The Nightingale Nurses (25 page)

He knew what he was doing, all right, Dora thought. Two weeks after the ball, and she was still reliving what had happened that night. God only knew how far Joe would have gone if she hadn’t fought him off.

But he was sorry for it now. The day after the ball he had turned up at the hospital gates to see her, but Mr Hopkins had turned him away at the Porters’ Lodge. Since then Joe had sent her notes and telephoned the nurses’ home so many times that Dora had started to jump every time she heard the jangle of the bell in the hall.

And now he’d appealed to Katie for help.

‘I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.’ O’Hara shrugged. ‘All he did was get a bit fresh with you. All men try it on.’

Dora felt herself blushing as several pairs of interested eyes turned in her direction.

She put down her fork. ‘Look, I know Tom’s asked you to put in a good word for Joe, but you’re wasting your time. As far as I’m concerned, it’s over. So do me a favour and stop discussing my private business in front of everyone!’

Katie looked hurt. ‘You’ll regret it,’ she mumbled. ‘Joe Armstrong’s a good catch.’ Dora kept her head down and didn’t reply. ‘I’m only saying—’

‘Well, don’t,’ Millie cut in. ‘Could we talk about something else, please? I don’t know about you, but I’m finding this constant talk about Doyle’s love life rather tedious.’ She skewered a lump of gristle on the end of her fork and held it up for closer inspection. ‘Could someone tell me what this meat we’re eating is supposed to be?’

‘Beef,’ someone said.

‘Rabbit?’ suggested another.

‘One of old Latimer’s patients!’ someone else chimed in, and soon there was a lively debate around the table.

Dora shot a quick, grateful look at Millie. She might seem a bit flighty at times, but she knew how to smooth ruffled feathers.

‘Which drugs or agents could be locally applied to check haemorrhage?’

‘Let’s see . . . there’s adrenalin, tannic acid, gallic acid, turpentine, hamamelis . . .’ Helen took the dripping flannel out of the bowl of iced water and wrung it out. ‘Cautery, of course, then heat, cold, and . . .’ she paused for a moment to think, then it came to her ‘. . . hydrogen peroxide,’ she finished. ‘There. How did I do?’

‘Word perfect, as usual.’ Charlie looked up admiringly from the textbook. ‘How do you remember all those complicated words?’

‘I’ve had three years of practice. And I study a lot.’

‘I’m surprised you have any time, what with working nights and spending all day with me. I hope you’re not wearing yourself out?’

‘Don’t be silly. I want to be here.’

‘All the same, I’d hate to think I was keeping you from your revision . . .’

‘What do you think we’re doing now?’ Helen nodded towards the textbook. ‘Now hold still while I put this on for you.’

He submitted meekly, lifting his chest for her to apply the cold compress to his swollen throat.

She didn’t tell him about the telephone call she’d had with her mother the previous day. Constance had telephoned the nurses’ home because she had heard Charlie was unwell.

At first Helen thought she might have called because she was worried about him. But Constance’s first words had soon dismissed that hope.

‘I trust you’re not neglecting your studies to spend time with him?’ Her voice was sharp with reproof. ‘May I remind you, Helen, you have your Finals coming up in October. I wouldn’t like to think of three years’ study going to waste because you have your mind on other things.’

It had taken all Helen’s forbearance for her to make the right noises and assure her mother that she was glued to her books, when deep inside she felt a slow burn of resentment. Not once had Constance asked how Charlie was feeling.

‘Helen?’ She came back to the present to find him watching her. ‘You’re looking very serious all of a sudden. What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’ She forced a smile and took away the compress. ‘There, how does that feel now?’

‘Better, thank you. But you really don’t have to nurse me, you know. My mum’s bad enough, flapping around like a headless hen!’

‘Oi! I heard that!’ Nellie Dawson bustled into the room carrying a fresh jug of water. ‘Any more lip from you, young man, and I’ll pack you off back to your bedroom.’

‘Don’t do that!’ Charlie groaned. ‘I don’t think I could stand looking at those four walls any longer!’

Since he was no longer infectious, Nellie had moved her son down to sleep on the settee in the front parlour. At least he could feel part of the family again, although Helen knew he was restless to be up and about.

‘How is the patient?’ Nellie asked Helen.

‘He’s doing well,’ Helen replied. ‘His temperature is normal, and the swelling seems to be going down, doesn’t it?’

