A Nightingale Christmas Promise

by Donna Douglas

She looked up, her eyes meeting his calmly. ‘Yes. Why shouldn’t I be?’

  ‘I dunno. I just thought you might—’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ he sighed.

  He stood in silence for a moment, staring at her.

  ‘Well?’ Belle broke the silence. ‘Ain’t you got any more police work to do, Constable? I’ll bet Roman Road’s full of drunks you could arrest, this time of night.’

  Peter hesitated for a moment, then wished them good night and left.

  Belle closed the door firmly behind him and leant against it.

  ‘Well,’ she said. ‘That’s that, then.’

  ‘That’s that.’ Sadie paused for a moment. ‘What do you think happened?’

  ‘Dunno. Probably had a skinful and fell in. That’s what usually happens, ain’t it?’

  ‘You really believe that?’

  ‘What other reason could there be?’

  They looked at each other for a long time. ‘You’re right,’ Sadie said. ‘It was probably an accident.’

  ‘He wanted to stay, you know.’ Belle changed the subject.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Him.’ She jerked her head towards the door. ‘PC Machin. I reckon he’s sweet on you.’

  ‘Come off it!’

  ‘I mean it. I’ve seen the way he looks at you with those sad, little boy lost eyes of his.’ Belle sent her a shrewd look. ‘I reckon you could do a lot worse for yourself, too.’

  ‘Do you now?’

  ‘I do. Perhaps I should have invited him to stay. It’s a perishing night, I reckon he would have appreciated a little warm by the fire …’

  ‘You can stop your matchmaking, Belle. I ain’t interested.’

  Sadie went to the window and looked down into the street. Peter Machin had already disappeared, leaving a trail of boot prints in the thick snow.

  ‘That would be something, wouldn’t it?’ Belle chuckled. ‘Can you imagine it? Lily Sedgewick’s daughter ending up with a policeman?’

  Sadie looked back out of the window and smiled. ‘Sounds like a match made in heaven,’ she said.

  Christmas morning on Monaghan ward began just after midnight with a ruptured appendix, an acute bronchitis, a couple of badly infected wounds and a vomiting and diarrhoea virus that spread like wildfire.

  Kate had the misfortune of being the doctor on call, and spent most of the night trying to cope with it all. Probationers Copeland and Beck did their best to keep up, but in the end all three of them were rushing from bed to bed, administering bowls and changing sheets. By the time dawn broke they were so broken and exhausted they could scarcely speak, let alone wish each other a merry Christmas. Kate had lost count of how many clean aprons the nurses had gone through during the course of the night.

  ‘I suppose this will be good training for you when you get to France,’ Kate said to Eleanor Copeland when they stopped for a cup of tea just before six. The ward was still in darkness, silent but for the snoring of the men.

  ‘I suppose it will, Miss,’ Eleanor replied.

  ‘It’s your last week here, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right, Miss. I leave New Year’s Eve.’

  ‘We’ll be sorry to lose you. You’re an excellent nurse.’

  Colour rose in Eleanor’s cheeks as she handed Kate her tea. ‘Thank you, Miss.’

  ‘Our loss is the Voluntary Aid Detachment’s gain, I suppose.’ Kate looked at her respectfully over the rim of her cup. Eleanor Copeland had all the makings of a fine nurse. Far too good to waste her talents making beds and scrubbing out bedpans with the VAD. But she had been so restless since the incident with her brother, no one was surprised when she announced she had enlisted.

  ‘If only you could have finished your nursing training,’ Kate said. ‘Then you could have joined the Military Nursing Service.’

  Copeland shook her head. ‘I couldn’t wait,’ she said. ‘I wanted to go as soon as possible. I talked about it with my father, and I felt it was my duty.’

  Kate read the unspoken message in her eyes. She needed to atone for her brother’s shortcomings. Honour required there should be a Copeland on the battlefield in France, and her father had decided it would be his daughter.

  Kate knew all about domineering fathers.

  ‘My brother has gone to France, too,’ she said. ‘He’s joined the Army Medical Reserve.’

  ‘Good for him,’ Eleanor Copeland said.

  Kate wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t Leo’s decision to go but their father had insisted. Sir Philip had pulled strings and called in favours, and Leo had been quietly removed from the Nightingale and inducted into the military. Her father pretended he had done it to salvage his son’s career, but Kate and her brother both understood this was Leo’s punishment for letting him down.

