Vanessa sighed. ‘Why do you always have to be so dramatic? Perhaps you could come home – in a while,’ she conceded.
‘How long?’
Her sister gave a careless shrug. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘A few months, I suppose.’
‘A few months!’ Agnes looked across the table at her sister and it suddenly dawned on her that Vanessa was enjoying this. ‘I suppose my banishment must suit you down to the ground?’ she said bitterly.
Vanessa paused, her cup halfway to her lips. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘There’s just you now, isn’t there? The precious only child.’
‘Don’t be absurd!’
‘It’s true, isn’t it? You’ve always resented having to share Mother and Father with me. Now you have their undivided attention. No wonder you don’t want me to come back!’
‘You’re the one who tore this family apart, not me!’ Vanessa blurted out angrily. ‘Do you think I enjoy having to deal with Mother when she’s so upset? I didn’t make this mess, Agnes. You did. I’m just trying to pick up the pieces and keep the peace.’
‘I know,’ Agnes said quickly, desperate to appease her. She shouldn’t have lost her temper. She knew a good word from Vanessa could change her future for ever. If only she and her sister had been closer, perhaps none of this would be happening now. ‘I know how hard it must have been for you, Nessa. And I want to help. I’m sure if I could just come home and see Mother, talk to her—’
‘Don’t you understand? She doesn’t want you!’
Vanessa’s words hung in the air between them. Agnes stared at her, shocked. Suddenly the hum of the busy lounge seemed to fall silent, and all Agnes could see was her sister’s beautiful face, tense with impatience.
‘Do you want to know why I’m really here?’ Vanessa said. ‘Mother didn’t send me. She doesn’t care about you. To be frank, she would rather she never saw you again.’
Blood sang in Agnes’ ears. ‘That’s not true!’
Vanessa pulled a handful of letters out of her bag and slapped them down on the table. Agnes recognised her own handwriting on the unopened envelopes.
‘Mother refuses to read them. She doesn’t want to hear from you, or anything about you. She finds it all too upsetting.’ Vanessa kept her voice low, leaning across the table. ‘You really hurt her, Agnes. All that business with Daniel, and breaking off your engagement, and then St Jude’s … It made her terribly ill. Father and I didn’t think she would ever recover.’ Vanessa sat back, sighing. ‘I didn’t want to have to tell you because, in spite of whatever you believe, I care about you. I was trying to let you down gently and not make it too hard for you. But, typically, you had to push me into a corner and force the issue.’
Agnes was too numb with shock to react. All she could do was look at the letters lying on the table between them.
‘Mother hasn’t read them,’ she murmured.
‘No,’ Vanessa said. ‘I told you, she doesn’t want to hear from you again. As far as she’s concerned, you are dead to her.’
Her words were like a stinging blow. Agnes reeled back, too numb with shock to react for a moment.
‘What about Father?’ she found her voice at last. ‘Surely he must want to see me …’
Vanessa stared down at her hands in her lap. ‘He doesn’t want to see Mother put through any more agony,’ she said. ‘He agrees with her, it would be best for everyone if you stayed away.’
Agnes stared at her sister. She could see Vanessa’s mouth moving, but she couldn’t hear the words for the thrum of blood in her head.
Her father, her beloved father didn’t want to see her again. Knowing he had turned his back on her was far, far worse than her sister’s spite or her mother’s silence. Throughout everything, Agnes had always told herself that she still had her father’s love, even if he couldn’t show it. And now this …
Hot tears sprang to her eyes, blurring her vision. She didn’t want to cry in front of her sister, but she couldn’t help it.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Vanessa was impatient. ‘Why do you have to make such a spectacle of yourself all the time?’ She fished in her bag for a lace-edged handkerchief and pressed it into Agnes’ hand. ‘You never think of other people, only about yourself. That’s what caused all this trouble in the first place.’ She sighed. ‘Well, I can’t feel sorry for you, because you brought it on yourself. You were always the clever one, the one with the bright future. Wonderful Agnes, who was going to save lives just like Father.’ There was an edge of bitterness in Vanessa’s voice. ‘Then you ruined it all, didn’t you? And now you’ve only yourself to blame.’
