The Nightingale Christmas Show

by Donna Douglas

  Daisy knew all about it from listening to Betty Philips and the other students giggling about it in the common room. It sounded utterly excruciating. ‘I’m sure you can’t have been any worse than Rose and me,’ she replied tactfully.

  ‘Has Miss Davis crossed you two off her list as well?’

  Daisy pulled a face. ‘She put such a thick cross through our names I think she broke her pen nib!’

  ‘That’s a shame. I thought you were rather funny.’

  ‘Thank you.’ It didn’t bother her that their act was supposed to be serious. The fact that he’d even noticed her was enough.

  ‘Anyway, I’ve been thinking,’ Tom said. ‘Perhaps we should join forces?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, since we both seem to have obvious comedic talents, albeit unintentional, perhaps we should turn them to something else, something that might win favour with Miss Davis. A comic sketch, perhaps, or another song?’

  ‘What a good idea!’ Daisy was so thrilled, she completely forgot her promise to Rose that they would never have to set foot on a stage again. She was already thinking of all the private rehearsals she could have with Tom Armstrong. ‘Count us in.’

  Tom frowned. ‘Shouldn’t you talk to Nurse Trent about it first? She might not want to do it.’

  ‘Oh, there’s no need. I know Rose will be as keen as I am,’ Daisy lied. ‘She was so disappointed when she found out we weren’t included. She’s desperate to be involved.’

  Before Tom had time to reply, they heard the sound of footsteps echoing up the passageway outside, approaching the sluice. Daisy froze at the sound. If Sister Wren found them together, all hell would break loose. She would be hauled up before Matron in a moment, probably by her hair if Sister had anything to do with it.

  At least Tom Armstrong had the presence of mind to duck behind the door as it swung open and Miss Trott stuck her head inside.

  ‘Have you finished with those bedpans yet, Baker?’ she asked.

  ‘Nearly finished, Sister.’

  ‘Well, hurry along. There are other jobs to be done, once you’ve finished.’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’

  She started to close the door but just as Daisy was about to breathe again, Sister Wren added, ‘And should you not be on the consultant’s rounds, Dr Armstrong? I’m sure Mr Powell will be looking for you, too.’

  The door closed and Daisy and Tom stared at each other.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Dr Armstrong said.

  ‘I did, but I don’t believe it.’ Daisy shook her head. For a young student nurse to be found alone with a doctor was an offence that carried the severest of punishments. Daisy could easily have been on her way home by the end of the day.

  Some ward sisters turned a blind eye occasionally, but not Miss Trott. She never, ever missed an opportunity to punish a student.

  Until now.

  ‘She’s been in a strange mood for a few days now,’ Daisy said. ‘I broke a thermometer yesterday and she didn’t even send me to Matron. She just smiled and said accidents will happen.’

  Tom shook his head. ‘That doesn’t sound like her. What do you think could have happened?’

  ‘I don’t know. Rose thought she might have been at the medicinal brandy.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s in love?’

  Daisy laughed. ‘Sister Wren? I doubt it.’

  ‘At any rate, let’s not chance our luck. I’d best go. Have a word with Nurse Trent and let me know, won’t you?’

  ‘I will,’ Daisy promised. ‘But she’ll love the idea, I know she will.’

  As it turned out, Rose did not love the idea. Daisy broke the news to her later as they were cleaning the bathrooms together.

  ‘He sought me out especially to ask me,’ she said excitedly. ‘Which means he must be interested, don’t you think?’

  She had expected her friend to be as excited as she was about her romantic conquest, but Rose sat back on her heels, scrubbing brush in her hand.

  ‘You could have asked me first,’ she said.

  ‘There wasn’t time.’ Besides, Daisy added silently, you would only have said no. ‘You will do it, won’t you?’ she pleaded. ‘Oh, Trent, please don’t be a wet blanket. You know how much it means to me.’

  Rose sighed. ‘It doesn’t look as if I have much choice, does it? Even if I say no you’ll probably just go on and on about it until I change my mind.’

  ‘Probably!’ Daisy laughed, pleased with herself.

