A Nightingale Christmas Carol

by Donna Douglas

  ‘Don’t,’ Kitty shuddered.

  ‘Why not? That’s just the way war is, Kitty. Like I said, for every German with a sad story to tell, there are half a dozen of our lads with an even worse one. So if I were you, I shouldn’t waste my pity on the Germans. If you want to feel sorry for anyone, it should be your own side.’

  ‘I see it’s the old troll’s turn to put you to bed tonight?’

  Felix’s voice was mocking. Stefan quickly glanced at Miss Sloan, forgetting she couldn’t understand a word the young soldier was saying. But she smiled back at him, blissfully unaware as she pulled the covers up over him.

  ‘What a pity for you, Oberleutnant, that it isn’t your girlfriend,’ Felix went on. ‘I know how you look forward to saying goodnight to her,’ he taunted.

  Stefan ignored him. He had heard the young Gefreiter’s comments too often to be affected by them any longer. Instead he made a point of smiling sweetly to Miss Sloan and thanking her in English for her care, knowing how much it would irritate Felix.

  Miss Sloan blushed. ‘Oh, you’re welcome, young man,’ she beamed back. She turned to Felix, but her smile faded when he glared back at her with a hostile, icy gaze.

  As soon as Miss Sloan had gone, Felix turned on Stefan. ‘You are a disgrace to your uniform,’ he hissed. ‘Look at you, fraternising with the enemy.’

  ‘Miss Sloan is hardly the enemy,’ Stefan mocked. ‘She is an elderly lady who teaches music.’

  Felix ignored him. ‘You are a disgrace,’ he repeated. ‘I do not understand how you made it to the rank of Oberleutnant.’

  ‘By following orders, just like you,’ Stefan replied.

  Two bright spots of angry colour stained Felix’s high cheekbones. Stefan had no animosity towards the young man. He reminded him of Emil, just a child who had been given a gun and a uniform and brainwashed into believing that the whole world outside the Fatherland was his enemy. If Emil had lived, he would have been as proud of the black patch on his prison garb as Felix was.

  Stefan looked at him, sitting upright in his bed, his eyes cold and watchful. ‘You can stop fighting, you know,’ he said wearily. ‘The war is over. For us, anyway.’

  ‘Never!’ Felix spat out the word. ‘I will never be like you, Oberleutnant, rolling over on your back like a dog to have its belly scratched.’

  Stefan sighed. ‘Very well, if you want to make life difficult for yourself, then so be it. I am only giving you my advice.’

  ‘I don’t need your advice!’ Felix’s eyes blazed with icy fire. ‘Do you think I want to be like you? I will never make a fool of myself the way you do, falling in love with that ugly nurse!’

  Stefan froze. ‘What are you talking about?’

  A slow smile of satisfaction spread across Felix’s face. ‘Oh, I see I have touched a nerve,’ he smirked. ‘Did you think it was a secret, Oberleutnant? Did you think no one would be able to see you had feelings for her?’ His tone was almost pitying. ‘I see it very clearly. And I am sure she does, too. But perhaps you would make a good pair,’ he mused. ‘You, a cripple, and her, so scarred and hideous . . .’

  ‘I may be crippled, but at least I can still satisfy a woman!’ Stefan lashed out.

  Felix paled, his mouth a tight, angry line. They all knew about the gunshot injury to his groin, but none of them ever talked about it in front of him.

  It was a cruel, unworthy blow, but Stefan didn’t care.

  Felix retreated into wounded silence and was mercifully quiet for the rest of the evening. But he had already lit a fire, and his words burned away steadily in Stefan’s mind.

  He had given too much of himself away. If a dolt like Felix could see it, then who else could see what a fool he had made of himself?

  He lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, longing for sleep but knowing it would never come.

  How had it come to this? He had never intended for any of it to happen. Ever since their mother died and their father abandoned them in the orphanage so he could go off and marry again, Stefan had gone through all his life keeping the rest of the world at arm’s-length. He hid behind a mask of indifference, never allowing anyone the power to hurt him. It was how he had survived growing up, how he had made a life for himself and Emil, and it was how he meant to get through the war.

