The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,94

kindly. ‘It’s plain he doesn’t want to see you. And it’s unladylike to go around chasing after a man, especially when he’s not interested.’

The girl stared at him blankly. ‘You think I’m interested in Nick Riley?’

‘Why else would you be coming round here all the time?’

Her mouth firmed. ‘That’s none of your business. Do you know where he might be?’

‘No, I don’t,’ Edwin Hopkins replied huffily, all his fatherly concern gone. ‘What he does in his own time is his concern, not mine – or yours either, come to that.’

‘Have you tried the boxing club on Ratner Row?’ Percy Carson came up behind them. ‘Nick usually goes down there to train on a Tuesday after work.’

Edwin Hopkins shot him a frowning look. Carson always had a bit too much to say for himself.

‘Ratner Row, you say? Thanks very much.’

‘You didn’t want to be telling her that,’ Hopkins scolded as she walked away.

‘Come on, Mr Hopkins, have a heart. Can’t you see the poor girl’s desperate?’

‘That’s as may be, but I don’t hold with young ladies chasing after men.’

‘Looking like her, I don’t s’pose she’s got much option but to chase them!’ Davey put in unkindly.

‘There’s no need for that either.’ Edwin Hopkins shot a quick glance at the girl, hoping she hadn’t heard.

It wasn’t right for a young lady to hear that sort of remark.

The boxing club was in a basement under the King’s Arms pub, a rough old dive near the canal. A narrow door led down from the street.

Dora paused for a moment before going inside. This was the last place she wanted to go, but she had no choice. Nick had been avoiding her for weeks, ever since their argument over the hamsa. She’d tried everything to talk to him, even risked catching his eye while they were on the wards. But he’d just walked by with his face turned away.

Now, two months on, she was determined to track him down and pay him back the money she owed him, no matter what it took.

She stepped carefully down the steep staircase and found herself in a dingy, low-ceilinged room reeking of stale sweat. In the centre of the floor two men were slugging it out in a boxing ring, while all around the room other men were exercising with weights or working on punchbags hung from the ceiling.

She was still peering around, trying to find Nick, when a man came up to her. He was middle-aged, with the broad shoulders and flattened features of a boxer.

‘Excuse me, Miss, but you can’t come in here.’ His voice was gruff. ‘This club is for men only.’

‘But I’m looking for someone—’

‘I don’t care if you’re looking for the Prince of Wales, you can’t come in here. Now, if you don’t mind . . .’

As he started to hustle her out, Dora suddenly spotted Nick over in the corner, head down, driving his fists into one of the heavy punchbags.

‘Nick!’ She dodged past the man and darted towards him.

Nick looked up sharply. ‘Dora?’ His dark hair hung damply in his eyes and he pushed it back with a gloved hand. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Looking for you. Same as I have been these past two months.’

The other man appeared behind her. ‘I’ve told her she can’t come in here, Nick, but she won’t listen. Do you want to throw her out or shall I?’

Nick looked from him to Dora and back again. ‘Five minutes, Jimmy? Please?’

The man sighed. ‘Five minutes. But then I’m coming back and I’m putting you over my shoulder.’ He pointed a warning finger at Dora.

The shadow of a smile crossed Nick’s face. ‘He means it, too.’ He turned back to his punchbag. ‘You shouldn’t have come here.’

‘I needed to find you. Didn’t you get any of my notes?’

‘I got ’em all right.’ He drove his fists into the punchbag. Sweat gleamed on his powerful muscles, clearly outlined under his thin vest.

‘It would have been nice of you to answer instead of ignoring them.’

‘Wasn’t that answer enough for you?’

‘Maybe you don’t want this, then?’ Dora reached into her pocket and drew out the money she’d been keeping carefully in an envelope. ‘Maybe you’re so loaded you can afford to give your money away?’

She held it out to him. Nick glanced down at it, then took it. ‘You could have left it at the porters’ lodge.’

‘I didn’t want some toerag to nick it, did I?’ She hesitated. ‘Besides, I wanted to apologise. I shouldn’t have flown off the handle