  Daisy made sure she was properly done up for the next rehearsal. Even though she was still in uniform she curled her hair artfully around the edge of her cap, and even risked putting on a bit of make-up.

  ‘You know Miss Davis will have a fit if she sees you,’ Rose warned her as she watched Daisy applying her lipstick.

  ‘She’ll never notice.’

  ‘You must be joking! Her eagle eye never misses anything.’

  ‘Oh well, it’s worth the risk,’ Daisy shrugged. ‘It’s about time Tom got a look at me in my finery.’

  ‘Well, I shall look as dowdy as ever and remain quietly in the background,’ Rose said. ‘That way you can have all the limelight for yourself.’

  Daisy smiled. She wasn’t too worried about that. She had every intention of dazzling Tom Armstrong so much he wouldn’t notice anyone else.

  When they got to the dining hall they found out that it was the delightful Sister Jarvis in charge of the rehearsal, and not crabby Miss Davis. Daisy and Rose had both worked with Miss Tanner down in the sector hospital when they were training, and she had been positively angelic to them. Unlike most of the other ward sisters, she did not treat her students like slaves, or believe that they had to suffer in order to learn anything.

  As they came in she raised her eyebrows at Daisy’s lipstick, but passed no comment.

  ‘You see?’ She smiled at Rose. ‘I told you there was nothing to worry about.’

  Rose sent her a shrewd look. ‘You have the luck of the devil, Daisy Baker!’

  Daisy’s grin widened. ‘I do, don’t I?’

  She certainly felt as if her luck was holding when Tom Armstrong sought them out.

  ‘I’ve been working on our song,’ he said. ‘I’ve come up with some words I think you’ll like.’

  ‘I’m sure we will,’ Daisy beamed.

  ‘Shall we find somewhere quiet to practise?’

  ‘Lead the way.’

  Daisy smiled over her shoulder at Rose as they followed him to the far end of the dining hall. This was working out even better than she had imagined.

  As it turned out, Tom Armstrong was better at writing songs than he was at performing magic tricks. He had made up some very amusing words to the tune of ‘In an English Country Garden’.

  ‘What kind of people will you hope to find in the Nightingale Hospital?’ he hummed the chorus for them. ‘There are patients there of every kind in the Nightingale Hospital …’

  Daisy laughed loudly, interrupting him. ‘That’s so funny!’ she cried.

  ‘I haven’t really started yet,’ Tom Armstrong said, slightly apologetic.

  ‘It’s still very clever. Isn’t he clever, Rose?’

  Rose sent her an odd look. ‘That second line doesn’t scan properly,’ she said to Tom. ‘Wouldn’t it be better if it was slightly longer?’

  ‘It sounds fine to me the way it is,’ Daisy said firmly, seeing Tom’s frown.

  ‘No, you’re right.’ Tom turned to Rose. ‘I did think that myself, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.’

  Rose thought for a moment. ‘How about if instead of “patients” you said something like, “wounds and diseases of every kind”?’

  ‘Wounds and diseases?’ Tom hummed it under his breath. ‘Yes, I suppose that does sound better,’ he said.

  ‘What’s the next line?’ Daisy urged, flashing a warning look at Rose. ‘Do tell us, I’m dying to hear it.’

  ‘All right.’ Tom cleared his throat and sang, ‘What kind of
people will you hope to find at the Nightingale Hospital? There are wounds and diseases of every kind at the Nightingale Hospital. Jaundice, mumps and adenoids, Hernias and haemorrhoids … and I’m afraid I rather ran out of inspiration at that point.’ He looked apologetic.

  Once again, Rose thought for a moment. ‘What about “Fractures of the carpal scaphoid”?’ she suggested.

  Daisy stared at her. What happened to keeping quiet in the background?

  Tom nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, that’s perfect. And for the next line we could have, “There are gallstones and sores …”’

  ‘“… and infections galore”?’ Rose finished for him.

  ‘Yes!’ Tom laughed as he scribbled down the words. ‘That was a stroke of genius, Nurse Trent. You’re like Gilbert to my Sullivan.’

  Rose smiled. ‘I used to enjoy poetry at school.’

  As they carried on rehearsing, Daisy started to feel a bit frustrated. Up until this moment, it hadn’t actually occurred to her that they would be doing any work. She had half thought they would just be larking about and flirting.

