Nightingales on Call (23 page)

‘Well, I don’t like it.’

He frowned. ‘I thought you had a sense of humour?’

‘I do, but that was just cruel.’

‘Then I won’t do anything like it again to you, I swear.’

He held up his hand in solemn promise. Effie hesitated. He was still smirking, and she wasn’t sure if he was joking. But he was right, she had no idea what bus to catch, or if buses even ran at all at that time of night.

Then she looked at his face, so handsome and full of remorse, and allowed herself to smile. ‘I suppose there was no harm done,’ she conceded.

‘Exactly.’ Hugo stepped aside. ‘Now please allow me to take you home, otherwise I won’t be able to live with myself.’

She forgave him on the way back, but only after he’d apologised over and over, and promised never to play such a horrid trick on her ever again.

‘But it was rather funny,’ he said. ‘You should have seen your face. I thought you were going to faint clean away!’

‘So did I.’ Effie smiled reluctantly. ‘Especially when I tripped over that chair!’

By the time they reached hospital, their argument was forgotten. As they said goodnight outside the gates, Effie was trembling.

‘Are you cold, darling?’ Hugo asked.

‘A little.’ She didn’t want to tell him it was anticipation that was making her tremble. He was going to kiss her, she knew it.

‘You’d better go inside, in that case.’

‘Oh, no, I don’t have to go straight away . . .’ She stopped herself.

Hugo smiled. ‘Oh, I think you do, Euphemia. I don’t want your terrifying sisters coming after me, do I? I mean to impress them, you see. Then perhaps they’ll allow me to start courting you.’

‘I don’t care what they say. You can court me whether they like it or not.’ She pressed her lips shut. When would she learn not to open her mouth? Every time she did, she managed to say something awful.

Hugo laughed. ‘I’m delighted to hear it. But I also have an early lecture first thing tomorrow and I don’t think the consultant will be too impressed if I fall asleep. I’ve done it before and frankly it didn’t go down very well.’

He moved closer and Effie closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to descend on hers. But instead he planted the lightest peck on the end of her nose.

‘God, you’re so sweet, Euphemia.’ He shook his head in wonder, and then he was gone.

Sweet? Euphemia watched him sauntering towards the Porters’ Lodge, ready to distract the Night Porter while she sidled past. She didn’t want to be sweet. She wanted to be sophisticated and irresistible, like Greta Garbo.

Fat chance of that, Euphemia O’Hara, she scolded herself.

The nurses’ home was in darkness as she tiptoed towards it, trying not to let her footsteps crunch too much on the gravel. But as she approached it the front door suddenly flew open. Effie froze, helplessly trapped in the light that spilled out from the hallway.

‘What is the meaning of this, O’Hara?’ Sister Sutton’s voice rang out. She stood in the doorway, her bulky frame silhouetted against the light. ‘Do you know what time it is? It’s almost midnight,’ she went on, without waiting for an answer. ‘Nearly two hours after lights out, to be precise. Where have you been until this time, may I ask?’

‘Please, Sister, I’ve—’

‘Oh, don’t bother to tell me, girl, I’m far too tired to listen to you. I don’t take kindly to being kept up at night waiting for students. You can explain to Matron first thing in the morning.’

After that there was no chance of creeping in unnoticed by Katie. She sat up in the darkness as Effie came in.

‘There you are!’ she said. ‘I’ve been worried about you.’

‘Don’t you start.’ Effie put down her bag. ‘I’ve already had a lecture from Sister Sutton.’

‘She caught you, then?’

‘Oh, yes, she caught me all right.’ Effie sat down on her bed and started pulling off her shoes. ‘And she’s sending me to Matron in the morning.’

‘Good,’ Katie said. ‘Perhaps
she
can talk some sense into you.’

Effie peered at her sister in the darkness. Katie didn’t seem nearly as upset about it as Effie had imagined she would. ‘You don’t seem very surprised?’

‘Why would I be? I was the one who told Sister Sutton.’

‘What?’ Effie stopped undressing, one shoe still in her hand.

‘I reported you.’ Katie’s voice sounded prim in the darkness. ‘You wouldn’t listen to me, so I thought you needed to be taught a lesson. I told you I’d do anything to keep you out of trouble.’

‘I wouldn’t
be
in trouble if it wasn’t for you!’ Effie aimed her shoe at her sister’s shadowy shape. It bounced off her shoulder.

