Dora stared at her blankly, trying to fathom what was coming next.
‘But it hurt,’ Sister Parry went on. ‘Because children in hospital are in constant pain, I was in constant pain too. And when they died, I bled for them, just as you are bleeding now for this poor child, no matter how you try to hide it from me.’ She stroked a lock of fair hair away from Emily’s marble-pale face. ‘In the end I couldn’t bear it and considered giving up nursing completely, because I couldn’t stand to break my heart every day.’
‘So you hardened it instead.’ The words were out before Dora had time to think about them. She blushed. ‘I’m sorry, Sister, I didn’t mean to criticise—’
‘No, you’re quite right. I did harden my heart, in a way. Not completely, you understand. Believe it or not, there are still children who manage to get under my tough skin.’ She smiled sadly at Emily. ‘We wouldn’t be human if we didn’t feel something for the patients in our care. But you mustn’t bleed for them, Doyle, because then you are not doing your job. You have to build a wall between you and them, learn to stand back from it. Otherwise you will never be a good children’s nurse.’
‘I don’t think I’m good enough anyway,’ Dora sighed.
Sister Parry frowned at her. ‘On the contrary, Doyle, I believe you have the makings of an excellent children’s nurse. In fact, I was rather hoping you would consider returning to Parry after you qualify?’
‘Me, Sister?’ Dora stared at her in astonishment. ‘But I thought . . .’
‘You thought because I was hard on you it meant I considered you hopeless?’ Sister Parry shook her head. ‘No, Doyle, that is far from the case, I assure you. But I did think you were over-emotional and undisciplined. Hopefully that’s something I will be able to train out of you. If, that is, you would consider coming to work for a horrible old boot like me? Those were your words to Lane earlier, I believe?’
A hot blush crept up Dora’s neck, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at Sister Parry as she hurried to finish washing Emily.
They dressed the girl in a clean nightgown and white stockings, and Sister Parry arranged a posy of flowers in her hands.
‘Poor child,’ she said. ‘Another one with no one to mourn her.’
‘Did the doctors ever find out what was wrong with her, Sister?’ Dora asked.
Sister Parry shook her head. ‘None of the tests proved conclusive. In medical terms, she was in perfect health.’
‘It was strange that she went on wasting away, even when we fed her,’ Dora said.
‘It was,’ Sister Parry agreed. ‘But I have seen it happen before. A child just makes up their mind that they don’t want to live any more, and their body slowly fades away. The mind is a very powerful thing, Doyle. It can make an enormous difference between whether someone chooses to live or to die.’
‘And Emily chose to die,’ Dora said. ‘I wonder why?’
Sister Parry lifted her shoulders in a shrug. ‘Sadly, we’ll never know,’ she said. ‘But there was so much sadness in her, more than I’ve ever seen in a child. Those eyes of hers, so strange and detached . . . They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, don’t they? But looking into hers, you almost felt as if her spirit had detached itself from her body a long time ago, leaving an empty shell behind.’ Sister smiled tightly. ‘We can but hope it’s flying free now, wherever the poor child wants to be.’
But Dora was hardly listening. Her thoughts were racing, flying away like little Emily’s freed spirit.
‘Do they know why she was returned to the orphanage?’ she asked, as they folded the sheet around her to make a shroud.
Sister Parry shook her head. ‘All her mother would say was that she thought it was for the best. I must say, it seems rather an odd notion to me.’
Dora agreed silently. She couldn’t imagine what would drive any mother to give up her child, even an adopted one. ‘It seems so cruel,’ she said.
‘It isn’t for us to judge,’ Sister Parry said wisely. ‘Perhaps Emily was traumatised by the adoption in some way, and couldn’t settle with them? Or perhaps she and her husband realised they weren’t cut out to be parents after all? That can happen, I suppose. A couple take on someone else’s child thinking they can love it as their own, only to find they are not capable of such unselfishness.’ She carefully folded the sheet over the child’s sleeping face. ‘At any rate, she is at peace now.’
An idea, dark and poisonous, began to uncurl in the back of Dora’s mind.
