Read Nightingales on Call Online
Authors: Donna Douglas
Lucy gave a forced laugh. ‘Why would he do such a thing?’
‘Because he can’t face the fact that he’s failed. The great Sir Bernard Lane, Britain’s own King Midas, faces financial ruin. Imagine how ashamed he must feel. I guess if I were him I’d probably want to run away and hide, too.’
‘You don’t know my father. He would never run away from anything.’ Lucy was glad the darkness hid her guilty expression.
‘So where is he?’
‘I told you, he’s gone to America.’
Lucy carried on walking. She could see the nurses’ home ahead of her. Another twenty yards and she would be safe.
‘I don’t know why you’re defending him when he’s abandoned you and your mother,’ Leo called after her.
Lucy froze. Leo’s footsteps crunched on the gravel as he approached her, but she couldn’t turn around to face him. She was too afraid he would look into her eyes and know he was right.
‘If my sources are correct then your father has staked everything on this deal, including his personal fortune.’ He was standing close to her now, close enough to touch. ‘Your family stands to lose everything. What kind of man would run off and abandon his loved ones to that kind of fate?’
Lucy took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Not my father,’ she said.
‘No?’
She flinched as she felt Leo’s hand on her arm. Then she realised he was pressing a card into her hand. ‘This is where you can find me,’ he said softly. ‘Give me a call when you’re tired of defending him.’
EFFIE HAD FORGOTTEN
how long Sunday morning Mass could be.
Without her mammy to nag her into going, she hadn’t been to church at all since she had arrived in London. There had been so many more exciting things to experience, going to Mass was the last thing on her mind.
But now she kneeled down at the back of the church beside her sister Bridget, her hands clasped firmly together, praying with all her might that Our Father might forgive her and see fit to answer her pleas.
Because He was her only hope.
Her ears were still ringing from the reprimand Matron had given her that morning. Effie hadn’t imagined it would be that bad as she lined up outside Miss Fox’s office with all the other nervous nurses awaiting their turn for a telling off. She knew from her interview that Matron was a lovely woman, softly spoken, with kind grey eyes. She wasn’t a dried-up old dragon like her Assistant Matron, Miss Hanley, either. If anyone might remember what it was like to be young and foolish, it was Kathleen Fox.
But the woman who faced Effie across the desk was not the friendly, smiling Matron she remembered. Those grey eyes were like flint beneath the starched canopy of her headdress as she took Effie apart with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel.
‘You are in a very privileged position, Nurse O’Hara,’ she had said, her naturally soft voice tinged with ice. ‘Hundreds of girls apply to train at the Nightingale, and most of them are unsuccessful. You were very fortunate to have been chosen.’
Effie remembered her sister’s warning to her to keep her head down, agree with everything her superiors said, apologise even when it wasn’t her fault and on no account to answer back. ‘I know, Matron,’ she whispered.
‘If you are aware of that, then why are you so determined to waste such an opportunity?’ Matron glanced through the notes in front of her. ‘According to Sister Parker, you are a capable girl, but you are lazy and inattentive. Sister Sutton also tells me that you are noisy, disruptive and have no idea about punctuality.’ Matron looked up. ‘Does that sound like the kind of girl we would want in this hospital?’
Effie felt a lump rising in her throat. She shook her head, not daring to speak.
‘I have to tell you, Nurse O’Hara, that your future at the Nightingale is by no means certain,’ Matron went on. ‘Preliminary Training is nothing more than a trial period. Even if you pass your PTS examination – and I have to tell you, from what Sister Parker reports that doesn’t look likely – we may still decide not to accept you for further training. To be a Nightingale nurse is to be acknowledged as the best. Consequently we expect high standards. And you, O’Hara, are falling very far short at the moment.’
Effie stared at her. Until that moment it simply hadn’t occurred to her that she might be thrown out.
But now, as she kneeled in church, the sunshine through the stained-glass windows scattering jewels of coloured light over the worn stone floor, Effie had to accept the awful truth. She was going home.
The service finished and she followed her sister out into the sunshine. The air was fresh after the heavy scent of incense inside the church.
‘Do you mind if I go for a walk?’ Effie asked as Bridget turned to head back to the hospital. She couldn’t face returning to another lecture from Katie.
‘I suppose not, as long as you don’t get yourself lost. Do you want me to come with you?’
‘No – thank you. I’d rather be on my own, if you don’t mind?’
