‘Do you need help?’
‘No, thank you, Sister. We’re quite all right, aren’t we, Harry?’ she said in a low voice.
He turned away. Kate manoeuvred herself to sit up and peered over the edge of the parapet. The ground seemed to rise dizzyingly to meet her.
‘Long way up, isn’t it?’ Harry commented.
‘It is rather.’
He sent her a sideways look. ‘I take it you’re not keen on heights?’
‘Hate them,’ Kate said.
The faintest shadow of a smile touched his mouth. ‘Then what are you doing up here?’
‘I’m trying to keep you safe.’
He looked down at her, huddled beside him. ‘I can see that.’ Then his smile vanished and his eyes took on their old, dead look. ‘Anyway, I don’t know why you’re bothering,’ he muttered. ‘I don’t deserve it. You should be back on the ward, looking after those other brave boys. The ones who were wounded fighting for their country.’
‘You were wounded too.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ He lifted his arm, wincing at the pain in his damaged shoulder. ‘See this? I did it to myself.’
Kate stared at him. ‘I don’t understand?’
‘We call them Blighty wounds, miss. Wounds that are bad enough to get you sent home.’ He put his hand to his shoulder. ‘I went a bit too far with this one. Nearly nicked an artery and did for myself.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Might have been better if I had. Then my father and mother could have mourned their hero son.’ He looked at Kate. ‘Shocked you, have I? I suppose you’re as disgusted with me as they were.’
‘It isn’t my job to judge you, Harry. All I do is treat your injuries and make you better, if I can.’
‘Then you’re the only one who isn’t sickened by me!’ Harry grimaced. ‘My father says I’m a disgrace to the family. Even my sister can’t bring herself to look at me. And to think how proud they were when I marched off to war in my new khaki uniform,’ he said bitterly. ‘That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, miss. Make my father proud.’
I know how you feel.
‘Anyway, they’re right to be ashamed of me,’ he went on. ‘When I look at some of those men on the ward … the terrible injuries they have, and the way they bear them. Some of them can’t wait to be patched up so they can go back to the Front. And then there’s me …’ He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t blame my father for hating me. I’ve let him down. He can’t hate me any more than I hate myself.’
‘Would you hate yourself if it had been a German sniper who blew a hole in your shoulder?’ Kate asked.
Harry frowned. ‘Of course not. That would have been a war wound.’
‘But don’t you see? You do have a war wound. It’s up here.’ Kate tapped her temple. ‘Just because you don’t have a missing limb or shrapnel wounds doesn’t mean to say you’re not injured.’ She edged closer to him. ‘Think about those men on the ward: the ones who wake up screaming in the night, the ones who jump at the slightest noise or can’t bear to be touched. They’re wounded too, in their own way. We carry a lot of our greatest pain inside, where no one can see it.’
Harry was silent for a moment and Kate could see him weighing up her words.
‘Please, Harry,’ she said. ‘Come back to the ward with me. I know you’re upset about your family, but there’s nothing we can’t sort out, I promise.’
‘Kate!’ A man’s voice calling from above shocked them both. Harry jerked away from her like a frightened animal.
Kate looked up. She could see Rufus French’s head appearing from the skylight window.
‘For Christ’s sake, Kate! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he yelled.
‘Go back inside,’ she called back.
‘I’m coming down—’
‘I said, go back!’ Kate swung round to face him and lost her balance. She felt herself toppling but a second later a pair of strong arms closed around her, holding her close.
‘I’ve got you, miss.’ Harry’s voice was close to her ear. It took Kate a moment to realise he had jumped up to grab her.
She clung to him, helpless with terror. ‘I could have fallen.’
‘I know, miss,’ Harry said gruffly. ‘Come on, let’s get you back to safety.’
Chapter Forty-Eight
Billy Willis ran his criminal empire from the back room of the Fallen Angel pub in Roman Road. Jimmy Clyde had often bragged about visiting his hideaway, concealed behind a secret door that Old Bill would never find even if they swarmed all over the place.
