Kathleen sat in one of the armchairs, her knees almost touching James’s as they toasted each other with a glass of sherry.
‘To a good night’s work,’ he said. ‘Thank you for coming with me. I couldn’t have managed it without you.’
‘I’m glad I was there. After all the death we’ve seen recently, it makes a nice change to bring a life into the world.’
‘Even so, it took a lot of courage to head out in the middle of an air raid.’ He regarded her over the edge of his glass. ‘Didn’t I say you were brave?’
Kathleen blushed, remembering how she’d crumbled in front of him. She could still feel the imprint of his hand on hers.
She turned away, changing the subject. ‘I see you’re still sleeping down here,’ she commented, nodding towards the mattress on the floor. ‘I suppose you’ve had a few late nights in Theatre recently?’
‘Actually, I’ve left my wife.’
Kathleen whipped round to face him. ‘Oh, God, I had no idea. Why didn’t you say something when I asked about her earlier?’
‘I didn’t feel it was the right moment.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It’s something I should have done a long time ago, if only I’d had the courage.’ He took a steadying gulp of his drink.
‘So why now?’ Kathleen asked.
He paused for a while, considering. ‘I suppose the war made me realise that life is too short to spend it with the wrong person,’ he said at last.
His eyes met hers, a look so sudden and unexpected it caught her unawares. Kathleen tightened her hands around her glass to stop them trembling.
‘What will you do now?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted heavily. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Simone can have everything. It’s all she’s ever been concerned about anyway. We’ll live apart until she can sue me for desertion. Unless she gets bored and decides to commit adultery, of course.’ Something about the way he said it made Kathleen think that it wouldn’t be for the first time.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘No matter what the circumstances, it can’t be easy to end a marriage. After all, there must have been some happy times?’
‘Must there?’ he said bleakly. ‘I don’t think either of us has been happy for a very long time. In fact, it dawned on me that the happiest moments I’d had recently were the ones I’d spent with you.’
The air was suddenly sucked from the room, making it difficult for her to breathe.
He must have noticed Kathleen’s stunned expression because he said wryly, ‘I think we had better call it a night, before I tell you how I feel about you and frighten you off for ever. If I haven’t terrified you enough already.’
There it was. The moment when Kathleen knew she should put down her drink, bid him a polite goodnight and then close the door on what might have been. But instead she stayed rooted to the spot.
‘Do I look terrified?’ she said.
Hope sparked in his eyes, nearly breaking her heart. ‘Do you mean it?’ he whispered.
Once again, she knew she should go, do the sensible thing. But the pull of attraction was too strong for her to resist.
She thought about the woman’s words, back at the house where they’d delivered the baby.
Perhaps this next year will bring us all something good.
It was about time, Kathleen thought. She had spent too long alone, doing her duty. She was tired, and she was lonely, and she yearned for someone to spend her life with.
James Cooper was watching her, his gaze melting into hers.
‘So what are we going to do about it?’ he asked softly.
Chapter Forty-Seven
IT CAME AS a surprise to Dora’s family when she announced she was going back to work at the Nightingale at the beginning of January.
‘What made you change your mind?’ her mother asked.
‘I just think it’s about time I made myself useful again,’ Dora replied. She didn’t try to explain that it was a random snatch of song she’d heard from a workman that had convinced her it was the right thing to do. Her mother would think she’d gone potty, and even Dora wasn’t so sure when she stopped to think about it.
But in spite of the sign she had been given, it was still a wrench for her to leave the twins. She’d already come close to losing them once. Was it tempting fate too much to leave them again? she wondered.
It was only the fact that she’d given her word to Matron to return to the Nightingale that made her leave the house on that cold, dark January morning. The twins were already awake in bed, laughing and waving their arms at nothing, and chattering in their own funny language.
‘I’ll be back soon, I promise,’ Dora whispered, planting kisses on their fat cheeks. As she pulled away, she noticed Raggy Aggy’s woolly head poking out from under the covers. Where had she come from? Dora wondered. She hadn’t been able to find her anywhere when she’d put the twins to bed the previous night.