  Kate knew her father would have sent her into the military too, if he could. As it was, Sir Philip chose to ignore her presence completely. He never acknowledged or spoke to her if he could help it. If they met on the ward or in the corridor he would look the other way.

  Kate was surprised by how little it troubled her. She had stopped looking for her father’s approval. She knew she would never get it, and after the way Sir Philip had treated her over Corporal Rayner’s death, she no longer wanted it anyway. His good opinion meant nothing to her.

  ‘How is your brother getting on?’ Kate asked.

  ‘He’s doing well, thank you, Miss.’ Eleanor Copeland’s gaze dropped.

  ‘Still at the hospital in Scotland?’

  ‘Yes. I’m hoping to see him before I go to France.’

  ‘Be sure to give him my best wishes, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, Miss.’ Eleanor paused for a moment, pursing her lips. ‘I’m very grateful,’ she said. ‘For everything you’ve done.’

  Anna Beck came in to the kitchen and Eleanor fell silent. Kate understood why.

  Only she and Eleanor knew about the Blighty wound. It had to be a secret, for Harry’s sake. If anyone found out what really happened there would be a court martial. Harry Copeland could end up in prison, or even shot.

  Kate was only grateful that his father had decided to keep quiet about it. Perhaps he had a heart after all, she thought. Or more likely the shame of having a coward for a son was greater than the desire to see justice served.

  They finished their tea. Kate was washing up the cups at the sink when she heard a familiar voice ringing down the ward.

  ‘Good morning, Gentlemen! Merry Christmas to one and all.’

  Kate carried on with her washing up, annoyed to find herself blushing like a schoolgirl. She was even more annoyed that Eleanor Copeland and Anna Beck suddenly seemed to be watching her keenly.

  By the time Rufus French stuck his head around the kitchen door a moment later, Kate had composed herself enough to turn around and face him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded.

  ‘Well, that’s a nice greeting, I must say. And on Christmas morning, too.’ He winked at the student nurses.

  ‘I’m far too tired for your fooling about, Dr French,’ Kate said. ‘I’ve had a sleepless night.’

  ‘As have I, Miss Carlyle.’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve been looking after patients, not cavorting all night in the Students’ Union bar.’

  ‘The festive spirit has passed our Miss Carlyle by, it seems.’

  The nurses giggled, but Kate didn’t take offence. She had learnt not to take herself too seriously, especially where Rufus French was concerned.

  ‘Unlike you.’ Kate sniffed the air. ‘You reek of whisky. What do you want, anyway? You still haven’t told me.’

  ‘To see you, of course.’

  Kate turned away, knowing her rising colour would give her away.

  ‘What’s wrong? Have all the pretty nurses turned you down?’

  ‘Alas, I only have eyes for you these days.’

  Kate ducked her head, hiding her smile. ‘Now I know you’re drunk,’ she said.

  ‘They make a lovely couple, don’t th
ey?’ Anna said to Eleanor as they left the ward an hour later. It was a relief to hand over to the day staff, although they still had to help with the breakfasts, sort the laundry and clean up the ward after their hectic night.

  Eleanor looked up vaguely. ‘Who?’

  ‘Dr French and Miss Carlyle. There’s definitely some romance there, don’t you think?’

  ‘Is there? I hadn’t noticed.’

  Anna sent her a sideways look. Eleanor Copeland had been changed by her brother’s illness. She no longer bustled around so much, bossing everyone about. There was no more sewing of sandbags or knitting of socks. She seemed quieter, more reflective, as if nearly losing her brother had somehow rubbed off some of her sharp edges.

  She was certainly less abrasive with Anna. No one could ever call them friends, but at least they were civil to each other now. Anna even thought she might miss Eleanor when she went off to France. Miss Carlyle was right, it would be a shame to lose her. For all her faults, Eleanor Copeland was an excellent nurse.

  The sky was streaked with the first pale dawn sunlight as they returned to their rooms to change. Anna quickly set about putting away her uniform, while Eleanor flopped on to her bed and closed her eyes.

  She was still there when Anna had finished getting dressed. Anna watched her in the reflection of the dressing table mirror while she did her hair. ‘What are you going to do today?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Eleanor’s reply was muffled, her face buried in the pillow.

  ‘You’re not going home to visit your family?’

  Eleanor was silent. She never seemed to talk about her father and mother anymore. There was certainly no more spouting from John Bull.

