A Nightingale Christmas Promise

by Donna Douglas

  ‘Yes, I know, Father,’ Leo said calmly. ‘And I’m the one who should be facing it.’

  The doctors all looked at each other, except for her father who was staring at his son with a look of pure thunder on his face.

  ‘Leo, you don’t have to do this,’ Kate murmured.

  ‘Yes, I do. For God’s sake, let me do one thing right.’

  ‘Could you explain what you mean, Dr Carlyle?’ Dr Dennys asked him.

  ‘I mean, Dr Dennys, that I am the one who made the mistake that caused Corporal Rayner’s death.’

  Kate could hardly look at her father as Leo stumbled through his explanation.

  ‘So you’re saying you gave the patient the medication before you saw Miss Carlyle’s notes?’ Dr Bailey said.

  ‘Yes, Doctor.’

  ‘And you then destroyed them to cover your own mistake?’

  ‘This is absurd!’ Sir Philip, who had been sitting in simmering silence, now exploded to his feet. ‘Gentlemen, it’s perfectly clear to me what is going on here. My son is acting out of some misguided loyalty, lying to protect his sister—’

  As her father was speaking, Kate saw Leo take a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. He smoothed it out carefully and laid it on the table in front of the panel.

  Kate recognised the writing on it immediately. ‘My notes!’

  ‘I was going to destroy them, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Guilty conscience, I suppose,’ Leo said.

  The doctors mulled over Kate’s notes, comparing them to Leo’s. In the midst of it all, Sir Philip sat as still and upright as a statue, a fixed look on his face.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ she whispered to Leo.

  ‘I wanted to come forward before, but I was too afraid.’ Leo flicked a glance at their father, then looked away. ‘But then I heard what happened last night. That man up on the roof. The whole hospital is talking about what you did, Kate. And that made me realise that you’re the one who deserves to be here, not me.’

  ‘But you’re a good doctor,’ Kate protested.

  ‘Perhaps. But I’ll never be as good as you.’ Leo’s mouth twisted. ‘I’ve always known that. That was why I didn’t want you to come here, because I knew that sooner or later you’d show me up for the poor specimen I am.’ He glanced at their father again. This time he did not look away. ‘But it seems neither of us will ever be good enough for him, will we?’ he murmured.

  The other doctors finished reviewing the notes and sat back.

  ‘In the light of this new evidence, we will have to consider the case further,’ Sir Patrick declared. ‘We will reconvene at a future date. You may go.’

  He waved his hand to dismiss them, but Leo stood his ground. ‘What about Kate?’ he asked. ‘Can she go back on the ward?’

  The doctors looked at each other. ‘I see no reason why not,’ Dr Dennys said. ‘What say you, Sir Philip?’

  Kate looked at her father. His face was dark with suppressed rage.

  ‘I have nothing at all to say on the matter,’ he bit out.

  Chapter Fifty

  There was a game of cricket going on at the internment camp, inmates against the camp guards.

  Anna and her father sat side by side on a grassy bank to watch it.

  ‘It is such a British sport, I do not think the guards expected the Germans to be quite so good at it,’ Friedrich Beck laughed. ‘I think now they are rather sorry they challenged us!’

  Anna shaded her eyes to look at him. It was a long time since she had seen him so content.

  ‘It’s good to see you so happy, Papa,’ she said.

  ‘I have learnt to be happy, Liebling.’ Friedrich helped himself to another of the home-made biscuits Anna had brought with her. After six months, the guards no longer bothered to search them for contraband, and they were allowed to bring in whatever gifts they wished. ‘Of course, I would be happier still if I was at home with you and your mother and sister. But we must all make the best of what we have, nein?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Anna plucked disconsolately at a tuft of grass.

  The umpire held up his hand and the crowd cheered.

  ‘Look, another six runs!’ Her father grinned. ‘They are quite beating them at their own game, I think.’

  He turned to her and his expression grew thoughtful.