‘Ow!’ Katie yelped. ‘You can’t blame me!’

‘I do blame you,’ Effie said. ‘If I’m sent home tomorrow, I’ll blame you for that, too!’

‘
PLEASE, NURSE DOILY,
has Ernest finished with my comic?’

Dora stopped at the foot of Archie’s bed. ‘Hasn’t he given it back to you yet?’ she frowned.

Archie shook his head. ‘He’s had it a while now. I don’t want to trouble him if he hasn’t finished with it. But I’d be much obliged if he did give it back soon.’

‘I’ll look for it straight away, love,’ Dora promised.

There was no sign of Lucy when Dora went into Ernest’s room. He was lying against the pillows, playing Patience on his bed table. He looked blank when Dora asked him about the comic.

‘I finished reading it three days ago,’ he said, with a touch of regret in his voice. ‘I sent it back to him.’

‘Well, Archie says he hasn’t got it.’

‘But I gave it to Nurse Lane.’

‘Perhaps she put it back in your locker?’ Dora had just crouched down to take a look when Lucy walked in with her arms full of fresh bedding.

‘Oh, good, you can help me make up this bed,’ she said. ‘I was going to get one of the pros to help me, but you might as well do it as you’re here.’

Dora stiffened at her careless order. Why did Lucy always act as if she were the senior?

‘Have you seen the comic?’ Ernest asked. ‘I gave it to you to give to Archie.’

‘Oh, that nasty old thing? I took it away and burned it.’

Dora stared at her. ‘You did what?’

‘I asked Sister Parry about it, and she said I should take it down to the stoke hole.’ Lucy put the bedding down and arranged two chairs at the foot of the bed. ‘Right, young man, let’s have you out of here.’

Dora looked at Ernest. He looked back at her, his face aghast. ‘But it belonged to Archie,’ she said.

‘All the more reason it should be thrown on the fire, in that case.’ Lucy shrugged. ‘Really, Doyle, you should know better than to let the children borrow each other’s things. You know what Sister Parry says about spreading germs. I’m surprised she hasn’t told you off about it.’

Dora didn’t reply. Deep down, she knew Lucy was right. But as far as she was concerned, the happiness it had brought a lonely boy outweighed any risk involved.

Ernest broke the silence. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a choked voice.

‘It’s not your fault, love.’ Dora glared at Lucy.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she defended herself.

‘I feel as if it is my fault,’ Ernest said. ‘Shall I go and talk to Archie? I should apologise to him . . .’

‘Certainly not!’ Lucy cut in before Dora could reply. ‘You’re not allowed out of your room. No, Doyle can explain,’ she said, with a malicious little smile. ‘She’s so good with all the children, I’m sure Archie won’t mind if she tells him what happened.’

Dora would willingly have scrubbed a thousand bedpans rather than break the horrible news to Archie. He looked up as she approached his bed. The sight of his face, bright with expectation, nearly broke her heart.

‘Hello, Nurse Doily,’ he greeted her. ‘Has he finished with it?’

Dora took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, Archie,’ she said.

His smile dropped. ‘What’s he done to it? He’d better not have torn any of the pages out.’

‘It wasn’t Ernest’s fault. But I’m afraid your comic got taken away and destroyed.’

Archie’s face was blank with shock. ‘Destroyed?’

‘One of the other nurses took it away. It was an accident,’ Dora said. ‘I’m so sorry, Archie. I’ll see about buying you a new one, I promise.’

‘’S’all right, Nurse.’ Archie’s chin wobbled, and for a moment she thought he was going to cry. But then he took a big gulp and wiped his nose on his pyjama sleeve. ‘Worse things happen at sea, eh?’

The sight of his little set face, so determined not to give in to his sadness, made Dora want to cry herself.

Archie stayed on her mind all day. Whenever she passed down the ward she could see him sitting in bed, staring down at his hands, his face desolate. She was determined to make it up to him, but had a feeling that even a new comic wouldn’t replace the cherished gift.

She was still simmering about it when she joined the rest of her set at the third-year table for supper.

‘You look fed-up,’ Katie commented, as she passed Dora the plate of bread. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I’m just a bit upset about something that happened on the ward today.’

Lucy gave a loud sigh from the other end of the table. ‘Honestly, Doyle, you’re not still going on about that, are you?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘For heaven’s sake, it was only a beastly comic. It’s not as if anyone died!’

