The Nightingale Girls (37 page)

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Authors: Donna Douglas

BOOK: The Nightingale Girls
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‘She must have slipped out the back way.’

‘Did anyone see her go?’

‘How do you know she’s run away?’

‘I bet she’s just gone down the shops.’

In the middle of it all sat her mother, her face drained of colour.

‘I went up to check on her and she’d gone. She’s taken all her clothes with her.’ Her hand shook as she rubbed her eyes. Dora could tell she was trying hard not to cry in front of the neighbours.

‘We’ll find her, Mum. Don’t worry,’ she said.

Bea came running out of the house. ‘I’ve found a note. It was under her pillow . . .’

Before she could give it to her mother, Alf had snatched it out of her hand. ‘Let me have a look.’ He ripped it open and read it. They all watched in tense silence as his eyes scanned the piece of paper, then handed it over to Rose.

‘She says she thinks we’ll all be better off without her.’ Rose looked up at Dora. ‘Oh, Dor, what can she mean? I know she’s been a bit troublesome lately, but I didn’t know it was this bad . . .’

Her voice trembled and she put her hand over her mouth. Alf came and stood behind her, resting his big paws on her shoulders. ‘We’ll find her,’ he promised. ‘I’ll bring her home to you.’

I bet you were the one who drove her away. Dora stared at him, but he didn’t meet her eye.

‘We should split up into groups and search for her,’ Len Pike suggested. ‘We can cover more ground that way.’

‘Good idea,’ Dora’s brother Peter said. ‘I’ll take the park.’

‘I’ll look in the market,’ said his wife Lily.

‘I’ll go down by the canal,’ Dora said.

‘I’ll come with you.’ She hadn’t realised Nick had come over to her side until she heard his voice behind her.

‘I’ll come too,’ Ruby offered straight away.

‘There’s no need for three of us to go,’ Nick turned to say to her. ‘You’re better off staying here in case Josie comes back.’

Dora saw the narrow-eyed look Ruby gave her, but was too worried about finding her sister to care who went with her.

The traffic seemed more noisy and threatening than usual as they ran down the main road. They vaulted over the low fence and sprinted down the canal path.

‘I should have known,’ Dora said as they ran. ‘I should have known something wasn’t right.’

‘How could you know?’

‘I’m her big sister, I should have been able to see it. She wasn’t herself. But I was so worried about getting to the stupid party, I didn’t think . . .’

‘Leave it,’ Nick said. ‘You’re not doing anyone any good getting yourself in a state. Let’s find her first.’

‘What if we don’t?’

‘Someone will find her. She’s got to be somewhere.’

But what if we’re already too late? Panic made her run through the overgrown grass and weeds on the steep canal bank. She screamed out Josie’s name over and over again, her voice echoing around the factory buildings that edged the narrow ribbon of green, fetid water.

Suddenly Nick grabbed her arm, pulling her back. Dora took one glance at his grim expression and her stomach plummeted.

Turning slowly, she saw what he was looking at. A red shape, arms outstretched, floating face down in the canal.

She recognised Josie’s favourite red coat, the one she would never be parted from.

‘Josie!’ The scream was torn from Dora’s throat. She heard Nick call her name, but was already hurtling down the bank, slipping and slithering on the damp grass. She reached the tow path and, without thinking, pulled off her shoes and dived in.

The water was dark and murky, choked with thick weeds and foul-smelling mud. Dora ploughed through it and grabbed for the coat. Her hand closed around an empty sleeve.

‘Josie!’ She gulped in a mouthful of foul water. The sour, metallic taste made her gag. She could hear Nick calling to her from the bank and tried to make her way towards him. But her feet and clothes snagged on fallen branches, rusting hulks of metal and other old junk lurking forgotten beneath the murky surface, holding her back. She could feel her strength ebbing away as the churning water closed over her head.

Suddenly she felt strong hands gripping her, hauling her out of the water.

Dora sprawled, gasping, on the canal path. She could feel Nick’s arms still wrapped around her. ‘It’s all right,’ he said, over and over again, his voice thick. ‘I’ve got you. You’re safe.’

‘I think I’m going to—’ Dora sat bolt upright as her stomach lurched. She had barely managed to crawl into the long grass before she was violently sick.

Finally, when she was empty and wrung out, she crawled back to where he was waiting for her.

‘S-sorry,’ she said. Her teeth chattered so much she could hardly manage to speak. Cold seeped deep into her bones, making her whole body ache.

‘Here.’ Nick took off his jacket and draped it around her shaking shoulders.