  He could never have imagined in his worst nightmares that he would ever allow someone like Kitty to penetrate his defences. And yet somehow it had happened. And now he felt more exposed and vulnerable than he ever had in his life, even when he was lying wounded on the ground at the point of a British soldier’s gun, convinced he was going to die.

  Did she know? he wondered. Stefan rubbed the clammy sweat from his brow. Perhaps she knew, and she pitied him.

  He would far rather be hated than pitied, he thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It was a freezing cold Christmas Eve, and Dora arrived on the ward just before seven in the morning to find the place in darkness and the patients shivering in their beds while the night nurse struggled to set the fire in the cold grate.

  ‘It’s not my fault!’ She jumped guiltily to her feet when she saw Dora, rolling down her sleeves. Dora tried not to notice the ash she brushed on to her starched cuffs. ‘A V-2 came down on the other side of Victoria Park last night, so Sister sent me down to Casualty to help out, and then I came back and it had gone out—’ Her breath curled in the icy air. ‘I did my best,’ she finished lamely.

  ‘Let me have a go.’ Dora unfastened her cuffs and put them in her pocket, then rolled up her sleeves. She knelt down in front of the grate. ‘There’s a knack to it.’ She took the long twist of newspaper from the nurse’s frozen fingers. ‘You have to coax it a bit, like this . . .’

  Finally, after several failed attempts, the fire started to kindle. ‘There.’ Dora sat back on her heels. ‘That should do it. I don’t suppose there’s any extra coal in the bucket?’

  The nurse shook her head. ‘There’s not much more than dust, and Mr Hopkins said we’re lucky to get that.’

  ‘Mr Hopkins could give Ebeneezer Scrooge a run for his money.’ Dora stood up and brushed down her uniform. ‘Well, that should keep us going for a while, at least.’ She looked around the ward. ‘Have the patients had their morning tea?’

  ‘Not yet, Staff.’ The night nurse looked close to tears, her face smudged with coal dust. ‘I’m all behind this morning.’

  ‘Never mind, I’ll give you a hand.’ Dora refastened her cuffs. ‘A nice hot drink might help warm them up. With any luck, they won’t notice the fire.’

  The men might not have noticed, but Major Von Mundel did. He arrived that morning with the new guard shift, striding on to the ward as if he owned the place as usual, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped in front of the ward fire, frowning.

  ‘Before you say anything, I’ve just got it lit again,’ Dora said, hurrying past him to deliver another cup of tea to a patient. ‘You wait and see, it’ll be as warm as toast in a minute.’

  Ignoring his sceptical look, she swept off back to the kitchen to fetch some more tea. Kitty and Miss Sloan arrived and immediately began helping her.

  ‘I see the Major is in one of his moods this morning,’ Miss Sloan observed as she set teacups on a tray.

  Dora smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Miss S. I’ve got a surprise for him later that should put a smile on his face.’

  Miss Sloan’s brows rose. ‘Oh yes? What’s that?’

  ‘I put it in here this morning.’ Dora went to the kitchen cupboard and opened it to show them.

  ‘Chocolate!’ Miss Sloan gave a cry of pleasure while Kitty just gawped.

  ‘And there’s a bottle of whisky, too. Real whisky,’ she added, seeing the look of dismay on Kitty’s face.

  ‘But where did you get it, my dear?’ Miss Sloan wanted to know.

  ‘Bea’s boyfriend,’ Kitty answered for her.

  ‘That’s right,’ Dora said. ‘Bea’s always bringing stuff home, so
I’ve just been saving my share up. I thought it’d be a nice treat for everyone.’ She grinned. ‘Sometimes it’s handy, having a GI in the family.’

  ‘It’s a very nice thought, my dear. Best not tell Sister, though,’ Miss Sloan said, shooting a wary glance towards the kitchen door.

  ‘It’s all right, she’s not on duty until one,’ Dora said.

  ‘Just as well,’ Kitty said. ‘She’d have a fit.’

  ‘Then it’ll have to be our secret. Now come on, let’s finish serving the tea, then after breakfast we’ll hand out the chocolate.’

  It was a shame, Dora thought. The Helen she’d once known would have delighted in such a nice surprise. The ward sisters usually bought gifts to cheer up the patients at Christmas, and Helen’s were always very thoughtful.

