A Nightingale Christmas Carol

by Donna Douglas

  A sound outside startled him from his reverie. He looked up to see a flash of movement through the half-open door, followed by the sound of footsteps hurrying away.

  Nurse Riley sat bolt upright. ‘What was that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps the night nurse . . .’ Von Mundel went to the door and looked out. There was no sign of anyone in the empty ward. The night nurse had not yet come on duty.

  By the time he turned back, Nurse Riley had recovered herself.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, brushing down her apron so he couldn’t see her blushing face. ‘What must you think of me?’

  He gazed at her for a moment. ‘I think you are a courageous woman, Nurse Riley.’

  Her blush deepened. ‘I don’t feel very courageous at the moment,’ she confessed, staring at the ground.

  ‘Nevertheless, I know you will be strong for your children and for your husband.’

  Nurse Riley allowed herself to look up at him, and he saw her shoulders straightening as she mentally rallied herself.

  ‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘Yes, I will. Thank you, Major.’

  She left, and it was only then Von Mundel realised the toys were still lying on the desk, untouched and forgotten.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‘Guess who I saw last night, canoodling with a German?’

  Kitty paused, her powder puff halfway to her face.

  ‘What’s this?’ Her father lowered his newspaper, frowning over the top of it. ‘I hope it wasn’t you, Kitty?’

  ‘As if our Kitty would do such a thing!’ her mother answered for her over the busy click of her knitting needles. ‘Besides, she’s already got a nice boyfriend, haven’t you, love?’

  Kitty stared at her reflection in the cracked glass of her compact. A pair of guilty eyes looked back at her.

  ‘Do you want to know who it is, or don’t you?’ Arthur demanded impatiently. ‘All right then, I’ll tell you,’ he went on without waiting for an answer. ‘It was that Nurse Riley.’

  Kitty stared at him. ‘What are you talking about?’ she said. ‘That’s nonsense.’

  ‘I saw her,’ Arthur insisted. ‘Mr Hopkins sent me up to the ward to collect the soiled dressings, and as I was going past Sister’s office I saw her and that German officer – you know, the one who’s always throwing his weight around, looking down his nose at everyone?’

  ‘Major Von Mundel?’

  ‘That’s the one. They were kissing!’

  Kitty shook her head. ‘You’re making it up!’

  ‘All right, they might not have been kissing,’ Arthur conceded. ‘But he had his arms round her, and they looked very friendly. There’s definitely something going on there,’ he said.

  Kitty went back to powdering her face. ‘I still don’t believe it,’ she said flatly.

  ‘I’m just telling you what I saw, that’s all.’

  ‘Nurse Riley wouldn’t do something like that. She’s a respectable married woman. And you’d better not go spreading rumours like that, Arthur Jenkins,’ she warned him.

  ‘I know what I saw,’ Arthur insisted stubbornly.

  ‘And there’s plenty of so-called respectable married women that do carry on while their husbands are away,’ her mother put in.

  ‘Carrying on is one thing,’ her father declared. ‘But carrying on with a German . . .’ His mouth curled. ‘Any woman who would do that is nothing better than a prostitute and a traitor to her country.’

  ‘Horace, please!’ Florrie Jenkins protested mildly. ‘Don’t use language like that in this house.’

  ‘I’m only speaking the truth,’ her husband said, clamping his pipe between his lips as he went back to reading his newspaper.

  Kitty studied her face in the mirror of her compact as she pressed powder into her temple. She felt sure her guilt was written there for everyone to see, as clearly as the scarred flesh she was doing her best to cover.

  Not that she had done anything wrong. She had barely spoken to Stefan since Christmas Day. But whenever she was near him, Kitty could feel the attraction crackling between them, so hot and fierce she was astonished no one else had noticed it.

  Even now, thinking about him brought a warm flush to her cheeks that her powder did nothing to disguise.

  She closed her compact with a snap, shutting off the thought. It did her no good to allow herself to think about him. Stefan had no interest in her, he’d made that very clear, and even if he did, it was foolish to imagine they might have any future together.

