‘Sorry.’ Helen was still for a few seconds, then shifted from foot to foot again. ‘I wish I had something new to wear. This dress is so old I’m surprised it’s not falling apart!’
‘Don’t you worry, I’ll soon have it looking as good as new.’ Dora smiled up at her friend, towering over her as she knelt on the floor. They were in Helen’s room at the nurses’ home, and she was trying to get her friend ready to go and meet David again for the first time in two years.
She didn’t think she had ever seen her friend so nervous. In the usual way of things, very little ruffled Helen Dawson.
‘Thank you for helping me,’ she said. ‘I tried to do it myself, but my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t hold the needle.’
‘There, that’s done.’ Dora stuck in the last pin. ‘Now take it off and I’ll stitch it for you.’
Helen glanced at the clock. ‘Will you have time? I should be at the station in half an hour.’
‘Well, you can’t go and meet David with pins in your frock, can you? I’ll be quick, I promise. I was the fastest hand-stitcher at Gold’s Garments before I trained as a nurse.’
Helen slipped off her dress and stood shivering in her thin slip. She had lost weight, Dora thought. Her long, pale limbs were as slender as a child’s.
‘Have you eaten today?’ Helen shook her head. ‘You should have something, you know. You’ll feel faint otherwise.’
‘I couldn’t eat, I’m too nervous.’ Helen went to the mirror above the chest of drawers and frowned at her reflection. ‘Does my hair look all right? Should I have pinned it up, or would it be better down, do you think?’
Dora sighed. ‘You look smashing, Helen. Besides, I’m sure David won’t mind what you look like. You could turn up wearing a sack and he’d still be thrilled to see you.’
Helen smiled ruefully. ‘You think I’m being silly, don’t you? I’m just so scared – that he might not want me any more.’
‘Of course he wants you. He loves you.’
Dora saw the shadow of doubt that crossed Helen’s face and knew exactly what she was thinking. She knew only too well what it was like to look in the mirror and see someone dirty and blighted, and to wonder how anyone could ever love her. She only hoped David could help take away some of the shame, the way Nick’s love had taken away hers.
‘I wish you could come with me,’ Helen said.
‘It’s you David’s come to see, not me.’
‘He wouldn’t mind. And I wouldn’t be nearly so nervous if you were with me. Please, Dora?’
Dora shook her head. ‘I don’t think that would be right,’ she said quietly.
The truth was, she couldn’t bear the thought of standing on that station platform with all the other wives and sweethearts, watching all those joyful reunions with their loved ones, and knowing Nick would never be with them.
Helen must have read the look on her face because she said, ‘Oh Dora, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think—’
‘It’s all right.’
‘But here I am, fussing on about my dress and my hair, and all the time you—’
‘It’s all right, honestly.’ Dora silenced her with a quick, bracing smile. ‘I’m not the only one, am I? Besides,’ she added, looking back at her sewing, ‘I’ve got somewhere else to go after this.’
She kept her attention focused on her needle, flashing in and out of the fabric, and hoped Helen wouldn’t ask any more. She didn’t think she could keep up the front for much longer.
‘It’s very kind of you to help me,’ Helen said. ‘I – know I haven’t always been very kind to you over the past year, have I?’
‘It’s all over now.’
Helen went to the window and looked out. ‘Do you remember this time last year? The way I treated you over those Christmas decorations, and the carol singing?’
Dora glanced up at her friend. Helen’s back was turned as she gazed out at the grey, snowy landscape. ‘You were upset,’ she said.
‘I was monstrous.’ She hugged herself tighter. ‘Sometimes when I look back at it, I can hardly believe it was me . . .’
Neither can I, Dora thought. ‘As I said, it’s all in the past now.’
Helen paused, then said, ‘Do you know what happened to Major Von Mundel?’
‘The last I heard, he was being transferred to another camp on the south coast.’
‘I thought you might have stayed in touch with him?’