‘Th-thanks.’ Dora tried to stand up, catching her breath as pain lanced through her.

Nick caught her as she stumbled. ‘Your leg’s bleeding,’ he said.

She looked down at the blood trickling from a jagged cut on her calf. ‘I must have caught it on a bit of metal in the water.’ She touched the wound and bit her lip. ‘It’s not too deep, thank heavens.’

‘It’s bad enough,’ Nick said. ‘You need to go to hospital.’

‘Later. I’ve g-got to find Josie first.’ She tried again to stand, but it was too painful. As she stumbled once more, Nick’s arms came around her.

‘You’re in no fit state. Your leg’s in a right old mess. Look at you, you can’t even stand on it.’

‘I told you, I’ll see to it later – Nick!’ she yelped as he picked her up in his arms. ‘What are you doing? Put me down!’

‘I’m taking you to hospital.’

‘No, you’re bloody well not! Put me down!’ Dora hammered on the hard wall of his chest, but he carried on walking, grimly ignoring her blows. ‘I mean it, Nick. I’ve got to look for Josie.’

‘There’s plenty of people out looking for her already. And what good are you going to be, hopping about on one leg?’

‘She’s my sister. I can’t just sit about doing nothing while she’s out there somewhere.’ Dora’s voice caught on the lump in her throat.

‘I’ll find her,’ Nick said softly. ‘I promise you.’ Their eyes met, and she knew he meant every word. With her arms wound around his neck, Dora could feel the warmth of his body, his muscles reassuringly solid. She felt the apprehension ebb out of her.

‘Now,’ Nick said gruffly, ‘for once in your life, will you do as you’re told?’

An hour later Dora was in Casualty, her leg stretched out in front of her as a nurse bathed the wound. She was horribly self-conscious about her wet, filthy dress, and her hair, free from its restraining ribbon, tumbled in a mass of muddy red curls.

‘Ow!’ Dora flinched as the salt water touched her raw flesh.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ The boot-faced staff nurse didn’t look up. ‘Stop making such a fuss,’ she said briskly.

Dora stared at the top of her starched cap and decided she would never, ever tell a patient not to make a fuss again.

The door opened and a bespectacled young doctor came in, stethoscope slung carelessly round his neck.

He looked Dora up and down, taking in her damp, bedraggled appearance. ‘I’m Dr McKay. Would you be the young lady who’s been swimming in the canal, by any chance?’ he enquired in a soft Scottish accent.

‘How did you guess?’ Dora smiled back at him.

‘Years of medical training.’ He examined her leg. ‘Hmm. The wound doesn’t look too bad. Nurse Percival has, as usual, done a grand job of cleaning you up. But I reckon we should still give you a tetanus jab, just to be on the safe side.’

He nodded to the nurse, who went off to prepare the needle. The young man then sat down on a chair beside Dora. ‘So why did you decide to take a dip? High spirits
after the Jubilee, I suppose?’ His eyes behind his spectacles were the warmest brown she had ever seen.

‘My sister went missing.’ She couldn’t stop herself from blurting out the words.

‘Oh.’ Dr McKay looked dismayed. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Has she been found?’ Dora shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. ‘How old is she?’

‘Nearly fifteen.’

Nurse Percival returned with a tray containing the needle. Dr McKay picked it up, his eyes fixed on the narrow point as he gently thumbed the plunger. ‘Now, this may sting a bit . . .’

Dora gritted her teeth and kept her eyes fixed on the wall as the needle went in.

‘There, all done.’ Dr McKay put the needle back on the tray. ‘You were very brave, Miss Doyle.’

‘Thank you, Doctor.’

As Dora reached the door, he suddenly said, ‘She will turn up, you know.’

She turned back to look at him. ‘Your sister,’ he said. ‘She’ll come home as soon as she gets hungry. I dare say it’s just a silly prank.’

He smiled encouragingly, and Dora smiled back. ‘Yes, I expect you’re right. Thank you, Doctor.’

But even as she said it, she knew she didn’t mean it. There had been nothing high-spirited about the look on Josie’s face earlier that day.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

MILLIE SAT DOWN
on the pavement, took off her shoes and massaged her stockinged toes. Standing for hours for a glimpse of the royal procession had been almost as hard on her feet as a twelve-hour shift on the ward.