Bridget frowned at her. ‘Are you all right? You’ve been in an odd mood all morning.’
‘I’m fine.’ Effie winced at the lie. Now she had dishonesty to add to her list of sins. And she hadn’t even been to confession. ‘I just need a breath of fresh air, that’s all.’
‘See you don’t get into any trouble,’ Bridget warned her.
Effie sighed. It’s a bit late for that, she thought.
Victoria Park was bathed in midsummer sunshine. Effie sat on a bench and watched the boats on the lake, trying to lift her spirits. But the happiness and laughter all around her only made her realise how much she would miss it all when she was sent back to Ireland. How would she ever be able to bear the shame of being the only O’Hara sister not to become a Nightingale girl? Her mammy would never let her hear the last of it. She would grow old and die in Killarney under her mother’s watchful eye.
And she would never see Hugo again. After last night, she was almost certain she was in love with him. But once she was sent away he would probably forget all about her.
Effie pulled the slim textbook out of her bag and opened it. She had brought it with her, hoping that different surroundings might somehow make it easier to take in. But as she forced herself to read a chapter, all she could think of was how far behind she was. Catching up seemed like a hopeless task.
The words blurred on the page as hot tears of frustration sprang to her eyes.
Effie closed the book with a sigh. It didn’t look as if anyone was going to answer her prayer after all.
‘Heel! Come back, you daft bugger!’
Jess hauled at the lead, yanking Sparky back to her side. He strained on the end of her arm, yapping in frustration at the duck waddling away, just out of reach of his nose.
She couldn’t blame the poor little thing for being overexcited. He spent most of his time with Sister Sutton in her office or her flat. The only time he saw the world was his daily amble around the grounds of the nurses’ home. No wonder he was always so bad-tempered.
Which was why she’d convinced Sister Sutton to let her take him for a stroll in the park. It had taken nearly a week to persuade her, and even then the Home Sister had only relented on the understanding that Jess shouldn’t let him off the lead or out of her sight.
But it had been worth it. Sparky loved every minute of his walk, paddling on the edge of the lake, snuffling through the grass and sniffing trees.
‘Come on, boy, time to go home. Sister will be worrying about you.’
As Jess turned to follow the tree-lined avenue back towards the gate, she spotted Effie sitting on a bench ahead of her. Even from a distance Jess could tell she was upset. Her dark head drooped like a flower on the slender stalk of her neck.
Don’t get involved, Jess warned herself, pulling on Sparky’s lead to turn back the way they’d come. Whatever’s wrong, it’s none of your business.
She started to walk away, but she couldn’t get the image of the girl’s downcast face out of her mind. Before she even knew what she was doing, Jess had turned around again and was walking towards her.
‘Effie?’
She looked up with a wobbly smile. ‘Hello, Jess. Fancy seeing you here.’
Jess noticed the book in her hands. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were studying. I won’t disturb you.’
‘No, please, you’re not disturbing me. I could do with the company.’
Jess sat down beside her. ‘I can’t stay long,’ she said. ‘Sister Sutton will be worried about Sparky.’
Effie didn’t reply. Sparky stood on his back legs and propped his paws on her knees, but she ignored him. She stared out across the lake, lost in her own thoughts.
Jess tried again. ‘Lovely day, ain’t it?’
‘If you say so.’
Jess sent her a sidelong look. ‘Blimey, you look like you’ve lost a shilling and found a farthing. What’s up with you?’
Effie sighed. ‘I’m going home,’ she said.
Jess sat forward. ‘Back to Ireland? Why?’
‘Because I’m not good enough to stay here.’
And then it all came out, like a dam bursting. Effie explained that she had been sent to Matron, who had as good as told her she had no chance of passing her PTS.
‘And even if I do, they probably won’t let me finish my training here, so I may as well not bother,’ the girl said. ‘I’ll be the only one of my sisters not to be a nurse. It’s not fair! I tried so hard.’
Jess said nothing. It wasn’t worth pointing out that she’d never seen Effie with a book in her hands. The poor girl was already unhappy enough, without making it worse.
‘And I was just starting to enjoy being here, too,’ Effie went on. ‘I’d made some friends, and I have a boyfriend. I daresay Hugo will forget all about me once I’m back in Killarney.’
Tears started to roll down her cheeks and she fished up her sleeve, looking for her handkerchief. Jess pulled hers out of her pocket and handed it to her.
