Her heart sinking, she went upstairs to the bedroom.
She had expected to find a dramatic scene waiting for her, the wardrobe doors flung open and everything gone, perhaps. But as she tentatively opened the doors of the battered mahogany cupboard, there were all Mrs Shinwell’s dresses and skirts, neatly lined up.
Dora stood in the middle of the room and looked around, her hands on her hips. It was as if the couple had simply been spirited away.
Well, at least she could go back to the Nightingale and tell Mr Shinwell that his wife hadn’t left him. But then he was bound to ask where she was. How could she tell him his missus had disappeared into thin air?
‘Where are you, Mrs Shinwell?’ She spoke the words aloud into the empty room, and immediately felt daft. What did she expect, Mrs Shinwell to come out from under the bed and say she’d been dusting?
She heard the clock downstairs chiming the hour, and realised she should be getting back to the hospital. She was due back on duty at five, and nice though Sister Blake was, she wouldn’t take kindly to one of her nurses strolling in late.
She was just about to leave when she spotted the photograph on the bedside table. It was a framed picture of the couple on their wedding day. She immediately recognised Mr Shinwell, bursting with pride in his best suit. But there was something familiar about the plump, dark-haired bride clinging to his arm, too.
Dora stared at the photograph, and remembered Millie talking about their mystery patient. Small, dark-haired, from Eastern Europe.
It couldn’t be … could it?
Chapter 13
‘So, when can I leave?’
Millie suppressed a sigh. The woman had been asking the same question every day since she had woken up.
‘You have to wait and see what the consultant says,’ she replied patiently, tucking her bedclothes in around her. ‘You had a serious operation a few days ago. These things take time.’
‘But I haven’t got time!’ the woman snapped. ‘I mean, I’m feeling perfectly well,’ she added.
‘Well, we’ll have to wait until the consultant does his rounds later.’ Millie straightened up. ‘I can’t imagine he’ll allow you to be discharged until your stitches come out, and that will be several days yet. I should think you’ll be in here for at least another fortnight.’
‘A fortnight!’ The woman looked aghast.
Millie nodded. ‘There’s a risk of infection if you try to get up and about too early. Besides, I can’t think why you’re in such a hurry to leave. We still don’t know anything about you, do we? I mean, where will you go when you’re discharged?’
‘I don’t know, do I?’ The woman scowled at her. ‘I just don’t like hospitals, that’s all.’
‘I know where you’ll go.’
They both turned. As usual, Millie hadn’t heard Sister Judd’s whispering approach until she was standing at the foot of the woman’s bed.
‘I have a wonderful surprise for you,’ she said. ‘We know who you are.’
Millie glanced at the woman. Her sallow face had turned ashen.
‘Your name is Maia Shinwell, you’re thirty-two years old and you live in Stepney Green,’ Sister Judd went on.
The woman didn’t respond. It was as if all the life had drained out of her. It must be shock, Millie decided.
‘And I have even better news,’ Sister Judd said. ‘We’ve found your husband.’
‘I – I don’t understand—’ When the woman finally found her voice, she was whispering even more quietly than Sister Judd.
‘He is in this very hospital, can you imagine that? It turns out he was injured in the same trolley bus accident as you. Now, what do you think are the chances of that?’ Sister Judd shook her head, marvelling at the coincidence. ‘It was just a fractured ankle, nothing too serious. Nothing for you to worry about. I expect we can arrange for him to come up and visit you shortly—’
‘No!’ The woman spoke so sharply, Millie and Sister Judd were both startled. ‘No, I don’t want to see him.’
‘But surely—’ ‘You don’t understand, I don’t remember him. He could be anyone. He could be a stranger, making up stories about me.’
‘Why would anyone do such a thing?’
‘I don’t know! I don’t know anything about him.’ She flung back the bedclothes and started to struggle out of bed. ‘I’ve got to go, I don’t want to stay here—’
‘Calm down, please!’ Sister Judd looked startled. ‘Get back into bed. You don’t have to meet your husband yet, not if you don’t want to.’ She turned her attention to Millie. ‘Make the patient comfortable again if you please, Nurse Benedict. I will fetch her some brandy to calm her down. I daresay this has all been rather a shock for her.’