She must have been lost in the bedclothes all the time, Dora decided, tucking the doll under Winnie’s arm.
Matron had assigned her back to the Male Acute ward, which had thankfully emerged from the basement and was now in one of the newly restored ground-floor wards. Sister Holmes was in high spirits as she inspected her new home, filling the linen stores and cupboards and directing the porters around as they wheeled in the beds.
‘Although goodness knows how long we’ll be allowed to stay here this time,’ she said to Dora. ‘I daresay we’ll be back in the basement before the month is out. Honestly, I can’t keep up with it all. One minute we’re upstairs, then we’re down. Another minute we have so many patients we’re having to put extra beds in the corridor, the next we’re packing them all off on a bus to the country while we sit twiddling our thumbs! Still, we’re here for the time being,’ she said. ‘I suppose we must be grateful for small mercies. And at least now I have a properly trained staff nurse to assist me again, which is something,’ she added.
Dora glanced at Daisy Bushell, who was busy polishing the bed frames. Her face was red with effort, loose locks of fair hair falling into her eyes. ‘Has Bushell not been very helpful, Sister?’ she asked.
Sister Holmes sent her a withering look. ‘Bushell,’ she said, ‘is as much help as a leaky bedpan. But what she lacks in skill she makes up for in enthusiasm, I suppose. Which is more than can be said for Jennifer Caldwell.’ She counted another pile of towels and ticked them off on her list. ‘You do know Caldwell is also joining us today?’ she said.
‘No, I didn’t, Sister.’
‘Indeed. Matron has seen fit to bless us with Miss Caldwell’s presence again.’ Sister Holmes finished counting the pile of pillowcases, then frowned and started again. ‘She seems to think the girl would benefit from being in familiar surroundings, given everything that has happened to her.’ She finished her counting for the second time and put another tick on her list.
‘Why? What happened to her, Sister?’
‘Oh, of course. You won’t have heard, will you? The poor girl was injured in a bomb blast. Ended up with a fractured skull and some very nasty scarring from the falling glass. Quite honestly, I’m surprised she wants to see another hospital, after spending so long as a patient. But I suppose we all have to do our bit, don’t we? Now, are these the only drawsheets we have? I thought I’d ordered more.’
If Sister Holmes hadn’t warned her Jennifer Caldwell was coming, Dora would never have recognised her. She barely knew the withdrawn young girl who reported for duty. Unlike the Jennifer Caldwell who used to burst into the ward at least ten minutes late every morning, wearing an incorrigible grin and last night’s make-up, this version seemed to shrink before Dora’s eyes, standing quietly with one hand pressed to her cheek as Sister handed out the work lists.
But it was her eyes that Dora noticed, far more than the pinkish scars that peppered her thin cheeks. The pretty green eyes that had once sparkled with laughter and defiance were now fille
d with sadness and defeat.
‘Welcome back, Caldwell,’ Dora greeted her.
‘Thank you, Staff.’
‘I heard about what happened to you. I’m sorry.’
‘And I’m sorry for you, too, Staff. About your husband’s brother, I mean.’
Dora tensed against the swift dart of pain. ‘So what made you decide to come back?’ she asked.
Jennifer’s expression was stony. ‘My dad,’ she said shortly. ‘He told me I had to come. I tried to find other work, but there was none available.’
Dora saw the way her head hung down, as if she couldn’t bring herself to face anyone, and understood.
‘I’m sure we can find something useful for you to do here,’ she said.
But as the day wore on, Dora found she missed Jennifer’s merry laughter that used to ring out down the ward, bringing Sister Holmes scuttling angrily from her office more often than not. There was no laughter now, and no flirting as Jennifer silently set about her work. Even Daisy Bushell kept out of her way after her first attempts at conversation were met with snappish replies.
Dora watched Jennifer thoughtfully. She kept her head down as she worked, never making eye contact with anyone, her jaw set, as if grim determination alone could get her through the day.
