Nightingales Under the Mistletoe (36 page)

Grace must have been waiting for her, because when Daisy emerged from the bathroom to collect her patient her sister fell into step beside her.

‘How long is this going to go on for?' she said in an undertone. ‘I've said I'm sorry.'

‘Sorry isn't good enough.'

Daisy wasn't sure she would ever get over the shock of her sister's betrayal. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw herself walking into the village hall and finding Grace wrapped in Max's arms.

Grace sighed. ‘I wish you'd come home, Daisy. I miss you.'

‘You should have thought about that before you did what you did, shouldn't you?'

‘Walter and Ann really miss you too. They keep asking after you, and I don't know what to tell them.'

‘How about the truth? That you stole my boyfriend and ruined my life?'

Grace winced. ‘I didn't steal him. He came to me.'

‘Yes, but you encouraged him, didn't you? Making eyes at him, inviting him round for tea, getting him to help around the house just so you could be alone with him.'

‘That's not true!'

‘Nurses?' Miss Wallace's voice rose behind them. ‘Keep your family tiffs off my ward, if you please!'

‘Yes, Sister,' they chorused dutifully.

‘Now see what you've done!' Daisy hissed. ‘Just leave me alone, Grace. I don't want anything more to do with you!'

She watched her sister walk away, her head hung low. She was upset, but she deserved to be. In the past two weeks, everything in Daisy's life had gone wrong, and it was all Grace's fault.

Moving into the Nurses' Home wasn't what she'd thought it would be. There was no room for her at the hospital Home, so she'd had to move out to the old farm buildings where the London nurses lived. She had imagined it might be fun, but that illusion was quickly shattered when Miss Carrington the Home Sister roused them all at six o'clock and they had to queue for the bathroom in a cold, dark passageway. And then there was the awful ride in Sulley's stinking old cart up to the hospital. After two days, Daisy had begun to think longingly of waking up to one of Grace's home-cooked breakfasts and then strolling down the lane from their cottage to the hospital.

She missed home, and she missed her family. But she couldn't go back, not after what Grace had done to her.

The airman's wounds were awful, far worse than Daisy had imagined. He sighed with relief as she helped him into the saline bath.

‘That's better,' he said. ‘You know, this is the only time in the whole day when I'm not in agony.'

Outside the bathroom, she could hear Sister and Grace laughing and talking with one of the other patients as they did the dressings round.

I hope you'll be as much of an asset to the ward as your sister is
, Miss Wallace had said. It was all wrong. Daisy was supposed to be the clever one, the pretty one, the one who got all the praise. Grace was supposed to be the solid, dependable one. The one no one noticed.

But all of a sudden everyone seemed to be noticing her. She was gaining confidence, coming out of her shell. It wasn't fair, Daisy thought. She wished none of this had happened, that they could have gone on as they were, with Grace tucked away at home, running the house and looking after the family, the way she always had.

Daisy stopped short as a thought occurred to her. She had accused Grace of trying to be like her because she was jealous. It came as a shock to realise that Grace wasn't the jealous one at all.

Sister wasn't pleased with the job Daisy had done on the airman's wounds.

‘Really, Nurse, you should have trimmed the tulle gras dressings to fit,' she'd said. ‘Supplies are so scarce these days, we have to make economies where we can.'

‘Yes, Sister. I'm sorry.'

Grace saw her sister's bowed head and knew poor Daisy was mortified. She wished she could do something to make it better.

But as Daisy had made clear, nothing Grace could do would help. She was the cause of all her sister's misery. Grace despaired of making things right with her. She had hurt Daisy far too badly.

At the end of her duty, Grace went back to the cottage with a heavy heart. It didn't even feel like home now that Daisy wasn't there. She dearly missed her sister's laughter, and her scandalous stories about the other nurses and patients she'd met. She even missed their sisterly bickering. Grace had given up her life so that she could keep her family together, and now she was the one who had driven them apart. The guilt was almost too much for her to bear.