His mother nodded. ‘And I’ve been using that antiseptic lotion for the rash, like you said.’

‘Will you two stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here?’ Charlie glared from one to the other. ‘I told you, I’m fine. Anyway, I’ve got to be up and about by August Bank Holiday, because I’ve got a surprise planned,’ he went on.

Helen and Nellie looked at each other. ‘What kind of surprise?’ Helen asked.

‘We’re going on an outing.’ Charlie beamed at them both. ‘I’ve booked us all on the works charabanc to Southend. I thought Dad could mind the stall, and you could bring the kids, Mum. You deserve a treat, what with me being laid up and everything.’

‘Ooh, lovely! I haven’t had a trip to Southend in years.’ Nellie sighed with pleasure. ‘The kids will be pleased an’ all.’

Charlie looked at Helen. ‘I reckoned you could do with a break, too. You’ve been working so hard lately. You’ll be able to come, won’t you?’

Helen hesitated. Her mother would absolutely forbid it.

‘Try and stop me!’ she grinned.

‘That’s settled, then.’ Charlie looked pleased with himself. ‘Right, we’d best get back to work.’ He picked up the textbook. ‘We’ve got a lot to do, if you’re going to pass these exams.’

DORA HAD NEVER
been to the ballet before. She had never wanted to go, either, but a theatre up west had sent a batch of free tickets to the hospital, and Katie O’Hara had badgered her into going.

Not that Dora had seen much of the show. She was so tired that as soon as the lights dimmed she had sunk down in her seat and fallen asleep. She only meant to close her eyes for a moment to rest them, but the next thing she was waking up with a start to rapturous applause. Katie was on her feet and joining in so enthusiastically, Dora guessed she must have missed a wonderful show.

‘Wasn’t it grand?’ Katie sighed as they sat on the top desk of the bus, heading back to Bethnal Green.

‘Yes,’ Dora lied, turning her head to stare out of the window at the lights of the city.

‘Lane will be sorry she missed it. She’s always going to the ballet with her mother. I expect she’ll want to know all about it.’

‘I expect so.’

Katie hesitated. ‘So . . . could you work out what was going on, exactly?’ she asked.

Dora pretended to think. ‘Well . . . I know there was a lot of dancing,’ she invented. ‘People jumping about, kicking their legs in the air.’

‘And there was that man in the tights,’ Katie put in helpfully. ‘He was quite an eyeful, wasn’t he?’

‘He was indeed.’ Dora racked her brains for something to else to say, then gave up. ‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed. ‘To be honest I nodded off as soon as the flaming thing started.’

To her surprise, Katie laughed. ‘Me too! I was dead to the world from the minute the curtain went up.’

Dora stared at her in astonishment. ‘But you were clapping?’

‘Only because everyone else was!’ They looked at each other and laughed. ‘But I still enjoyed it,’ Katie added. ‘It was the best sleep I’ve had in ages.’

‘Me too!’ Dora agreed. ‘Best not tell Lane that, though, eh?’

‘Oh, Jesus!’ Katie rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘She’s going to ask me all about it. She’s going to want to know every detail!’

‘You’ll have to make it up.’

St Peter’s church clock was striking ten when they got off the bus on Hackney Road.

‘Gawd, we’re so late!’ Dora started to run but Katie didn’t move. She stood at the bus stop, looking around her.

Dora turned back. ‘What are you waiting for?’

‘You’ll see.’ Katie glanced up and down the street. ‘It shouldn’t be long . . . ah, here he is now.’

Dora heard a man’s footsteps striding up the street towards them. She didn’t need to look round to know who it was.

She turned on Katie furiously. ‘You did this deliberately! No wonder you were so keen for me to come out with you tonight.’

‘I’m sorry, but he begged me to do it.’ Katie’s face was full of anguish. ‘He was so upset when you wouldn’t talk to him . . .’

‘
He’s
upset? What about me?’ She quivered with rage, every nerve on alert as Joe approached.

‘Hello, Dora.’

She turned slowly to look at him. He stood there in his police uniform, his head bent. He looked contrite, like a kicked puppy.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Katie said, but Dora stopped her.

‘Oh, no, you don’t! You’re staying here with me, O’Hara.’

Katie’s eyes flew to Joe. ‘But—’

‘I’m not being left alone with
him
.’

