The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,45
a move on before Sister She-devil sends someone down to look for us.’
I’d find it a lot quicker if you were helping me, Helen thought.
She finally located the battered, dust-covered cardboard box on a top shelf at the far end of the basement.
‘About time, too.’ Amy stubbed out her cigarette and tossed it into the stoke hole as Helen appeared, staggering under its weight. ‘And you’ve got dust all over your apron,’ she added casually. ‘Sister isn’t going to be too pleased about that.’
Visiting time wasn’t yet over by the time they returned to the ward, but Charlie Denton’s fiancée had already gone.
Staff Nurse Lund intercepted Helen as she was changing her apron. ‘Can you keep an eye on Mr Denton, Tremayne? We think he might have had some bad news.’
Helen’s heart sank. Ignoring the knowing look Amy sent her, she went over to Charlie Denton’s bed.
A newspaper lay open at the crossword page, but he wasn’t looking at it. One look at his hollow-eyed face, and Helen knew Amy Hollins was right.
She offered the only comfort she could. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Denton?’
He turned to look at her, his smile wobbling. ‘No, thanks, Nurse. But I wouldn’t mind something a bit stronger, if you’ve got it?’
‘Why? Has something happened?’
‘You could say that.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Sal’s called off the engagement.’
‘What happened?’
‘Oh, she was nice enough about it. Shed a few tears, said how sorry she was and all that. But the bottom line is, she reckons she can’t cope with the idea of me being disabled. Doesn’t want a cripple for a husband.’ He pleated the sheet between his fingers. ‘Can’t say I blame her. I’m not looking forward to it much myself.’
‘Oh, Mr Denton, I’m so sorry.’ Helen fought the urge to reach for his hand. ‘Perhaps when she’s had time to think about it, she’ll realise she’s made a mistake?’
‘I doubt it, Nurse T. From the sound of it, she’s already found someone else.’
‘Do you know who it is?’
He nodded. ‘One of my best friends, as it happens.’ He tried to smile, but his voice was thick with emotion. ‘I don’t really blame her. Sal’s young, full of life. She wants someone who can take her out dancing, someone who can provide for a family. And let’s face it, I’m never going to trip the light fantastic around the People’s Palace any more, am I? No, it’s better that she finds someone who can look after her. And I know my mate Sam will do that. I’d like to think my Sally will be well looked after.’ He opened his hand. A ring with a tiny diamond chip glinted in his palm. ‘Although I don’t suppose she is my Sally any more, is she?’
Helen felt a lump rising in her throat. But before she could say any more, Sister Holmes summoned her to help decorate the tree.
Charlie Denton smiled wanly. ‘You’d best get on, Nurse. I’ve taken up too much of your time. That tree won’t decorate itself, will it?’
Helen had been looking forward to decorating the Christmas tree. But now, as she perched on a chair to hang glittering stars from its branches, she had never felt less festive in her whole life. She kept stealing glances over at Charlie. Mr O’Sullivan in the next bed was trying to regale him with the details of his recent operation. But even though Charlie was smiling and nodding, she could tell he wasn’t listening to a word.
‘I do wish you’d pay attention, Tremayne,’ Sister Holmes scolded, as another bauble shattered on the ground. ‘If you drop anything else it will come out of your pay.’
‘Yes, Sister,’ Helen said miserably.
Amy sidled up to her smugly, a glass angel in her hand.
‘Told you, didn’t I?’ she said. ‘That’s a tanner you owe me.’
Helen ignored her. Turn the other cheek, the Bible said. But sometimes the urge to shove Amy’s face in a bedpan was almost overwhelming.
Chapter Fourteen
‘DUNNO ABOUT BEING a White Christmas, but I reckon it’s going to be a wet one!’
Nanna Winnie peered through the net curtains at the rainwashed back yard. It had been pouring down for days, and even though it was only mid-afternoon the sky was a sullen grey that promised no relief.
But it was Christmas Eve, and not even the constant rain could dampen Dora’s spirits as she sat at the kitchen table with her mother, slicing carrots for their tea.