‘Here, it’s clean.’
‘Thanks.’ Effie took it and blew her nose loudly.
‘When is your PTS exam?’ Jess asked.
‘In two weeks.’
‘That’s plenty of time for you to get some studying in, surely?’
Effie shook her head. ‘It’s hopeless,’ she said, sniffing back her tears. ‘I can’t seem to lodge any of it in my head. I don’t even understand half the words in this book.’
Jess glanced at her textbook. It was the same one Sister Sutton had given her.
‘Can’t you revise with the other girls?’ she asked. ‘They’ll help you, surely?’
Effie pulled a face. ‘They’ll only make fun of me. You know what Padgett is like.’
‘What about your sister?’
‘Katie’s too busy studying for her own exams. Besides, I don’t want her to know how bad things are. I’ll never hear the last of it.’
‘You mean you’d rather go back to Ireland than admit you need help?’ Jess said.
‘I suppose not.’ Effie sighed. She picked up the book. ‘I just wish I knew someone who understood all this, and could explain it to me.’ She opened it and showed Jess one of the pages. ‘I mean, look at all these bones and muscles. How am I supposed to remember whether the tibia is bigger than the fibula, or the other way round?’
‘The fibula is thin, like a flute. The tibia is thick, like a tuba,’ Jess replied without thinking.
Effie frowned at her. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘It’s an easy way of remembering,’ Jess said. ‘Flute and tuba begin with the same letters as fibula and tibia, you see? That’s how you can tell which way round . . .’ She stopped, seeing Effie’s expression. ‘What? Why are you staring at me like that?’
‘How do you know so much about anatomy?’
Jess felt herself blushing. ‘I must have heard you nurses talking about it.’ She rose to her feet. ‘Anyway, I’d best get back. Sister Sutton will think I’ve kidnapped Sparky.’
She set off, walking away briskly, but Effie followed her. ‘Wait, Jess. Tell me the truth. Where did you learn all this?’
Jess slowed down. ‘Sister Sutton lent me a book,’ she admitted reluctantly.
‘And you understood it?’
Jess scowled at her. ‘I’m not as stupid as I look.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.’ Effie looked shame-faced. ‘I’m just surprised that anyone understands it, that’s all.’
‘It’s not too hard, if you work out ways of remembering things.’
Jess saw the spark of hope kindle in Effie’s eyes, and realised with a sinking heart what the girl was thinking before she even opened her mouth. ‘Could you teach me?’ she asked.
Jess shook her head. ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea,’ she said. ‘I’m not a proper teacher.’
‘You’ve already taught me the difference between a tibia and a fibula, and that’s something no one else has managed!’
Jess smiled in spite of herself. ‘Yes, but I don’t think Sister Sutton would like it. Besides, I haven’t got time.’
‘Please?’ Effie begged. ‘I’m desperate, Jess, truly I am. You’re my last hope.’ She snatched up Jess’ hand and clung to it. ‘I’m begging you. I’ll even pay you . . .’
‘I don’t want your money.’
‘Then I’ll just have to appeal to your charitable nature.’ Effie squeezed her hand harder. ‘Please, Jess? I don’t want to go home to Ireland. You’re my only chance. Please say you’ll help me?’
Jess looked into the girl’s face, so full of hope. She wanted to say no, she knew she should, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
‘I suppose I could do it for a few days,’ she said. ‘But you’ll need to work very hard,’ she warned. ‘I won’t put up with any slacking or excuses.’
‘No, miss.’ Effie looked solemn.
‘I mean it. Any messing about, and I’m giving up.’
‘I’ll work hard, I swear.’ Effie beamed. ‘Oh, Jess, you’re the answer to my prayers!’
‘I dunno about that,’ Jess muttered, embarrassed. She looked down at Sparky, who sent her a weary look back.
‘You are, you really are.’ Effie hopped up and down in delight. ‘When can we start?’
Jess took the book from her. ‘No time like the present, I suppose,’ she said. ‘Walk with me, and I’ll test you on the way back to the hospital.’
IT WAS ALWAYS
sad when a patient died. But it was even more heartbreaking when it was a baby.
It was one of the juniors, Elliott, who found little Bobby Turner in his cot, just after they came on duty at seven. She was still trembling as Sister Parry delivered her morning report to the nurses gathered around her desk in the middle of the ward.