Sister looked as if it had all been a shock for her, too, as she scuttled off down the ward. Millie helped the woman back into bed and pulled the bedclothes up around her.
‘I don’t want to see him,’ she was muttering under her breath, over and over again. ‘You can’t make me see him, you can’t. I don’t know him, I don’t remember him…’
Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling as she worked herself into a panic. Millie tried to press her back against the pillows but her body was rigid.
‘Please, you’ll make yourself ill.’
‘I don’t remember him, I don’t remember him—’
‘Mrs Shinwell!’
‘What?’ The woman looked at her sharply.
‘Try to calm down, please. Sister will be back shortly with the brandy – ah, here she comes now.’
She stepped back from the bed and watched as Sister Judd put the glass into the woman’s shaking hand. She was in a state of shock, there was no doubt about that.
But from the way she responded when Millie spoke her name, there was also no doubt in Millie’s mind that she remembered more than she was letting on.
Chapter 14
Meanwhile, over on Male Orthopaedic, Dora and Sister Blake were breaking the news to Alex Shinwell that his wife had stepped in front of the very same trolley bus that had injured him.
He was so horrified, Dora really felt for him. She was glad it was Sister Blake and not her who had to break the news. ‘Oh, my God! My poor Maia! Is she badly hurt?’
‘It could have been a lot worse,’ Sister Blake admitted frankly. ‘There are no broken bones, but she has sustained an injury to the head that has caused memory loss.’
‘Memory loss?’ Mr Shinwell frowned.
‘The consultant has every reason to believe that her loss is temporary, but at the moment she remembers nothing at all.’
‘Nothing?’ His face fell. ‘Not even me?’
‘I’m afraid not, Mr Shinwell. She can’t even remember her own name at the moment. Her life is a complete blank up to the moment she woke up in hospital.’
‘Poor Maia.’ He shook his head, taking it in. ‘That explains why she didn’t come looking for me, doesn’t it?’ He looked at Dora, his dark eyes shining with hope. ‘And I thought she’d left me.’
He seized Dora’s hands. ‘Oh Nurse, I’m so grateful to you. If you hadn’t gone round to our house as I’d asked—’
‘Ahem.’ Sister Blake interrupted him with a polite cough. ‘I think the least said about Nurse Doyle’s involvement in this matter, the better.’ She sent Dora a stern look. ‘But at least it has ended well, so that’s something.’
Dora tried to hide her smile. She knew Sister Blake was a good sport, she was unlikely to report her to Matron. And besides, if it hadn’t been for her, the mystery of the Shinwells might never have been cleared up.
‘I must go to her,’ Mr Shinwell said. ‘I need to see her.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible for a while, Mr Shinwell.’ Dora could see Sister Blake choosing her words carefully. ‘Mrs Shinwell is a little – indisposed at present.’
‘What? But you said—’
‘She’s in good health, but she’s taking a little time to adjust to her
situation,’ Sister Blake said. ‘I’m sure Sister Judd will let us know when she’s ready for visitors.’
‘If you say so.’ Dora could see Mr Shinwell was doing his best to hide his disappointment.
‘But I have some more good news for you,’ Sister Blake went on.
Mr Shinwell looked up at her. ‘More good news?’
Sister Blake glanced at Dora. ‘You have a son, Mr Shinwell.’
There was a long pause. Mr Shinwell stared blankly at Sister Blake, then at Dora. ‘But that can’t be possible—’
‘I know she wasn’t due to give birth for at least another month, but your wife went into early labour after her accident. The baby was born by emergency caesarean on Christmas Eve. A fine, healthy boy. The nurses on the Children’s ward have quite taken him to their hearts, so I understand.’ She smiled. ‘Perhaps you’d like to visit your son, Mr Shinwell?’