‘Did the doctor examine Emily thoroughly when she was first admitted?’ Dora knew she shouldn’t be asking, that she could be punished for daring to question her superiors, but she also knew she wouldn’t be able to rest unless she did.
Sister Parry frowned. ‘I don’t think Mr Hobbs considered there to be any need. All the usual blood and urine tests were carried out, to rule out medical causes for her decline. What on earth is this about, Doyle? Why do you ask?’
‘It’s not important, Sister. I just had a thought, that’s all.’
‘Would you like to tell me what it is?’
Dora shook her head. ‘I was just being silly.’
Emily should rest in peace, she decided. If Dora was right in her suspicions, the child didn’t deserve anything else to happen to her, even in death.
As Sister Parry had talked, Dora had suddenly realised why she felt such a bond with Emily. It was those eyes of hers, with the strange, vacant stare of someone who had left their body behind, shut it off because it was easier to deal with the pain that way.
It was the same vacant stare Dora used to see every day in the mirror when Alf had been part of her life.
She thought about Emily’s adoptive mother. What must it have taken for her to bring Emily back to the orphanage? It must have been something truly desperate to drive her to return a child she had wanted so badly for so long.
What if she did it to protect Emily? What if she discovered something was happening to the child, something that meant it was no longer safe for her to stay at home? Her father, an uncle, a grandfather, perhaps? And rather than expose the sordid secret, she had quietly returned the child to a place where she would be safe.
It was for the best, she had said. Little did she know the damage had already been done, and that poor Emily would be so traumatised that she would simply waste away.
Dora shuddered, thinking about the past. She had tried to push all thoughts of Alf Doyle from her mind, but now they refused to go away.
She had to find the money to get rid of him, Dora decided. Otherwise Josie or Bea might end up like little Emily one day.
Chapter Forty-Four
EFFIE WATCHED THE penny spinning high into the air. It twisted for a moment, catching the light from the tall window. Then it came down, landing and instantly bouncing off the drum-tight drawsheet.
Sister Parry nodded her satisfaction. ‘That,’ she said, ‘is how you make a bed. Well done, O’Hara.’
Effie preened herself. It was only a bed, but it was practically the first thing she’d done right since she’d arrived on the ward. Her new leaf must be working, she thought.
Now if only she could sort out the whole business with Jess, everything would be perfect.
It had been two weeks since her departure. Sister Sutton had been discharged from the sick bay and was firmly back in charge at the nurses’ home, having recovered from what turned out to be a severe kidney infection.
There was now a new maid sleeping in Jess’ room, a surly girl called Pearl, who spent most of her time on the hall telephone and whose shelves contained nothing but old copies of Picturegoer and photos of her various boyfriends.
Everyone seemed to have forgotten about Jess Jago. But there was something about her absence that troubled Effie. And she knew she had to do something to put it right.
She had tried talking to her sister about it.
‘Are you mad?’ Katie had said. ‘Effie, please tell me you’re not serious?’
‘Why shou
ldn’t I speak up?’
‘But you’re doing so well. You haven’t blotted your copybook in ages. Don’t start causing trouble again, please!’
‘I’m sorry, Katie, but I can’t just sit by and watch Jess be blamed for something she didn’t do.’
‘What difference does it make?’ Katie reasoned. ‘She’s gone now, it won’t affect her either way. But you . . . you’re skating on thin ice as it is, Effie. I don’t want you to get into any more trouble. You heard what Matron said. If you get another black mark against your name . . .’
‘Do you remember why I got that black mark?’ Effie interrupted her.
‘Of course I do. You were accused of poisoning that wretched punch.’ Katie shuddered. ‘Don’t remind me.’
‘Exactly. I was accused of something I didn’t do,’ Effie said. ‘And now the same thing is happening to Jess.’
‘That’s different.’
‘How?’
‘Because – oh, I don’t know, it just is.’ Katie pointed an accusing finger at her. ‘I’m warning you, Euphemia O’Hara. If you do this, I won’t be responsible for my actions!’
Which was why Effie decided not to tell her sister when she went to see Matron after her duty finished that evening.
