She was fooling herself, and she knew it. Already, her feelings were beginning to overtake her. When she tried to picture a future without Finn in it, she felt desperately miserable.
Which was why she tried not to think about it. For now, she lived in a little bubble of joy, telling herself that the future would take care of itself.
She telephoned the doctor, just as morning surgery was coming to an end.
‘You’re lucky,’ the cheerful woman on the other end of the line said. ‘Dr Marsh hasn’t started on his rounds yet. I’ll make sure he calls in to you first.’
Polly thanked her and hurried back to the church. As she entered through the lych gate, she caught a glimpse of Matthew, deep in conversation with Reverend Turner. She quickly swerved off the path but not before the curate turned around and saw her. He lifted his hand in a wave, and Polly waved back half-heartedly. She couldn’t ever look at him without feeling a twinge of guilt. She didn’t know why, since she’d never set out to encourage him.
But today he looked happy, his smile broader than she’d seen it in a long time. Perhaps he’d finally got over his unrequited feelings for her, she thought.
The cottage door was half open, so Polly hurried inside.
‘I’ve spoken to the doctor, and he says he’ll be here within an hour so …’ She glanced around the empty kitchen. ‘Finn?’
She heard his footsteps coming down the passageway from his grandfather’s room. A moment later he appeared in the doorway, a strange, frozen expression on his face.
Polly frowned. ‘Finn? What is it? What’s wrong?’
And then a second figure appeared, just behind his shoulder, and she realised why he looked so stricken.
‘Now then,’ said her mother, looking from one to the other of them. ‘What’s to do here?’
Polly stared at Finn in horror, but his rigid expression gave nothing away.
Bess didn’t seem to notice the tension between them. ‘Mr Slater tells me you’ve telephoned the doctor?’
Polly nodded, still shocked and baffled by her mother’s presence. ‘Mr Slater’s pulse was slow this morning.’
‘You didn’t give him the digitalis?’
‘No, I thought it best to wait.’ All the time, Polly’s mind was racing. Had she given herself away? she wondered.
If she had, her mother gave no sign of it. ‘Good idea,’ she said. ‘We’ll wait and see what the doctor says, just to be on the safe side. Mr Slater seems comfortable enough anyway. Has he eaten?’
‘I gave him his breakfast this morning.’ Finn’s voice sounded gruff. His eyes were fixed on Polly.
‘And his appetite was all right?’
‘I think so. He ate what I gave him, at any rate.’
‘Well, that’s something. I’ll go and check his pulse again, just to make sure.’ Bess turned and bustled off down the passageway to Henry’s room, and at last Polly could let out the breath she’d been holding.
‘What’s she doing here?’ she hissed to Finn.
‘I don’t know, she knocked on the door a couple of minutes ago. I thought it was you come back,’ he said. ‘You weren’t expecting her, were you?’
‘No!’
‘Then why has she come?’
‘I don’t know.’ And that was what was worrying her.
‘Perhaps the doctor told her to come?’
Polly shook her head. ‘I’ve only just spoken to him. Besides, she would have said—’
Then Bess reappeared and they stood away from each other guiltily.
‘And you say Dr Marsh is on his way?’ said Bess, checking her watch. Polly nodded. ‘Very well, you get off and I’ll wait for him.’
‘But Mr Slater is my patient!’ Polly protested.
‘And you have others waiting who need you just as much as he does,’ Bess reminded her.
‘No, I’ll wait and talk to the doctor myself.’ Polly had caught Finn’s look of dismay. ‘You don’t know the case as well as I do.’
‘I know heart disease when I see it!’ Bess scoffed. ‘Now do as you’re told, lass. I’ll see you back at the nurses’ house later. Don’t look so worried,’ she added. ‘I’m sure I can manage here just as well as you can. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?’ she added, her brows rising.
Polly looked at her mother’s questioning face. She couldn’t know, she thought. Polly had been so careful not to give herself away. She was just being silly, reading too much into things.