‘And to think I was worried she might be too lively!’ Sister Holmes said. ‘Now it seems we have the opposite problem. Oh, well, as long as she gets on with her duties and doesn’t upset the patients, I suppose we’ll just have to tolerate it.’
But the patients had other ideas.
‘Cheer up, love, it might never happen!’ one of the young men called out to Jennifer as she helped serve the midday meal.
She stared at him blankly. ‘I beg your pardon?’
It was the first time Dora had heard her utter more than a word since she’d come on duty, and she looked up from doling potatoes on to plates to listen.
‘I said cheer up,’ the young man said, less sure of himself now. ‘You’re far too pretty to be miserable—’
He didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence. Jennifer slammed his plate down hard on his bed table, splashing soup all over his covers. Then she turned on her heel and stalked off down the ward.
Dora thrust the plate and serving spoon into Daisy Bushell’s hands and hurried over to where the young man sat, looking bewildered.
‘I didn’t mean to upset her,’ he said. ‘I was only trying to make her smile.’
‘I know,’ Dora reassured him. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong, she’s just in a funny mood, that’s all. Let me go and fetch a cloth to clean you up.’
She found Jennifer in the kitchen. She was leaning against the sink with her back to the door, her slim shoulders heaving.
‘What was that about?’ Dora asked. ‘You’re lucky Sister didn’t see you, she would have torn you off a strip.’
‘He was making fun of me.’
‘No, he wasn’t. Why would you think that?’
‘You heard him. He called me pretty.’ Jennifer’s voice was dull, flat.
‘That’s hardly making fun of you.’
‘Isn’t it? Look at me!’ She swung round, her face wet with tears.
Dora regarded her steadily. ‘I am looking at you,’ she said.
‘I’m hardly pretty, am I?’ Jennifer’s voice was hard with self-mockery.
Dora suddenly understood. ‘You know, you can hardly see the scars.’
‘Of course you can see them!’ Jennifer snapped back. ‘I look like a freak!’
‘No, you don’t. Have you seen yourself lately?’
Jennifer turned away, her back to Dora. ‘I never look at myself. Not any more.’
‘Then it’s about time you did.’ Dora snatched up the small mirror propped on the window sill and thrust it at her. ‘Go on, take a look.’
Jennifer hung her head so her chin was pressed against her chest. ‘I don’t want to.’
‘Go on!’ Dora grabbed the girl roughly by the shoulders and tried to turn her, but Jennifer averted her gaze from the glass. Her face was so twisted with pain and emotion that Dora gave up. The girl had already been through enough.
She laid the mirror face down on the draining board. ‘You should take a look,’ she said quietly. ‘Perhaps if you did, you might see what the rest of us are seeing.’
Chapter Forty-Eight
‘HE’S ASKED YOU out? Oh, that’s wonderful. Of course, I knew he would. I told you he liked you, didn’t I?’
Cissy was as pleased as Eve had known she would be. All morning she had waited to tell her friend the good news, hugging the secret to herself until they were sitting in the students’ kitchen, watching Sister Parker the Sister Tutor demonstrating how to make various invalid drinks.
‘When?’ Cissy wanted to know. ‘Where is he taking you? Do you know what you’re going to wear?’
Eve laughed, fending off the questions. ‘I don’t know,’ she confessed. ‘I think we’re going out to dinner.’
‘Dinner, eh? I bet it’ll be somewhere posh.’
‘Do you think so?’ Eve chewed her lip anxiously.
‘Don’t look so worried about it.’ Cissy grinned at her. ‘I bet there are a lot of girls who’d love the chance of a romantic dinner with Dr Jameson!’
‘But I’ve never been out with anyone before. How will I know what to do, what to say? What if I make a fool of myself?’
‘You won’t.’ Cissy patted her hand kindly. ‘You’ve got me to help you, haven’t you? We’ll meet up one night after work and talk about it. We can decide what you’re going to wear. I expect I’ve got something you can borrow . . .’
