‘Don’t be silly! We’re going to the pictures next Friday, remember?’
‘But that’s a whole week away! How am I going to manage until then?’
‘You’ll manage,’ she laughed. ‘Now go. I’ve got to get changed and be back on duty by five.’
‘On one condition.’
‘What’s that?’
‘That you say you love me again.’
‘I can’t!’ Helen looked around, embarrassed. ‘Not here.’
‘Say it again, or I’ll stand right here until you do.’
He looked so obstinate, standing there leaning on his stick, that Helen laughed. ‘All right, then.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I love you, Charlie Denton. Is that enough for you?’
He thought about it for a moment. ‘I would have preferred you to shout it from the rooftops, but that will do for now, I s’pose.’ He bent forward, and kissed her gently on the lips. ‘I’ll see you next Friday.’
He walked away, limping on his stick. Helen went in through the hospital gates and was crossing the courtyard when she heard his voice, loud and clear as a bell, ringing out over the hospital wall.
‘I love you, Nurse Helen Tremayne!’
It seemed to ring out for ever like an echo around the tranquil courtyard. All around her people looked up to see where the sound was coming from. Helen stood rooted to the spot, her whole body flaming with heat, certain everyone must be looking at her. But embarrassed as she felt, she also couldn’t stop smiling.
And then she turned around and saw her mother waiting for her outside the black front door of the nurses’ home and the smile froze on her face.
A wave of fear crashed over Helen, making her gulp for air. She wanted to run, but her feet were already moving, dragging her towards her mother as if pulled by an invisible thread.
Constance Tremayne stood on the steps, as still as a statue, both hands clutching the strap of her sensible handbag.
‘Go inside,’ she ordered through tight, unmoving lips.
The nurses’ home was closed to families or friends, but as usual the rules did not apply to Constance Tremayne as she led the way into the empty sitting room. The July sun shone through the bay window, throwing a broad patch of light on to the worn, sagging settees. A solitary teacup from the previous night sat in a sticky ring on the table.
Constance stood at the window, back turned to her daughter, staring out across the courtyard. Helen had got used to reading her mother’s moods. From the set of her stiff spine to her tightly clenched hands, it was obvious she was furious.
Helen fixed her gaze on the teacup, braced herself, and waited.
‘Who is he?’ Constance asked finally.
‘His name is Charlie.’ Her voice came out as a whisper.
‘How long has this been going on?’
‘Nearly three months.’
Her mother turned around to face her. ‘You have been lying to me for that long? I had no idea you could be so deceitful.’
‘I haven’t lied to you, I just . . .’
‘Be quiet, Helen.’
‘But Mother . . .’
‘I will tell you when you can speak.’ Constance gazed out of the window again. ‘I suppose he is the reason you were caught coming back late?’
Helen’s heart sank. It was too much to hope that her mother would not have found out about that. She knew everything.
‘Well? What have you to say for yourself?’
She stared down at the box in her hands. ‘I’m sorry, Mother.’
Helen felt the chill of her mother’s wintry gaze on her. ‘I’m afraid sorry is not enough, Helen. I wonder if you realise how deeply disappointed I am in you?’ She came to stand before her. ‘You have let yourself and your family down. I brought you up to be a decent girl, to have high moral standards. I did not bring you up to stay out all hours and behave like a common tart!’
‘I’m not a tart!’ Helen protested. ‘I just have a boyfriend, that’s all. Lots of girls have boyfriends.’
‘Not you! You’re better than that. I will not have your name tainted with scandal, do you hear me? I will not have people whispering about you behind your back, saying you’re no better than you ought to be. I don’t think you quite understand, Helen, I have an excellent name in this hospital. I won’t have you tainting it with your sordid little liaisons!’
‘It’s not a sordid liaison,’ she protested. ‘Charlie’s a nice boy. I’ve even met his family. I’m sure if you got to know him . . .’
‘I have no intention of getting to know him, because you won’t be seeing him again,’ Constance declared flatly.
