Nightingales at War (4 page)

Jennifer stared in shock at the man who loomed out of the shadows. He was tall and heavily built, with slicked-back dark hair.

The soldier shook himself free and squared up to the newcomer. ‘You want to mind your own business, mate, or I’ll stick one on you.’

‘Try it.’ The man’s voice was menacing in its softness.

A thrill ran through Jennifer as the two men stood toe to toe. She loved men fighting over her. But then, to her disappointment, the soldier shrugged and muttered, ‘Nah, she ain’t worth it. You can have her, if you’re that bothered.’

As he walked off, Jennifer turned to the stranger. ‘What did you do that for?’ she demanded. ‘I could have dealt with him. I know what I’m doing.’

A slow smile spread across the man’s face. The dim light of the dance hall illuminated a faint silver scar running down the length of his cheek. ‘I’ll bet you do,’ he said softly.

Before Jennifer could reply, Cissy hurried over. ‘What was that about? Was there a fight? I might have known if there was trouble you’d be right in the middle of it, Jen Caldwell.’

‘It’s all right,’ the man said. ‘I saved your friend’s honour.’

Cissy turned to him. ‘And who are you, when you’re at home?’

He smiled at Jennifer. ‘Just call me a knight in shining armour,’ he said.

‘Very mysterious, I’m sure.’ Cissy turned to Jennifer. ‘Come on, let’s go home. I promised my mum I’d be in by ten and you know how long it takes to walk in this rotten blackout.’

‘I could give you a lift, if you like?’ the man offered. ‘My car’s just round the corner.’

A car! Jennifer didn’t know anyone with a proper motor. Most of the boys around Bethnal Green couldn’t afford more than a second-hand pushbike.

But before she could accept, Cissy jumped in with, ‘No, thank you. We’ll make our own way home.’

‘Suit yourself. Some other time, maybe?’ He winked at Jennifer. ‘Mind how you go, won’t you?’

They spilled out of the brightly lit dance hall into the pitch darkness of the blackout. It was still raining, and they clung to each other under their umbrella as they stumbled along the street.

‘My hair’s going to be ruined. We should have let that bloke give us a lift,’ Jennifer grumbled, turning up the collar of her raincoat.

‘You must be joking! I ain’t getting into a stranger’s car. Especially not someone like him,’ Cissy replied primly.

‘What was wrong with him?’

‘I dunno. But there was definitely something not quite right about him.’

‘Well, he seemed like a perfect gentleman to me. He came to my rescue, after all.’

‘Hmm.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘If you ask me, it’s a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire.’

‘Do you think so?’ Jennifer smiled in the darkness, glad that Cissy couldn’t see her face. The last thing she wanted was another lecture from her friend.

But Cissy knew her too well. ‘I mean it, Jen. There’s something not quite right about him. Something – I don’t know – dangerous.’

I know, Jennifer thought. God only knew, she could do with a bit of danger and excitement in her life.

IT FELT STRANGE
to be in uniform again. Dora barely recognised herself as she stared at her reflection in the cloakroom mirror. Was it really only two years since she’d last put it on? It felt like a lifetime ago. But she had got so used to being a wife and mother, she suddenly felt like a young girl again in her heavy blue dress, white apron and black wool stockings.

She immediately felt a pang, wondering if she’d done the right thing. It had seemed like such a good idea to go back to nursing, but now she was actually here Dora couldn’t imagine how she would cope. What if she’d forgotten everything she’d learned? She had a sudden, horrible picture of herself going blank and getting in everyone’s way.

And then there were her babies. Her heart ached when she remembered how the twins had sobbed and reached out their chubby arms imploringly to her when she’d left them that morning. She had been so close to taking off her coat again, but her mother had insisted she should not.

‘Go,’ she’d said, pushing Dora gently but firmly towards the door. ‘They’ll stop before you get to the end of the alley, I promise.’