Dora shook her head. They had never written to each other, and that was probably for the best, she thought. They had travelled along the same path for a while, and he would always stay in her heart as a treasured friend, but now it was right that they should continue their journeys alone.
She only hoped that his journey would take him home. He deserved to be reunited with his family.
‘There, it’s finished.’ Dora held up the dress. ‘Now hurry up and get it on. You don’t want to keep David waiting, do you?’
Helen slipped into the dress and looked at herself in the mirror. ‘Are you sure I look all right?’ she said anxiously.
‘You look beautiful,’ Dora said, and meant it. With her tall, slender figure and dramatic dark colouring, Helen could never look anything else.
‘What if he thinks I’ve changed?’ Panic rose in Helen’s voice. ‘What if he’s changed?’
‘You won’t know that until you see him, will you?’
‘Yes, but what will I say to him?’
‘I’m sure you’ll think of something. Now hurry up, or you’ll be late.’
Helen started to put on her coat, then stopped. ‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how to be . . .’ She looked stricken.
‘Just be the girl he fell in love with,’ Dora said. She helped Helen into her coat and reached up to arrange her friend’s hat. She could feel the rapid rise and fall of Helen’s chest, her breath coming in short, panicky gasps. For a moment she wondered if she should go with her to the station, just to make sure she was all right.
But she couldn’t. Even she couldn’t keep up a brave face for that long.
‘Good luck,’ she whispered, squeezing her hand. ‘You’ll be fine, honestly.’
*
Just be the girl he fell in love with.
That was easier said than done, Helen thought as she stood on the crowded platform, waiting for the train to come in. The sky was the colour of wet cement, heavy with the promise of more snow. Underneath her feet, the snow had been churned to a dark, icy slush. It was all she could do to hold herself upright as bodies pressed on her from all sides.
The air tingled with happy excitement. In a few minutes the train would come in, bringing husbands and fathers and brothers and lovers home.
And David.
Helen shivered inside her coat. What would he think of her? Would he look at her and see the girl he used to know? Or would he see the scarred, damaged woman she had become?
Beside her, a woman fussed with her children, buttoning up their coats and smoothing down their hair. Her face was flushed with excitement.
‘Won’t be long now,’ she said. ‘Then you’ll see Daddy again.’
Helen’s head began to swim. In spite of the icy weather, she felt hot inside her coat. She wished she’d taken Dora’s advice and eaten before she came out, but her stomach had been too tightly knotted.
If only Dora had come with her. But Helen knew it would have been selfish of her to press it. The poor girl was finding it hard enough to cope.
She would have asked Clare, but they hadn’t spoken much since she’d been posted to a military convalescent home in Hampshire three months earlier. It was Clare who had withdrawn from their friendship. Helen had tried to tell her that she didn’t bear a grudge over her writing to David, but she sensed Clare was embarrassed about her behaviour, and the lies she had told. At any rate, Helen hoped her friend could find some happiness, wherever she was.
The train was coming in. People began to surge forward. Helen tried to stand her ground,
but the press of the crowd carried her forward. She felt the rush of blood to her head and knew she should sit down, but she couldn’t fight her way back through the tide of bodies.
Panic closed her throat and her vision started to blur. She couldn’t breathe past the tight band around her chest. She tried to turn back but she lost her footing on the slippery ground and her legs went from under her. As she sank to the ground, her last thought was that she would be trampled underfoot.
Then, by some miracle, hands came down, hauling her to her feet.
‘Let her through, she’s fainted,’ someone called out.
The crowd parted and Helen felt herself being half carried, half propelled towards a bench.
‘She looks pale. Someone fetch her a glass of water!’
‘Has anyone got any smelling salts?’
‘I’m quite all right, really. I just need to sit down for a minute—’ Helen tried to say, but her breath was coming so fast the words wouldn’t come out.
And then she was vaguely aware of the crowd parting again, and a voice calling out, ‘Let me through, please. I’m a doctor.’