  She glanced at her father puffing on his pipe and harrumphing at something he’d read in the newspaper, the balding top of his head just visible above its pages. Imagine if she introduced Stefan to him! He would turn her out of the house in a minute.

  She shuddered at the thought.

  ‘You look nice, dear. Are you going out with Mal tonight?’ Her mother’s voice interrupted her reverie.

  ‘Yes.’ Kitty delved her lipstick tube with the end of her finger to get the last remaining corner of colour, and dabbed it on her lips. ‘He’s taking me to the West End for dinner.’

  ‘Up West, eh? That sounds fancy. Is it a special occasion?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Kitty shrugged. ‘I think he just felt like splashing out, that’s all. I told him I didn’t want anything too posh, but he insisted.’

  ‘Did he, now?’ Her mother sent her an inscrutable look.

  ‘He’s a nice chap,’ her father put in. He lowered his newspaper and pointed the end of his pipe in her direction. ‘You want to keep hold of him, Kitty.’

  Kitty looked away on the pretence of putting on her shoes. The truth was, this was going to be her last night out with Mal.

  Her father was right, he was a nice chap. But she wasn’t in love with him, and it wasn’t fair to keep stringing him along, especially when she knew she had feelings for someone else. Even if she had no future with Stefan, she didn’t feel as if she could make a future with Mal, either.

  She knew it was going to be difficult to tell him, even worse as Mal was splashing out on a posh dinner. She’d begged him to change their plans for dinner, but typical Mal, he hadn’t listened.

  ‘I want to make it special for you,’ he’d insisted, adding to her guilt.

  As they travelled up West on the Tube later, Kitty reflected on her decision. How could she possibly end their romance when he’d gone to so much trouble for her? Bea would say she had lost her marbles. Mal obviously loved her, and she was a fool not to appreciate him.

  She glanced sideways at him, sitting beside her, his hand resting in hers. Her mother was right, he was a good man. Most girls would be only too happy to be courting someone like him.

  You’re going to end up an old maid, Kitty Jenkins, she thought. But even that didn’t seem as bad as spending the rest of her life with the wrong man.

  Mal had booked a table at a swanky restaurant just off Piccadilly. It looked like a palace, with crystal chandeliers, gilt chairs and snowy white linen. As they made their way to the table, Kitty felt out of place among all the fur coats and posh accents.

  ‘I don’t know why we had to come here,’ she whispered. ‘I would have been just as happy at the Lyons Corner House.’

  ‘Only the best for my girl,’ Mal said.

  Kitty cringed. Why did he have to be so nice to her, tonight of all nights? It was almost as if he knew what was coming, and he wanted to make her feel as bad as possible.

  But there was no sign of any malice in his honest, open face as he smiled at her across the table over their meal. He was so pleased with himself for bringing her here, Kitty thought, her heart contracting with pity. She couldn’t possibly end it now, not like this, after he’d gone to so much trouble for her. Surely one more night wouldn’t hurt? She could tell him tomorrow, or the next day. Tonight would be too cruel . . .

  And then she saw him reach into his pocket and draw out a small, leather-covered box.

  ‘Kitty . . .’ he started to say, reaching for her h
and. Panic flooded through her. She wanted to run, but her legs had turned to jelly.

  ‘No.’ Her mouth formed the word, but no sound came out. Mal wasn’t listening anyway. He had shifted out of his seat and was down on one knee.

  ‘I love you, Kitty Jenkins,’ he said, his gaze fixed on hers. ‘Will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?’

  Everyone was staring at them, all heads turned in their direction. Kitty suddenly felt hot and dizzy. She stared down at her hand, still trapped in his.

  The moment went on and on, as if they had all been frozen in time.

  ‘Say something, for Gawd’s sake!’ Mal laughed uneasily. ‘I’m getting cramp down here!’

  Kitty looked at him, his smile fixed as he gazed at her. She had a sudden vision of her life unrolling, her mother smiling and excited as she helped her plan the wedding, her father proudly walking her down the aisle, their misery over Raymond forgotten at last.

  Just say yes, a small voice inside her head said. Just say yes and you’ll make everyone happy.

  Except herself.

