The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,35

disguise his missing leg.

‘Thanks, Nurse. Don’t want to scare my Sal first time, do I?’ He beamed gratefully at her. ‘Got to give her a chance to get used to the idea, like.’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Mr Denton.’

‘She’s not here yet.’ His gaze strayed to the doors. ‘She’s meant to be coming in with my mum. I expect their bus is late again.’

‘I expect so.’

As she counted and recounted the linen in the cupboard, Helen kept an eye on Charlie Denton. Once or twice she saw him sit up as a woman walked through the doors at the far end of the ward, only to slump back again when she headed for someone else’s bed. Helen found herself watching the doors too.

After half an hour she was about to go over and ask if he would like a cup of tea, when a large, handsome, middle-aged woman strode into the ward. From her ruddy cheeks and the sandy hair curling out from under her hat, Helen guessed this was Mr Denton’s mother.

‘Charlie love!’ her voice boomed out. Sister Holmes looked up from her desk, eyes narrowing beadily on the woman who had dared to disturb the peace of her ward. Even during visiting time, it was as quiet as a library.

Helen watched her pull up a chair at her son’s bedside and begin unloading her bulging shopping bags. Magazines, a tin of toffees, a bag of grapes, apples and bananas, were all piled on to Charlie’s bedside locker. But when she pulled out a bottle of stout, Sister Holmes swooped in.

Helen was watching the ensuing altercation when Amy appeared from the other side of the linen cupboard.

‘Sister wants you to do the tea round.’

‘But she told me to stay here and keep an eye on everyone.’

‘Well, she’s changed her mind, hasn’t she?’ Amy said nastily. ‘Anyway, I did the wretched round this morning, so you can have the pleasure now.’

Reluctantly, Helen took herself off to the kitchen to put the water on to boil and get the tea ready. She did it far more quickly than usual, almost scalding herself as she poured boiling water into the urn in her rush to get back to the ward.

Serving the visitors tea was a new idea Matron had come up with. Usually Sister Holmes would have resisted anything that involved making them feel remotely welcome. But Matron was allowing them to charge visitors a few pennies a cup, which went towards raising funds for Christmas decorations and gifts.

As she clattered the trolley from bed to bed, serving tea to the patients and their visitors and collecting the money in a tin, Helen kept trying to steal glances up the ward towards Charlie Denton. He and his mother were deep in conversation.

‘You’ve short changed me,’ a voice complained, bringing her back to the present.

‘Pardon?’ Helen looked around vaguely. A woman was holding out her hand. In her palm were two large copper pennies.

‘You’ve given me tuppence,’ she repeated. ‘I gave you sixpence. That’s threepence change.’

‘Oh. Sorry.’ Helen absently reached into the tin, took out a threepenny bit and handed it to her.

‘What’s this? Not Tremayne making a mistake, surely?’ Amy sidled up to her, smiling nastily. ‘What’s got into you today?’

Finally Helen reached Charlie Denton’s bed.

‘Nurse T!’ He smiled up at her, but his blue eyes had lost some of their sparkle. ‘Mum, this is the nurse I was telling you about. The one who’s been looking after me.’

‘I’m pleased to meet you.’ Mrs Denton caught Helen’s hand in an iron grip. Her own hands were as big and rough as a man’s. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for looking after my Charlie. When he had that accident, I really thought I’d lost my little boy for sure . . .’ She let go of Helen’s hand and fumbled for a handkerchief in her coat pocket.

‘Come off it, Mum! You’ll make me a laughing stock.’ He rolled his eyes at Helen. ‘Does your mum ever embarrass you like this?’

You have no idea, Helen thought. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs Denton?’ she offered soothingly.

The bell for the end of visiting time rang out a few minutes later, and the visitors filed out. Helen didn’t have the chance to speak to Charlie until it was time to serve the patients their evening meal.

She made sure she served Charlie. She was worried about him. Since his mother left, he had flicked listlessly through his magazines and not