Nightingale Wedding Bells

by Donna Douglas

  Nellie was right; the bakery wasn’t her father. All this time, Anna had been clinging on to it, thinking she was holding on to him, too. But she didn’t have to fight for it any longer. Friedrich Beck’s spirit was alive and well and flourishing in Germany.

  And he would want her to be happy. He hadn’t opened up the bakery to fulfil any greedy ambition. He had opened it to provide a home and a life for his family. Because that was what was really important to him.

  Nellie was right about that, too. Friedrich would never have wanted her to spend the rest of her life living in misery, just for the sake of a shop in a back street of Bethnal Green.

  She could almost imagine him now, smiling at the very idea.

  Her only sadness was in letting go of her dream to have the kind of life her parents had had. She had tried so hard to make it work, blaming herself when she failed.

  ‘I wish you luck,’ she said, and was surprised to realise she meant it. ‘I hope it makes you happy. But I don’t think it will. I don’t think you’ll ever truly be happy, Edward. Because you’ll always know in your heart of hearts that this place isn’t really yours. You can paint your name over the door as big as you like, but everyone will still know you didn’t build it up, you didn’t work for it. You stole it. And I’ll tell you something else, too,’ she added. ‘No matter how much you have, it will never be enough. Because in your heart you’ll always be the kid from the workhouse who never feels good enough.’

  He flinched, but didn’t say a word. Anna knew she had wounded him as surely as if she had taken a knife and stabbed him to the heart.

  ‘I made a mistake,’ she said. ‘Not just marrying you, but thinking you could ever be like my father. You’re not, and you never will be. My father is a wonderful man, honest, kind and gentle. Everyone loves him. But you?’ She looked him up and down. ‘You’re not fit to lick his boots, Edward Stanning!’

  She picked up her case. Edward stood stock-still as she moved past him. But as she reached the door, he suddenly found his voice.

  ‘You’ll be sorry,’ he called after her.

  Anna turned to look at him.

  ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘You’ll be the one who’s sorry, not me.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  ‘What do you mean, you don’t want to marry him? It’s all arranged.’

  Grace’s mother confronted her across the kitchen, barely paying any attention to the infant screeching in the crook of her arm. This was Grace’s youngest sibling, a boy called Reuben.

  Grace tugged at the collar of her dress. It was a warm June day outside and the back door was open, but the sticky heat of the kitchen was still making her feel faint.

  This wasn’t going as well as she had hoped. The elegant speech she had rehearsed on the train down to Devon had stuck in her throat, until all that emerged was a confused jumble of words that even she scarcely understood.

  ‘We haven’t set a date,’ she pointed out quietly.

  ‘That doesn’t matter,’ her father dismissed. ‘You’ve promised to marry Noah Wells, and that’s that. We Duffields never break our word.’

  ‘We’re talking about my marriage, Pa, not trading a pig!’ Grace protested.

  ‘Sounds the same to me!’ her sister-in-law Jessie said, and both she and Eliza sniggered.

  ‘It’s just nerves, that’s all,’ her mother said to her husband. ‘All brides get them, it’s nothing to worry about. She’ll come to her senses and do the right thing in the end.’

  Grace turned on her. ‘That’s just it, don’t you see? I’m tired of coming to my senses all the time. Good old Grace, always doing the right thing. But not this time. I don’t want to be the sensible one anymore. I don’t want to wear practical shoes, or clothes that don’t show the dirt. And I don’t want practical hair, either! I want dainty dancing shoes, and – and curls!’

  She finished her outburst to see a ring of astonished faces staring back at her.

  ‘Have you gone quite mad, Gracie?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Dainty dancing shoes!’ Eliza spluttered with laughter. ‘There’s nothing dainty about those great big feet of yours!’

  ‘I know what’s wrong with her.’ Jessie sent her a sly look. ‘She’s in love.’

  ‘I am not!’ Grace felt the heat rising in her face.

