The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,156

reason for Peggy Gibson’s breakdown. But she couldn’t betray William and she didn’t think her mother would believe her anyway. Constance Tremayne doted on her son.

‘You are a young, impressionable girl and you must be protected for your own good,’ she went on briskly. ‘Which is why I have decided to remove you from this hospital.’

‘What?’ Helen stared at her in dismay. ‘But why?’

‘Because I am no longer satisfied that it is a suitable place for you to continue your training.’ Constance absently ran one gloved finger along the window ledge and inspected it for dust.

‘But I don’t want to go. I like it here. I’ve made friends.’

‘And I’m sure you’ll make friends elsewhere.’ She snapped her handbag shut. ‘Now, I must be going. I shall expect you for tea tomorrow, since it is your birthday.’

‘You can’t do this.’

Her mother was almost at the door before Helen managed to get the words out. Constance stopped and stared at her. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Helen couldn’t look at her. She fixed her eyes on the jewellery box in her hands instead. It made her think of Charlie, which gave her courage she’d never had before. ‘You can’t run my life for me like this. You’ve always decided everything for me, but not any more. You can’t take me away from here, and you can’t tell me who I can and can’t fall in love with.’

‘Of course I can, Helen. I am your mother. I have your best interests at heart.’

‘No, you don’t. All you’ve ever wanted to do is turn me into a copy of yourself. But I’m not you, and I’m sick of doing everything you say. I want to be allowed to think for myself—’

The slap was hard and sudden, catching her off balance. Helen staggered sideways and the box fell from her hands.

‘You see?’ Her mother’s tight-lipped face swam before her eyes. ‘The very fact that you’re answering me back shows me how out of control you are. The sooner we remove you from this place, the better.’

She left. Helen heard the front door bang shut and sank to her knees. Her beautiful jewellery box lay in pieces on the rug, its lid broken off. Seeing it there, broken in two, hurt more than any blow her mother could have given her.

She picked up the pieces and tried to fit them back together, but she couldn’t see through a hot blur of tears. Finally she gave up as misery overtook her and she started to sob. She heard the sound of the front door again, and knew she should pick herself up and stop crying, but she couldn’t. She didn’t care if one of the other students saw her, or if Sister Sutton came in. She didn’t care about anything any more.

Footsteps passed the sitting room, and then stopped.

‘Tremayne?’ Dora’s voice came from the doorway. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

Helen tried to explain, but she couldn’t speak for crying.

‘Come on, it’s all right. We’ll sort it out.’ She heard the crackle of starched fabric as Dora knelt beside her. ‘Come on, love. Don’t get upset. Bit of glue and it’ll be as right as rain.’

As Dora put her arms around her shaking shoulders, Helen wished she could explain it would take more than a bit of glue to mend her broken heart.

Chapter Fifty-One

‘WHY, MRS TREMAYNE, what a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know we had a meeting today?’

Kathleen Fox’s smile was strained as she returned from her morning round to find Constance waiting for her in her office.

‘We didn’t.’ Constance quivered like a highly strung racehorse, a sure sign of impending trouble. ‘But there’s a matter I wish to discuss with you.’

What is it this time? Kathleen wondered. A nurse being allowed off duty five minutes early? Too much coal being used to fire up the stoke hole? She braced herself for the worst.

‘It’s about my daughter,’ Constance said.

Kathleen’s heart sank. So Miss Hanley had managed to be the bearer of bad tidings after all.

‘Oh, yes?’ She took her seat behind her desk.

‘I’m removing her from this hospital.’

Kathleen looked up sharply. She’d been expecting a rebuke, possibly even a lecture. But not this. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I am taking Helen away from the Nightingale. I have put my intentions in writing.’ She rummaged in her handbag and produced an envelope, which she pushed across the desk to Kathleen. ‘As you’ll see, I intend to take Helen away as soon as possible—’

‘But you can’t!’ Kathleen stared dumbly at the letter on