  ‘Kitty?’ She saw the realisation dawning in Mal’s eyes before she opened her mouth to speak.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

  Still no one moved. Murmurs started to ripple around the room as word spread of what had happened. Someone laughed out loud. All the while, Mal stayed where he was, on one knee, one handing holding hers, the other holding the engagement ring, as still as a statue.

  ‘You can stay there as long as you like, old chap. She still isn’t going to say yes!’ a toffee-nosed voice called out from the back of the room. Kitty felt Mal’s humiliation as keenly if it were her own.

  The only way she could spare him was to leave. She slipped her hand from his lifeless grasp and reached for her bag. ‘I – I’ll make my own way home,’ she murmured.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It was a cold, rainy night. The dim light from the street lamps was reflected on the wet streets as Kitty turned up the collar of her coat and hurried down Piccadilly towards the underground station, desperate to put as much distance as she could between her and what had just happened.

  Poor Mal. She couldn’t forget the picture of him kneeling there, holding up that engagement ring, his expression turning from hopeful to bewildered and forlorn as everyone looked on. She wondered if she should have stayed, but she would only have prolonged his humiliation, and her own.

  She remembered her mother’s inscrutable look and wondered if she’d guessed what was to come. Kitty wished she had warned her. Then perhaps she could have saved them all some embarrassment.

  Now her mother was probably waiting for her at home, expecting to hear her happy news, to see her daughter’s sparkling new engagement ring and share her excitement. No doubt she had already started to make plans for the wedding, Kitty thought.

  Her heart sank. That was two people she had upset and disappointed. How could she be so selfish?

  She was halfway up Piccadilly, just level with the Ritz Hotel, when Mal caught up with her. She heard his footsteps behind her, but before she could turn to face him he’d grabbed her arm, spinning her round.

  ‘What was that all about?’ he demanded. His blazing, angry face terrified her. ‘How dare you humiliate me like that? Making me look a fool in front of all those people!’

  ‘I didn’t know you were going to propose, did I?’

  ‘Why the hell did you think I’d brought you all the way here? I told you I wanted to make it special.’

  Kitty looked down at his hands, gripping her arms. ‘What was I supposed to do?’

  ‘You were supposed to say yes!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry isn’t good enough. I deserve an explanation, at least.’ He thrust his face close to hers, his fingers biting into her flesh through her coat. ‘Why don’t you want to marry me? Is there someone else, is that it?’

  ‘Let me go, you’re hurting me—’

  ‘Not until you give me a reason!’

  She forced herself to look at him. ‘I don’t love you,’ she said.

  He flinched as if she’d struck him. ‘But all this time we’ve been together . . . I thought you liked me—’

  ‘I do like you,’ she said. ‘But that’s not enough, is it? You deserve more than I can give you . . .’

  His chin lifted. ‘You’re right about that. I could do a lot better than you!’

  She saw the defiant anger in his eyes. He was lashing out, trying to hurt her. The least Kitty could do was allow him his pride.

  ‘Then I hope you find someone,’ she said quietly.

  She disentangled herself from his grip and started to walk away.

  ‘You won’t find anyone else, you know,’ Mal called after her. Kitty ignored him and went on walking. ‘Not with that big ugly scar of yours!’

  She stopped in her tracks, her hand going up automatically to her temple.

  ‘You can cover it up, but you can’t hide it,’ Mal’s sneering voice came from behind her. ‘Everyone knows how ugly you are. Do you really think anyone else would ever want you? Even your first fiancé couldn’t stand the sight of you. I only went on with you in the first place because I felt sorry for you,’ he went on, jeering softly. ‘And I thought you’d be easy. I mean, it’s not like you’d get a lot of offers looking like that, is it?’

  He doesn’t mean it, he’s just trying to hurt you, Kitty told herself. But his words went straight to her heart.

  ‘I reckon you’ve done me a favour,’ Mal called after her. ‘I could get someone prettier than you, Kitty Jenkins. Someone who doesn’t make me feel sick to look at her!’

  Swallowing down her pain and humiliation, she called back, ‘You’d better start looking then, hadn’t you?’

