Nightingales on Call (21 page)

A middle-aged woman came to the door, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘Yes?’ She frowned at Dora. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I’m looking for Nick Riley.’

‘You’ve missed him, love. He’s gone.’

‘Gone?’ Dora looked around wildly. A bunch of children played with an old bicycle wheel, rattling it like a hoop along the cobbles.

‘Left this morning. Told me he was on his way up to Wanstead Flats to meet the fair.’

‘Did he say when the fair was leaving?’

‘He didn’t, but he was in a hurry so I reckon it must have gone by now.’

Dora’s heart plunged with disappointment. She was too late.

‘Sorry, love,’ the woman said. ‘Was it important?’

‘Yes,’ she said in a small voice, barely trusting herself to speak. ‘Yes, it was important.’

She returned to the nurses’ home, utterly dejected. She thought about taking the bus up to Wanstead Flats, but deep down she knew the woman was right. The fair would already have left by now, and Nick would have gone with it.

She couldn’t blame him. Why would he stay when he thought Dora wanted nothing to do with him? Now she had no idea where he was going, or whether she would ever see him again. For all she knew, he might never return.

Why had she been such a fool? She should have overcome her stupid pride and talked to him before it was too late. She’d squandered what little time they’d had left being angry and hurt, instead of spending every minute of the day making those memories that Helen had talked about.

The nurses’ home loomed up before her, but Dora couldn’t face going inside. She needed to be alone, to gather her thoughts before she faced the others. She skirted the main building and headed instead for the overgrown patch of land behind the house. It was hemmed in by shrubs, hidden under a canopy of straggly trees, and the students often went there for a cigarette to avoid the Home Sister’s sharp gaze.

Dora sat down on a tree stump and lit a cigarette with shaking hands. No sooner had she struck the match than she heard the sound of a footstep on the other side of the bushes. Dora tensed, expecting to see them part and another student appear, clutching her own pack of Kensitas, in need of escape.

But there was no one.

‘Hello?’ Dora called out, her voice loud in the silence. The dappled light shimmered through the overhanging tree branches, but no one came.

The match burned down, and the flame caught her fingers. Dora gave a yelp and dropped it, stamping it out on the grass. As she took out another one, she heard the footsteps again. Someone was lurking on the other side of the undergrowth, circling her.

It wasn’t the first time she’d felt as if she was being watched. Ever since that evening by the canal with Nick, she’d had the sense of someone lingering close by, just out of sight. Most of the time she could dismiss it as being just her imagination playing tricks. But sometimes, like now, she had a real sense of someone being close by.

Dora stood up. ‘Is someone out there playing silly buggers?’ she called out. ‘Because if you are, it ain’t very funny—’

She pushed aside the branches and stepped out. The late-afternoon sunlight blinded her briefly after the dappled shade of the undergrowth, and it took her a moment to make out the figure striding towards the nurses’ home. It was only as it drew closer that she recognised the shock of curly dark hair . . .

‘Nick?’

Her voice came out as barely a whisper but he still heard it, his head lifting towards the sound. He saw her and suddenly he was running towards her.

They fell into each other’s arms, clinging together as if their very lives depended on it.

‘I thought you’d gone,’ Dora whispered. ‘I came to find you.’

He pulled away from her, holding her at arms’ length. ‘Did you?’

‘Your landlady told me you’d gone this morning. I thought the fair had left.’

‘It did. I got halfway to Waltham Abbey and realised I couldn’t leave you. Not the way things were.’

Dora’s heart lifted. ‘You’ve changed your mind? You’re not going?’

Nick shook his head. ‘I’ve got to go,’ he said. ‘I’ve given my word. You understand that, don’t you?’

‘I know,’ she sighed.

‘But I’ll be back,’ he promised. ‘And I’ll bring the money with me.’

‘I don’t care about the money!’

‘But I do. I want to marry you, Dora Doyle. But I need to know you’ll be here waiting for me?’

She smiled up at him. ‘I will,’ she said. ‘Always. You should know that by now.’

Nick’s face relaxed. ‘I know I should. But sometimes I can’t quite believe it.’ He pulled her back into his arms, his lips pressed against her hair. ‘God, I’ve missed you so much.’

‘Me too. I’ve been such a fool, I didn’t mean to get angry with you, I was so worried, that’s all.’