  But Tom and Rose seemed to be getting stuck in, poring over his piece of paper. Every so often Rose would take the pencil from him and write something. He would read it, then say, ‘Yes. Yes, that’s even better. Well done, Nurse Trent!’

  Daisy had always been useless at English at school, so she could only sit there, twisting one of her artful curls around her finger and hoping that he might notice her at last.

  Finally, the rehearsal ended, and Miss Tanner gathered them all around the piano for a jolly sing-song.

  As they took their places, Daisy was aware of Betty Philips sidling up to her.

  ‘Isn’t it nice to see her so happy?’ she sighed.

  Daisy frowned over her shoulder at her. ‘Who?’

  ‘Your friend Trent, of course. The poor girl’s had such a miserable time of it lately, it’s good to see her smiling again. And I suppose she has you to thank for it,’ she went on. ‘I must say, Baker, it’s awfully good of you to step aside for your friend. I would never have imagined you making such a sacrifice.’

  Daisy glared at her. There was something about the knowing smile on Philips’ face that she did not trust. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Oh, you mean you haven’t noticed?’ Betty’s face was the picture of innocence. ‘Dr Armstrong seems to be taking rather an interest in her. Look at them, laughing together. If you ask me, he’s smitten.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘And there was me, thinking you wanted him for yourself. You’re a real pal, Baker.’

  Miss Tanner struck up the opening bars of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’, but Daisy found she had suddenly lost her voice. All she could do was stare across the piano to where Rose and Tom Armstrong were standing together, singing away. They weren’t looking at each other, but there was something about the way they stood with their shoulders brushing that sent a warning prickle up her spine.

  Betty Philips was just being a cat as usual, she told herself. Tom Armstrong wasn’t interested in Rose, and she definitely wasn’t interested in him.

  As they headed back to the nurses’ home later, Rose said, ‘You know, Baker, I’m glad you talked me into doing this. I had fun tonight.’

  ‘I’m glad someone did,’ Daisy muttered.

  Rose looked sideways at her. ‘Didn’t you enjoy yourself?’

  ‘To be honest, I was rather bored. And Tom hardly looked at me. He was too busy composing his silly song with you!’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. But it’s only the first proper rehearsal,’ Rose consoled her. ‘There’s still plenty of time for him to notice you.’

  Daisy looked at her friend closely, but Rose’s smiling face gave nothing away.

  ‘You’re not interested in Tom Armstrong yourself, are you?’ she blurted out.

  Rose stared at her, astonished. ‘No, of course not. Why would you even ask such a thing?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged. ‘It was just something Philips said …’

  ‘I wouldn’t take any notice of what Philips says,’ Rose dismissed. ‘You know she’d say anything to stir up trouble and upset you.’

  ‘I know, but he seemed to be paying you a lot of attention this evening …’ She felt wretched even saying it.

  ‘He was only being friendly,’ Rose said. ‘Honestly, Baker, you should know I’d never do anything like that.’

  Daisy looked at her friend’s face. Behind Rose’s smile, she could still see the lingering sadness of her loss. She knew it would be a long time before Rose felt anything for another man.

  But even so, when Tom Armstrong sent Daisy a note the following day asking if the three of them could meet up to practise by themselves before the next rehearsal, Rose excused herself.

  ‘You go by yourself,’ she said. ‘I have a ton of revision to get through.’

  Daisy felt a stab of guilt. ‘I don’t mind you coming, honestly,’ she said. ‘I hope you’re not staying away because of what I said last night …’

  ‘No,’ Rose said, ‘but I do want to study. Besides, this will give you a chance to be alone with him so you can make him succumb to your womanly wiles!’ Her eyes gleamed with mischief.

  Daisy grinned. ‘I’ll do my best!’

  Not that Tom seemed remotely interested in any of her wiles, womanly or otherwise.

  ‘Where’s Rose?’ were his first words when Daisy arrived.

  ‘She’s studying.’

  Tom looked put out. ‘Perhaps we should postpone our practice till another day if she can’t join us?’