  She started to walk away again, but she heard his footsteps pounding on the wet street behind her.

  ‘You don’t walk away from me! Not until I say so!’

  He grabbed a handful of hair, yanking her backwards. She screamed with pain. ‘Let me go!’

  ‘No chance. I’ve spent a lot of money on you, and I want my money’s worth!’ He pulled her into a narrow alleyway until the darkness swallowed them both. Kitty’s heart hammered against her ribs, fighting to escape from her chest. She fought against him, clawing and scratching, but he was too strong for her. He pinned her against the wall, his hands going inside her coat, roaming roughly over her body.

  ‘At least I don’t have to wait for the wedding night, since there isn’t going to be one!’ Mal’s voice was harsh, his breath hot against her ear. The next moment his mouth was on her neck, devouring her. At the same time, he ripped at the front of her dress, popping the buttons.

  At the mouth of the alleyway people walked by, going about their business and enjoying their evening. Kitty could hear their voices just a few yards away. Surely they could see her? But then she realised that if they looked at all, all they would see was a young soldier and his sweetheart enjoying a kiss and cuddle.

  But it was more than that. This was like a fight to the death. She barely recognised Mal any more. He was like a savage, mouth and tongue and teeth and hands tearing at her, invading her, careless of anything but getting what he wanted. Kitty tried to scream but his hand clamped over her mouth, pushing her back with such force her head banged against the brickwork. For a moment her vision clouded and the world shimmered in front of her. She felt her knees buckle as Mal started to push her to the ground.

  Then she heard a sound from the end of the alley. Lost in all the hubbub of busy Piccadilly at night, she somehow managed to pick out a voice she knew.

  Her sense of self-preservation reasserted itself. She managed to twist her arm free, clawing with her nails down the side of his face. Mal released his grip over her mouth for a second, just long enough for her to turn her head away and scream out with every bit of strength she had left.

  ‘Bea! Help!’

  For a moment nothing happened. Mal had her pinned to the g
round but he tensed, waiting like a cat poised to spring away at the first sign of danger.

  Then, suddenly, two figures appeared silhouetted in the mouth of the alleyway, and she heard Bea’s voice calling out tentatively, ‘Kitty? Is that you?’

  Mal was on his feet in a second, straightening his clothes. Kitty lay sprawled at his feet, too weak and afraid to move.

  ‘Tidy yourself up!’ she heard Mal hiss. She tried to pull her dress down as Bea’s footsteps echoed down the alleyway, with Hank following closely behind.

  ‘Evening,’ Mal greeted them, his voice falsely bright. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

  But Bea didn’t look at him. Her gaze was fixed on Kitty.

  ‘Would someone mind telling me what’s going on?’ she said.

  Most of the family were in bed by the time they got to Bea’s house, so there wasn’t a crowd of people to witness Kitty’s humiliation. Only Dora Riley and her mother were still up, waiting for Bea to come home.

  Thankfully, neither of them asked too many questions. Dora silently set about cleaning the graze on the back of Kitty’s head, while Rose Doyle sat at the other end of the kitchen table, sewing the buttons back on Kitty’s dress.

  ‘You should go to the police,’ she said to Kitty. ‘The lad ought to be reported for what he did.’

  But Kitty was adamant. ‘I don’t want to make a fuss,’ she said. ‘It would only upset Mum and Dad if they knew, and they’ve been through enough already. You won’t tell Mum, will you?’ she pleaded.

  ‘Bless you, love, of course I won’t. We know how to keep a secret, don’t we, Dora?’

  Dora said nothing. Kitty couldn’t see her face as she stood behind her, dabbing gentian violet on her grazed scalp.

  She suddenly remembered what Arthur had said about Nurse Riley and Major Von Mundel. Was Dora keeping a secret of her own?

  ‘I dread to think what would have happened if Hank and I hadn’t been passing,’ Bea said.

  ‘Don’t,’ Kitty shuddered, pulling Bea’s old dressing gown tighter around her. The same thought kept running through her head, all the way home. It had seemed nothing short of a miracle when she had heard her friend’s familiar voice.