‘I know. And then I got angry because I thought you didn’t care.’

‘What a pair we are, eh? We’ve wasted so much time.’

‘Well, I don’t want to waste any more.’

He kissed her. Dora melted against him, her hands going up into the thick springiness of his hair, trying to capture every last sensation of taste and touch as if she might never experience it again. They stumbled backwards, Dora leaning against the wall. They were out of sight of the nurses’ home, but Dora was so dizzy with longing she didn’t care. Nick’s body pressed against her, and her own body kindled in response. She moved her hands down to his belt, tugging his shirt free, and heard him groan against her mouth as her hands found his warm, smooth skin.

‘Oh, God, I want you so much,’ he whispered hoarsely.

Suddenly Helen’s words came back to her, loud and clear: ‘I don’t regret a single thing.’

Dora moved her head, breaking free of him. Nick looked down at her, his eyes troubled.

‘What is it?’ He frowned. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – you know I would never try anything.’

‘I want you to,’ she whispered. ‘I want us to be together.’ She could hardly believe she was saying the words. They seemed to be coming from somewhere deep inside her, from a place she couldn’t control. ‘One night, before you go away. I want us to have one night together.’

He stepped back, his frown deepening. ‘Do you . . . really mean that? You want to?’

She nodded. ‘More than anything in the world.’

‘But we can’t. It wouldn’t be right. Supposing you got found out . . .’

Dora put her finger to his lips, feeling the softness of his mouth. ‘I don’t care.’ She was so dizzy with longing she would have run away with him then to the travelling fair and not given it a second thought. ‘I just want to be with you. Please, Nick? Don’t you want that, too?’

His eyes were glazed with desire. ‘More than you can ever imagine.’ He kissed her again, more urgently this time, his tongue exploring her mouth, entwining with hers. Dora’s body ached in response.

‘Where can we go?’ she whispered.

He thought for a moment. ‘You know that guest house on Roman Road?’

‘The Albert?’ Dora nodded.

‘That’s the one. I could book a room there? It’s a bit seedy, but –’

‘I don’t care.’

He trapped her face between his hands. ‘Are you sure about this, Dora? I don’t want to force you.’

‘You’re not forcing me. I want this, Nick. I want you.’ She smiled at him, trying to reassure him. ‘I’ll fetch some things and meet you there in half an hour, all right?’

He nodded. ‘Half an hour.’

Her legs could barely support her as she hurried up the stairs to her room. But once in the safety of the attic, her nerve started to fail her, and she shivered at the thought of what lay ahead.

It wasn’t like her to rush into things, but she had rushed headlong into this without thinking. Now she was assailed by apprehension and doubt. Should she be doing this? She had often imagined what it would be like to make love to Nick. But in her dreams the first time had been romantic, special, in a beautiful room with sun flooding through the curtains. It had never been in a seedy bed and breakfast on Roman Road.

She wondered if she was doing the right thing. She wanted him desperately, but she was terrified, too. What if she couldn’t do it? What if she disappointed him, failed him somehow?

The image of Alf Doyle pushed its way into Dora’s mind then. He had abused her, taken away her innocence, raped her in her own bed while her mother slept next door. There had been a time when she thought she would never be able to be with another man. But then she’d fallen in love with Nick, and slowly but surely her desire for him had overcome her revulsion.

Now Dora loved him completely, and wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone. But would she be able to give herself to him? Or would the spectre of Alf Doyle make her freeze and ruin everything?

And what if Nick knew? What if he could somehow tell that she had been with another man, and turned away from her? She would rather never know what it was like to love him than have him reject her.

She was still troubled by her thoughts when Millie returned.

‘It’s a shame you couldn’t have joined us for tea, you missed a treat,’ she said. ‘Did you manage to do your errand?’

‘Errand?’ Dora stared at her blankly.

‘The reason you had to rush off?’ Millie frowned at her. ‘Are you all right, Doyle? You look rather peaky.’

‘I’m fine.’ Dora shook herself. ‘I have to go out, and I won’t be back until morning.’ She turned away, certain her guilt was written all over her face. ‘Could you cover for me?’

‘Of course,’ Millie said. ‘You’ve covered for me enough times, it’s nice to return the favour.’ Her gaze fell on Dora’s bag. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? Nothing’s happened, has it?’

