The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,44

heart. You only have to look at her to see that.’

He turned to Helen, blue eyes full of despair. ‘I’m not like that, am I? I haven’t changed. I’m still the same bloke Sal fell in love with. It’s only my leg that’s gone, not up here.’ He touched his finger to his temple.

Helen wished she could say something to comfort him and bring the smile back to his face. But she couldn’t. She could tend his wounds, keep him clean and comfortable, but she couldn’t mend his broken heart. Only Sally could do that.

As another visiting time loomed, Helen hoped his fiancée wouldn’t let him down. She was almost as thrilled as he was when Sally appeared shortly after the visiting bell rang. Helen saw Mr Denton’s face light up when he saw her strutting down the ward towards him in her smart red coat, her hat arranged at a rakish angle on her blonde head. She carried a wicker basket full of fruit – an offering from his mum, Helen guessed. Mr Denton’s father was a costermonger in Columbia Street market, and every week his mum would turn up for visiting time with a basket overflowing with apples, pears, bananas and oranges, which Mr Denton would kindly distribute among the rest of the ward.

She watched Sally place the basket down beside the bed, lean over and kiss her fiancé on the cheek. It didn’t look like the warmest kiss Helen had ever seen, but since she had never been kissed herself she was no judge.

‘Tremayne?’ Sister Holmes jolted her back to reality. ‘While we’re quiet, I want you to go down to the basement and fetch the box of tree decorations. The porters will be bringing the tree up after visiting time.’

‘Shall I go with her, Sister?’ Amy Hollins offered. ‘It will be quicker with two of us.’

‘Good idea, Hollins.’

Helen was surprised at Amy volunteering for extra work. But she found out why as soon as they got down to the basement and Amy disappeared off to the stoke hole for a sneaky cigarette, leaving Helen to search for the box by herself.

The air in the basement was musty, and so cold Helen could see her breath curling in front of her. The feeble electric light barely pierced the gloom, casting long shadows over the bare brickwork.

Helen inched her way between shelves that were crammed with boxes and long-forgotten medical equipment. Old desks, chairs and trolleys covered in dustsheets made sinister shapes that rose out of the shadows at her, making her jump at every turn.

‘I see your Mr Denton’s fiancée has turned up,’ Amy remarked, her voice carrying from the far end of the basement where she perched cosily beside the stoke hole.

‘He’s not my Mr Denton.’

‘Really? You seem to take quite an interest in him. I thought you two were the best of friends.’

Helen bent double to squint at the rows of boxes on the lower shelves, trying to make out their labels in the darkness.

‘She’s probably ditching him,’ Amy said.

Helen stood up so quickly she backed into a drip stand, sending it clattering. ‘That’s an awful thing to say!’

‘Why? It’s what I’d do. What good is a crippled husband to her? Better to end it now than go on with it out of pity, I say.’

‘If she loves him, she’ll stay with him whatever happens.’

‘Then she’s daft. He’ll drag her down and ruin her life.’ Amy appeared at the far end of the basement, cigarette in hand. ‘Think about it. He’ll never be able to work or provide for his family. And as for wanting to go to bed with someone like that—’ She shuddered. ‘No, she’s better off finding a real man who can look after her.’

‘Charlie is a real man!’

Helen felt herself blushing as she blurted out the words. Amy’s brows rose questioningly.

‘It’s Charlie now, is it? You really are interested in him, aren’t you? Fancy that – the oh-so-perfect Tremayne falling for a patient. Bet your mother wouldn’t like that.’ She smiled wickedly. ‘Maybe someone should tell her? Give you a taste of your own medicine.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Helen protested.

‘Oh, don’t look so panic-stricken. We’re not all tell-tales like you.’ Amy took a long pull on her cigarette. ‘Anyway, you’ll get your chance with him soon enough. Trust me, I know about these things. I bet you sixpence she’ll finish with him today.’ She looked up at Helen through a curling plume of smoke. ‘Have you found those decorations yet? Better get