It was closing time when Sadie walked in. The pub was empty, chairs upturned on tables, sawdust swept from the floor. The landlord stood behind the bar, wiping glasses. He barely spared her a glance.
‘Sorry, girlie, we’re closed,’ he said.
Sadie walked up to the bar. ‘I don’t want a drink. I’ve come to see Billy Willis.’
He frowned at her. ‘Not sure I know that name.’
‘You should do, he runs a gambling den in your back room. I’ll go and find him by myself, shall I?’
She made a move to lift the bar flap, but the landlord blocked her way.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘I told you, I want to see Billy Willis.’
‘And I told you, there ain’t no one of that name here. Now push off.’
Sadie picked up one of the glasses from the bar and let it fall from her hands. It smashed at her feet.
The landlord stared at her. ‘I’ll call the police!’
‘Go on, then.’ Sadie grinned. ‘I expect Billy will love you bringing Old Bill to his doorstep. I might even show them where to find him … that secret door behind the barrels in the cellar, isn’t it?’
She picked up another glass. ‘Or I can just carry on breaking these until you tell Billy I’m here.’
‘I told you, there’s no one—’
She let the glass drop and snatched up another one before the landlord had a chance to react.
‘Give me that!’ He tried to grab it from her hand but Sadie held on tight.
‘Not until you tell Billy—’
‘Tell Billy what?’
The landlord froze at the sound of the voice. Sadie swung around. A red-haired woman stood in the doorway behind the bar. She was tall, statuesque, smartly dressed – and very familiar.
‘Ada?’ Sadie’s mouth fell open in astonishment.
‘Nurse Sedgewick?’ Ada’s crimson mouth curved into a smile. ‘Now what’s a nice young girl like you doing in a place like this? And at this hour, too.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Shouldn’t you be tucked up in bed in the nurses’ home by now?’
‘I beg your pardon, Mrs Dixon, I didn’t mean to disturb you,’ the landlord stammered, rescuing the glass from Sadie’s limp grasp. ‘She says she wants to see Billy Willis.’
‘My brother ain’t here.’
Sadie blinked at her, struggling to take this in. ‘Billy Willis is your brother?’
‘Dixon is my married name.’ There was no warmth in her narrowed eyes as she looked at Sadie. This Ada was nothing like the jolly, laughing woman Sadie had nursed at Christmas.
‘So what’s your business with Billy?’ she asked.
‘I want to talk to him.’
‘What about?’
Sadie lifted her chin. ‘That’s between me and him.’
‘Is it now?’ Ada folded her arms across her bosom. ‘Well, I reckon anything you want to say to my brother, you can say to me.’
Sadie pressed her lips together and said nothing.
Ada sighed. ‘Look, go home, girl. You ain’t got no business being here.’
She started to turn away but Sadie blurted out, ‘It’s about Jimmy Clyde.’
Ada paused, her back still turned. ‘Who?’
‘He works for your brother.’
‘What about him?’
‘He killed my mother Lily.’
Ada turned slowly to face her.
‘The day
he came out of prison he beat her up, broke her ribs, knocked her unconscious. The damage to her brain was so bad she never woke up.’ Sadie paused to gather herself, determined not to falter. ‘I never got to say goodbye,’ she murmured.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Ada’s voice was distant.
‘It was me he really wanted to kill. I was the one who shopped him to the police and got him locked up. My ma died trying to protect me.’ The words clogged in her throat, nearly choking her.
Ada was silent for a moment. Then she said, ‘I need a drink.’ She gestured to the landlord. ‘Two brandies, Arnold.’
‘I don’t want one,’ Sadie said, but Ada ignored her.
They sat down at one of the tables. Ada did not speak until the barman placed two glasses in front of them. Ada picked up hers and knocked the contents straight back.
‘Drink up,’ she said.
‘I told you, I don’t want it.’
‘I said, drink it!’
They stared at each other across the table. Then, reluctantly, Sadie lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip. It was fiery on her tongue, but the warmth that spread through her body was actually quite pleasant.
Ada leant back in her seat. ‘And now I s’pose you’re worried this Jimmy will come back for you?’ she said.