Joe sighed impatiently. ‘You’ll be quite safe. I ain’t going to hurt you. All I want to do is apologise.’

‘At least hear him out,’ Katie pleaded. ‘You owe him that much.’

‘I don’t owe him anything!’ Dora thought about telling Katie what he had done, but she probably wouldn’t believe it. Joe Armstrong could do no wrong in her eyes.

‘Please, Dora?’ Joe begged. ‘Just five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.’

She sighed. ‘If I listen to you that long, will you promise to leave me alone afterwards?’

‘If that’s what you want.’

‘But I’m warning you, if you try anything—’

‘I won’t,’ he promised. He looked sick with nerves. Or perhaps he was just remembering that knee she’d delivered to his privates, Dora thought with grim amusement.

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly, after Katie had gone.

‘Don’t get any ideas. I only did it to stop you sending me notes and calling the nurses’ home. The Home Sister’s getting as fed up of it as I am.’ Dora confronted him. ‘It was a low trick, getting O’Hara to do your dirty work for you, though. You ought to know by now I don’t like being forced into anything.’

He winced. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’ He lowered his gaze. ‘I feel so ashamed of the way I behaved that night. I’ve thought of nothing else since.’

‘Me neither,’ Dora muttered.

She started to walk back towards the hospital, and Joe fell into step beside her.

‘It’s not like me.’ The words came out in a rush. ‘I’m not that sort of bloke, honestly. I would never have done something like that if you hadn’t pushed me into it—’

Dora faced him. ‘Are you saying I
asked
to be attacked?’

‘No, no, of course not.’ A blush swept up his face. ‘I’m not saying that. I was just so jealous when I saw you with him . . .’

‘You had no right to get angry. I’m not your property.’

His chin lifted and she caught a glint in his eyes, shadowed by the brim of his helmet. ‘You’re my girl.’

‘No, I’m not. I never was. That’s what I kept trying to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen to me.’

Joe flinched as if she’d slapped him hard around the face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled.

As they crossed the street he went to take her arm and then thought better of it.

‘Can we start again?’ he said. ‘I’m truly sorry about what happened, Dora. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for another chance to prove how much I love you.’

Dora suppressed a sigh. ‘No, Joe.’

‘Just because of one night?’ There was a sudden, sharp edge to his voice.

‘Not just because of that night.’ Dora paused for a moment, searching for the right words. Whatever she said, he chose not to understand her. She had no option but to be blunt, no matter how cruel it might seem. ‘Look, Joe, I don’t want to see you again.’

‘You don’t mean that.’ He stared at her blankly. ‘I love you. I want us to be together.’

‘But I don’t.’

He seemed genuinely confused, as if such a thought had never occurred to him. ‘I can make you happy . . .’

‘You can’t, Joe. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.’

He looked hurt, like a lost little boy. ‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’

‘No,’ she sighed. ‘Why can’t you just accept that I just don’t want to be with you?’

He was silent for a moment. She could see rage like thunderclouds rolling in, darkening his face. Her eyes darted around, looking for places to run.

‘You’re confused,’ he said finally. ‘It’s because of the other night, I’m sure of it. But if you just give me another chance—’

‘For God’s sake, Joe, how many more times do I have to spell it out?’ She stopped talking for a moment. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘What?’ Joe sounded sulky.

‘That noise. It sounded like someone crying out.’

‘It’s probably just someone mucking about.’ No sooner had he said it than a scream tore through the air.

‘That doesn’t sound like mucking about to me.’ Dora lifted her face and began turning slowly to pick up the sound. ‘It came from over there, I think. Near the railway arches.’

‘Dora, wait!’ She heard Joe calling to her as she sprinted in the direction of the sound. A second later he was running too, his footsteps pounding behind her, catching her easily.

She turned the corner and froze. At the other end of the street a gang of men, illuminated by a pool of lamplight, were kicking at something on the ground.

‘Dora, don’t!’ Joe snatched at her sleeve but she shook him off and ran towards them.

‘Oi! What do you think you’re doing?’

They stopped for a moment, all turning towards her, five figures silhouetted against the lamplight. Then they took off and disappeared into the railway arches.

Dora stopped and bent double, fighting for breath. ‘They went that way,’ she panted to Joe, pointing up the street. ‘If you go after them, you’ll corner them under the arches.’

He didn’t move. ‘Joe?’ She frowned at him. ‘Did you hear what I said? Go after them.’