‘No,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘She lied to me,’ Bess said. ‘You should have seen her, Ellen. She looked right into my face and lied to me without turning a hair.’
‘How do you know Polly was lying?’ Ellen Jarvis said. ‘She might have been telling the truth for all you know.’
Bess shook her head. ‘I could see it in her eyes. As soon as she walked in, before she knew I was there. It was the way she looked at him …’ Bess stopped, too furious to carry on. That look had stopped her in her tracks. As soon as she’d seen it, she had known Polly was lost to her again.
Bess hadn’t taken to that curate either. He was far too pleased with himself for her liking. The way he’d sat there, on the same couch where Ellen was sitting now, looking so self-righteous.
‘This gives me no pleasure, believe me, but I thought you ought to know … I’m very concerned …’
Concerned, my backside! Bess had thought. He’d come to make trouble, it was plain to see. And as for it giving him no pleasure – well, she could see that sneaky little twist to his lips that he tried so hard to hide.
Bess might have sent him packing there and then, if he hadn’t touched a core of fear deep inside her.
She had wondered about it. Polly seemed so content these days, Bess had dared to think that all her restless grieving of the past two years was finally over, that she was beginning to settle down. Bess had even allowed herself to reach out to her daughter, albeit cautiously.
And then that wretched Mr Elliott had shown up at the door with a terrible tale to tell of how Polly had gone and got herself infatuated with a dangerous criminal.
Bess hadn’t wanted to believe it. But then when she’d seen the two of them together, she’d known.
It was all starting again. She was going to lose her daughter once more.
‘Well, what’s the harm in it?’ Ellen was saying. ‘Polly’s a young woman. It’s only natural that she should fall in love. I’m glad for her,’ she declared.
Bess glared at her. She and Ellen Jarvis had known each other for a long time, but her friend’s habit of always trying to see the good in everything and everyone got on Bess’ nerves. Ellen had never married, and all her knowledge of love came from the romance novels she devoured from the lending library. No wonder she had such rose-tinted ideas.
‘Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? The man’s been to prison.’
‘Perhaps he’s a reformed character?’
Bess snorted. Finn Slater didn’t seem like a reformed character to her, with his gruff manner and glowering expression.
‘Once a bad ’un, always a bad ’un,’ she muttered. ‘And I know a bad ’un when I see one.’
‘Do you? I wonder,’ Ellen said.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You don’t really know him at all, do you? You’ve only met him once. And yet you’ve already made up your mind about him, just like you did about poor Frank.’
‘Frank!’ Bess stiffened at the sound of his name. She might have known Ellen would bring him into it.
‘You never took the time to get to know him either,’ Ellen said.
‘I knew enough.’
‘No, you didn’t. You’re too quick to judge, that’s your trouble. You took against him, and that was that.’
‘He ruined my daughter’s life!’ Bess flared back. ‘Polly had a bright future ahead of her, until he came along. He dragged her down to his level, took away all her chances, made her live in a h
ovel. Do you think I wanted that for her?’
‘It was what Polly wanted, and that was what mattered.’
‘Polly doesn’t know her own mind.’
‘Yes, she does, Bess. She loved Frank. And he loved her too. They were happy together.’
‘For how long? Love doesn’t last. Within a couple of years she would have been wretched …’
‘You don’t know that. Not everyone is like you and Albert, you know.’
Bess glared at her. ‘This has got nothing to do with me or Albert. This is to do with Polly. She’s been given a second chance and now she’s going to ruin it again.’
Ellen sent her a wise look. ‘Perhaps it’s because it’s not what she wants?’
‘Why did she come back to nursing, in that case?’
‘Oh, Bess.’ Ellen sounded almost pitying. ‘You’ll never see it, will you? Polly didn’t come back to nursing. She came back to you.’
Bess stared at her. It was the first time she’d heard such a thing, and her mind instantly rejected it. ‘Don’t be daft!’
‘It’s true. Everything she does, the fact that she’s here now, putting up with all your nonsense, is because she wants to please you. Can’t you see the poor girl’s desperate for your approval?’
