Nightingales at War (3 page)

Dora turned away from him, hoping to God Danny wouldn’t see the doubt that flickered across her face. Whatever she felt, she had to be strong for her family. ‘Of course he won’t.’

Danny paused for a moment, and she could see his worried expression as he struggled to take it in. ‘All the s-same, I w-wish he’d stop fighting and c-come home,’ he said at last.

Dora smiled sadly as she folded the shirt.

‘So do I, love,’ she sighed. ‘So do I.’

‘
NO, I’M NOT
having it. No daughter of mine is going to wipe strangers’ backsides!’

Alec Caldwell brought the flat of his hand down on the table, making the cups rattle. He was a big, burly policeman, and his voice filled the tiny back kitchen where the family sat having their tea.

Jennifer regarded him, unperturbed. She was used to her father’s bark, and she knew it was nowhere near as bad as his bite. ‘But it won’t be like that. I’m going to be a proper nurse. They’ll teach us how to give injections and all sorts.’

‘My Aunt Fanny they will! You think they’re going to trust you to stick needles in people, my girl? Mark my words, you’ll be nothing but a skivvy, emptying bedpans and cleaning up God knows what.’

Jennifer wrinkled her nose in disgust. That wasn’t what the nice woman at the Red Cross had said. She’d made it sound as if Jennifer would be saving lives, or at least cooling a few fevered brows. She hadn’t mentioned anything about bedpans.

‘She thinks she’s Florence Nightingale!’ Jennifer’s younger brother Wilf cackled, through a mouthful of bread and dripping.

‘Shut up, you!’ she turned on him. At fourteen, he annoyed her constantly. ‘I’ve got to do my bit, Dad,’ she explained to her father. ‘It’s either that or go into the forces. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?’ she reasoned.

She saw his face go pale, and knew her words had struck home. The thought of his daughter being in danger was almost too much for Alec Caldwell to bear, she could tell. Not that she would join up in a million years. But it was worth mentioning the possibility now and then, just to see her father panic. Bless him, she had been twisting him round her little finger since the day she uttered her first word.

Her mother stepped in. ‘She’s right, Alec. She’s got to do something, now she’s turned eighteen. And there are a lot worse things than nursing. Mrs Armitage’s eldest girl has just joined the WTS. I was talking to her when we were queuing at the butcher’s yesterday. She’s beside herself with worry.’

‘You see?’ Jennifer pushed the forms across the table towards her father. ‘Just sign them for me, Dad. Please?’

Her heart lifted when he picked the papers up, only to plunge when he put them down again. ‘All the same, I still don’t like the idea. That’s not what I brought my daughter up to do.’

‘She ain’t Princess Elizabeth!’ Wilf muttered into his cup.

‘Cissy’s doing it.’ Jennifer refilled her father’s cup, trying to be every inch his dutiful little girl. It wouldn’t do to let frustration get the better of her now. ‘We thought we’d sign up together.’

‘Oh, well, if she’s doing it, you’re going to have to do it too, ain’t you?’ Her father smiled reluctantly. ‘I reckon if she jumped in the Thames, you’d have to follow.’

‘The terrible twins!’ her mother said with a smile.

Jennifer was offended. ‘It was my idea, actually. I’m the one who wanted to do it.’ She and Cissy might be best friends, but everyone knew she was the leader. It had been that way ever since they were kids.

‘And what does Cissy’s father think about it?’ Alec Caldwell asked. ‘Not a lot, if I know him!’ He and Bob Baxter had been friends and neighbours for years.

‘As a matter of fact, he’s all for it,’ Jennifer lied. In fact, she knew Cissy was two doors down, having the same conversation with her own father at that very moment, and probably telling him exactly the same story. That was what they’d planned earlier as they arranged gloves in the glass display cabinets at the draper’s shop where they worked.

‘Is he now?’ Alec Caldwell scratched his chin thoughtfully. Jennifer could see he was wavering, but she also knew that she wasn’t safe yet. One wrong word could still ruin everything. Her father adored her and would never deny her anything, but he couldn’t bear for the wind to blow on her either. He would have wrapped her up in cotton wool for ever if he could.

She looked at her mother, silently appealing to her. If anyone could sway her husband’s opinion, it was Elsie Caldwell.

Sure enough, Alec turned to his wife and said, ‘What do you reckon, Mother?’

Elsie picked up the form and glanced through it. ‘Well, it would be better than her going into the forces,’ she said. Then, before Jennifer could let out her sigh of relief, she went on, ‘It would mean she could stay at home, too, if she got a job at one of the local hospitals.’

