Nightingales Under the Mistletoe (40 page)

‘What if he isn't?' she whispered. She had been a nurse too long not to realise that the simplest fall could have dire consequences. Consequences that weren't always immediately apparent.

‘Stop it, darling. You saw him when we brought him into the house. He was practically his old self.'

She was quiet for a moment and then she was on her feet again. ‘Do you think that doctor knows what he's doing?' she said. ‘He's only a locum, not our usual GP …'

‘Nevertheless, he still has a medical qualification.'

Millie allowed Teddy's calm voice to wash over her, soothing away her fears. Just his presence was like balm, comforting her. She was sure he was right, But at the same time, she couldn't help feeling anxious.

‘Thank you for being here,' she said. ‘I don't know what I would have done without you. Gone quite mad, probably.'

‘That's what friends do, darling.'

Millie smiled gratefully. Teddy had been more than a friend. He had been a hero. Without him, she was certain she would have fallen to pieces.

More importantly, he was there when she needed him, not several thousand feet up above the English Channel.

The doctor appeared and pronounced Henry none the worse for his adventure.

‘You'll need to keep an eye on him for a few days, just to make sure he doesn't develop any nasty symptoms,' he advised. ‘Watch out for any nausea or vomiting, or if he seems dizzy at all.'

‘I know what to look for, Doctor,' Millie assured him. Now she knew Henry wasn't in terrible danger, she could finally allow herself to relax.

Teddy showed the doctor out while Millie went in to check on Henry. He seemed fine despite has accident, although the scowling look Nanny Perks gave her said that she wouldn't forgive Millie in a hurry.

When she returned to the drawing room, Teddy had poured them both a large whisky. ‘I think we need it, don't you?'

‘Thank you.'

As she sat down, Teddy told her, ‘You know, the doctor said the most extraordinary thing as I was showing him out. He told me I had a delightful little boy. You don't think he imagined we were a family, do you?'

He looked so taken aback by the idea Millie laughed. ‘Would that be so terrible?' she said.

‘Not at all.' He shook his head. ‘In fact, I don't think I could think of anything more perfect.'

Millie looked at his kind, handsome face. Teddy would never let her down. He had a heart of gold. He would always keep her safe.

‘Neither can I,' she said.

IT WAS A
chilly March morning, and the ward was still in darkness, huddled behind blackout curtains, as Grace lit the fire, piling up the kindling and lighting the paper. The warmth of the flames made her chilblains tingle. She sat back on her heels and examined the skin on her fingers, tight, red and throbbing with pain. Even though March was here, there was still no sign of spring. Winter held on grimly, casting its grey shadow everywhere.

She thought about the winters in Canada. Max had painted such a vivid picture of the cold beauty of the landscape, everything blanketed in thick, sparkling snow, the whiteness so blindingly brilliant it hurt to look at it. Sometimes, he said, the snow was so deep it drifted right up against the windows. Then they would have to put on special shoes that helped them walk on the snow's surface. Grace could hardly believe such a thing was possible, but Max had assured her they worked very well.

She often found herself thinking about Canada, daydreaming about what it might be like to go there and see it for herself. Max had told her all about the mountains, their peaks tipped with snow all year round, even in the summer. He'd told her about the pine forests, the vast lakes, and the ocean where you could go out on a boat and see whales and dolphins, close enough to touch. She couldn't imagine how wonderful it must be.

Daisy whisked past, lifting Grace out of her pleasant daydream. She had just come on duty, and as she hurried down the ward, Grace could see her shivering inside her cloak, her face pinched and white with cold.

‘I've got the fire going, if you want to warm yourself for a minute?' she offered. Daisy looked at her for a moment, then gave the slightest shake of her head and moved on.

Grace sighed. She desperately wished her sister would forgive her, and that everything could go back to normal. She dearly wanted to take care of her again. Poor Daisy looked so lost.

She had been a little better towards Grace since the crash that had killed poor Harry and the others. Sometimes Grace caught her sister watching her, and fancied that she might even want to speak to her. But somehow pride always stopped her. It was almost as if Daisy couldn't allow herself to be friendly.

Grace tried to forget about it as she helped to serve the breakfasts.