  ‘I knew it!’ Jessie crowed. ‘Look how she’s blushing. She reckons she’s going to get a better offer.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ her mother said, ‘Grace knows very well that will never happen.’

  ‘Why not?’ Grace turned on her mother. ‘Is it really such a silly idea that someone might fall in love with me?’

  ‘Especially with her curls and her dainty dancing shoes!’ Eliza chimed in, still laughing.

  Grace ignored her. ‘I mean it,’ she said to her mother. ‘Why shouldn’t I be like all the other girls? Why shouldn’t I be like Sylvia Saunders?’

  ‘And who’s Sylvia Saunders when she’s at home?’ her mother wanted to know.

  ‘One of her London friends, I daresay,’ her father said. ‘Led her astray, no doubt, and made her forget her duty to her family.’

  ‘Why should I be the only one with a duty to the family?’ Grace asked him. ‘Matthew and Mark were allowed to marry whoever they liked. Why do I have to marry a dull old man I hardly know, just because—’

  She caught the appalled looks on the faces of her sisters-in-law and turned around slowly. Noah Wells stood in the doorway.

  Only the sound of little Reuben howling in his mother’s arms broke the silence. Grace closed her eyes and wished the stone flags would open up and swallow her.

  At last Noah spoke. ‘Your father told me you were visiting. I thought I’d come over and say hello,’ he said gruffly, not meeting her eye.

  Grace was utterly mortified. Poor Noah. She didn’t want to marry him, but she didn’t want to hurt him, either.

  ‘The girl didn’t mean it, Noah,’ her father stepped in to smooth things over, but Noah cut him short.

  ‘I reckon that’s between me and Grace, don’t you?’ He glanced at her. ‘Shall we go outside and talk where it’s quiet?’

  He turned on his heel and went outside. Grace hesitated.

  ‘Well? What are you waiting for?’ her father said. ‘You go out there and talk to him. See if you can put things right before it’s too late.’

  Noah was waiting for her in the middle of the sunlit farmyard, tamping down the tobacco in his pipe.

  Grace took a deep breath. ‘Mr Wells—Noah, I—’ she started to say, but Noah shook his head and nodded towards the farmhouse behind her. Grace followed his gaze and saw her sisters-in-law both crowded at the window, watching them avidly.

  Noah took Grace’s arm and steered her across the yard and round the side of the milking sheds, into the cool shadows.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘Reckon we can do without an audience, don’t you?’

  Grace watched him lighting his pipe and waited for him to speak. She was afraid to say anything herself; she had already put her foot in it more than enough.

  ‘So,’ Noah said finally. ‘You don’t want to marry me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, truly I am.’ Grace opened her mouth and the words tumbled out again. ‘I know I should have said something sooner … I didn’t mean to hurt you … It all happened so fast …’

  ‘So you need more time, is that it? Because I don’t mind waiting.’

  He was being so kind, Grace felt utterly helpless.

  But then he gave a sad little smile and said, ‘But I can see from the look on your fact that won’t do, will it?’

  ‘No,’ Grace said unhappily. ‘No, it won’t.’

  He paused for a while, puffing on his pipe and gazing into the far distance.

  ‘I can’t say I blame you,’ he said finally. ‘After living in London these past years, the idea of coming back here to live must seem very unappealing to you.’

  ‘No, it’s not that.’

  He smiled wryly.
‘So it’s me that’s unappealing, then?’

  Grace felt herself blushing. ‘I’m sorry,’ she started to say, but Noah shook his head.

  ‘I was only teasing you, girl. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’ve been half expecting you to change your mind, if I’m honest. I mean, what would a young girl like you want with a dull old man like me?’

  Grace felt her blush deepening. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. It was very cruel.’

  ‘Why? You’re quite right. I thought the same thing myself when your father first mentioned the idea to me. But I was so lonely after my wife died, I was willing to give it a try.’

  He looked so forlorn, Grace’s heart went out to him. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Will you stop saying that? You’re a young girl, you’re entitled to go off and get giddy over a fellow. Just like your friend – what’s her name?’