By the time it dawned on her that Katie was right and it might not be a good idea, she was already standing in Matron’s office. And just to make it even more terrifying, Miss Hanley was there too. She stood behind Matron’s shoulder like a fire-breathing dragon, glaring at Effie as if she couldn’t fathom who would have the sheer gall to request such an audience.
Matron, by contrast, was calm and kindly-looking.
‘You wanted to see me, O’Hara? How odd, it’s usually the other way round,’ she said.
Effie smiled nervously. ‘Yes, Matron.’
‘Well?’ Matron prompted her. ‘What can I do for you?’
Effie took a steadying breath. ‘It’s about Jess Jago.’
Matron frowned. ‘You mean the maid who was dismissed for theft?’
‘That’s just it, Matron,’ Effie said. ‘I don’t believe she stole those things.’
Matron tilted her head, considering this. ‘I see. So does this mean you know who the real culprit was, O’Hara?’
‘I think I do, Matron.’
‘Spit it out, girl!’ Miss Hanley broke in impatiently. ‘Matron doesn’t have all day!’
Effie squared her shoulders. She was doing this for Jess, she told herself. ‘I think it was Sister Sutton.’
A shocked silence filled the room. Matron sat quite still, her face giving nothing away. Miss Hanley, by contrast, was gasping like a stranded fish.
‘Well!’ she finally managed to roar. ‘The impertinence! To accuse the Home Sister of such a thing! I can scarcely believe it—’
‘Perhaps you’d like to explain how you came to this conclusion, O’Hara?’ Matron’s voice cut clearly across the Assistant Matron’s blustering.
‘It’s the leprechaun, Matron.’
Matron’s eyes widened. Effie saw the astonishment in them and realised she hadn’t explained herself very well.
‘Are you saying one of the little people told you?’ Miss Hanley snorted with derision. ‘Did it whisper in your ear? Really, Matron, I don’t know why we’re listening to this nonsense . . .’
‘You don’t understand,’ Effie blurted out. ‘My sister Katie has a china leprechaun. I gave it to her for her birthday. But it’s sitting on Sister Sutton’s mantelpiece now.’
‘And you believe Sister Sutton stole this – ornament?’
‘Preposterous!’ Miss Hanley snapped.
‘I don’t think she meant to do it,’ Effie went on, ignoring her. ‘I think she took the leprechaun and the other things by mistake – without even realising.’
‘Go on,’ Matron said.
‘She’s been ill with a kidney infection,’ Effie said. ‘We had a lecture on infection during PTS, and I remember one of the doctors saying mental confusion is a symptom of kidney disease.’
‘Mental confusion?’ Miss Hanley echoed in disbelief. ‘The very idea!’
‘I just wonder if it’s possible that Sister Sutton might have taken the things without knowing about it?’
Effie was aware of Miss Hanley, red-faced and hissing as if she was coming to the boil. But she fixed her gaze on Matron instead, willing her to believe her.
Miss Fox took a deep breath. ‘I will consider what you have told me, O’Hara,’ she said calmly.
‘But do you think it’s possible, Matron?’
‘I said, I will consider it.’ Her voice was firm, brooking no argument. Even Effie understood it was time to beat a hasty retreat.
She’d done her best. She only hoped she wouldn’t be punished for it.
Kathleen waited for the door to close, then turned to her deputy. ‘What do you think?’
The Assistant Matron stared at her. ‘Surely you can’t be taking her seriously? It’s clear to see the girl is unhinged. I blame the Irish blood. Coming in here, spouting all kinds of nonsense about leprechauns and the like!’
‘All the same, there was a modicum of sense to it,’ Kathleen said. ‘Mental confusion is one of the symptoms of kidney infection, and Dr McKay said Sister Sutton’s case was quite severe. That it was likely she had been suffering a mild form for months before it became acute.’
‘Yes, but Sister Sutton would never do such a thing!’
‘Not in her right mind,’ Kathleen said.
Miss Hanley looked quietly furious. ‘So you’re accepting the word of a silly student nurse over the Home Sister?’