Agnes barely heard what her sister was saying. Even now, her mind was scrambling to find a way out. ‘Couldn’t you talk to them?’ she pleaded.
‘I’ve tried, but Mother won’t listen.’ Vanessa didn’t meet her sister’s eye when she spoke. ‘Honestly, I’ve done everything I could.’
She must have seen Agnes’ utter wretchedness because she seemed to soften.
‘None of this needed to happen,’ she said. ‘You could have married Daniel, and everything would have been all right. But, no. You had to go your own way. Why couldn’t you just have done as you were told for once?’ She sounded more exasperated than angry.
‘I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have been right,’ Agnes murmured.
‘And this is?’ Vanessa gestured around her. ‘My God, Agnes. When you make a mess of things, you don’t do it by halves!’
She signalled to the waiter to bring the bill. Agnes stared at her in panic. ‘You’re not leaving?’
‘I really don’t think we have much more to say to each other, do you?’
‘But I thought we could spend longer together.’ She and Vanessa might not have much in common, but she was the only link Agnes had to her family and her old life, and she was desperate to cling on to her. ‘I haven’t seen you in so long. I don’t have to be back at the nurses’ home until ten.’
‘I can’t stay, I’m far too tired,’ Vanessa said, putting on her gloves.
‘But what about supper? You have to eat.’
‘I’ll have something in my room. Although I shudder to think what kind of meal this place would offer, considering they can’t even serve a decent cup of tea!’ Vanessa shuddered delicately.
She leaned forward and gave Agnes a light peck on the cheek. ‘Look after yourself,’ she said.
‘Will you write to me?’ Agnes pleaded.
‘I’ll try.’
‘At least send me a photograph of the baby …’
But her sister was already walking away.
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘I’ll be coming to call on Mr Slater with you this morning.’
‘Again?’ Polly could have bitten her tongue as soon as she’d uttered the word. But her mother had taken her by surprise, coming into the district room as Polly was packing her bag for the morning round.
She turned away so that Bess wouldn’t see her blushing. ‘There’s no need for you to come, you know,’ she said, more calmly. ‘I can manage perfectly well on my own now the doctor is happy that Mr Slater’s condition has stabilised.’
‘Yes, but I wanted to check on him. Besides, I’ve got rather a soft spot for the old man. There isn’t a problem, is there?’ Bess’ face was blandly enquiring.
‘Not at all,’ Polly lied.
‘That’s settled then.’
There was no point in arguing with her, Polly reflected as she trailed miserably after her mother on her bicycle. Once Bess’ mind was set on something, it was as good as done.
And besides, Polly didn’t want to arouse her mother’s suspicions even further.
Finn was waiting for them as usual. Polly saw his face fall when he noticed Bess, but her mother seemed oblivious.
‘Good morning, Mr Slater,’ she said, breezing past him. ‘How is your grandfather today?’
‘Better, thank you.’ Finn stared at Polly as he said it. She man
aged a slight, helpless shrug in reply.
‘Well, we won’t keep you,’ Bess said briskly, dumping her bag on the table. ‘I’m sure you must have plenty to be getting on with, especially with your grandfather laid up.’
‘But I usually wait with him while the nurse—’
‘We can manage perfectly well on our own, thank you,’ Bess cut him off. ‘We have done this before, you know.’ Her smile was cheery, but there was an underlying note of steel in her voice.
Finn glanced at Polly. She looked back at him, silently pleading with him not to argue.
Thankfully, he seemed to get the message. ‘I’ll finish the washing-up and be off then,’ he muttered.
They left him in the kitchen and went in to see old Henry. He was sitting up in bed waiting for them.
‘What’s this?’ He beamed with delight. ‘Two nurses again? Either I’m the luckiest man in Leeds or I’m at death’s door!’
‘Neither, Mr Slater.’ Bess smiled back at him. ‘I’ve just come to lend a hand, that’s all.’