  ‘Sylvia Saunders,’ Grace said miserably.

  He laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t look so sad, Gracie. I’ve got no hard feelings against you. I wish you well.’

  He tapped out his pipe on the side of the milking shed. ‘Well, I don’t suppose we’ve much more to say to each other, have we?’

  ‘No,’ Grace said.

  He jerked his head towards the farmhouse. ‘I daresay you’ll be wanting to go back inside, to your family?’

  ‘Actually, would you mind giving me a lift to the station? If I hurry I might catch the last train back to London.’

  He frowned. ‘But you’ve only just arrived. Aren’t you staying for a visit?’

  Grace looked back at the house. ‘I was going to travel tomorrow morning, but I’d rather go tonight. I don’t think I’m going to be very welcome after this,’ she said.

  Noah regarded her with sympathy. ‘I could talk to them if you like, explain what’s happened? I’m sure I could make peace with them for you.’

  ‘Would you do that?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Grace looked back at the farmhouse, then shook her head. ‘No, I’d like to go back tonight. If I wait until tomorrow there’s a chance I’ll miss my friend’s wedding.’

  Noah smiled. ‘That wouldn’t be Sylvia, would it?’ Grace nodded. ‘You can’t miss that, can you?’

  Grace had a sudden vision of Dr Logan coming in to the wedding with Dulcie Moore on his arm.

  ‘I suppose not,’ she said.

  Ten minutes later, Grace was sitting up on top of Noah’s cart beside him, lurching along the country lanes. Her parents had been happy enough to wave them off. Grace wondered if they were hoping that Noah might use the time to change her mind.

  ‘So you were planning on going home in the morning?’ he said. ‘It’s a long way to come for a flying visit.’ He sent her a sideways look. ‘You could have written me a letter?’

  Grace shook her head. ‘That would have been a horrible thing to do. You deserved to hear from me in person. And I wanted to give you this back.’

  She delved into her bag and pulled out the box containing the engagement ring he had given her.

  Noah flinched at the sight of it. ‘Keep it,’ he said gruffly.

  ‘No, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.’ Grace dropped it into his pocket. ‘You must save it for when the right woman comes along.’

  ‘If she comes along.’

  ‘Oh, she will. I’m sure of it.’

  Noah sent her a sidelong look. ‘You’re a good girl, Gracie.’

  Grace folded her arms around herself and stared out over the fields. She didn’t feel like a good person. If this was what breaking someone’s heart felt like, she never wanted to do it again. She couldn’t understand why the other girls bragged about it so much, as if it was something to be proud about.

  Not that Noah Wells seemed too heartbroken. He whistled a little tune between his teeth as he jingled the reins.

  ‘So have you got your sights set on someone else?’ he asked.

  Grace thought of Dr Logan again. She was too late there, she decided. By tomorrow he would well and truly belong to Dulcie.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not anymore.’

  At the station, Noah came round to help her down from the cart. ‘Well, take care of yourself,’ he said.

  ‘You too.’

  On impulse, Grace reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek. Noah touched the spot, rubbing his hand over his bristled jaw.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘For being so kind.’ She looked up at him. ‘You’re a good man, Mr Wells. I hope you find someone who deserves you.’

  He smiled, a warm, rare smile. ‘You too, Gracie,’ he said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Having hurried back from Devon the previous evening so as not to miss Sylvia’s wedding, Grace woke up the following morning to the news that Celia Padgett, the nurse who had been brought in to cover on Wilson ward, had been struck down by a summer cold. No other nurses could be spared, so Miss Parker had insisted that either Grace or Dulcie had to cancel their day off.

  Naturally, Dulcie wasn’t having any of it.

  ‘You can’t ask me to do it, Duffield,’ she had wailed in their room that morning. ‘You know how important today is for me. Besides, I’m a bridesmaid,’ she added as an afterthought. ‘Go on, please. No one would miss you.’