‘Morning, Gracie!' Tommo greeted her cheerfully when she brought Alan's tray over. He was sitting up in bed, all smiles.

‘What have I told you about calling me that?' Grace warned. It was a bad day for her when Tommo had found out her Christian name. Now he insisted on using it all the time.

‘Aw, don't be like that, Gracie. I'm in a good mood today.'

‘Oh, yes? And why's that?'

‘I'm getting a visit from my CO, to be told when I can rejoin my regiment. I can't wait!' He rubbed his hands together in glee.

‘Nor can we, mate!' Sergeant Jefferson muttered from the next bed. ‘Can't wait to see the back of you!'

‘That's good news.' Grace set Alan's tray down. ‘How is your leg healing up?'

Tommo stared down at the injured limb, still propped up on its frame, and his face clouded over.

‘It's a bit stiff,' he admitted. ‘But I'll be right as rain soon. And it won't stop me firing a gun, will it?' He cheered up. ‘I'm telling you, Gracie, I can't wait to get back to my old pals.'

‘Well, I'm very pleased for you,' she said. ‘Now, do you want to help Alan with his breakfast, or shall I do it?'

‘No need for that, Nurse.' Tommo looked across at Alan in the next bed, his eyes twinkling. ‘I've been teaching him how to feed himself. He can almost manage it now.'

‘Never!' Grace looked from one to the other. ‘When did this happen?'

‘Oh, we've been practising for a while, haven't we, mate? We wanted it to be a surprise for you.' He winked at Alan. ‘What do you say? Do you want to show Grace how you're getting on?'

Tommo got out of bed and carefully positioned the bowl of porridge in front of Alan, then placed the spoon in his hand. Grace sat at the bedside, watching as the spoon wobbled in Alan's shaky grasp. It was painful to watch, and she had to lace her fingers in her lap to stop herself moving to help him as he lowered the spoon slowly into the porridge, then lifted it to his lips.

Grace and Tommo both watched him. Grace silently willed him on as the porridge slopped off the spoon, Alan's head still craning forward, mouth open. But finally he captured it between his lips and sat back, a look of triumph in his eyes.

‘Oh, that's wonderful!' She clapped her hands. ‘Well done, Alan. And you too, Tommo, for teaching him.'

Tommo looked proud. ‘I did a good job, didn't I?' He preened himself. ‘Now all I've got to do is teach him how to stand up and walk by himself. You'll have to do that, won't you, mate? When I leave, I mean?'

Alan gave him an awkward sideways smile, as he lowered his spoon shakily into his bowl again.

Grace sat there until he'd finished every painstaking mouthful. She was tempted to seize the spoon and do it for him, but Tommo was very strict about that.

‘No, Grace,' he insisted. ‘Leave him be. He's got to learn to stand on his own two feet.'

‘You're right,' she said, but she still felt sceptical. There was no doubt Tommo had done a good job; when Grace had first seen Alan, no one had imagined he would ever do anything more than stare into space. But she doubted if even Tommo's determination could make his friend stand on his own again. Even if he could manage it physically, he lacked the strength and the will to help himself.

Once breakfast was over, and Grace had washed up the dishes, it was time to get on with all her other jobs. She ran baths, set trolleys, scrubbed and cleaned, handed out and collected bedpans and straightened beds. Sometime in the middle of the morning, she saw a tall, uniformed officer striding down the ward, flanked by Miss Wallace and Dr Pearson. Grace watched Miss Wallace setting up the screens around Tommo's bed, and smiled. Poor Tommo had waited weeks for this moment, and she was pleased it was finally happening for him.

‘The patient in bed seven has just vomited. Clean it up,
stat
.' Grace started at the sharp sound of Daisy's voice. But before she could react her sister was already walking off down the ward, her spine stiff and straight.

‘Someone's in a funny mood?' The kindly corporal whose bed she had been straightening grinned up at her.

Grace smiled. ‘Only with me.'

Sometimes she wondered why she didn't accept Max's offer, and just up sticks and go off to Canada. It wasn't as if Daisy wanted her around any more. And even though she was trying to keep her distance from Max, the idea of never seeing him again was almost too painful to bear. She knew it would be a good life for Walter and Ann there, far better than the life they had at the moment.