The next thing she saw was David’s bespectacled face looking down at her, wearing a look of frank astonishment.
‘Helen?’
She gave him a wobbly smile. ‘Hello, David.’
At least she didn’t have to worry about what to say to him, or how to greet him. Whatever ice there might have been between them was already well and truly broken.
They laughed about it afterwards, as David bought her a reviving cup of tea in the station tea shop.
‘Heaven knows what everyone must have thought when you kissed me!’ Helen said.
‘They probably assumed it was some unorthodox new medical method I’d picked up in France,’ David said. ‘Not that I’d ever like to try it on a sergeant major,’ he added. His face was straight, but there was a glint of amusement in his brown eyes.
He hadn’t changed, Helen thought with relief. He was still the same darling, lovable David she’d always known.
And to her surprise, she felt like the same girl, too. For the first time since the war started, she began to remember what it was like to be young and in love.
‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked, full of gentle concern. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Much better, thank you,’ she said.
He reached across the table, clasping her hands in his. ‘I’m glad you came to meet me.’
‘I nearly didn’t,’ she admitted, looking down at their entwined fingers. ‘Dora made me.’
‘And when Nurse Riley tells you to do something, you don’t say no, do you?’ He grinned. Then he seemed to remember something and asked, ‘Is Dora here? Did she come with you?’
‘No, why?’
He paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then he shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. I expect she’ll find out soon enough.’
His smile intrigued her. ‘Find out what?’ she asked.
‘Nothing. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.’ He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. ‘Oh, Helen. I’ve missed you so much.’
Helen withdrew her hands from his slowly. ‘David—’
‘Don’t,’ he begged. ‘Don’t spoil the moment, please?’
‘But we need to talk—’
‘I know. And we will, I promise.’ His gaze held hers, full of understanding. ‘I want to hear everything, Helen. But not now. There’s plenty of time for talking, isn’t there? I mean, we’ve got all the time in the world. Haven’t we?’
Helen smiled at their hands, linked together. He was right, she thought. They had all the time in the world.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Griffin Street was coated in a thick blanket of untouched snow. The twins loved it, tumbling about, pushing each other over and throwing snowballs. The still air rang with their laughter.
‘Be careful,’ Dora warned as she trudged after them, her feet sinking into the deep whiteness. ‘Watch where you’re treading, the ground’s a bit uneven under all this snow.’
‘Are we going to see Mrs Price?’ Walter asked.
Dora shook her head. ‘Mrs Price is gone, love,’ she said quietly.
It was such a shame. Once the feisty old lady had kept her promise to hang out the flags on VE day, she seemed to run out of steam. When winter arrived, she succumbed once again to the flu, but this time she didn’t survive it.
She had died two days earlier in the hospital, with Dora at her bedside.
‘What about Timmy?’ Winnie wanted to know.
‘That’s why we’ve come, to fetch him.’ Dora held up the basket she’d brought with her. Once again, she’d come to fulfil her promise to old Mrs Price, to take care of her precious cat.
‘Can he come back home to live with us?’ Winnie’s face shone with excitement.
‘Yes, if we can find him.’
The twins immediately set off with a fresh purpose, roaming up and down the street, calling out Timmy’s name. But he was nowhere to be found.
‘He might be hiding in the house,’ Walter said.
‘I think you might be right,’ Dora said. ‘Let’s go and look, shall we?’
They let themselves in through the back door. Inside, the house was dark, freezing and reeked of damp.
Dora and Winnie stepped into the kitchen, but Walter lingered on the back step.
‘What’s the matter?’ Dora asked.
‘Can I stay out here?’ Walter said, his voice tremulous.
‘He’s scared, ain’t you?’ his sister teased him. ‘You frightened the ghost of Mrs Price is going to get you? Wooo!’ She loomed up at her brother, her arms raised above her head.
‘Get off!’ Walter shoved her away.