It was raining heavily, sheets of water gushing from the leaden sky, turning the rutted path under her feet to a slurry of reddish-brown mud. Grace kept her head down to avoid the puddles, so she didn't see Max until she was almost at the gate.

He was drenched. The rain had soaked through his leather jacket and flying suit, plastering his blond hair to his head. But he seemed oblivious to it as he walked towards her.

She hadn't seen him since that night at the village hall. For a split second her heart lifted at the sight of him, but she fought down her feelings of joy.

‘What are you doing here?' She tried to keep her voice even. Looking at him, so big and blond and handsome, it was all she could do not to launch herself into his arms. ‘You're soaked to the skin!'

‘I hadn't heard from you … I wanted to make sure you were OK?'

The look of tender concern in his aquamarine eyes nearly undid Grace. She swallowed hard. ‘I thought it would be better if we didn't see each other,' she murmured.

‘Better for who?' he asked. ‘Not for me. Or you either, I'm guessing?'

Grace looked away in case her eyes betrayed her. Of course she was wretched without Max. She loved him. She hadn't wanted to put a name to her feelings until that night in the village hall, but now she realised that she had been falling in love with him since the first time they'd met on Christmas Day.

Not that she would ever have done anything about it. She had buried her feelings for Daisy's sake, told herself it was nothing more than friendship. But that night when he'd kissed her and told her he loved her, Grace had caught a tantalising glimpse of what her life could be like. It wasn't easy to forget.

But she had to forget it, if she wanted to put her family back together.

She moved past him, through the gate. The chickens in the coop clamoured at the sight of her, and the bedraggled cats wound themselves around her legs in greeting.

Max followed her across the yard. ‘Can I come in?' he asked.

She looked at him, the rain dripping off his hair. The idea of being alone with him terrified her, but she couldn't leave him standing out in the rain, either.

‘I suppose you'd better, before you catch your death,' she said.

His presence seemed to fill the house. She was aware of nothing else but him, the rain dripping off his jacket, pooling in puddles on the stone-flagged floor at his feet.

‘Get that wet coat off, I'll fetch you a towel,' she said. She started for the airing cupboard but Max stopped her.

‘Never mind that,' he said. ‘Grace, there's something I need to tell you.'

He sounded so serious, she stopped in her tracks. ‘What?'

‘I'm going home.'

‘Home? You mean back to Canada?'

He nodded. ‘My pal Harry and I have just found out we're being shipped back once this tour's over.'

‘And how long will that be?'

‘Depends. Most likely a couple of months.'

Panic washed over her, but she fought to control it. ‘Well, that's good news, isn't it?' she said brightly.

‘Is it?'

‘Of course. You'll be able to see your family.' Once again, she found she couldn't meet his eye. ‘I'll go and fetch that towel.'

‘I want you to come with me.'

She swung round to face him. ‘Me?'

‘I told you, I love you. I can't stand the thought of leaving without you, of never seeing you again.' He took a step towards her, his face bright with hope. ‘I want to marry you – if you'll have me?'

The shy way he looked at her from under his lashes nearly tore her heart out. ‘Me? Go to Canada?'

‘You'd love it,' he promised her. ‘And my family would love you, too. Well?' he said. ‘What do you say?'

What a question! A million things were racing through her mind, and she didn't know what to say first.

But one question was uppermost.

‘What about the kids?' she asked.

‘They could come too,' Max said. ‘Walter and Ann would love it out there. We could stay on my family's farm until we get a place of our own.'

‘What about Daisy?'

He stifled a sigh. ‘Daisy is old enough to take care of herself.'

Grace shook her head. ‘I couldn't leave her.'

‘Grace, she's not a kid any more. She doesn't need your protection.'

She thought about Daisy, so angry and defensive on the ward that afternoon, lashing out in pain. She had seen the hurt in her sister's eyes, and knew that being separated from her family was killing her as much as it was killing Grace.

If Max thought that Grace would just abandon her, then he didn't know her very well.

‘I can't,' she said.

‘Why not?' There was an impatient edge to his voice. ‘I'm offering you the chance of a new life, Grace. The two of us, starting out together. Why won't you take it?'