They might have stopped crying, but Dora hadn’t. Tears had run down her cheeks all the way to the hospital gates. Poor little mites, she hadn’t been away from them for a whole day before.

But at the same time she knew she couldn’t give up her plan to return to nursing. She was so frantic with worry about Nick, if she didn’t do something to occupy her mind, she felt she would go completely mad.

She gave herself a mental shake. You chose this, my girl, she told herself sternly. You were the one who made such a fuss about wanting to nurse again, and you’ve got to see it through. If you walk away now you know full well you’ll never come back.

At least she’d been assigned to the Casualty department, where Helen Dawson was in charge. The two girls had shared a room at the students’ home while they were training, and they had been friends ever since. At least Helen wouldn’t be as hard on Dora as some of the other sisters might be, which was some comfort.

But her fingers still fumbled over the studs on her starched collar and cuffs. And to think a couple of years ago she’d been able to put them on with one hand while hurrying down the stairs of the nurses’ home, late for breakfast! Now she was as clumsy as a nervous probationer.

And as for her cap . . . no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fold the square of starched linen into something resembling a headpiece. As she tried and tried, she could feel the crisp white fabric wilting in her clammy hands.

She was still cursing quietly over it when the door opened and a dark-haired student nurse stuck her head round.

‘I just wanted to remind you, Sister will be on duty at eight and we’re supposed to be ready – oh, I see you’re having a bit of trouble.’ She came forward, her hands outstretched. ‘Would you like me to help?’

‘Thanks,’ Dora replied, handing it over.

‘There’s a knack to it,’ the girl said. ‘You have to take this corner over to this edge, you see? And make sure this crease is at the front, like so . . . there.’ She folded it deftly.

‘Thanks – I’m sorry, I don’t know your name?’

‘Kowalski. Devora Kowalski. All my friends call me Dev.’

‘I’m Nurse Riley. My friends call me Dora.’

‘Pleased to meet you. Pass me your pins and I’ll fix it in place for you.’

‘Thanks.’ Dora handed over the pins she’d remembered to bring with her. ‘Sister Sutton used to despair of me because my hair was always escaping. She used to say if she saw another ginger curl poking out she’d shave my head!’

Nurse Kowalski’s brows lifted. ‘You’re a Nightingale girl?’

Dora nodded. ‘I took my State Finals nearly three years ago.’

‘The same time I started training.’

‘So you’re in your final year?’

‘I would be, if it weren’t for this wretched war. Our training has been “officially suspended until further notice”.’ She quoted the words with a grimace.

‘Bad luck.’ Dora remembered how she couldn’t wait to take her Finals and be able to wear the hospital badge and finally call herself a real nurse. ‘This war’s a nuisance all round, ain’t it?’ she said.

‘It is,’ Dev agreed with a sigh. ‘But at least they’ve let us come back to London now, which is something. It was so dull when the students’ home moved down to the country.’

‘Is Sister Sutton still in charge?’

‘Yes – worse luck!’ Dev’s nose wrinkled. ‘We all thought she might retire when the war started, but she’s still here. And she’s got even worse since we arrived back in London. Now she can nag us about remembering our gas masks as well as everything else. And as for that awful little dog of hers . . .’

‘You mean Sparky?’ Dora laughed. ‘For gawd’s sake, don’t let Sister Sutton hear you calling him that!’

‘Well, he is awful,’ Dev said with feeling. ‘Nasty, bad-tempered creature. I swear he lies in wait for us at the bottom of the stairs so he can nip our ankles. He made a hole in my stocking the other morning. And then Sister Sutton had the cheek to tell me off about it!’ She finished pinning Dora’s cap and stood back to admire her handiwork. ‘There,’ she said. ‘I think that’s straight enough. Now hurry up, or Sister Dawson will report us. She’s an angel, but she still likes things done her way!’

They hurried back to the main Casualty Hall just as Helen Dawson was coming on duty. It gave Dora a jolt to see her friend in the uniform of a ward sister. The severity of the grey dress suited her, emphasising Helen’s tall, willowy figure, while the starched linen bonnet tied in a bow under her chin framed the perfect oval of her face. When Dora had first met her back in their student days she had thought Helen the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, and she still thought it now.