  Anna hesitated. It was none of her business, she told herself. Eleanor had done nothing to earn her friendship.

  She remembered her father’s words.

  Everyone deserves a second chance.

  Anna cleared her throat nervously. ‘You could always come home with me?’ she said.

  As soon as she had uttered the words she realised how stupid they sounded. Of course she would refuse. Why on earth would she do otherwise? Eleanor might have softened over the past months, but it was utterly foolish of her to expect her to change her heart that much.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘it was stupid of me to even suggest—’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Anna looked up sharply, her eyes meeting Eleanor’s reflection in the mirror. Even then, she wasn’t sure she had heard properly.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ she said.

  Eleanor sent her a tremulous smile. ‘I said I’d love to come,’ she said.

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW

  The Nightingale Hospital, 1938

  As Christmas approaches, the staff at the Nightingale Hospital have their own wishes for the festive season.

  Ward sister Frannie Wallace is hoping she won’t have to live through another war like the one that claimed her beloved fiancé while Staff Nurse Helen Dawson wants to find happiness again after the death of her husband.

  Matron Kathleen Fox struggles to keep up morale and while everyone else worries about the future of the Nightingale, it’s for her own future that Kathleen truly fears.

  As the country prepares itself for war, one thing is for sure – by the time next Christmas comes, nothing at the Nightingale Hospital will be the same again …

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW

  The Nightingale Hospital, 1941

  Christmas is fast approaching and with shortages everywhere, and every news bulletin announcing more defeats and losses, the British people are weary and demoralised and the Nightingale Hospital is suffering too.

  Millie is recently widowed and dealing with the demands of her family’s estate. It’s not long before her old world of the Nightingale begins to beckon, along with a long-lost love. Jess is struggling with her move from East London to the quiet of the countryside while Effie finds herself exiled to a quiet village. But the quiet doesn’t last for long as Ellie soon finds excitement in the shape of a smooth-talking GI …

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW

  The Nightingale Hospital, 1944

  With her husband Nick away fighting, Dora struggles to keep the home fires burning and is put in charge of a ward full of German prisoners of war. Can she find it in her heart to care for her enemies?

  Fellow nurse Kitty thinks she might be falling for a German soldier, whilst Dora’s old friend Helen returns from Europe with a dark secret …

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW

  The Nightingale Hospital, 1945

  The war is over, but its scars remain and Matron Kathleen Fox has the job of putting the Nightingale Hospital back together. But memories and ghosts of those lost fill the bomb-damaged buildings, and she wonders if she is up to the task.

  In the name of festive cheer Kathleen decides to put on a Christmas Show for the patients. The idea is greeted with mixed feelings by the nurses, who are struggling with their own post-war problems.

  As rehearsals begin however, it seems the show isn’t just a tonic for the patients – could the Nightingale Christmas Show be just what the doctor ordered for the nurses too?

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW

  Welcome to the district nurses’ home on Steeple Street, where everyone has a secret …

  Ambitious young nurse Agnes Sheridan had a promising future ahead of her until a tragic mistake brought all her dreams crashing down. Now she has come to Leeds for a fresh start as a trainee district nurse.

  But Agnes finds herself facing unexpected challenges as she is assigned to one of the city’s most notorious slums. Before she can redeem herself in the eyes of her family, she must first win the trust of her patients and fellow nurses.

  Does Agnes have what it takes or will the tragedy of her past catch up with her?

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW

  West Yorkshire, 1926

  After completing her training in Steeple Street, Agnes Sheridan is looking forward to making her mark as Bowden’s first district nurse.

  But when Agnes arrives, she’s treated with suspicion, labelled just another servant of the wealthy mine owners. The locals would much rather place their trust in the resident healer – Hannah Arkwright.

  And when the General Strike throws the village into turmoil, the miners and their families face hunger and hardship, and Agnes finds her loyalties tested.

  Now it’s time to prove whose side she is really on and to fight for her place in the village …

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Epub ISBN: 9781473539020

  Version 1.0

  Published by Arrow Books 2018

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  Copyright © Donna Douglas 2018

  Cover photography by Colin Thomas except background images © Alamy

  Back cover twigs and berries © Depositphotos

  Donna Douglas has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  First published in Great Britain by Arrow Books in 2018

  Arrow Books

  The Penguin Random House Group Limited

  20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London, SW1V 2SA

  www.penguin.co.uk

  Arrow Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 9781784757144

  s, A Nightingale Christmas Promise