‘Well, that’ll be nice for you, won’t it?’ Henry said to Polly. ‘It’s good to have your family around you, for a bit of company, like.’ He looked beyond them. ‘Speaking of which, where’s Finn?’
‘I sent him off to make himself useful,’ Bess said.
Henry chuckled. ‘I’ll bet he loved that! Finn’s not one for taking orders.’
Just at that moment the back door slammed. ‘See what I mean?’ Henry turned to Polly. ‘All the same, he’ll be sorry not to see you, lass,’ he said with a wink.
Polly felt her face flood with fiery colour and shot a quick glance at her mother, but Bess was reading the doctor’s message paper and thankfully didn’t seem to notice the old man’s remark.
Polly washed her hands and went to fetch the thermometer from the jar of disinfectant, ready to take Henry’s temperature, but Bess snatched it out of her fingers. ‘I’ll do his TPR,’ she said.
Polly held on to her temper. ‘What shall I do?’ she asked, through clenched teeth.
‘Why don’t you go and make Mr Slater a nice cup of tea? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, love?’
‘I wouldn’t say no,’ Henry said.
‘Nor would I. Off you go, Polly, and put the kettle on.’
‘Polly put the kettle on!’ Henry laughed. ‘That’s a good one.’
But Polly wasn’t laughing as she went into the kitchen. She was beginning to understand how poor Agnes must have felt, never being allowed to do anything but make the tea.
She had just picked up the kettle from the stove when a voice behind her said, ‘What’s she doing back here?’
Polly dropped the kettle with a clatter and swung round as a figure separated itself from the shadows behind her.
‘Finn? What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone out.’
‘Your mother might be able to tell you what to do, but she doesn’t give me orders!’ His face was grim. ‘How long is she going to keep coming here?’
‘I don’t know.’ Polly picked up the kettle again and went to fill it at the big stone sink.
‘Do you think she knows about us?’
‘I don’t think so or I would have heard about it by now.’
He moved towards her and the next moment she felt his hand gently caressing the back of her neck. She flinched away.
Finn let out a sigh of annoyance. ‘I don’t know how much longer I can stand this,’ he muttered. ‘Not being able to touch you, or even talk to you …’
‘It won’t be for much longer, I promise.’
‘Won’t it?’ There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice. ‘Nothing’s ever going to change, is it? You’re never going to tell your mother about us. I’m always going to be your shameful secret.’
‘Finn, that’s not true.’
Polly was about to reach for him but then she heard her mother’s heavy footsteps coming down the hall, and snatched her hand away just as Bess appeared in the doorway.
‘Has that kettle boiled yet? I need some hot water for—’ She stopped when she saw Finn standing there. ‘Oh, hello. I thought you’d gone out.’
‘Yes, well, I came back in.’
‘What for?’
‘Because it’s my house and I can do as I please.’ He faced Bess insolently. Polly caught her mother’s darkening expression and jumped in quickly.
‘I’ll bring the hot water in, shall I?’ she offered.
‘No,’ Bess said, her stony gaze still fixed on Finn. ‘You go and do Mr Slater’s teeth for him. I’ll wait for the kettle to boil.’
Polly sent a last helpless glance at Finn and went off. Something must have gone on between him and her mother because a moment later she heard the door slam again.
‘Sounds like they’ve had a falling-out,’ Henry said.
I hope not, Polly prayed silently. Finn wasn’t doing either of them any favours by trying to get the better of her mother.
She didn’t see him again. But as they retrieved their bicycles from around the side of the cottage, her mother suddenly said, ‘You needn’t visit Mr Slater again. I’ll be taking over his care from now on.’
All kinds of thoughts ran through Polly’s mind. She kept her lips pressed close together to stop herself from blurting out the wrong thing. ‘What about Miss Jarvis?’ she managed finally. ‘This is her area, and she’s supposed to be supervising me, not—’
‘I’ll speak to her about it,’ Bess cut her off.
Polly looked at her mother and saw the mute challenge in her eyes. This was another test, to goad Polly into saying something she shouldn’t.