Dora immediately stood to attention beside Dev Kowalski, her hands folded behind her back. She and Helen might be friends off duty, but while in uniform Sister Dawson was still Dora’s superior.

‘Welcome to Casualty, Nurse Riley.’ Her greeting was formal, but Dora caught the hint of warmth in her brown eyes.

‘Thank you, Sister.’

‘I must say, we’ll be glad to have an extra pair of hands, won’t we, Kowalski? And I know you’ve worked in Casualty before, so your experience will be useful.’

‘I hope so, Sister,’ Dora replied.

‘You might notice a few changes since you were last here,’ Helen said. ‘The department has been extended over the past year or so, and we now have two further emergency treatment rooms and a gas cleansing station. Although fortunately we haven’t had to put it to use so far,’ she added. ‘We also have some extra consulting rooms, and a recovery ward at the end of the corridor.’

Dora frowned. ‘Aren’t patients transferred up to the main ward, Sister?’

Helen shook her head. ‘Not unless it’s completely necessary. We don’t have the staff to look after them, you see. Which is why we’re so pleased to have you.’

‘Hear, hear!’

Dora turned to see Dr McKay the Senior Medical Officer approaching them. He had been in charge of the Casualty department ever since Dora started training at the hospital. He was in his mid-thirties, dark-haired, with a sharply intelligent face and horn-rimmed spectacles that completely disguised his terrible sense of mischief. Dora knew from experience that there was never a dull moment with David McKay. He was also a brilliant and dedicated doctor.

‘Good morning, Nurse,’ he greeted her with a grin. ‘First day back, is it?’

‘That’s right, Doctor.’

‘It’ll be good to have you.’ His dark eyes twinkled behind his spectacles. ‘Although I daresay you’ll notice there have been quite a few changes around here.’

‘Sister Dawson was just telling me about them, sir.’

‘Oh, yes, indeed. Quite a lot has changed around here. Although some things are a little harder to spot than others. Isn’t that right, Sister?’

He glanced at Helen. She didn’t meet his eye, but Dora could see the delicate pink colour rising in her friend’s pale cheeks.

‘Anyway, um, as I was saying, I’m sure you’ll find your way around soon enough.’ Helen lost her composure for a moment, her blush deepening as she stumbled over her words, much to David McKay’s amusement. Dora saw the grin lighting up his face as he sauntered away. Poor Helen, she thought. Her friend was desperately trying to keep their romance a secret for the sake of hospital rules, but he looked as if he wanted to shout it out to the whole world.

Helen pulled herself together and gave Dora her instructions for the morning. She was to assist in the General Surgical Outpatients clinic.

‘Dr Jameson will be taking the clinic. I’m sure you remember him?’

‘Yes, Sister.’ Although if it was the same Simon Jameson she recalled, he had been a humble medical student when Dora had last seen him.

Helen finished giving the nurses their orders and dismissed them. As they watched her walking off, Dev whispered, ‘Poor Sister Dawson, she was trying so hard to stay professional. Dr Mac really shouldn’t tease her like that.’

Dora looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Can’t you tell? They’re madly in love.’

Dora hoped her face didn’t give her away. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘Oh, everyone knows,’ Dev said airily. ‘I think it’s such a silly rule that they aren’t allowed to be together, just because they both work here.’ She sighed. ‘Poor Sister Dawson, I think she deserves some happiness. You do know what happened to her, don’t you? Her husband died of scarlet fever, just a few days after they were married. But of course you’ll probably remember that, won’t you?’ Dora made a non-committal reply, and Dev went on, ‘She married him in hospital, didn’t she, knowing he was going to die? Don’t you think that’s romantic?’