But she couldn't think about leaving Daisy, not while they were still at loggerheads. Grace had looked after her younger sister for so long, she couldn't imagine not being there to watch over her.

And if she was honest, Grace was also afraid of the idea of making a new start. She had spent her whole life at the beck and call of others, and wasn't sure she would even know how to live her life for herself.

When she emerged from cleaning up around bed seven, Miss Wallace called her over.

‘Maynard, could you keep an eye on Mr Thompson?' she said. ‘He's had some rather bad news. His CO has just told him he won't be going back into the army. His injuries are too severe.'

‘Oh, no! Poor Tommo!'

‘Quite. He's very upset about it, as you can imagine.' Miss Wallace glanced over her shoulder towards him. ‘He's refusing to eat his lunch. I wonder if you could try to persuade him?'

‘I'll do my best, Sister.'

As Grace went off, Miss Wallace called after her, ‘Be careful, Maynard. He's in a rather difficult mood.'

Tommo didn't even look at Grace as she brought his tray over to him. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling with glassy, vacant eyes.

‘You can take that away, I don't want anything,' he grunted.

‘But it's pease pudding, your favourite.'

‘Are you deaf? I told you, I don't want it.'

Grace ignored him as she set the tray down on his locker. ‘You have to eat something, to keep your strength up,' she said briskly.

‘What for?' He turned his head to look at her. Grace was shocked by the hopeless expression in his eyes. For a moment she was at a loss for words.

‘So you can get better,' she said stoutly.

‘What's the point in getting better? It don't matter what state I'm in, it ain't going to make any difference. I suppose you've heard they don't want me back in the army?'

Grace lowered her gaze. ‘Sister told me. I'm very sorry.'

‘Much good sorry will do!' His mouth was set in a bitter line. ‘I dunno why they bothered patching me up. It might have been better if they'd left me to die out there.'

Grace gasped. ‘You can't say that!'

‘She's right, you ungrateful little sod,' Sergeant Jefferson broke in.

Tommo turned on him. ‘Oh, yeah? And what have I got to be grateful for?'

‘You're alive, ain't you? Some boys weren't that lucky.' He nodded towards Alan. ‘Look at that poor devil. He's in a worse state than you, and you never hear him feeling sorry for himself.'

‘That's ‘cos he ain't right in the head!' Tommo snapped back. ‘It would have been a mercy if they'd let him die, too.'

Grace and Sergeant Jefferson stared at each other, shocked. ‘That's a terrible thing to say!' Grace said.

‘Why? Look at him. He's never going to be any use to anyone. He's like me – on the scrap heap.'

Grace shot a look at Alan. He was propped up as usual, staring straight ahead of him with his single glassy eye. It was hard to know if he'd taken in what Tommo had said. She hoped he hadn't.

‘Any life is better than no life at all,' she hissed. ‘I bet Alan's family is thankful that he's come through it.'

Tommo turned bitter eyes to hers. ‘That's the difference, ain't it? He's got a family to care about him. All I had was the army. And now I ain't even got that …'

He dashed his hand across his face, but not before Grace caught the glitter of a tear escaping from the corner of his eye.

‘You've still got friends here,' she tried to reason with him.

‘No, I ain't. None of them could give a stuff about me.'

‘Alan cares about you.'

‘Alan don't know what time of day it is half the time. What use is he to me?'

Grace opened her mouth to speak, but Tommo cut her off. ‘Look, Nurse, I know you mean well, but just do me a favour and push off, will you? I don't want to talk to you, all right?'

Grace glanced across the ward at Miss Wallace, who was watching them. She gave a little shake of her head.

‘All right, I will leave you alone,' she whispered, picking up the tray. ‘But you're wrong, Tommo. People do care about you.'

She fetched Alan's tray and sat down beside his bed. He looked up at her enquiringly.

‘Right, let's get you something to eat, shall we? Do you think you can manage this by yourself?' She picked up the spoon and tried to put it into his hand, but Alan's slack fingers wouldn't grip it. He looked over at Tommo, wanting his encouragement.