  But the Helen she had once known seemed to have gone forever. Her experiences abroad had hardened her, turned her into a person Dora barely recognised, and certainly didn’t like.

  The men’s faces were a picture when she and the other nurses handed out pieces of chocolate and a nip of whisky to each man. Dora saw amazement, disbelief and then finally joy as they realised that their gifts were real. They toasted Dora, the nurses and each other with the whisky, and soon there was quite a party atmosphere as they chatted and laughed amongst themselves.

  Major Von Mundel stood in the middle of the ward, his glass of whisky untouched in his hand, surveying it all through narrowed eyes. His expression was unreadable.

  ‘Look at him,’ Kitty whispered. ‘You’d think he’d crack a smile at Christmas, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, isn’t it?’ Miss Sloan said. ‘He’s quite inscrutable.’

  ‘Miserable, I’d call it!’

  Dora approached him. ‘What’s wrong, Major?’ she asked. ‘Don’t you approve?’

  ‘It is not that. I am just – surprised, I think.’ He turned to look at her. ‘This kindness is unexpected.’

  For a second their eyes met. Dora looked away sharply. ‘Yes, well, you’ve got to do something special at Christmas, ain’t you? I’m sorry it’s a day early, but I ain’t going to be on duty on Christmas Day, so—’

  ‘Nein, this is correct. In Germany it is traditional to give gifts on Christmas Eve.’

  ‘Fancy that. I reckon my kids would like that. They’re always too excited to wait until Christmas Day.’

  He regarded her with those unreadable blue eyes. ‘You have children, Nurse Riley?’

  She nodded. ‘Twins – a boy and a girl.’

  ‘Twins?’ His brows rose. ‘And how old are they?’

  ‘They turned seven this summer.’

  He looked away, his gaze raking the line of beds. ‘It will be nice for you to spend Christmas with your family, I think.’

  Dora lifted her chin. ‘Yes, but we’re not a proper family until their dad comes home.’

  ‘Nein,’ Major Von Mundel said heavily. ‘I understand.’ He paused for a moment, then said, ‘I also have two children, a boy and a girl.’

  Dora looked at him sharply. ‘I didn’t know . . . I never thought—’

  ‘You didn’t think I had a family?’ His mouth curved in a mirthless smile. ‘Like you, we all have loved ones, Nurse Riley.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ She stared down into the amber depths of her glass. Of course she knew that. The men were always showing her photographs of their sweethearts, their mothers, their wives and children. But Major Von Mundel was different. He never talked about his family, so she had assumed he didn’t have one.

  Looking at him, standing there so proud and tall in his grey prison uniform, it was hard to imagine he had a life outside the war at all.

  ‘How old are your children?’ she asked.

  ‘Adel is twelve, and Gerte is eight.’

  ‘How long is it since you’ve seen them?’

  His lips tightened. ‘My daughter was three years old when I left.’

  Dora saw the emotion he was doing his best to conceal, and her heart went out to him. At least Nick had managed to spend a few days with Walter and Winnie last Christmas.

  Without Helen’s lowering presence, there were high spirits on the ward for the rest of the morning. The men laughed and joked, played cards and wrote letters home. Then someone started up a rousing chorus of a German song. Miss Sloan clapped along, but Dora was glad she didn’t understand the words, because she was sure it wasn’t suitable for a genteel music teacher’s ears.

  ‘You should save your voices for the carol singing later,’ she said, over the din.

  ‘Carol singing?’ Major Von Mundel queried.

  ‘The nurses go round all the wards singing Christmas carols and everyone joins in,’ Dora explained. Then a thought struck her, and she said, ‘Do you have Christmas carols in Germany?’

  Major Von Mundel’s chin lifted and he stared down his long nose at her in the way he always did when she had said something absurd. ‘Of course we have Christmas carols!’

  ‘Some of the most beautiful songs come from Germany and Austria,’ Miss Sloan put in. Then she started to sing in her high, warbling voice, ‘Stille nacht, Heilige nacht . . .’

  ‘“Silent Night”,’ Dora said. ‘That’s one of my favourites.’

  ‘It’s even more beautiful in German,’ Miss Sloan said. ‘Isn’t that right, Major?’