Jennifer’s dreams disappeared like a bubble popping before her eyes. ‘I’m not staying at home!’ she blurted out. ‘I want to work at a military hospital!’

That was what had been in her mind when she came up with the idea. She had visions of herself drifting from bed to bed, an angel of mercy bringing light and hope into handsome soldiers’ lives.

‘She wants to find herself a boyfriend!’ Wilf chimed in, ruining her daydream.

‘I thought I told you to shut up?’ Jennifer reached across the table and grabbed his earlobe, twisting it hard until he yelped in pain.

‘Stop it, you two,’ her mother said mildly, offering her husband the plate of bread across the table. ‘Another slice, Dad?’

‘Thank you, don’t mind if I do.’ Her father took some bread and spread dripping on it. ‘And you can pack that in, Wilf,’ he added, pointing his knife at his son. ‘Our Jen doesn’t have boyfriends. She knows she’s far too young for all that.’

Jennifer picked at a loose thread on the chenille tablecloth and avoided her father’s eye. As far as Alec Caldwell was concerned, she was still his little girl and that was the way he liked it. And Jennifer wasn’t about to put him straight either. She didn’t want him putting his big boot down and spoiling her fun.

‘I don’t think I’ll have much choice anyway.’ She shrugged, doing her best to sound nonchalant. ‘I daresay they’ll send me wherever I’m needed.’

‘I’m sure that’s not right, love,’ her mother put in. ‘According to these here forms, you ain’t allowed to serve in a military hospital until you turn twenty. And you can’t be sent overseas until you’re twenty-one.’

‘Let me see that!’ Jennifer snatched the papers from her mother’s hand and scanned them. The nice lady at the Red Cross hadn’t mentioned
that
either.

‘Is that right? Oh, well, if that’s the case . . .’ Her father took the forms from her with a broad smile. ‘Fetch us a pen, Wilf, and I’ll get these signed.’

Jennifer scowled at her mother, who smiled benignly back at her. Trust her to know everything! Elsie Caldwell might not always show it, but she could be very canny when she wanted to be. She also knew everyone from Tower Bridge to the Isle of Dogs, so there was no getting anything past her.

Jennifer lapsed into furious silence, but no one seemed to notice as they went on chatting around the tea table. Her mother was telling them about a row that had broken out in the queue outside the greengrocer’s. Jennifer clattered her cup around in its saucer a few times to draw attention to her frustration, but all her mother said was, ‘Be careful, dear. If that gets broken we ain’t going to replace it in a hurry.’

Jennifer blew out an angry sigh. Until you’re twenty-one . . . It felt as if she’d grown up listening to those words. They drove her mad. She was still almost three years away from that magical day, and it felt like a lifetime.

‘How did you get on?’ Jennifer asked Cissy when they met up later. As usual on a Friday night, they were going dancing at the Palais. It was a wet, dismal night, and they huddled under an umbrella together so they wouldn’t ruin their carefully set curls.

Cissy grinned. ‘My dad was all for it.’

Jennifer stared at her. ‘You’re having me on? What did he say?’

‘He reckoned he quite liked the idea of me being a nurse. “A nice, respectable profession for a young lady,” so he said.’

Jennifer stepped into a puddle and cursed under her breath. She wished she hadn’t decided to wear her new calfskin sandals. They would be ruined in all this rain.

‘I wish he’d talk to my dad,’ she grumbled.

Cissy’s face paled. ‘He didn’t say no, did he?’

‘He might as well have done,’ Jennifer sighed. ‘Did you know we’re not allowed to be mobile until we’re twenty?’

‘No! But I thought we were going to work in a military hospital?’

‘So did I, but we can’t.’ Jennifer stopped to brush splashes of mud from her stockings. ‘I must say, the idea of being a nurse doesn’t appeal to me so much now. I want to look after soldiers, not horrible old men with boils and piles and God knows what else!’

‘Me too.’

Jennifer saw the faraway look come into her friend’s blue eyes and her heart sank. Of course Cissy was thinking about Paul Maynard again. They had been courting for nearly a year, but she never missed a chance to mention his name.

And she was even worse since he’d joined the Royal Navy. Hardly an hour went by when Cissy wasn’t going on about how much she missed Paul, and how worried she was that he was away at sea. The way she went on, anyone would think he was fighting the war single-handed!

Privately, Jennifer thought she was daft to fall in love at such an awkward time. Life was hard enough without pining away and upsetting yourself over a man.