Dora shook her head. Millie sent her a sideways look, but said nothing. After three years, she understood Dora well enough not to ask any questions.

The Albert boarding house was a seedy, rundown place. Dora did her best not to notice the stench of damp and cats, or the way her feet stuck to the peeling linoleum as she stepped inside the dark hallway. A single bulb flickered weakly overhead.

‘Can I help you?’ A scrawny woman came out of the doorway at the far end of the passage.

‘I—’

But before Dora could speak, the woman said, ‘Is your name Dora?’

She nodded. She quickly stuck her left hand in her pocket, conscious of the cheap curtain ring she’d stuck on the third finger. She was sure the woman would spot it in an instant.

‘A lad called Nick called round. He left a note for you.’

Dora felt the ground shift under her feet. ‘A note?’

‘All a bit mysterious, if you ask me. He said you’d arranged to meet here, then handed me this and told me to give it to you.’ She rummaged in the pocket of her pinny and pulled out an envelope. ‘Course, I told him I wasn’t no errand girl, but he gave me a tanner for my trouble.’ She nodded at the note Dora held limply in her hand. ‘Well, ain’t you going to open it?’

Dora stared down at the envelope, with her name scrawled on it in Nick’s handwriting. She didn’t want to open it, she was too afraid of what it might say. But conscious of the woman’s expectant eyes on her, she finally tore it open.

‘Dear Dora, I decided it would be better if I went and caught up with the fair tonight after all. Please don’t be angry with me. I want you so much, but you deserve better than this. I’ll be back soon. Please look after Danny for me. All my love, Nick.’

‘Well?’ The woman searched her face. ‘Is it bad news?’

Dora looked down at the note in her hand, and smiled. Nick understood her better than she understood herself.

‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s not bad news at all.’

‘ABSOLUTELY NOT,’ SAID
Katie. ‘I forbid it, do you hear me?’

Effie hardly listened to her sister as she sifted through her wardrobe, looking for something suitable to wear for her date with Hugo. She had always been the best-dressed girl in Killarney, but now all her dresses seemed too homespun and old-fashioned for a sophisticated night out.

Meanwhile her sister droned on and on.

‘You shouldn’t even think about courting,’ Katie was saying. ‘You have your PTS exams coming up in a few weeks, don’t forget. You should be thinking about your studies, not boys!’

‘And you’ve got your Finals coming up in a few months, but I’ve yet to see you slaving over your books!’ Effie reminded her.

‘That’s different.’

‘I don’t see how.’ Effie pulled out her favourite green dress. ‘What about this? Will it do, do you think?’

Katie tutted. ‘You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?’

‘I’ve listened to nothing else for days!’ Ever since Effie mentioned that Hugo had asked her out to dinner, Katie had been going on about it, coming up with reasons why she shouldn’t go. It was worse than one of Sister Parker’s lectures.

‘Can I borrow this?’ Effie reached for Katie’s lipstick, but her sister snatched it out of her hand.

‘Over my dead body! Mammy will kill us both if I let you put on make-up.’

‘Please, Katie! I can’t go out looking like this. Just a tiny bit, please? Or some rouge . . .’

Katie clutched her cosmetics bag to her chest. ‘You’re not going out with this boy, Effie. And you’re certainly not going out looking like – like a tart!’

‘You’re impossible!’ Effie snatched up her hairbrush and went over to the mirror. ‘Why don’t you want me to have any fun?’

‘I don’t mind you having fun,’ Katie said. ‘I just don’t want you going out with medical students. I know what they’re like, Effie. They’re lazy, they spend their whole time gambling and having parties and getting up to all sorts. Believe me, this man’s intentions won’t be honourable.’

Effie smiled as she dragged the brush through her hair. ‘Now you sound just like Da, going on about young men and their intentions.’

‘I don’t care. Someone has to keep an eye on you.’

‘You’re a fine one to keep an eye on anyone! I’ve still got all those letters you sent me, telling me what you were getting up to in London.’

She saw Katie’s cheeks turn pink in the mirror behind her. ‘That’s different,’ she mumbled.

‘How is it different?’

‘I’m older than you, for a start.’

‘You were my age when you first came to London,’ Effie reminded her. ‘Besides, just because you’re older doesn’t make you any wiser. I’ve got a brain in my head. I know what I’m doing.’