Dora gritted her teeth to stop herself from snapping at the girl. There was nothing romantic about the way Helen’s heart had shattered into a thousand pieces after Charlie’s death. Nor was there anything romantic about watching her struggling through every day, until finally it all became too much for her.

Dora had been convinced her friend would never recover, but then David McKay had come along and with his doctor’s skills, put Helen’s heart back together.

But Dora knew her friend well enough to realise that she would be mortified to think everyone was gossiping about her.

‘Can you show me the way to Outpatients?’ she asked, changing the subject. ‘And then you can tell me all about Dr Jameson . . .’

It was indeed the Simon Jameson she remembered. He arrived a minute before his first patient, handsome, ruddy-cheeked and fair-haired, his white coat stretched over his broad rugby player’s shoulders.

‘Bless my soul, if it isn’t Nurse Doyle!’

Dora smiled. ‘It’s Nurse Riley now, Doctor.’

‘So it is. I heard you’d got married. Such a loss to the rest of us.’ He pulled a face that was more comical than tragic.

Dora laughed. ‘Go on with you! As I recall you always preferred blondes.’

He grinned back at her, looking even younger than his twenty-four years. ‘Trust you to remember that!’

His good humour helped Dora to feel more confident. But she was still trembling with nerves when the first patient, a post-gastrostomy, was brought in to have his stitches removed. It was all she could do to stop her hands from shaking as she carefully cleaned the gastrostomy tube and handed it back to Dr Jameson.

But once she’d got used to it, it didn’t seem so daunting. Dora soon fell back into the swing of things, losing herself in the business of cleaning and sterilising instruments, checking and cleaning wounds, changing dressings and administering massages. Many of the patients were post-operative cases whose wounds had become infected. Dora swabbed them out and dusted them with antiseptic powder, holding her breath behind her mask so she didn’t have to breathe in the awful smell.

‘It’s the war,’ Dr Jameson said. ‘The idea is to send post-op patients home as soon as possible these days, instead of allowing them to recover on the ward. The trouble is, most of them don’t look after themselves or bother to keep their wounds clean, and then they end up just as bad as they were before.’ He shook his head regretfully. ‘But who are we to question, eh, Nurse? Now, who do we have next on the list? We’d best get a move on, I’m due up on the ward in half an hour.’

‘Sorry, Doctor.’ Dora fumbled through her notes, immediately flustered. ‘I’ll try to be quicker.’

‘It’s no trouble, Nurse. It takes a while to get back into the swing of things, doesn’t it? Besides, it’s not as if there are any dire emergencies waiting for my attention upstairs.’

He was just as kind the first time she had to give an intramuscular injection. Her hands started shaking again, but fortunately the patient was face down on the bed and didn’t seem to notice.

Dr Jameson gave her a knowing smile. ‘Dear me, Nurse, I wasn’t sure if that needle was going to end up in the patient’s buttock or the mattress!’ he commented afterwards.

The rest of the day was just as busy, and by the time Dora’s shift finished at five, she was so tired she could barely move.

She was in the cloakroom, trying to massage the life back into her aching feet, when Helen came in. In contrast to Dora’s own bedraggled appearance, Helen looked as fresh and uncreased as she had first thing that morning.

‘Hard day?’ She smiled at Dora.

‘I’d forgotten what it’s like being on your feet all day,’ Dora groaned. ‘I’m going to have blisters the size of footballs by the end of the week.’

‘Methylated spirit should help.’ Helen smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to speak to you much today, but we’ve been busy as usual.’

‘That’s all right, Sister.’ Dora grinned back at her. ‘I don’t expect you to hold my hand!’

Helen grimaced. ‘You don’t have to call me that when it’s just the two of us!’

‘I might forget in front of the other nurses if I don’t.’ Dora remembered something then, and added, ‘By the way, I wanted to warn you Kowalski seems to know all about you and David.’

Helen looked stricken. ‘Does she? How? I thought we’d been so careful.’ She shook her head. ‘It must have been David. He can’t resist teasing me. I’ve told him about it, but he can’t seem to stop himself.’