Bess frowned, trying to take it in. It wasn’t right, any of it. Polly was a daddy’s girl, and always had been. There had never been any room in her life for Bess. How often had she sat and watched the two of them laughing together, and wished she could be as close as that to her little girl? But Polly never seemed to welcome her mother’s attention. It broke Bess’ heart when she looked at her with the same indifferent gaze as her husband did.
There had been a time, after Albert’s death, when she’d had her daughter to herself and then she’d thought that perhaps they might be able to build the bond that had been missing all those years. But then Frank had come between them and ruined everything.
And now another man was going to do the same thing.
‘If Polly cared that much, she wouldn’t be doing this,’ muttered Bess.
‘If you cared, you wouldn’t make her choose,’ Ellen replied.
‘What am I supposed to do? Stand by and watch her throw her life away again? It’s all very well for you to sit there and give advice. You don’t have a daughter, you don’t know what it’s like.’
Bess saw her friend wince, and regretted her sharp words straight away.
‘You’re right,’ Ellen agreed. ‘I don’t know what it is to be a mother, and perhaps that is why I can see the situation more clearly than you can. And I can see you’d be doing the wrong thing if you interfered.’ She leaned forward, her expression serious. ‘I mean it, Bess. You drove Polly away once. Don’t make the same mistake again.’
Chapter Thirty-One
By the end of the week her fever had abated and Agnes was back on her feet and ready to start on her rounds again. Dr Branning had put her illness down to a winter chill, and she saw no reason to argue otherwise.
But at least now Bess had abandoned the idea of following her on her rounds, checking up on her. Instead, she seemed preoccupied with making her daughter’s life a misery again.
Agnes was mystified that morning when Polly told her Bess was accompanying her to visit a patient.
‘Why doesn’t she ask Miss Jarvis to supervise you?’ Agnes asked. ‘She’s the district nurse for your area after all.’
‘She doesn’t trust Miss Jarvis to keep a close enough eye on me,’ Polly said. She sat at the mirror, pinning her cap in place on her fair hair.
‘Good heavens, does she think you’re that bad?’
‘I don’t think it’s anything to do with my work.’ Polly paused for a minute, then said, ‘Can you keep a secret?’
Agnes resisted the urge to smile. If anyone could keep a secret, she could. ‘Yes, I can. What is it?’
‘I – I think I’ve fallen in love.’
‘Really? Who is it? Do I know him?’ Agnes hoped it wasn’t the curate they’d met at the church hall dance. Phil had been very taken with him, but there was something about him Agnes didn’t like.
‘No, he’s called Finn Slater.’ Polly blushed lightly as she said his name. ‘He’s the grandson of a patient I’ve been visiting.’
‘And you think your mother has found out about him?’ Agnes guessed.
Polly nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. Mr Slater … his grandfather … is the only patient she insists on visiting with me, and there’s something about the way she watches me when I’m there … She knows, I’m sure of it. And she’s very cold towards Finn, too.’
‘For goodness’ sake, why shouldn’t you fall in love if you want to?’ Agnes said impatiently. ‘It’s nothing to do with your mother, is it?’
‘But that’s just it,’ Polly said. ‘I’ve spent so long trying to prove to her that I’m serious about nursing, and as soon as I start to think I’m getting somewhere, this happens! She’s bound to think history is repeating itself.’
‘And is it? Are you planning to run off with him to Gretna Green?’
‘No!’ Polly said through a mouthful of pins. ‘I would never do that again. But my mother won’t believe it. She’ll just think I’m being silly again, letting my heart rule my head.’
‘What’s more important?’ Agnes asked. ‘Proving yourself to your mother or being with the man you love?’
Polly sighed. ‘Put like that, I suppose … Oh, I don’t know! I really want to be with Finn, but I don’t want to let my mother down again.’ She looked at Agnes, her mouth twisting. ‘What must you think of me? You’re so sensible. You probably think I’m quite mad to worry so much about what my mother thinks!’
‘No,’ Agnes said quietly. ‘No, not at all.’