She wanted to. God knows, she couldn't think of anything she wanted more than to be with Max, wherever in the world it happened to be.

But she had made a promise to her mother on the day she died that her family would always come first, no matter what.

‘I'm sorry.' It was all Grace could manage. If she'd tried to say any more she would have started to cry, and she didn't want that. She had to stay strong.

Max looked at her, his face full of sorrow. ‘So am I,' he said.

IT WAS GOOD
to see Sarah Newland looking so much better.

The colour had returned to her freckled cheeks as she lay propped against the pillows in the maternity ward. She was holding her baby daughter in her arms, her hard features softened by maternal pride.

‘The midwife says she's doing well, considering she was born so early', she told Jess when she went to visit her.

‘She was certainly in a hurry to get here.' Jess put out her finger for the baby to grasp. ‘Once she'd made up her mind, there was no stopping her!'

‘She's determined, like her mum!' Sarah smiled down at the infant.

‘Have you thought of a name yet?'

‘I thought I might call her after you?'

Jess stared. ‘Me?'

‘It's the least I can do. You've been such a good friend to me, helping me out.' Sarah lowered her gaze. ‘I know I didn't deserve it, after the horrible things I said to you.'

‘It's all forgotten,' Jess said. ‘I'm just glad we were there to help. Although I'll never forget Miss Carrington's face when you turned up on the doorstep!'

‘I didn't know where else to go,' Sarah said. ‘I knew if I tried to make it to the hospital, this little one would probably be born in the middle of the road!'

Jess looked at the baby's tiny starfish hand, clamped around her finger. Little Jess. The thought touched her.

‘Have they said when you might be able to go home?' she asked.

‘The end of the week, if I'm lucky. I can't wait. No offence to this hospital, but there's nothing like being in your own place, is there?'

Jess pictured Sarah's rundown little cottage. Beauty really must be in the eye of the beholder, she thought.

Then her thoughts turned to Mrs Huntley-Osborne's grand house. It was so warm, and spacious, the perfect place for a baby …

‘No word from her grandmother, I suppose?' She hadn't mentioned it before, she had wanted to wait until her friend was well enough. And she had also hoped that the pair might sort out their differences by themselves.

Sarah's gaze shot up to meet hers. ‘How did you know?'

‘It wasn't difficult to work it out. When you asked me to take the ring back, and I saw all those photographs of Clifford …' She looked down at the baby. ‘She looks just like him.'

‘Doesn't she?' Sarah's fond smile hardened. ‘But no, Mrs Huntley-Osborne hasn't been in touch. I can't say I expected her to be. She'd already made her feelings plain enough the day she threw me out of her house.'

Jess said nothing, but deep down she felt disappointed. She had seen a different side to Mrs Huntley-Osborne, a glimpse of humanity under that stiff mask she wore. The way she'd asked about Sarah and the baby, with so much genuine concern, Jess had been convinced she would offer an olive branch to the girl.

But no such luck. Mrs Huntley-Osborne had obviously decided that saving her own face was more important than saving her family.

‘Anyway, we don't need her,' Sarah went on defiantly. ‘Little Jess and I will be all right by ourselves. Ain't that right, love?' She kissed the top of her baby's head.

Jess smiled. I hope you're right, she thought. But she couldn't help fearing for her friend. If Sarah had felt isolated by the community before, how would they treat her now she was an unmarried mother in their midst?

No sooner had Jess arrived back on the ward, than Sister Allen sent her straight off to see Matron.

‘Oh, dear, what have you done now?' Effie grinned at her.

‘Search me.' Not that she had to do anything wrong to be in Miss Jenkins's bad books. Her very existence seemed to be enough of a crime. ‘But knowing Matron, I expect she's got some nice surprise lined up for me,' Jess added grimly.

And she was right. ‘Ah, Nurse Jago.' Miss Jenkins regarded her across the desk. ‘I'm putting you back on the Fever Wards for night duty as from this evening. Go back to your ward until midday, then return to the Nurses' Home and report for duty at eight.'