He didn’t react for a moment. His face was rigid, like a mask. ‘You don’t understand,’ he said. ‘It can’t be possible because my wife wasn’t pregnant.’ He looked up at them. ‘I think you must have the wrong woman.’
Chapter 15
On the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, Helen met Millie and Dora in the café on the corner, and listened in shocked fascination as they filled her in on the latest gossip on the wards.
‘Our Mr Shinwell is adamant his wife wasn’t pregnant the last time he saw her,’ Dora explained.
‘And our Mrs Shinwell is just as adamant that she was never married,’ Millie joined in.
Helen paused to smile at the waitress and she put their tea things on the table. ‘Are you sure you’ve got the right people?’
‘According to their wedding photograph,’ Dora said.
‘And if you ask me, I think Mrs Shinwell remembers more than she’s letting on,’ Millie added.
‘It’s a rum do,’ Dora said, helping herself to a biscuit from the assortment on a plate in front of them.
‘And meanwhile, there’s poor little Gabriel, the child no one seems to want,’ Millie sighed. ‘What do you think will happen to him?’
Dora shrugged. ‘I suppose if no one claims him he’ll have to be put up for adoption.’
‘Surely not?’ Millie’s pretty face crumpled in concern. ‘That’s such a shame for the poor little thing.’
‘At least he’ll have half a chance of finding parents who’ll love him.’
‘Yes, but it’s not the same as knowing your own parents, is it?’
Not according to Jennifer Ryan, Helen thought as she stirred her tea. Helen couldn’t understand why it was so important to her to find the woman who had given birth to her, when the Ryans were the ones who had brought her up and shaped her life.
Perhaps she would feel differently about it if she were in Jennifer’s shoes, Helen thought. It must be awful to grow up believing one thing, only to find suddenly that everyone has conspired to lie to you.
Helen thought about the box that still sat under the bed, untouched for two days.
‘What do you want to do with it?’ Helen had asked the day before.
‘I don’t know, do I? I haven’t had a chance to think about it,’ Jennifer had snapped back, although from her irritable manner Helen guessed she had thought about little else.
She came back to the present to find Millie chattering about her plans for that evening.
‘As soon as I come off duty at nine, I’m meeting Seb and we’re heading off to the Savoy to celebrate the New Year,’ she was telling Dora.
‘I couldn’t even think about celebrating,’ Dora stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. ‘I’m so tired, I could go to bed and sleep right through to February. How about you, Dawson?’
‘With any luck, I’ll sleep right through it too, as long as there are no last-minute emergencies in Theatre.’ Helen toyed with her teaspoon. ‘I must say, I’ll be very glad to see the back of this year,’ she sighed.
She caught the others’ sympathetic looks and felt guilty. She tried not to talk about Charlie too often, but sometimes she just couldn’t help it. Losing him was the worst pain she had ever endured, and she couldn’t imagine a time when she didn’t cry herself to sleep, or wake up in the morning missing him.
Millie reached across the table and touched her hand. ‘Next year will be better,’ she said, her pretty face earnest.
Helen smiled sadly. ‘I hope so.’
But she couldn’t believe it would be. Next year, 1937, she would have to face the anniversary of losing Charlie. She was already dreading it.
Chapter 16
At half-past four, Dora and Millie had to leave Helen and hurry back on duty.
‘She looked so sad, didn’t she?’ Millie said, as they headed back to the hospital, their heads down against the bitter winter weather.
‘I’m not surprised,’ Dora replied, her words carried away on the wind that whipped around them. ‘It must be the worst thing in the world, to go through what she has.’
‘I know.’ Millie shuddered, remembering the time she thought she might lose Seb, when he was posted to Spain to cover the Civil War. ‘I wish there was something we could do to help her.’
‘She just needs time,’ Dora said wisely. Then, looking at her watch, she added, ‘Speaking of which, we’re due back in ten minutes.’
They broke into a run, remembering to slow down to a rapid heel-toe walk as they got through the big iron gates of the hospital. It was a strict rule that nurses were not allowed to run ‘except in case of fire or haemorrhages’.