‘But Mother—’
She held up a hand for silence. ‘That’s enough, Helen. I don’t wish to talk about it any more. I’ve made my decision and that’s the end of it.’
Helen stared at her, shocked. Constance was already gathering up her handbag, as if the matter were settled.
‘Y-you can’t say that,’ she stammered. ‘I love Charlie.’
‘Love! For heaven’s sake, Helen, do you know how utterly ridiculous you sound? Why, you’re like one of those simpering fools in Peg’s Paper!’ Her mother gave her a pitying look. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re far too young and naive, you don’t know the first thing about it.’
Helen watched her adjust her gloves, fastening the buttons at her wrists, fastidious as ever.
‘So I’m never going to be allowed to have a boyfriend, is that it?’ she asked quietly.
‘Of course you can have a boyfriend, Helen. Don’t be so melodramatic.’ Constance paused to consider the matter. ‘When you’re older, and you’ve finished your training, then I’m sure a suitable young man will come along.’
‘And I suppose you’ll tell me where and when to find him?’ The words were out before she could stop herself.
Her mother stared at her. ‘Don’t be impertinent, Helen.’
‘I’m not being impertinent. I just don’t understand why I can’t have a boyfriend. William has lots of girlfriends, and you don’t say anything to him.’
She saw her mother’s expression soften. ‘William is different. He is a young man, and he doesn’t need my guidance so much.’
Really? Helen thought. For a moment she was tempted to tell her mother the real reason for Peggy Gibson’s breakdown. But she couldn’t betray William and she didn’t think her mother would believe her anyway. Constance Tremayne doted on her son.
‘You are a young, impressionable girl and you must be protected for your own good,’ she went on briskly. ‘Which is why I have decided to remove you from this hospital.’
‘What?’ Helen stared at her in dismay. ‘But why?’
‘Because I am no longer satisfied that it is a suitable place for you to continue your training.’ Constance absently ran one gloved finger along the window ledge and inspected it for dust.
‘But I don’t want to go. I like it here. I’ve made friends.’
‘And I’m sure you’ll make friends elsewhere.’ She snapped her handbag shut. ‘Now, I must be going. I shall expect you for tea tomorrow, since it is your birthday.’
‘You can’t do this.’
Her mother was almost at the door before Helen managed to get the words out. Constance stopped and stared at her. ‘I beg your pardon?’
Helen couldn’t look at her. She fixed her eyes on the jewellery box in her hands instead. It made her think of Charlie, which gave her courage she’d never had before. ‘You can’t run my life for me like this. You’ve always decided everything for me, but not any more. You can’t take me away from here, and you can’t tell me who I can and can’t fall in love with.’
‘Of course I can, Helen. I am your mother. I have your best interests at heart.’
‘No, you don’t. All you’ve ever wanted to do is turn me into a copy of yourself. But I’m not you, and I’m sick of doing everything you say. I want to be allowed to think for myself—’
The slap was hard and sudd
en, catching her off balance. Helen staggered sideways and the box fell from her hands.
‘You see?’ Her mother’s tight-lipped face swam before her eyes. ‘The very fact that you’re answering me back shows me how out of control you are. The sooner we remove you from this place, the better.’
She left. Helen heard the front door bang shut and sank to her knees. Her beautiful jewellery box lay in pieces on the rug, its lid broken off. Seeing it there, broken in two, hurt more than any blow her mother could have given her.
She picked up the pieces and tried to fit them back together, but she couldn’t see through a hot blur of tears. Finally she gave up as misery overtook her and she started to sob. She heard the sound of the front door again, and knew she should pick herself up and stop crying, but she couldn’t. She didn’t care if one of the other students saw her, or if Sister Sutton came in. She didn’t care about anything any more.
Footsteps passed the sitting room, and then stopped.
‘Tremayne?’ Dora’s voice came from the doorway. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
Helen tried to explain, but she couldn’t speak for crying.
‘Come on, it’s all right. We’ll sort it out.’ She heard the crackle of starched fabric as Dora knelt beside her. ‘Come on, love. Don’t get upset. Bit of glue and it’ll be as right as rain.’