  ‘It is very beautiful,’ Von Mundel agreed. Dora glanced at him. His face was expressionless, but she had heard the emotion that clogged his voice.

  ‘Wait until we come round this evening,’ she said. ‘The nurses all turn their cloaks inside out so the red lining is showing, and we carry candles in jars to light our way. It’s lovely, it really is.’

  ‘It sounds most – charming,’ Major Von Mundel said stiffly. ‘I shall look forward to it, Nurse Riley.’

  The fun and games soon stopped when Helen came on duty after lunch. She prowled the ward with a sour, forbidding expression, running her finger over bedframes and locker tops, speaking only to point out a water jug that hadn’t been refilled, or a sheet not turned down the correct fourteen inches.

  The men sat up in their beds, watching her with fearful eyes. They hadn’t forgotten her wild temper over the Christmas decorations.

  Helen hadn’t forgotten it either. She never looked at Dora, and barely spoke to her except to bark an order at her.

  Thankfully, in the middle of the afternoon Clare arrived to summon Helen to an emergency on the military ward. Dora was shocked at how relieved she felt when her friend had gone. The men seemed to feel it too, although they kept shooting wary looks at the door, waiting tensely for her to come back.

  But she still hadn’t returned by the time the evening meal was served. Afterwards, Kitty and Dora went to join the other nurses for the carol singing. Miss Sloan remained on the ward with Major Von Mundel.

  ‘Have a wonderful time, won’t you?’ she said. ‘We’re looking forward to hearing you when you come to visit us.’

  The other nurses were gathered around the foot of the staircase in the main hospital entrance, a sea of scarlet cloaks.

  ‘There you are,’ Clare said. ‘We were going to start without you.’

  I bet you were, Dora thought. She glanced at Helen, her face like stone. ‘Well, we’re here now.’ She lit her candle and placed it carefully in the jar one of the nurses had given her.

  Helen cleared her throat. ‘We’ll start on the top floor, with the medical wards,’ she announced. ‘Then we’ll visit the surgical wards, and the Casualty department, and finish with the three military wards—’

  ‘Three?’ Dora said. ‘Don’t you mean four?’

  The other nurses exchanged wary looks. A couple of them started to shuffle their feet. Dora suddenly knew what was coming, even before Helen spoke up and said, ‘We’ve been discussing it and we’ve decided not to include the POWs’ ward.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Once again, they all exchanged looks. ‘It doesn’t seem right,’ one of t
he other nurses said quietly.

  ‘My boyfriend is away in France, and I don’t want to be singing to Germans,’ another piped up.

  Dora turned on her. ‘My husband is away in France, too,’ she said, staring hard until the other girl looked away.

  She let her gaze travel from one to the other, searching their faces. ‘Honestly, I thought better of you all,’ she said. ‘We’re supposed to be helping people, ain’t we?’

  ‘Only our own kind,’ Clare muttered.

  Dora shot her a filthy look. ‘These men ain’t monsters. They’re just boys, no more than children some of them. They’re a long way from home, missing their families just like everyone else in this rotten war!’

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence. ‘She’s got a point,’ one of the nurses started to say, but Clare silenced her.

  ‘We all agreed,’ she said. ‘Anyway, it’s decided now.’

  ‘In that case, you can count me out.’ Dora blew out the candle and set her jar down.

  ‘And me,’ Kitty said.

  ‘Don’t be like that—’

  ‘I mean it. If my patients can’t enjoy the carols, then neither will I.’

  The other nurses all looked to Helen, who glared at Dora. ‘I’m sorry you won’t be joining us,’ she said quietly.

  The men all looked up expectantly when Dora walked back in to the ward, Kitty trailing behind her.

  Miss Sloan came forward to greet them, her smile fading. ‘Where is everyone, Nurse Riley?’ she asked, looking behind them towards the doors. ‘Are they on their way?’

  ‘They are not coming,’ Major Von Mundel said behind her. ‘They do not want to entertain Germans. That is correct, is it not, Nurse Riley?’

  Dora couldn’t look at him. She shook her head, too upset to speak.

  Major Von Mundel gave a resigned sigh. ‘It is as I thought,’ he said. ‘When you first talked of the idea I had my doubts that it would happen.’