  ‘Listen to me, going on about a game of cricket when I should be paying attention to my beautiful daughter.’ He reached out and stroked her hair. ‘I am longing to know your news. How is your mother? She is well, yes?’

  ‘Yes, Papa.’

  ‘And Liesel?’

  Anna pulled a face. ‘Still complaining about everything, as usual.’

  Friedrich smiled. ‘I am glad to hear some things have not changed!’

  ‘I think she misses the servants she had at Grandmother’s house.’ Anna snapped her mouth closed.

  ‘Ah, yes.’ Her father’s mouth twisted. ‘I can imagine your sister would have enjoyed that very much.’ He paused, his gaze drifting back towards the match. ‘Has your mother heard from your grandmother at all?’

  ‘No, Papa.’

  He shook his head sadly. ‘It is a pity that things ended for them so badly. I know your mother cares a great deal for her. How I wish things could have been settled between them, then perhaps we could have welcomed Hester into our family.’

  ‘I’m glad she’s not part of our family!’ Anna snapped. ‘She’s a horrible, selfish woman.’

  ‘Anna!’ Her father’s brows rose. ‘You must not speak of your grandmother like that.’

  ‘But you don’t know what she was like, Papa. She—’

  ‘I will not hear anything against her.’ He held up his hand to silence his daughter. ‘Whatever you think of her, she took you in when you needed help. She must have a kind heart to do that.’

  Anna pressed her lips together to stop the words of protest from spilling out. Hester had never had a good word to say about Friedrich Beck, had done her best to take his family away from him. He must have known that, and yet still he found it in his heart to forgive her.

  But Anna couldn’t. Hatred for her grandmother lay like bitter gall inside her heart.

  Her father must have seen the resentment in her expression because he changed the subject. ‘Anyway, at least you are home now. How are you settling in at the bakery? Things are going well, yes?’

  ‘Yes, Papa.’

  ‘It must be good to be home again, after everything that has happened. I am so grateful to Tom for helping you. You must give him my thanks when you see him.’

  Anna plucked at the grass and said nothing.

  ‘He is a fine young man,’ Friedrich went on. ‘I am pleased I put my trust in him. He has paid us back handsomely, I think.’

  ‘Yes, Papa.’ Anna put her head down so her father could not see her face.

  She had not seen Tom for over a month – not since the night she’d sent him packing – but Anna still couldn’t banish him from her mind.

  As time had passed, she’d started to feel guilty about the way she had reacted. She remembered how hard he had worked, rebuilding their home. And what had he done that was so wrong? He had only spoken his mind, after all. Just because she didn’t agree with what he had said, that was no reason to turn her back on him.

  ‘Anna?’ She looked up to see her father watching her curiously.

  ‘Sorry, Papa. I was miles away.’

  ‘I could tell. Is there something on your mind, Liebling?’

  ‘No, Papa.’

  He brushed aside a lock of her hair so he could see her face. ‘There is something, I can tell. What is it, child? Tell your papa.’

  Anna looked up at him. ‘How do you do it?’ she asked.

  He frowned. ‘Do what, Liebling?’

  ‘How do you forgive all these people?’

  She looked around. ‘They keep you locked up when you’ve done nothing wrong, and yet you laugh and joke with them as if they’re your friends.’ />
  ‘They are my friends,’ Friedrich said. ‘It is not their fault this has happened to me. They are following the orders they have been given. And we are fortunate that they are kind to us. We are all just trying to make the best of the situation together.’

  Anna glared across the cricket pitch. One of the guards had just bowled a German player out, and the spectators were applauding politely.

  ‘Well, I can’t forgive them,’ she said. ‘I can’t forgive any of them. Not Grandmother, or the neighbours, or—’ Or Tom, she was about to say, but stopped herself.

  Her father smiled. ‘What have the neighbours done to offend you? Your mother tells me they have been very helpful since you moved back to the bakery.’

  ‘Oh, they have.’ Anna’s mouth curled. ‘They’re forever dropping in with bits and pieces for us. Mrs Wheeler brings us food, and Mr Hudson gives us wood and coal for the fire, and the Clancys from the hardware shop brought us a brand new kettle and some crockery.’