  For a moment, Grace was sorely tempted to refuse. But then she realised Dulcie had a point. Poor Sylvia could hardly walk down the aisle without one of her bridesmaids. And at least this way Grace would be spared the misery of watching Dulcie work her magic on Dr Logan.

  ‘All right, I’ll do it,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll go and tell Miss Parker before breakfast.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ve already told her you’d do it.’ Dulcie had turned away to inspect her bridesmaid’s dress hanging on the wardrobe door. ‘I do wish she’d chosen a different colour,’ she complained. ‘Eau de nil always makes me look so washed out …’

  As soon as Grace went on duty she went to check on Albie Sallis. He had been tired and listless since his friend Gordon had left. Grace missed his jokes and his cheery laughter ringing down the ward.

  As usual, the first thing Albie did was to ask her if she had heard anything of his friend.

  Grace shook her head regretfully. ‘I’m sorry, Corporal Sallis. No one’s told me anything.’

  ‘I hope he’s all right.’ Albie Sallis’ brow was furrowed with concern. ‘I haven’t had a letter from him yet.’

  ‘It’s only been a couple of days. I expect he’s still settling in.’

  ‘I expect you’re right, Nurse.’ But Albie did not look reassured. ‘I worry about him, y’see. He’s a shy lad, needs someone to bring him out of his shell. And I worry how he’ll manage with his exercises if I ain’t there to nag him. You know he has to practise his walking every day …’

  ‘Rest assured, Corporal, your friend is doing very well.’

  Grace swung round to see Dr Logan standing behind them. She glanced at the clock. It was only just turned seven. It was very unusual to see a doctor on the ward so early. But then she remembered the night sister had summoned him to attend to a new patient who wouldn’t settle.

  Albie Sallis sat up, propping himself against his pillows. ‘You’ve heard from him?’

  ‘I knew you were concerned, so I telephoned the convalescent home. They say Private Gordon has settled in very well. His condition is improving, and he has started to make friends.’

  The doctor didn’t glance Grace’s way at all as he spoke. It was as if she was invisible.

  Albie looked back at him intently. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I spoke to the medical officer myself.’

  ‘And he’s doing his exercises?’

  ‘At least twice a day, so I understand.’

  Albie’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘That’s all right, then.’

  Dr Logan drifted off, and Grace set about making Albie comfortable.

  ‘That’s good news, isn’t it?’ she said as she straightened
his bedclothes. ‘I daresay you’ll get a letter from him soon.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind about that,’ Albie dismissed with a wave of his hand. ‘I told you, I ain’t really one for letters. So long as I know he’s all right, that’s all that matters.’

  Grace finished tucking in his bedclothes and looked down at him. Albie’s face was haggard and grey against the snowy pillows. Worry had obviously taken its toll on him.

  ‘Try to get some rest,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, I will. I daresay I’ll be able to get some proper kip now.’

  ‘Perhaps we could have a game of whist later, if you feel up to it?’

  He smiled. ‘I’ll only beat you.’

  ‘You never know, I might surprise you.’

  Grace turned away to see Dr Logan still lingering nearby. He was studying the chart of a sleeping patient.

  Grace straightened her shoulders and went to pass him. As she drew level, he suddenly said, ‘I’m surprised to see you here this morning.’

  ‘Nurse Padgett has a cold.’

  He sent her a sharp look. ‘So you aren’t going to the wedding?’

  ‘It doesn’t seem like it. Although Miss Parker has already told me she’ll try to arrange my off-duty hours for the middle of the day, so I might be able to get to the ceremony. At least I’ll see them married.’

  ‘But you won’t come to the reception?’

  Grace had a sudden vision of Dulcie, whirling around the dance floor in his arms.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘That’s a pity.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind, really. I’m not a very good dancer. Two left feet!’ She smiled ruefully.

  For a moment they stared at each other. Grace opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

  ‘What?’ Dr Logan said.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You were going to say something. What was it?’ His eyes were suddenly very bright and intent behind his spectacles.