Sadie shook her head. ‘I ain’t worried about myself.’
‘Then what do you want?’
‘I want revenge.’
This seemed to amuse Ada. ‘What kind of revenge?’
‘I want him to hang for what he did to my mother.’
Sadie gulped down the rest of her drink. Ada looked at the empty glass on the table, her brows rising. ‘So why are you coming here? Why not go to the Old Bill?’
‘They won’t do anything.’ Sadie wiped her mouth with her sleeve. ‘They say they can’t find him. And even if they did, I know they wouldn’t do anything. Most of ’em are in your brother’s pay anyway.’
Ada looked away, but not before Sadie saw her smile.
When she turned back, her expression was bland. ‘As it happens, I’ve heard of this Jimmy Clyde. But I haven’t seen him around for a while.’
‘That’s because your brother’s hiding him.’
‘That’s Billy’s business, not mine,’ Ada said shortly. ‘I don’t interfere. And neither should you,’ she warned.
‘I’m not afraid of your brother.’
‘That’s because you don’t know him.’ Ada rose to her feet. ‘Look, I’ll ask about, see if anyone’s heard from Jimmy. But I wouldn’t hold out too much hope.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Sadie said. ‘I’ll find him myself.’
‘And how will you do that?’
‘I don’t know. But I ain’t going to give up.’
Ada sent her a long, considering look. ‘You’re a nice girl,’ she said. ‘I like you, which is why I’m giving you this advice.’ She leant closer. ‘Forget about getting revenge on Jimmy Clyde. You’re in an ugly world, and you ain’t got no business being here. Just forget about it all, and get on with your own life. I bet that’s what your mother would have wanted.’
She was ready to go.
‘You’re right,’ Sadie said, as Ada walked away. ‘Ma would have wanted me to forget about it. She would have wanted me to stay safe, to protect myself. She wouldn’t have thought her life worth anyone taking trouble over.’ Ada did not turn around but Sadie knew she was listening. ‘And perhaps it wasn’t,’ she went on. ‘I mean, who was she anyway? Just some old brass. She wasn’t even much of a mother most of the time. But her life was worth something to me. To me, she was everything.’
Sadie watched Ada, hoping that her words had sunk in. But the woman did not react.
The girl got to her feet. ‘I’ll go,’ she mumbled. ‘Thank you for your time.’
She was past Ada and halfway to the door before heard, ‘I’ll have a word with Billy.’
Sadie swung round. ‘You do know where Jimmy is, then?’
‘I’m not saying that. But if he does show his face—’
‘You’ll tell the police?’
‘We’ll deal with him,’ Ada said firmly. She looked at Sadie. ‘You have my word on that,’ she said.
Chapter Forty-nine
Kate sat in the passageway outside the office where the disciplinary committee was meeting. Doctors and nurses bustled past, but Kate ignored their curious looks. Instead she kept her gaze fixed on the noticeboard opposite, where a notice for the Students’ Union Midsummer Ball was pinned up alongside a list of that week’s post-mortem demonstrations.
Once upon a time Kate would have been there, in the demonstration room, assisting Dr Werner. It all seemed like such a long time ago now.
It was a warm morning and Kate could feel perspiration trickling down inside the stiff collar of her blouse. She had dressed carefully that morning, trying to draw attention away from her face, still pale and haggard from lack of sleep.
Two students sat further along the passageway, whispering together. One of them, a lanky first year, was wringing his bony hands together while his friend did his best to reassure him.
‘It was only a drunken escapade,’ Kate heard him saying. ‘I’m sure they won’t throw the book at you for that.’
The door opened and Kate straightened up as a middle-aged woman appeared, carrying a piece of paper.
‘Mr Burrell?’ She looked at the first year. ‘The committee will see you now.’
Kate watched as he was ushered in. A moment later his friend sauntered off. Kate turned back to the noticeboard and wiped her damp palms on her skirt. Today’s PM was another demonstration of the effects of gas gangrene, she noticed.
‘Miss Carlyle?’