‘I know,’ Dora said. ‘But a little boy was still heartbroken. Not that it would matter to you!’

‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Millie jumped in straight away, trying to soothe the situation.

‘It is!’ Dora said. ‘She doesn’t care about the children at all. She’s got no time for any of them.’

Lucy threw down her fork with a clatter. ‘Just because I don’t run around like you, trying to make all the children love me.’

‘No, you don’t. You’re only interested in making Sister Parry love you!’

‘So what if I do try hard? We need good ward reports if we’re going to be invited to stay on here after State Finals. Being nice to some scruffy little urchin isn’t going to get me a staff nurse position after I qualify.’

‘That’s all you really care about, isn’t it? Being the best.’

Lucy shrugged. ‘Why should I want to be anything else?’

‘Just because you come top in your exams doesn’t make you a good nurse,’ Dora muttered.

‘And just because you break all the rules doesn’t make you a good nurse either,’ Lucy shot back. She stood up, pushing back her chair.

‘Aren’t you going to finish your supper?’ Katie asked.

‘I’m not hungry.’

And then she was gone. An uncomfortable silence fell around the table, broken only by the sound of Katie scraping the contents of Lucy’s plate on to her own.

Millie sighed. ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘it’s only another week until our ward allocation finishes. Then you won’t have to work with her any more.’

‘I’m counting the days,’ Dora muttered.

Lucy stomped back to the nurses’ home, still seething.

How dare Dora criticise her, just because she tried hard to do her job? Of course she wanted to be the best. Her parents had always drummed into her that trying hard wasn’t enough. She had to stand out, to shine. Winning was everything in her world.

But the truth was, she was at a loss on the children’s ward. The sight of all those little faces looking up at her so expectantly frightened Lucy more than she wanted to admit. So rather than admit it, she took refuge behind her charts and her medicine trolley, and told herself she was doing a good job.

And as for that wretched comic . . . why did Dora have to keep going on about it? However she might try to cover it up, Lucy did feel guilty about her actions. She didn’t deliberately set out to upset a child. Left to her own devices, she might have apologised to Archie, even bought him a comic to replace the one she’d destroyed. But Dora went on about it as if Lucy had committed the worst sin in the world, which only made her more determined to defend herself.

At least it wouldn’t be for much longer, she comforted herself. Another week and she would be assigned to a new ward. Hopefully one where she didn’t have to watch Dora Doyle charming everyone all day long.

She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts she didn’t notice the tall figure waiting under the arch that led to the nurses’ home, until he stepped into her path and she almost walked into him.

‘Miss Lane?’

She recognised his voice first, that lazy American drawl so deep it seemed to come from his boots. She looked up and found herself staring into the disarmingly handsome face of Leo Alderson.

‘Do you remember me?’ he said. ‘We met at your parents’ soirée back in April.’

‘How could I forget?’ Lucy smiled to cover the nervousness that suddenly raced like fire through her veins. ‘What are you doing here, Mr Alderson? Are you sick or injured in some way? Only the Casualty department is over there . . .’

‘I don’t need a doctor, thank you. I’m here to see you.’

‘Me?’ Panic fluttered in her chest. ‘Whatever for?’

Leo sent her a long, appraising look. ‘Is it true your father’s disappeared?’ he asked.

For a moment Lucy couldn’t speak. She was conscious of him watching her, knowing that every second she stayed silent made him more suspicious.

Finally, she found her voice. ‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she squeaked.

‘Don’t you? I’ve heard rumours Sir Bernard hasn’t been seen around for a while. Which is kind of unusual for a born showman like your father, wouldn’t you say?’ Leo’s brows lifted.

Lucy thought fast. ‘If you must know, he’s in America.’

‘That’s what his friend Mr Bird says too.’

Lucy relaxed. ‘There you are, then. Mystery solved.’

‘Except I’ve been talking to my contacts in the States and no one’s seen Sir Bernard over there either.’

Lucy pulled herself together enough to manage a level of frosty hauteur. ‘America is quite a big place, Mr Alderson. Surely even you don’t know everyone there?’

‘No,’ he conceded, ‘but I know the kind of people your father might need to speak to.’ He paused. ‘You want to know what I think?’

‘No,’ said Lucy, walking away from him.

‘OK, here’s what I think. I think this German deal has gone wrong and he’s fled.’