‘Don’t tease your brother, Win,’ Dora said absently, still looking around. She went into the front room, where Mrs Price had slept, and searched under the bed. There was a slightly whiffy china chamber pot, but no sign of the cat.
‘He might have gone upstairs,’ Winnie suggested.
Dora peered up the darkened staircase. ‘Timmy! Come down, you daft cat!’ There was no sound.
‘Do we have to go up there?’ Walter whispered, his eyes wide and fearful.
‘I’ll go,’ Dora said. ‘You two stay down here.’
‘Come on, let’s go and build a snowman,’ Winnie said, tugging at her brother’s sleeve.
‘Don’t go too far,’ Dora called after them as they disappeared out of the back door. ‘And if you hear an air raid—’
She stopped herself. The sirens had been silent for more than six months, but Dora still woke in the night, listening for them. She wondered how long it would be before she could trust that her children wouldn’t be in danger out of her sight.
It had taken her a long time to get used to war, with its rationing and restrictions, the blackouts and the bombings. And it seemed as if it would take just as long to get used to peace, too.
She went upstairs. The top part of the house had not been used in years. Mrs Price had lived and slept in the two rooms downstairs, to keep warm, and rarely ventured upstairs. The windows were still covered with heavy blackout curtains.
The floorboards were soft with damp under her feet. Dora trod carefully, anxious not to put her foot through. As she swung her torch beam left and right, the light picked out what seemed to be ghosts looming up at her out of the darkness. It took a moment for her to realise they were only sheets thrown over the furniture to protect it.
‘Timmy?’ Her voice sounded loud in the gloom. She waited, straining her ears to listen for the faintest mew. Perhaps the daft cat had got himself trapped somewhere . . .
And then she heard the creak of footsteps, coming up the stairs.
Dora swung round towards the sound. Her first thought was that it must be the twins. But then she heard their childish shrieks coming from outside. They sounded more distant than before. They must have defied her and wandered into the next street. From the sound they
were making, they must have found some other children to play with.
The footsteps were coming nearer. A ghost? Dora dismissed the thought. Ghosts didn’t wear boots. No, it was probably another looter, who’d heard Mrs Price was dead and come to see what they could find.
Well, I’ll give them something they’re not expecting, she thought. She switched off her torch and turned it round in her hand, ready to attack.
The figure appeared, a tall, dark shape silhouetted against the dim daylight coming from downstairs.
Then he spoke. ‘Still looking for that ruddy cat, Dora?’
Dora stared at him, the torch still raised, ready to strike. ‘Nick?’
He looked up at the weapon in her hand. ‘That’s a nice way to greet your old man, I must say. I manage to get through six years of war, only to be brained by my own wife!’
Dora stared at him. She was worried if she spoke she would wake up and he would disappear.
‘I don’t understand—’ she murmured. ‘I thought you were dead. I got a letter—’
‘As you can see, I’m alive and well.’
‘They told me you were dead. I got a letter—’
‘That’s what everyone thought. As I said, it’s a long story.’
He moved past her to the window and tried to pull the blackout curtains. The plaster crumbled and the curtain rail came down, showering them both in lumps of damp dust. But at least it allowed some weak light in through the grimy glass.
Dora stared at him. She could feel the solid warmth of his body, hear him breathing. But still she could scarcely believe it.
‘What happened to you? I heard your unit was attacked—’
He looked grim. ‘It’s a long story,’ he said. He seemed reluctant to tell it, and Dora wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it, either.
‘But you’re here now,’ she said. It was more of a question than a statement. She still couldn’t trust her eyes. She hardly dared blink in case he disappeared again.
‘I’m here now.’ He reached out his hand. Dora tentatively touched his fingers. She wanted to throw herself into his arms but she was still paralysed by shock.
Nick seemed to feel the same. Dora could see in his eyes that there was a torrent of emotion he was trying to hold back.
A Nightingale Christmas Carol Page 32