  ‘I’m sure we can manage without her just this once,’ Daisy replied through gritted teeth. ‘Besides, we need to practise, don’t we?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Tom agreed. He seemed very grudging about it, much to Daisy’s annoyance. She couldn’t help feeling a stab of annoyance towards Rose, too, even though she had done nothing wrong.

  But Daisy was determined to make him forget her friend. For the next hour she flirted with grim determination. She played with her hair, brushed her hand against his, batted her eyelashes until she was seeing double, but to no avail.

  ‘How about if we dance cheek to cheek at this point?’ she suggested desperately.

  Tom frowned. ‘I’m not sure …’

  ‘Let’s try it, shall we?’ Before he had a chance to protest, Daisy launched herself into his arms, pressing her cheek to his so he could feel the softness of her hair against his face and breathe in her new perfume.

  ‘I really don’t think that works,’ Tom said, carefully extricating himself from her grasp. ‘We’re singing about hernias and haemorrhoids, I don’t think it’s necessary to start dancing.’

  Daisy stared at him in frustration. A lesser man might have been brought to his knees by her flirting, but Tom barely noticed. If anything, he seemed rather irritated by her.

  He was simply preoccupied with getting the song right, Daisy decided. She could not allow herself to consider the possibility that he wasn’t interested. There was not a red-blooded young man in London who could resist Daisy Baker once she turned on the charm.

  She knew she should give up on him. But perverse as she was, his lack of interest only increased hers. The more he resisted her, the more she wanted him.

  After the rehearsal, he offered to walk her back to the nurses’ home.

  ‘It’s a shame Rose couldn’t join us,’ he said, as they headed across the courtyard.

  ‘Yes, well, she isn’t really interested in the show at all,’ Daisy replied. ‘I had to force her to do it in the first place.’

  ‘Oh.’ There was no mistaking the disappointment in Tom’s voice. ‘I thought you said she was dead keen?’

  ‘Not really. To be honest, I think she finds the whole thing very tedious.’

  ‘I see.’ Tom paused for a moment, then said, ‘Does she have a boyfriend?’

  Daisy shot a sideways look at him. He was trying to sound casual, but there was no mistaking his interest.

 
‘No,’ she said, then added, ‘she was engaged to be married, but her fiancé was killed in a bombing raid last Christmas.’

  ‘Ah.’ Tom’s face fell. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  ‘Yes,’ Daisy said, warming to her theme. ‘She’s still completely distraught, as you can imagine. Utterly heartbroken. She hasn’t looked at another man since, and I don’t think she ever will.’

  ‘Right. I see.’

  Daisy looked at Tom’s crestfallen expression and felt a jab of satisfaction. She might not be able to pique his interest herself, but at least she could stop him being interested in anyone else.

  It was the truth, anyway, she told herself. Rose had said that she wasn’t remotely interested in Tom Armstrong. All she had done was save her friend the embarrassment of having to give him the brush-off.

  Rose was sitting on her bed, surrounded by open textbooks. She was busy making notes, but she put down her pen when Daisy walked in.

  ‘How did it go with the dashing doctor?’ she asked.

  ‘Very well,’ Daisy said, turning away to take off her coat so Rose wouldn’t see her expression.

  ‘Oh, come on! You must give me more details than that. I’ve been wrestling with the digestive system all evening, I need cheering up.’ She leaned forward, her expression avid. ‘Did you flirt with him madly?’

  Daisy forced a smile. ‘He flirted with me,’ she said. ‘And we danced cheek to cheek, too. I practically had to fight him off.’

  ‘You see?’ Rose said, delighted. ‘I told you he likes you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Daisy said, with no conviction at all. ‘Yes, I think he does.’

  She thought she had managed to warn Tom Armstrong off, so she was surprised to see him talking to Rose after his rounds the following morning. Luckily for them, Sister had retreated to her sitting room with her morning tea; her good mood of the previous two weeks seemed to have evaporated, and she was back to her sour, sniping old self again.

  She didn’t see her friend again until they were doing the beds and backs round later. Daisy waited for Rose to tell her all about her meeting with Tom. Surely she would be keen to mention it, knowing Daisy’s interest in the man? But Rose was very quiet as they went about their work.