The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,175
up to the nines as usual in a dress of emerald green and a matching hat fastened to her blonde curls with pearl-tipped pins.
‘There you are,’ she said, her scarlet-painted lips stretching into a broad smile. Dora watched her sashay over to Nick and thread her arm possessively through his. ‘Have you seen the time? We should be going soon.’
He stubbed out his cigarette and got to his feet. ‘Ready when you are.’
‘Going somewhere nice?’ Dora asked lightly.
‘Nick’s taking me out dancing.’ Ruby couldn’t keep the delighted grin off her face. ‘There’s a new show band on at the Palais.’
Dora looked at him. ‘I didn’t know you liked dancing?’
‘He’s never tried it, have you, Nicky? It’ll be a new experience for you. The first of many, I hope.’ She winked at Dora.
Nick sent her one last look before he followed Ruby out of the back gate. Dora thought she saw a flash of longing in his eyes, but that was probably wishful thinking. She sat down on an upturned bucket and stared up at the sky. Damn you, Alf Doyle, she cursed silently. He might have been out of her life, but he would never be out of her head.
It was a long time since Kathleen had seen Amelia Benedict in her office. The young student had thrown herself into her studies since returning to the Nightingale a month before. And according to the ward reports, her nursing skills were improving too. So it was with great disappointment that she heard the news that Benedict had to tell her.
‘You’re engaged? Does this mean you will be leaving the Nightingale?’
‘Oh, no, Matron. Not at all. Seb – Sebastian, my fiancé – and I have discussed it, and we’re planning a long engagement. We’re not even going to think about getting married until after I’ve finished my training here.’
‘I see.’ Kathleen considered this for a moment. ‘I must say, Benedict, it is a great pity you will not be a nurse here at the Nightingale. We had high hopes for you.’
‘Of course. But we’ll never know now, will we?’ Kathleen fixed her with a steady look. ‘I do hope that you will not allow your wedding plans to distract you from your studies?’
‘Oh, no, Matron.’
‘We shall see about that,’ Kathleen murmured, when she had dismissed Benedict. ‘I’m rather worried she’ll get caught up with wedding dresses and so forth and forget all about what she is supposed to be doing,’ she confided in Miss Hanley.
‘It might be a good thing if she does,’ the Assistant Matron said irritably. ‘I’ve never heard of such a ridiculous idea! What on earth is the point of wasting all that time and effort training the girl if she is not going to join the profession and use her skills?’
‘I agree,’ Kathleen said. ‘It seems a huge waste, doesn’t it? But Benedict has another two years of training ahead of her. Who knows what will happen in that time? People change their minds, don’t they?’
Just look at Constance Tremayne, she thought. Two weeks ago she would never have imagined her changing her mind about anything. And yet she had. Kathleen still wasn’t sure what had made her decide to allow Helen to remain at the Nightingale, but it was a blessed relief when she had.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen much of Mrs Tremayne since she’d made her decision. And Miss Hanley had started to look slightly pained whenever her name was mentioned. Kathleen wondered if they’d had some kind of falling out. Disagreeable though it might be, she could only hope they had, as it made for a far more peaceful life when they weren’t joined in an unholy alliance against her.
There was a soft tap on the door and the maid came in, carrying a tea tray. Kathleen turned to her assistant. ‘Imagine that, Miss Hanley. We are actually agreed on something.’ She smiled, and picked up the teapot. ‘There may be hope for us yet,’ she said.
Helen was getting changed at the nurses’ home when Millie came rushing in.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said breathlessly, throwing off her red-lined cloak and reaching up to unpin her cap. ‘Sister Willis was absolutely beastly and refused to let me go off duty. And then I had to come the long way back because Sister Holmes and Sister Wren were talking on the stairs.’ She wrenched out the last pin and shook her fair curls free. ‘There, that’s better.’