As Dora put her arms around her shaking shoulders, Helen wished she could explain it would take more than a bit of glue to mend her broken heart.
Chapter Fifty-One
‘WHY, MRS TREMAYNE, what a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know we had a meeting today?’
Kathleen Fox’s smile was strained as she returned from her morning round to find Constance waiting for her in her office.
‘We didn’t.’ Constance quivered like a highly strung racehorse, a sure sign of impending trouble. ‘But there’s a matter I wish to discuss with you.’
What is it this time? Kathleen wondered. A nurse being allowed off duty five minutes early? Too much coal being used to fire up the stoke hole? She braced herself for the worst.
‘It’s about my daughter,’ Constance said.
Kathleen’s heart sank. So Miss Hanley had managed to be the bearer of bad tidings after all.
‘Oh, yes?’ She took her seat behind her desk.
‘I’m removing her from this hospital.’
Kathleen looked up sharply. She’d been expecting a rebuke, possibly even a lecture. But not this. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I am taking Helen away from the Nightingale. I have put my intentions in writing.’ She rummaged in her handbag and produced an envelope, which she pushed across the desk to Kathleen. ‘As you’ll see, I intend to take Helen away as soon as possible—’
‘But you can’t!’ Kathleen stared dumbly at the letter on the desk, still struggling to take in what she was hearing. ‘Helen’s approaching her final year. Another few months and she’ll be taking her State Final.’
‘She can finish her studies elsewhere. I have been in contact with St Andrew’s in Aberdeen. They are more than happy to accept her, given her record and good character.’
‘You’re sending her all the way to Scotland?’
Constance Tremayne’s mouth tightened. ‘St Andrew’s has an excellent reputation as a teaching hospital.’
‘Yes, but even so . . .’ ‘Then Kathleen saw the spite gleaming in Constance Tremayne’s eyes, and it all made perfect sense.
‘You’re doing this to punish her,’ she said flatly.
Outrage flared in Constance’s taut face. ‘I’m doing what’s best for my daughter.’
‘Are you? Is that really why you’re doing this, Mrs Tremayne?’
They faced each other across the desk, neither of them blinking. Then, finally, Constance said, ‘If you must know, I have grave concerns about the way this hospital is being run, and in particular the moral welfare of the young nurses in your care.’
Kathleen could feel her temper rising and held on to it grimly. ‘I can assure you, Helen’s moral welfare is not in danger,’ she said.
‘Is that so?’ Constance’s Tremayne’s brows arched. ‘And are you aware, Matron, that for the past three months my daughter has been seeing – a man?’
The way she said it made it sound as if Helen had been consorting with white slave traders.
‘Lots of the nurses have boyfriends, Mrs Tremayne,’ Kathleen said mildly.
‘Not my daughter!’ Constance Tremayne looked genuinely shocked. ‘What is more, she’s been seeing this – this person in secret.’
I’m not surprised, Kathleen thought. How else was the girl to have any kind of private life? She thought about poor downtrodden Helen Tremayne, who walked with her head down and never dared stand up for herself even when the other girls provoked and tormented her.
‘Helen is an upright, moral girl of excellent character,’ Constance continued. ‘Or she was, until all this happened.’
‘Oh, come along, Mrs Tremayne!’ Kathleen couldn’t help smiling. ‘You can’t condemn the girl just for falling in love.’
‘In love?’ Constance Tremayne went white to her lips, her face rigid with rage and shock. ‘My daughter is not in love, Matron. She doesn’t know the meaning of the word. She’s become infatuated, allowed herself to be led astray with all kinds of silly notions she knows nothing about. She should be concentrating on her studies, not filling her head with fanciful nonsense about boys and romance! If this silliness continues she will end up failing her exams.’
‘I can’t see that happening at all,’ Kathleen reasoned. ‘Helen is a very conscientious girl. She takes her studies very seriously indeed. I certainly haven’t seen any evidence of silliness, as you call it.’