Eve went back to her notes, feeling pleased with herself. Truth be told, she had been more excited about the prospect of telling Cissy that Simon Jameson had asked her out than actually going on the date. The idea of going out with the handsome houseman filled her with dread.
But Cissy was pleased, which was the main thing. Eve basked in the glow of her friend’s approval.
Once Sister Parker had taught them the intricacies of beef tea, peptonised milk and Imperial drink, it was time to return to the Casualty department. As they stepped out into the crisp January day, Cissy whispered, ‘Actually, I’ve got some news myself. Can you keep a secret?’
Eve looked at her, intrigued. ‘You know I can. What is it?’
‘I’m engaged.’
Eve stopped dead. ‘What? When?’
‘Paul telephoned me last night. I know it’s not exactly a romantic proposal, but he wants us to get married on his next leave.’
‘When’s that?’
‘I don’t know, that’s the trouble. He won’t know either, until the last minute. But it probably won’t be until the spring at least.’ Laughter burst out of her. ‘Can you imagine? I’m getting married!’
‘I’m so pleased for you, I really am. But why do you want to keep it a secret?’ Cissy had waited so long for Paul to pop the question, Eve imagined she would want to shout the news to the world.
Cissy’s pretty face creased in a frown. ‘It’s Jennifer,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure how she’ll take the news. She’s been in such a funny mood lately.’
‘You haven’t told her?’ Cissy shook her head. ‘But I thought she’d be the first to know.’
‘She would have been – once. But you know what she’s like. I can’t even talk to her these days.’
Jennifer Caldwell had come back to work a fortnight ago, but in all that time they’d hardly seen or spoken to her. She kept herself to herself. They didn’t even see her at mealtimes, as she only came to the dining room when most of the nurses had gone.
Cissy had tried to be friendly, chatting to her and inviting her out with them when they went to the pictures. But Jennifer always refused, and in the end Cissy had given up asking.
‘But surely she’ll be pleased for you, if she’s your friend?’ Eve said.
‘I’d like to think so, but I’m just not sure.’ Cissy looked wistful. �
��We’d always talked about getting married, you see, and how we’d have our weddings at the same time. Although between you and me, I reckon Jen always thought she’d be the first. She was always the first to do everything, you see.’ She smiled sadly. ‘But now, after what’s happened to her – I’m just worried she’ll be hurt, that’s all.’
‘She’s bound to find out sooner or later.’
‘I know, but I want to wait until I can find the right way to break the news to her. You promise you won’t say anything?’
‘Cross my heart.’
Cissy grinned. ‘At least I can talk to you,’ she said. ‘I’ve been dying to have a good natter to someone about it. You know me, I’m not one to keep things to myself!’
The next minute they were deep in discussion about dresses, and flowers, and what kind of wedding Cissy wanted. But excited as she was, all the time Eve was painfully conscious that Cissy would rather have been discussing all the details with Jennifer.
She liked to think she had finally won Cissy’s friendship, but Jennifer’s larger-than-life presence still loomed like a shadow over them. If they were at the pictures or visiting the fair, Cissy would say, ‘Oh, Jen would love this,’ or, ‘That was always Jen’s favourite.’ Or, if they were having a heart-to-heart, she would chime in with, ‘Jen always used to say . . .’ as if Jennifer’s opinion was the only one that counted. Eve tried not to mind, but at the same time she couldn’t help feeling resentful that Cissy missed Jennifer so much. It made her feel as if she wasn’t quite good enough to fill the other girl’s shoes.
After they’d finished for the day, Eve returned to the vicarage. The Stantons were out visiting family in Essex, except for Oliver, who was at work. But as usual Mrs Stanton had left Eve a cold supper in the kitchen.
She smiled at the sight of the snowdrops sticking out of the tiny bud vase that Mrs Stanton had set on the tray for her. She had grown so fond of the Stantons in the four months she had been living with them. Her aunt still regularly reminded her that she wasn’t part of their family and had no right to be there, but Eve still couldn’t help feeling as if she belonged. Given from Christian charity or not, it was the closest to a loving home she had ever known.
Nightingales at War Page 31