who might invite them to go as their escorts.

  Grace concentrated on taking off her gloves and smoothing them out in her lap. She was used to being left out of such conversations.

  Dulcie, of course, was very smug, since she already had an escort for the wedding. She made sure she kept mentioning it too, just to irritate Miriam. Grace couldn’t help smiling at the other girl’s tight-lipped expression.

  Suddenly, Mary Finnegan turned to Grace and said, ‘Do you have your eye on anyone, Duffield?’

  Miriam Trott gave an unkind snort. ‘What are you asking her for? She’s never even had a boyfriend.’

  ‘Neither have you,’ Dulcie pointed out. Then, to Grace’s dismay, added, ‘Anyway, Duffield will probably be married before any of us.’

  ‘Oh, yes? And how do you work that out?’ Miriam asked.

  Grace sent Dulcie a pleading look, which she ignored.

  ‘Because she’s engaged.’

  Grace’s heart sank. The other girls immediately turned to her, mouths agape.

  ‘Engaged?’

  ‘Never!’

  ‘But you’re not wearing a ring?’

  ‘That’s because it’s not true,’ Miriam declared. ‘Moore’s having us on.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Dulcie insisted. She looked at Grace. ‘Go on, tell them.’

  Grace stared down at her ringless left hand. ‘It is true,’ she said. ‘And I do have an engagement ring, I just – don’t like to wear it.’

  Noah had not seen anything wrong with giving her his dead wife’s ring, and her mother thought it a very practical idea.

  ‘Why go to all the expense of buying a new ring, when you’ve got a perfectly good one lying in a drawer?’ she said. ‘Besides, it’s not as if his wife’s going to need it, is it?’

  But somehow Grace could not bring herself to put it on.

  ‘So why haven’t you told us this before?’ Miriam wanted to know.

  ‘There isn’t much to tell.’

  Mary laughed. ‘Oh Duffield, that’s typical of you! Of course there’s a lot to tell. What’s his name, for a start? Where did you meet him?’

  ‘Is he handsome?’ Miriam put in.

  Grace stared at them, perplexed by their questions.

  ‘He’s an old friend,’ Dulcie said. ‘You’ve known him years. Isn’t that right, Duffield?’

  Grace nodded dumbly.

  ‘How did you know he was the one for you?’ Mary asked.

  Grace looked at her friend’s eager face. Mary Finnegan was already smiling brightly, expecting to hear some romantic love story.

  ‘I—’

  She was saved from answering when the door to the fitting room opened and Sylvia Saunders stepped out, a vision in white lace.

  ‘Well?’ She looked at them shyly from beneath her lashes. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Oh, Saunders!’

  They all joined in the chorus of admiration, telling her how beautiful she looked. Even Dulcie couldn’t help complimenting her.

  All the while, Sylvia gazed at herself in the mirror, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

  ‘Do you think Roger will like it?’ she asked, biting her lip.

  ‘He’ll love it,’ Miriam said.

  ‘He already adores you,’ Mary added. ‘This will make him adore you even more.’

  ‘I bet you can’t wait to see his face when you walk down the aisle?’ Miriam said.

  ‘No, I can’t.’ Sylvia looked back at her reflection, her face suddenly wreathed in smiles, as if she was picturing that wonderful moment. She looked so radiantly happy, Grace felt a lump rise in her throat.

  Mary Finnegan nudged her. ‘Just think,’ she whispered. ‘That will be you soon!’

  Grace looked back at Sylvia, still twirling in front of the mirror, admiring herself from all angles.

  No, it won’t, she thought. She tried to imagine herself standing in front of a mirror in a white dress, so in love and excited to be getting married she almost couldn’t wait for her wedding day to come. But every time she pictured it, all she could feel was dread settling in her stomach like a cold, hard stone.

  But it was time to change that, she thought.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  It was the day before Sylvia’s wedding, but Anna had already decided she would not go.

  The invitation had been sitting on her dressing table for weeks, and every time she looked at it Anna felt herself wavering.

  Sometimes she thought she would go. Sometimes she managed to convince herself she had not been forgotten, that Sylvia had sent the invitation because she genuinely wanted her there, and not out of politeness as Edward had said.

  And then, at other times, her confidence would wane and she knew she had sunk too low to face any of her old friends. She could not bear to see the shock on their faces when they saw the wretched creature she had become.

  But this morning, seeing the invitation propped up against the mirror, it felt as if it was mocking her. She snatched it up and ripped it into pieces, letting the fragments drift to the ground like confetti around her. How could she possibly go and celebrate someone else’s future happiness when her own was full of nothing but bleak bitterness?