‘Anyway,’ Polly said, rising to her feet, ‘I’d better go or I’ll be late. And then my mother will have something else to scold me about!’ She gave Agnes a cheery little wave. ‘Wish me luck, won’t you?’
‘Good luck,’ Agnes called after her, then turned back to her own reflection in the mirror. After a week, she was filled with apprehension at the thought of seeing her patients again. Even her blue uniform looked oddly unfamiliar on her.
Polly wasn’t the only one who would need some luck, she thought.
Thankfully, most of Agnes’ calls weren’t too difficult, and she was gratified that a couple of her patients even seemed pleased to see her.
Until she reached the last call on her list.
She hadn’t seen Mrs Willis since their encounter at the district nurses’ house. But from the frosty expression on her face when she opened the door, she still hadn’t forgiven Agnes.
‘You’re back, are you?’ she muttered.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Willis.’ Agnes pasted on her brightest smile, determined to make peace with her. ‘How are you today?’
‘If I say, will you go running off to tell the world?’ Mrs Willis snapped back.
‘Now then, Nettie, leave the lass alone. She were only trying to help.’
Agnes was surprised to see Mr Willis in the doorway, leaning heavily on his stick. She was even more surprised that he was defending her.
‘We don’t need any help from the likes of her!’ Mrs Willis grunted, turning back to the vegetables she was peeling. Her movements were quick and agitated.
Mr Willis shook his head. ‘Come through, nurse,’ he said.
Agnes followed him into the bedroom, picking her way carefully between the grubby mattresses strewn over the floor. ‘I see from your notes that your stomach is playing up today?’ she said.
‘Aye, that’s right, nurse. Been having terrible pains. Can’t keep anything down either.’ He grimaced, running his hand over his abdomen. ‘No sooner has one thing got sorted than another starts up, eh?’
‘You certainly don’t seem to be having a lot of luck, Mr Willis, that’s for sure.’ Agnes glanced through the message paper the doctor had left for her. As well as all his other problems, Mr Willis also suffered fr
om chronic gastritis. The doctor had prescribed bed rest, with an aperient for the sickness, and hot fomentations and aspirin for the pain.
‘Luck!’ said Mr Willis bitterly. ‘I dunno if I know what that is any more.’
‘Well, let’s get you into bed anyway,’ Agnes said bracingly. ‘The doctor said you have to rest.’
‘That’s about all I seem to do these days!’
There was a hostile silence from the kitchen as Agnes set about making the hot fomentation for Mr Willis’ painful stomach. Mrs Willis made a point of fussing over her children and ignoring her.
Mr Willis looked amused when Agnes returned. ‘I’m sorry about the wife,’ he said.
‘I have upset her, haven’t I?’ Agnes looked rueful.
‘She in’t usually like that. She’s just got a lot on her mind, that’s all, what with making ends meet – and before you say owt, we don’t want any more charity,’ he warned.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it, Mr Willis,’ Agnes said. ‘Believe me, I learned my lesson after last time.’
Mr Willis’ expression softened. ‘As I said to Nettie, I know you were only trying to help,’ he said. ‘But she’s proud, that’s her trouble.’
It’s all she’s got left. Bess’ wise words ran through Agnes’ mind.
‘I dunno why,’ Mr Willis continued. ‘God knows I’ve not given the poor lass much to be proud about.’
‘You mustn’t think like that.’
‘Why not? It’s the truth. I can see it on her face, even though she tries to hide it. She must wonder what she ever did to deserve a man like me.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t keep a job, can barely keep a roof over our heads or put food on the table. My own wife has to go out scrubbing floors to pay the rent. And all because I’m not man enough to take care of my own family.’
His voice was heavy, weighed down by sadness. His head was bowed, and wretchedness seemed to ooze out of him, deadening the room around them. Agnes floundered for a moment, at a loss for what to say.
‘But surely there must be some kind of work you can do, even with your injuries?’ she ventured cautiously.
The Nurses of Steeple Street Page 23