‘If that’s what you want,’ she said, and had the scant satisfaction of seeing her mother’s thwarted anger written all over her face.
That afternoon was Polly’s half-day holiday so she hurried back to the church to see Finn.
She found him at the far end of the churchyard, cutting back the overhanging skirt of a yew tree, with Job lying on the ground close by as usual.
Job’s head shot up out of the tall grass at the sound of her approaching footsteps. He scrambled to his feet and galloped to greet her, but still Finn didn’t acknowledge her as he hacked away at the branches.
Polly’s heart sank, sensing his dark mood. But she pressed on up the path towards him.
‘I see Job’s not off after rabbits today?’ she commented.
‘Happen he’s already caught his fair share.’
Finn’s broad back was turned to her. Polly took a step towards him and put out her hand to touch his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body and hard play of muscle beneath his shirt.
‘Aren’t you afraid someone will see you?’ His voice sounded bitter.
‘I don’t care if they do.’
‘That’s not how it seemed earlier.’ He moved away from her to reach for another branch, shrugging her off.
Polly sighed. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just my mother—’
‘You don’t have to tell me what she’s like,’ Finn muttered.
Polly scratched Job’s head. He looked up at her with trusting brown eyes. ‘Then surely you can see why it’s so difficult?’
‘Oh, I can see that all right. Too difficult, I reckon.’
Polly looked up at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The way I see it, I don’t think there’s much point in us carrying on.’
Panic fluttered in her chest. ‘Don’t say that!’
Finn dropped his blade and turned to face her. ‘Look, I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said softly. ‘But I don’t want to be your secret either.’
‘You’re not.’
‘I am, Polly. And that’s all I’ll ever be. But that’s not what I want. I love you, and I want the whole world to know it.’
Polly stopped dead in her tracks. ‘You – love me?’
Now it was Finn’s turn to freeze. ‘I didn’t mean to come out with it like that,’ he murmured, turning away from her.
Polly
found herself staring at his back again. He loved her. It didn’t matter how he’d said it, the words were out there.
‘I love you too,’ she said. He didn’t turn round, but she saw the muscles in his broad shoulders stiffen.
She took a deep breath. ‘I’ll talk to my mother,’ she promised.
‘You don’t have to.’ His voice was gruff.
‘I do,’ she insisted. ‘You’re right, you deserve to be more than a secret. She needs to know.’
‘Do you want me with you? I don’t like to think of you being by yourself …’
Polly had a sudden vision of Frank. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘This is something I need to do alone.’
But telling her mother proved harder than Polly had thought. She returned to Steeple Street to find that Bess had been called out to attend a birth. When her mother came home in the middle of the evening, she promptly disappeared to the district room to catch up on her notes from the day.
When Polly asked if she could talk to her, she was dismissed with a brisk ‘Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I’ve spent the last six hours delivering a baby, and now I’m up to my eyeballs in paperwork. I’m in no mood to chat.’
Polly went to bed that night in despair. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn her mother was avoiding her on purpose.
But that couldn’t be right, she thought. Bess Bradshaw never ran away from an argument. Especially not one with her daughter.
Polly lay in the darkness, tossing and turning, her body weary but her mind too wide awake for sleep. On the other side of the room, she could hear Agnes’ soft breathing. She was awake too, but Polly sensed she wouldn’t want to talk. Agnes had been quiet for a few days now, lost in her own thoughts. But when Polly had tried to speak to her, her room mate had forced a smile and insisted that all was well.
Eventually, even Agnes fell into a fitful sleep. But Polly was still restless, staring at the hands of her alarm clock in the moonlit darkness as they crept towards midnight. She had promised Finn she would talk to her mother before the day was out, and she was determined to keep her promise.
She was fully prepared to wake her mother up, but when she crept out on to the landing, she saw a crack of light under Bess’ door. So she hadn’t been able to sleep either. Polly couldn’t imagine her mother being kept awake by doubts and fears. She was far too sure of herself for that.
The Nurses of Steeple Street Page 25