‘Maybe I should join the Wrens instead?’ Cissy mused, as they queued in the rain outside the Palais for their tickets.

‘What?’ Jennifer turned to her, aghast. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘I just want to be closer to Paul.’

‘But what about me?’ The words were out before Jennifer could stop them.

Cissy looked at her blankly. ‘What about you?’

‘I thought we were going to stick together?’

That’s what they’d always done, ever since their mums had parked their prams beside each other in the street. They had sat next to each other all the way through school, then got jobs together at Wells the draper’s on Old Ford Road. They spent practically every waking moment together, laughing and larking about. Everyone called them the terrible twins, even though they didn’t look at all alike. Jennifer had always been jealous of Cissy’s bouncy blonde curls, until she’d seen Vivien Leigh in
Gone with the Wind
and decided that being dark and sultry was far better.

‘You’ll understand when you fall in love,’ Cissy told her.

There was something about the way she said it that irritated Jennifer. Hadn’t they always agreed that neither of them would start courting properly until the other had found a boyfriend? But then Paul came along and swept Cissy right off her feet. And now she was acting as if she was a grown up, and Jennifer was a silly young girl.

But Jennifer’s bad mood lifted as soon as they walked into the dance hall and she heard the band playing. As usual on a Friday night, the place was packed. Groups of soldiers stood at the bar, laughing and drinking and eyeing up the girls. Other people sat at tables around the edge of the room, but most couples were on the dance floor, twirling and whirling in each other’s arms.

Jennifer and Cissy had barely taken off their coats before two soldiers claimed them and led them on to the floor for a foxtrot. From then on, they didn’t stop. They went from one dance to the next, pausing only to change partners. The music was too loud for conversation, but Jennifer didn’t mind. She wasn’t particularly interested in whoever she was dancing with, as long as he didn’t tread on her toes too often. For her, it was all about having fun and forgetting about the boring old war for a while.

She was glad to see Cissy was having a good time, too. The music and atmosphere of the dance hall seemed to have chased all thoughts of Paul out of her mind, and she was more like the happy-go-lucky girl Jennifer used to know, whirling around the dance floor, laughing.

Jennifer was pleased for her friend. She also secretly hoped Cissy might finally realise what she was missing out on, moping after her boyfriend. They were only eighteen, far too young to get serious about anyone. Why tie yourself down when there were so many handsome men in the world to flirt with?

And flirt she did. One young man in particular, a soldier, was especially keen to claim all her attention for himself. Jennifer didn’t mind. He wasn’t her type, but his smart khaki uniform made him seem quite dashing. He bought her drinks, and after a while she danced every dance in his arms, until her new shoes rubbed blisters on her heels and she had to stop.

‘Let’s go outside for some fresh air,’ the young man said. He’d told her his name, but Jennifer hadn’t caught it above the sound of the band playing. It didn’t matter anyway, since she wouldn’t be seeing him after tonight.

Jennifer eyed him shrewdly. She knew exactly what he was after, and it wasn’t fresh air.

‘It’s raining,’ she pointed out, mock innocent.

‘I’m sure we could find a nice doorway to shelter in.’ There was no mistaking his suggestive smirk. ‘Come on, I’ll walk you home.’

They were in a darkened corner of the dance hall, tucked behind a pillar away from the crowds. The young man had somehow manoeuvred her so her back was against the wall. Over his shoulder, Jennifer could see Cissy spinning around the dance floor, her laughing face illuminated by the coloured lights overhead.

‘No, thanks, I’m with my friend,’ she said.

‘She can find her own way home, surely?’

‘I promised my dad we’d stick together.’

‘Your dad ain’t here, is he?’

Lucky for you, Jennifer thought. Uniform or not, Alec Caldwell would have torn this skinny young man limb from limb for even looking at his daughter.

The soldier frowned. ‘Come on, love. Why do you think I’ve been buying you drinks all night?’

Jennifer met his eye boldly. ‘Because I was thirsty?’ she said.

His smile was cold. ‘You’re a smart one, ain’t you?’

‘Too smart for you, mate.’

‘We’ll see about that.’ He pressed his body closer to hers, and she could smell beer and cigarettes on his breath. ‘You’ve had your fun, now I want mine.’

He made a grab for her breast through her blouse, squeezing roughly. As he moved in, Jennifer lifted her knee just as her dad had taught her, ready to let him have it as hard as she could between his legs.

But before she could make another move, the soldier suddenly staggered backwards away from her.

‘You heard the lady, son. She ain’t interested,’ a gruff voice said.