  ‘Well, then.’

  ‘But that’s not the point, is it?’ Anna turned on him angrily. ‘Where were they when we really needed them? They looked the other way when the shop was smashed up, didn’t they?’

  ‘Perhaps they were afraid?’

  ‘They were afraid? What about us? We were the ones who lived with all the threats and insults. I didn’t see them offering us help then. They turned their backs on us, stopped buying our bread, put signs up in their shops boasting about being English. And now they’ve decided they want to help us,’ she said bitterly. ‘It’s all very well for them to turn up on our doorstep with presents now, but where were they when we were nearly murdered?’

  Her father was silent for a long time. ‘So what are we supposed to do?’ he said finally.

  ‘I don’t know!’ Anna dug her fingers into the soft, bare patch of earth where she had plucked out all the grass. ‘But it seems impossible for me to forgive them, that’s all.’ She looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry, Papa, but I can’t pretend none of this happened. They should be made to pay for what they did to us.’

  Her father raised his eyebrows. ‘Revenge, you mean?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  Friedrich shook his head. ‘Oh, Anna, what has happened to you? I am surprised my little Liebling would even think such a thing.’

  ‘Perhaps I’m not your little Liebling anymore,’ she said quietly.

  Her father was right, the last six months had changed her. She had suffered humiliations and endured hardships she’d never imagined she would have to face. Everything she loved and cared about had been taken away from her; everything she believed in had been destroyed. She had been bruised, betrayed and battered, and had had to develop a hard shell to cope with it all.

  Sometimes she hated herself for growing so tough and bitter, and longed once more to be the trusting little girl who kneaded bread dough and iced cakes in her father’s bakery.

  But that girl was long gone, never to return.

  She flinched as her father stroked her hair.

  ‘You are furious with the world,’ he said softly. ‘So am I, at times. When I think about what I have lost, what has been taken away from me …’ His face filled with sorrow. ‘I miss you all so much,’ he said. ‘I miss my friends, and my work, and the customers, and being able to walk in Victoria Park on a fine summer’s day like today.’ He turned his face up to the sun, basking in its warmth. ‘But I cannot allow bitterness to get the better of me. I need to forgive, to make the best of what I have. For my own sake, not others’.’ He looked back at her. ‘In the end, being furious with the world only causes me more pain.’ He put his hand to his chest. ‘That is why I choose to forgive them, Anna, to see the best in people. I do it for myself.’

  Anna looked at him, his angular features and dark eyes so full of kindness. Impulsively, she reached over and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely.

  He laughed. ‘What was that for?’

  ‘I love you, Papa.’

  ‘I love you too, Liebling.’ He took her hand and kissed it. ‘Now, let us finish watching this cricket match. Some of us have bet the guards a barrel of beer that we will beat them!’

  Anna never would have ventured into the Hatcheries if she hadn’t been so keen to see Tom again.

  She knew the slums of Bethnal Green were bad, but nothing could have prepared her for the cramped, stinking warren of alleyways and cobbled yards hemmed in by crumbling tenement buildings.

  Anna ducked beneath a sagging line of greying washing and tried not to stare at the thin, hostile-looking women who watched her from the open doorways as dozens of filthy children tugged their skirts. The stench of the open privies made her eyes water.

  It took Anna a long time to find the Franklins’ house. As she let herself into the yard, a scrawny dog went into a frenzy of barking, straining on the end of the rope that tethered it to the back door.

  ‘Shut up, you noisy beggar!’ A man’s voice shouted from inside the house. Anna took a few cautious steps forward and the dog lunged at her, baring its teeth, its eyes blazing.

  ‘I said shut—’ A middle-aged man emerged from the open doorway, scratching his belly through his dirty vest. From across the yard, Anna caught the acrid smell of his stale sweat.

  His eyes narrowed when he saw Anna. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m looking for Tom Franklin.’

  He smiled nastily. ‘What’s the little sod done now?’