She turned round to see Rufus French hurrying down the passageway towards her. Kate smiled at him without thinking, relieved to see a friendly face.
‘Thank God,’ he said. ‘I thought I might have missed you.’
‘Missed saying goodbye to me, you mean?’ Kate said.
Rufus ignored her remark as he consulted his watch. ‘I thought you were due in at ten?’
‘They’re making me wait. Apparently stolen test tubes and drunken high jinks and not turning up to lectures are more important than the accidental death of a patient.’
Rufus winced. He was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘How are you? After last night?’
‘Tired,’ Kate said. ‘But none the worse for my rooftop ordeal. How is Harry – Private Copeland?’
‘Sleeping, at last. It took a lot to knock him out, I can tell you.’
‘I’m not surprised, poor soul,’ Kate said. ‘He was in an awful state.’
‘I wonder what made him do it?’ Rufus said, then shook his head. ‘What am I saying … It’s this wretched war, isn’t it? We can mend their bodies but not their minds.’
Kate thought about Harry’s confession, but said nothing. ‘What will happen to him now?’ she asked.
‘He’s being taken to a convalescent home this afternoon.’
‘Will they send him back to France, do you think?’
‘I don’t know.’ Rufus frowned at her. ‘Look here, why are you worrying about him? It’s yourself you should be thinking about.’
Kate smiled. ‘My problems seem very trivial compared to his.’
Rufus was silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘Look here, do you want me to speak for you?’
The question took her by surprise. ‘Speak for me?’
‘Give you a character reference. You never know, it might help.’
Kate frowned at him. ‘Why would you do that?’
‘Because I think you’re an excellent doctor.’
Kate stared at him, at a loss for words. ‘You’d speak up – for me?’
‘Of course.’
Their eyes met for a moment, then Kate shook her head. ‘I couldn’t ask you to do that.’
‘You’re not asking. I’m offering.’ But then he said, ‘Although I don’t suppose you’ll really need
my help, will you? You’re a Carlyle, after all.’
Before Kate had a chance to reply to this, the door opened and the first-year student stumbled out, looking dazed but happy.
The woman turned to her. ‘Miss Carlyle?’
Kate rose to her feet. ‘Well, here goes.’ She turned to Rufus. ‘Wish me luck,’ she said.
‘You won’t need it,’ he said.
Kate smiled weakly. That’s what you think.
There were four doctors on the disciplinary committee. Kate was surprised to see her father was one of them. He sat behind the long table with Dr Bailey, a surgeon, Dr Dennys and Sir Patrick Jefferson, who were both orthopaedic consultants. With his broad, leonine head and his impressive height, her father seemed to tower over his colleagues.
Sir Patrick ventured to speak up. ‘Sir Philip, I wonder, since this case is of a personal nature, if you would care to abstain? I’m sure we—’ Kate’s father cut him off.
‘No need,’ he said brusquely. ‘I can deal with this matter impartially.’
I doubt it. Kate stared at him across the table. The other doctors looked uncomfortable, but none of them dared to argue with Sir Philip Carlyle.
‘Very well.’ Sir Patrick consulted the notes in front of him. ‘Then we’ll begin …’
Kate remained silent as he read out the charge against her. She kept her eyes fixed on her father, but he refused to meet her gaze.
Sir Patrick Jefferson finished speaking and sat back. ‘Now we have heard the charge against you, Miss Carlyle, perhaps you would like to say something in your defence?’
Kate glanced at her father, and saw the imperceptible shake of his head.
How ironic, she thought bitterly, that this was her one chance to finally make him proud, to earn the respect she had always wanted him to feel for her.
‘I would like to say something,’ another voice declared.
At first she thought Rufus French had come in to speak for her after all, but when Kate turned she was surprised to see someone else standing in the doorway.
‘Leo?’
‘Hello, Sis,’ he said quietly. He looked even more wretched than she felt, his dark hair tousled, deep shadows under his eyes.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ their father interjected. ‘You can’t come barging in here! We are in the middle of a disciplinary hearing.’
A Nightingale Christmas Promise Page 35