  She threw back the curtains. Even the mornings felt as if they were making fun of her now. It was another beautiful June day, the sun already warming the window pane even though it had barely risen. Anna yanked the curtains closed, unable to look at a day so bright and full of promise.

  She looked back at the bed. Edward had not come home again. But instead of panic, these days she felt only relief. At least it meant a few hours’ respite from the heavy, dar
k cloud that seemed to hang over them when he was at home.

  Anna dressed quickly. Her clothes felt even looser today, her skirt hanging off her hips. She could hardly bear to look at herself in the mirror because the sight of her sharp bones protruding from under her skin repelled her so much.

  The only saving grace was that Edward showed no interest in her anymore.

  She went downstairs to light the ovens, out of habit as much as anything else. Keeping to the steady routines of the day was a comfort to her, giving her an anchor to a past when things were less fearful and uncertain.

  But as she took down Papa’s battered old tub from the shelf, ready to weigh out flour, the now familiar feeling of dread and shame rolled over her and she remembered what she had done.

  She had lost Papa’s business.

  Everything he had achieved, everything he had worked so hard for, was all gone. It belonged to Edward now. His name in bold gold letters over the door reminded her that on the rare occasions she dared to venture outside.

  It was the insult to Papa that hurt her, even more than her own wounded pride. The knowledge that Edward had never truly loved her, that their marriage had all been part of a plan to further his own ambitions, barely registered compared to knowing that her father’s legacy had been lost.

  And yet part of her could still hardly believe it was true.

  She looked around the kitchen, remembering all the times she and Edward had worked here alongside Papa. She could picture her father, painstakingly teaching Edward how to knead dough and fold cake batter and how to roll and twist pastries into all kinds of intricate shapes. She remembered how Edward would look up and catch her eye across the kitchen, and how they would smile at each other, speaking without words …

  Could he really have done that and not loved her? It seemed impossible to think that all that time the only thing in his heart was greed and ambition.

  And how would things have worked out if the war hadn’t happened? she wondered. Would he have married her and bided his time for years, just waiting for her father to retire and leave the business to them?

  The war had done him a favour, she thought. He probably hadn’t been able to believe his luck when her father was sent back to Germany, leaving the way clear for him to take over.

  And yet … She remembered Edward in his hospital bed, just after he had been sent home injured. He had been through so much, Anna still clung to the forlorn hope that he was sick, that the war had turned his mind.

  She had just put the first batch of loaves in the oven when she heard footsteps crossing the yard. Anna’s whole body stiffened, thinking it was Edward. But when the back door opened it was Nellie Madigan who stood there.

  ‘Oh. Hello.’ She looked around. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘I thought he was with you.’

  At least Nellie had the grace to blush at that. But Anna didn’t care. She turned her back on her, reaching up to fetch another baking tray. She could feel Nellie watching her.

  ‘I dunno why you bother,’ she said at last. ‘After everything he’s said and done.’

  ‘I’m doing it for my father, not for him.’

  ‘It ain’t your father’s place anymore though, is it?’ Nellie pointed out.

  Anna said nothing.

  ‘You must have been close to him?’ Nellie said at last.

  Anna paused, her hand stilling as she dusted the tray with flour. ‘He was a good man,’ she said.

  ‘My pa reckons the only good German is a dead ‘un. But then again, he ain’t much to write home about himself,’ she added, her lip curling with disdain.

  Anna ignored her and carried on with her work. But still Nellie stood in the back doorway, watching her.

  Finally, Anna looked over her shoulder and said, ‘Are you going to open the shop, or aren’t you?’

  ‘In a minute.’

  Anna looked her up and down. Nellie was still a mess, her blouse grubby and rumpled, as if she had picked it up off the floor and put it back on. But there was a wantonness about her, with her tumbling red hair, full mouth and husky voice, that Anna could imagine men found appealing.

  Edward certainly did, at any rate.

  ‘I expect he’s gambling again,’ Nellie said.

  ‘Who?’

  Nellie gave one of her earthy laughs. ‘Eddie, who d’you think?’ She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. ‘I happen to know Billy Willis had a game going last night. I daresay that’s where Eddie will be, sitting round the table with his new pals, acting like the big shot.’ She shook her head. She might have been younger than Anna, but life and experience had made her older than her years. ‘’Course, he’s in over his head with that lot. He might think they’re all pals together, but I know Billy Willis’ crew. They’re taking him for a fool. They’ll string him along until they’ve had every penny he’s got, then they’ll be done with him.’ She looked around. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Billy ended up owning this place.’

  Anna let the tray fall with a crash. ‘Over my dead body!’

  Nellie laughed. ‘Don’t speak too soon, love.’

  Anna was silent, taking it in. She could only hope Edward didn’t try to treat Billy Willis the same way he treated her.