‘Really? And what do you call her recent rule-breaking?’ Mrs Tremayne pounced triumphantly. ‘Helen wouldn’t have dreamt of staying out late before she met this person.’ Her mouth curled with distaste. ‘So you see, it’s starting already. And what will happen next, I wonder? What else is this reprobate going to talk her into? I’ve already seen her defy me because she’s so besotted with him. How long before he really leads her astray, takes advantage of her?’ Her eyes blazed fiercely bright, and an angry vein pulsed in her temple. ‘Helen is a naïve young girl. She could end up disgraced, her life in ruins. I won’t have that happen, do you hear? I will not allow that to happen to my daughter!’
Kathleen regarded her carefully. She had never seen Constance Tremayne so furious before. She looked as if she was ready to explode.
Kathleen’s next words were spoken in a calm and deliberate manner. ‘Have you met this young man, Mrs Tremayne?’ she asked mildly.
‘Met him? Of course I haven’t met him!’ Constance Tremayne’s voice was shrill. ‘I have no intention of doing so. I want to end this nonsense, nip it in the bud before Helen’s future is ruined.’
‘And you think sending her to Scotland will solve the problem, do you?’
‘It will put her out of harm’s way.’ Constance was quieter now, clutching her handbag in front of her like a shield of righteousness.
‘I believe they have young men north of the border too,’ Kathleen pointed out. She saw Constance Tremayne bristle with anger again, and quickly tried to calm her. ‘I understand you want to protect your daughter, Mrs Tremayne, but you can’t shield her for ever.’
‘How can you possibly understand?’ Constance flashed back. ‘You’re not a mother.’
‘I know, but—’
‘Then kindly don’t try to tell me how to bring up my own daughter.’ Constance Tremayne stood up and straightened her hat. ‘Anyway, this is not a matter for discussion,’ she said briskly. ‘I’ve made my decision, and that’s final.’
‘And what does Helen think?’
Constance Tremayne frowned, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. ‘Helen will do as she’s told.’
‘For how long?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I’ve seen the way you treat her
, the way you talk to her.’ Kathleen could feel her anger rolling like a rock down a hill, gaining momentum. ‘You terrify and bully that poor girl until she doesn’t know which way to turn. One day she is going to stand up for herself, and when she does you’ll only have yourself to blame!’
The two women faced each other across the desk. Constance’s eyes were fixed on Kathleen’s face, coldly accusing. ‘I have made my decision,’ she repeated firmly. ‘And you can be sure the Board of Trustees will hear about the way you have spoken to me!’
‘It’s nothing compared to what I’d like to say,’ Kathleen muttered as the door closed. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She was sure she hadn’t done herself or poor Helen any favours, but she couldn’t help flying off the handle. Constance Tremayne was simply insufferable.
Seized by a sudden fit of rage, she picked up a wooden paperweight and hurled it at the door, narrowly missing Miss Hanley as she opened it.
‘Don’t you ever knock?’ Kathleen snapped, for once too angry to be civil. She was tired of tiptoeing around her Assistant Matron while Miss Hanley seemed to do as she pleased.
‘Is there something wrong, Matron?’
‘You could say that.’ Kathleen stared across the desk at her. Miss Hanley stood erect and implacable, her immaculately starched uniform stretched over her broad shoulders, hands folded in front of her. Kathleen suddenly wished she had another paperweight to hurl.
‘We’ve had a visit from Mrs Tremayne,’ she said.
‘Oh, yes?’ The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Miss Hanley’s thin mouth. No doubt she was relishing the thought of the drubbing Kathleen would have received.
‘For once I wasn’t the one in trouble.’ She kept her voice deliberately light. ‘It seems someone has seen fit to inform Mrs Tremayne about her daughter’s recent reprimand. I wonder who that could have been?’ Miss Hanley’s broad face gave nothing away. ‘At any rate, the damage is done now. Mrs Tremayne is so appalled by the lack of discipline in this hospital that she intends to take Helen away.’
The Nightingale Girls Page 39