But she wouldn’t have missed it for the world. It felt as if the whole of London had gathered to celebrate the King’s Jubilee. Crowds lined the streets between Buckingham Palace and St Paul’s Cathedral, old and young, families with their children perched on their shoulders to see the glittering ranks of guards on horseback and the carriages containing the Royal Family. The King was decked out in all his military finery, while Queen Mary looked as regal as ever in a plumed hat, her shoulders shrouded in pale fur. Their sons followed behind in another open carriage together with their wives, all waving as they drove past.

Millie and her friends had managed to find themselves a good spot on the stands close to Admiralty Arch, where they could watch the whole event.

‘Isn’t the Prince of Wales handsome?’ Georgina Farsley sighed, as the carriage rattled past. ‘But he looks so lonely, doesn’t he? His brothers have their wives, and he has no one.’

‘Don’t you believe it,’ grinned Sophia’s fiancé David. ‘He’s certainly not short of female company from what I hear.’

‘Mrs Simpson sees to that,’ Seb added.

Millie had heard her father discussing Wallis Simpson with her grandmother. The future king’s romance with ‘that wretched American’, as the Dowager Countess called her, was the talk of high society. Everyone had hoped that she might prove to be nothing more than a distraction, like Thelma Furness and Mrs Dudley Ward, and that the Prince would eventually grow weary of her. But a year on, her hold only seemed to grow stronger.

‘I can’t see the attraction myself,’ Seb said. ‘She always looks rather cruel to me.’

‘And we all know you prefer blondes!’ Sophia joked. Seb blushed. Georgina tossed her raven locks and looked furious.

‘Daddy says if he doesn’t come to his senses soon it might affect the succession,’ Millie observed.

‘I don’t see why,’ Georgina huffed. ‘He should be allowed to marry whoever he likes.’

‘It’s not that simple,’ Sophia explained patiently. ‘Our King can’t marry a divorcee.’

‘Then the rules should be changed,’ Georgina said firmly.

‘If she really loved him, she’d give him up and allow him to do his duty to his country,’ Millie said.

Georgina glared at her. ‘Wallis Simpson is an acquaintance of my mother’s,’ she said. ‘And believe me, she isn’t ready to give up anyone.’

Millie caught Sophia’s eye as Georgina turned her adoring gaze towards Seb. Poor Seb. Georgina Farsley was just as determined to get her man as Mrs Simpson.

Millie looked around, enjoying the spectacle of the crowds below them, and caught a glimpse of a familiar face across the road. Lucy Lane sat perched high in the stands opposite, beside a very stylish-looking woman in a fitted blue coat – her mother, Millie guessed. Their
miserable faces were a stark contrast to all the cheering and waving going on around them.

Millie was waving her handkerchief and trying to catch her eye when Sophia grabbed her arm. ‘Everyone’s following the procession to the palace,’ he said. ‘Let’s go up The Mall and watch the King come out on to the balcony.’

Afterwards they joined hundreds of other revellers in St James’s Park. It seemed as if no one wanted the party to end. All over the park, people were having picnics, playing games or just lazing on the grass together.

‘Look at you,’ David laughed, as Sophia carefully unpacked the wicker picnic basket. ‘How domesticated you look. You’ll make someone a wonderful wife one day.’ He winked at her.

‘Don’t get too excited, it was our cook who prepared it all,’ Sophia replied, peeling the muslin off a veal pie.

‘Just think, you’ll have a house and staff of your own soon,’ Georgina sighed dreamily.

‘Don’t!’ Sophia shuddered. ‘I’m sure I’ll be a perfectly useless housekeeper. The servants will all bully me mercilessly.’

‘They won’t, because they’ll all adore you far too much.’ David leant over and kissed the end of her nose.

‘Ugh, do you have to?’ Seb grimaced. ‘People in love are rather sickening to watch.’

‘You’re just jealous.’ Sophia screwed up the muslin pie wrapping and threw it at him. ‘You should find a girl of your own, Seb. Then perhaps you wouldn’t be so bitter.’

‘And I don’t think you’d have far to look either,’ David added meaningfully. ‘In fact, I suspect there’s a girl not a million miles away who has claimed your heart already.’

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ Seb replied through tight lips, as Georgina simpered.

‘He shouldn’t tease Seb like that,’ Millie whispered to Sophia as they handed round the plates. ‘You know he’s not keen on Georgina.’

Her friend smiled. ‘I don’t think David was talking about Georgina.’

Before Millie had a chance to reply, a cricket ball whistled past her ear and landed with a smack in the middle of the plate of sandwiches Sophia had just unwrapped, scattering them everywhere.

‘I’m terribly sorry,’ a voice called out. ‘May we have our ball back, please?’

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