  Anna straightened her shoulders. ‘I was told he lived here.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Does he live here, or doesn’t he?’

  ‘Depends who’s asking.’ He leered at her, exposing a few brown stumps where his teeth should have been.

  ‘I’m Anna Beck. My father runs the bakery—’

  ‘The German?’ The man spat on the cobbles in disgust.

  Anna fought to keep her temper. ‘Is Tom here, or isn’t he?’

  ‘What’s it worth to you?’

  She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You want something from me, so I want something from you.’

  ‘You want money?’

  ‘Unless you’re offering something else?’ He stepped closer, reaching out for her. She jerked away from his fat, dirty fingers.

  The man’s smile vanished. ‘What’s the matter with you? You’d be lucky anyone would want to touch you, bloody German bitch!’

  ‘What’s going on?’ A woman appeared from the house, stout and belligerent-looking, with dyed yellow hair and thick black brows. ‘Who’s this?’ she demanded.

  The man looked cowed, and even the dog fell silent.

  ‘She’s looking for our Tom,’ the man mumbled.

  ‘Oh, him.’ The woman’s expression became even more sullen. She came across the yard and tucked her arm through the man’s possessively. She wore no ring, Anna noticed. ‘You’ve just missed him,’ she said.

  ‘What time will he be back?’

  The woman’s mouth curled, revealing the same brown stumps as the man. ‘Depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On how quick he is at dodging them German bullets!’ The man said, and the pair both roared with laughter.

  Anna stared from one to the other. ‘You mean he’s been called up?’

  ‘Blimey, she’s quick, ain’t she?’ the man said. ‘That’s right, girlie. The army finally got desperate enough to take him, punctured lung an’ all. And good bloody riddance to him, sulky little runt!’

  Anna ignored her. ‘When did he leave?’ she asked the woman.

  ‘I dunno, do I? Not long.’ The woman screwed up her face in thought. ‘About half an hour, I reckon. What d’you say, Bert?’

  ‘Don’t ask me. I ain’t known what time it is since my watch went to the pop shop!’

  They both roared with laughter again. They were still laughing as Anna hurried away.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Bethnal Green had never seen a funeral like it.

&nbs
p; Sadie was determined to give her mother the best send-off she could afford. There were flowers, a string of professional mourners in tall hats, and a carriage drawn by two black horses, their feathered plumes nodding as they plodded along.

  Sadie walked behind the procession. She could see people stopping on the street to watch, doffing their hats and bowing their heads.

  ‘Look at them,’ Belle whispered beside her. ‘They think it’s a toff’s funeral. I wonder what they’d say if they knew they were tipping their hats to a dock dolly?’

  ‘And so they should,’ Sadie said. ‘It’s about time Ma had the respect she deserved.’

  Belle sent her a sidelong look. ‘You’ve done her proud, mate,’ she whispered. ‘And that new blue dress you got her was beautiful. Just what she would have wanted.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  Lily Sedgewick might not have worn sky blue on her wedding day, but Sadie had made sure she would go out of this world looking like a queen.

  The church was full, and if the vicar realised that half his congregation were street girls he did not show it. Not that anyone would be able to tell. Out of respect for Lily, and under Belle’s strict orders, the girls were dressed soberly, their faces stripped of make-up.

  ‘Look at them, like a Sunday School outing!’ Belle grinned. ‘I hope there ain’t a ship due in today. Those sailors will be in for a shock!’

  There was someone else in the congregation, too. As she took her own seat at the front Sadie spotted Ada Dixon in one of the back pews. She was looking very dignified in a black sable coat and neat feathered hat.

  Sadie looked over her shoulder, trying to catch her eye. But Ada Dixon kept her gaze fixed firmly ahead.

  Sadie sought her out in the churchyard after the burial.

  ‘It was good of you to come,’ she said.

  ‘I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.’ Ada glanced across the churchyard at Belle, who was watching them from a distance. ‘But I wanted to pay my respects.’ She turned to Sadie. ‘It was a lovely service. You did your mother proud.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘She sounded like a good woman.’