  ‘Why don’t you leave him?’ Nellie asked, surprising her.

  Anna turned on her. ‘So you can move in, you mean?’

  Nellie laughed. ‘Oh, no, love. I wouldn’t take your place for all the tea in China. Listen, I’ve had an old man who knocked me about, and I ain’t interested in going back to that, believe me. Besides, Eddie’s worse than my Frank ever used to be. Frankie used to use his fists, but Eddie – well, his sort of cruelty don’t leave a mark, does it? Except up here.’ She tapped her temple. ‘I’ve seen what he’s done to you. He’s a nasty swine, and no mistake.’

  ‘That hasn’t stopped you wanting him, though, has it?’

  Nellie smiled knowingly. ‘We’re different, you and me. I’ve got the measure of him, and he knows it. We’re just a bit of fun for each other, that’s all. I ain’t so foolish as to fall in love with him like you did.’ She paused. ‘You ought to leave him, y’know,’ she said at last. ‘It ain’t going to get better for you, believe me. Now he’s got what he wants, Eddie ain’t got no use for you. He’ll keep on being cruel to you until he drives you out.’

  ‘Is that what he told you?’

  ‘Not in so many words, but it don’t take a genius to work it out. I reckon even you must have an idea what’s going on in his mind.’

  Of course she did, but she didn’t want to admit it. She turned away, back to her work.

  ‘I’m just worried about you,’ Nellie said.

  Anna laughed, a harsh sound that filled the kitchen. ‘You didn’t feel sorry when you were down here kissing my husband!’

  Nellie’s cheeks turned red. ‘Like I said, it was a bit of fun,’ she mumbled. ‘But believe me, I ain’t the reason your marriage is in trouble. You should never have wed him.’

  ‘You think I don’t know that?’ Anna snapped.

  ‘Then you should leave him.’

  ‘You didn’t leave your husband.’

  ‘I didn’t have to, in the end. An artillery shell at the Somme did for him before he did for me. Good riddance, too.’ Her mouth curled. ‘Pity you weren’t so lucky.’

  Anna turned on her. ‘Edward wasn’t always like – he is now,’ she protested. ‘He used to be so kind, so loving—’

  Then she saw the look of pity in Nellie’s eyes and remembered that it had all been a lie. Nellie was silent for a moment. Then she said, ‘there was a fire here, wasn’t there? You nearly died, didn’t you? You and your family.’

  Straight away Anna felt the searing heat on her skin, her eyes stinging, the thick smoke in her lungs, making it hard for her to breathe. Even now, four years later, just thinking about it was enough to take her back to that terrible night.

  ‘How do you know about that?’

  ‘Eddie told me. He knows all about
it.’

  ‘Edward was in France.’

  ‘He still knows all about it. He says the Franklin boys started it.’

  ‘The Franklin boys?’ Anna stared at her.

  Tom’s brothers.

  ‘He’s never said anything to me about it.’

  ‘Well, no. He wouldn’t, would he?’

  Anna stared at Nellie, itching to slap the smug expression off her face. She looked almost pleased with herself, as if she enjoyed knowing something Anna didn’t.

  She turned away. ‘If Edward knew the Franklin boys were behind that fire he would have gone to the police. He hates the Franklins. There’d be no reason for him to try to cover for them.’

  ‘That’s what you think.’

  Anna swung back to face her. ‘If you’ve got something to say, then you should come out with it. I’m sick and tired of your stupid games!’

  ‘Ain’t you worked it out for yourself? And you think you’re so clever.’ Nellie sent her a pitying look. ‘It was your precious Edward that put them up to it, you silly mare.’

  The floor seemed to give way beneath her feet and Anna had to clutch the edge of the kitchen table for support.

  ‘That’s not true,’ she whispered.

  ‘He told me himself.’

  Nellie was still speaking, but her words were lost in a rush of sound that filled Anna’s brain.

  Just when she didn’t think her life could unravel any further, suddenly there were yet more loose threads she knew nothing about.

  But still her mind rejected it. Not Edward. Not her Edward. He might not love her, but surely he would never wish her harm.

  ‘He hates the Franklins,’ she whispered. ‘He hasn’t spoken to them in years.’

  ‘I’ve seen him drinking with them at the Fallen Angel.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be the first time he’s lied to you, would it? I know there was a falling out when they were kids, but Eddie ain’t daft. He knows when people can be useful to him, and he don’t mind taking advantage to get what he wants. I mean, look at you.’

  Anna flinched at the casual insult, but Nellie went on, ‘Mind you, he weren’t pleased that they went too far. Silly buggers nearly burned the place down with you in it. That would have been a thing, wouldn’t it? He would have ended up with nothing.’