They raced back to the nurses’ home, deftly escaping the attention of the Home Sister, changed into their uniforms, then hurried back to the main ward block.
Millie reached Judd ward with seconds to spare, breathless and still trying to tuck her blonde curls under her cap. But she needn’t have bothered, since no one seemed to notice her arrival.
The place was in uproar, with nurses scuttling around, searching under beds, in cupboards and bathrooms.
‘What’s happened?’ She asked a probationer who appeared from the sluice.
‘It’s Mrs Shinwell,’ the pro replied breathlessly. ‘She’s run away!’
‘Run away? Where?’
‘If we knew that, we wouldn’t be looking,’ she heard the pro mutter, just as Sister Judd hurried up to her.
‘Benedict, I want you to go down to the Porters’ Lodge and alert Mr Hopkins to look out for Mrs Shinwell,’ she whispered. ‘Tell him we’ve searched the ward, and now I want all the porters searching the building. She really can’t have got far, in her condition. But she’s taken her clothes with her, so she’ll be trying to get out through the gates, I expect.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
Sister Judd shook her head. ‘She must be very determined to leave, since she must be in a great deal of pain.’
When Millie reached the Porters’ Lodge, she was surprised to see Dora already standing in the doorway.
‘Hello, what are you doing here?’ Dora greeted her.
‘I’ve got to see Mr Hopkins urgently. One of our patients has disappeared.’
Dora’s green eyes widened. ‘It wouldn’t be Mrs Shinwell by any chance, would it?’
‘How did you know?’
‘Because Mr Shinwell has done a bunk too!’
Chapter 17
Sister Parry was spending a week visiting her family in the West Country, so Jennifer Ryan was in charge of the Children’s ward on New Year’s Eve.
At five o’clock, she was in the milk kitchen supervising the student making up the feeds when a pro appeared in the doorway, white-faced.
‘Please, Staff, there’s a strange man on the ward,’ she whispered.
‘Well, tell him to go away.’
‘I’ve tried, Staff. He says he won’t leave until he’s seen his son. And he’s wearing a hospital gown,’ she added.
‘A hospital—? Are you quite sure, Wright?’
‘Yes, Staff.’
‘Well, I suppose I’d better come and s
ee for myself.’ Jennifer dried her hands and followed the pro out on to the ward.
A man stood in the doorway, stocky, dark and heavy-featured. And just as the pro had said, he was dressed in a hospital gown and leaning on a stick.
Jennifer composed herself and approached him.
‘Yes?’ she said, in her best imitation of Sister Parry’s imperious tone. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I’ve come to see my son.’
Jennifer’s gaze dropped to his bare legs, one foot encased in plaster, sticking out from the bottom of his white gown. ‘Visiting time was Christmas Eve,’ she advised. ‘The next one isn’t until a week today.’
The man adjusted his weight on his stick. ‘I’m sorry to be a trouble, Nurse, but I’m not leaving until I see my Gabriel.’
‘Gabriel?’ Jennifer stared at him. ‘You’re Gabriel’s father?’
‘So they tell me.’
Jennifer caught the pro’s startled look, and knew exactly what she was thinking. ‘But that’s not –’ she started to say, then stopped herself.
‘What is it, Nurse?’ the man frowned. ‘Is it my son? Is there something wrong?’
Jennifer hesitated. Yes, there was definitely something wrong. But she wasn’t going to be the one to explain it to this man. Better that he found out the truth for himself.
‘You’d better come with me,’ she said.
Chapter 18
‘Really, I don’t know what it is with you nurses,’ Mr Hopkins tutted. ‘I know you’re forever losing things, but it comes to something when you start losing patients…’
Millie did her best to hide her impatience as the Head Porter droned on. She was just about to excuse herself from his lecture when she suddenly spotted a figure hunched against one of the plane trees opposite the lodge.
‘It’s all right, Mr Hopkins, I think I’ve found her.’
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