Kathleen Fox was silent. For once, she truly didn’t know what to think.
‘What do you think?’
Lucy’s mother opened the magazine and set it down on the coffee table in front of her. ‘Inside the charming London home of Emerald Channing’ the headline read, followed by several photographs of Mrs Channing, wealthy American hostess, draped across various chairs and sofas in her salon.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Lucy said admiringly.
‘I wish I could say the same about her.’ Clarissa shuddered. ‘Ghastly woman. But absolutely pots of money and no idea how to spend it. Do you know, she seriously considered having some kind of artwork done on her ceiling? I told her, it’s South Kensington, not the Sistine Chapel. But at least they mentioned my name in the article.’ She pointed it out. ‘Hopefully it will lead to more commissions.’
Lucy smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother so happy and animated.
‘You sound as if you’re quite busy already?’ she said.
‘Yes, I am. Things are really taking off, thanks to Mr Alderson. He’s been an absolute wonder, introducing me all around the place. For someone who’s only been in town for a year, he knows simply everyone.’
‘Yes, he seems like the kind of man who’d ingratiate himself everywhere he goes,’ Lucy said sourly.
Her mother sent her a reproachful look. ‘Now, Lucy, don’t be mean. Leo has been terribly helpful. I couldn’t have launched my business without him.’
‘I’m sure you could,’ she said. ‘Anyway, he owes it to us to help, since he was the one who got us into this trouble in the first place.’
‘That’s just it, you see. He didn’t.’ Clarissa closed the magazine and leaned back against the cushions of the sofa. ‘It was one of Leo’s colleagues who got hold of the story, through a former employee of your father’s. Leo found out a few weeks ago, from his editor. I suppose it was bound to happen, with all those disgruntled people being put out of jobs. At any rate, it wasn’t Leo’s fault. If anything, he was the one who got into trouble. The poor man was fired when they found out he’d sat on the story to protect us.’
Lucy stared at her. ‘I didn’t know that!’
‘Oh, yes, poor darling. But now he says he’s going to write a novel about the British upper classes. I can’t wait to read it. He’s such an amusing man, it’s bound to be absolutely scu
rrilous.’ Then, as an afterthought, Clarissa added, ‘I’ve invited him to supper tonight, by the way.’
‘Oh, Mother! Why did you do that? I was looking forward to spending a pleasant evening.’
‘It will be pleasant, darling. I told you, Leo’s a charming man when you get to know him.’
‘Well, I’m immune to his charms,’ Lucy said crossly. She reached up and smoothed her hair. ‘And I’m in the most dreadful state, too. I haven’t been to the hairdresser in months.’
‘Why should that worry you, if you’re as immune to Leo’s charms as you claim to be?’ her mother teased. She leaned forward confidingly. ‘Between you and me, I think the only reason he has been so helpful to me is so he can get into your good books.’
‘Stop it, Mother!’ Lucy snapped, but she couldn’t help feeling rather pleased at the idea.
There was a knock on the door. ‘There’s your admirer now!’ Clarissa smiled. ‘Go and let him in, please, darling, while I finish supper.’
It was a wonderful, relaxed evening, full of laughter. Her mother’s friend Lavinia and her husband came up from downstairs and entertained them all with outrageous stories. It was positively Bohemian, nothing like the stuffy dinner parties they’d had in Eaton Place.
Her mother had made sure Lucy was sitting next to Leo.
‘I’m sorry you lost your job,’ she said to him when she had the chance. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Would you have cared?’
‘Probably not, at the time.’
‘How about now?’
She glanced sideways at him. He was rather attractive, once she allowed herself to admit it.
‘Mother also tells me you’re writing a novel?’ she said. ‘Is it as racy as she thinks?’
‘I don’t know about racy.’ He swirled his wine around in his glass. ‘It’s about a young American who comes to England and meets a very grand society girl.’
‘That doesn’t sound like much of a plot to me.’
‘You’re right,’ Leo agreed. ‘She’s a real pain in the rear and it’s kind of hate at first sight. But then she loses all her money and he realises she’s not so bad after all.’
Nightingales on Call Page 35