Nightingales on Call (44 page)

The Assistant Matron stared at her. ‘Surely you can’t be taking her seriously? It’s clear to see the girl is unhinged. I blame the Irish blood. Coming in here, spouting all kinds of nonsense about leprechauns and the like!’

‘All the same, there was a modicum of sense to it,’ Kathleen said. ‘Mental confusion
is
one of the symptoms of kidney infection, and Dr McKay said Sister Sutton’s case was quite severe. That it was likely she had been suffering a mild form for months before it became acute.’

‘Yes, but Sister Sutton would never do such a thing!’

‘Not in her right mind,’ Kathleen said.

Miss Hanley looked quietly furious. ‘So you’re accepting the word of a silly student nurse over the Home Sister?’

Kathleen Fox was silent. For once, she truly didn’t know what to think.

‘What do you think?’

Lucy’s mother opened the magazine and set it down on the coffee table in front of her. ‘Inside the charming London home of Emerald Channing’ the headline read, followed by several photographs of Mrs Channing, wealthy American hostess, draped across various chairs and sofas in her salon.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Lucy said admiringly.

‘I wish I could say the same about her.’ Clarissa shuddered. ‘Ghastly woman. But absolutely pots of money and no idea how to spend it. Do you know, she seriously considered having some kind of artwork done on her ceiling? I told her, it’s South Kensington, not the Sistine Chapel. But at least they mentioned my name in the article.’ She pointed it out. ‘Hopefully it will lead to more commissions.’

Lucy smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother so happy and animated.

‘You sound as if you’re quite busy already?’ she said.

‘Yes, I am. Things are really taking off, thanks to Mr Alderson. He’s been an absolute wonder, introducing me all around the place. For someone who’s only been in town for a year, he knows simply everyone.’

‘Yes, he seems like the kind of man who’d ingratiate himself everywhere he goes,’ Lucy said sourly.

Her mother sent her a reproachful look. ‘Now, Lucy, don’t be mean. Leo has been terribly helpful. I couldn’t have launched my business without him.’

‘I’m sure you could,’ she said. ‘Anyway, he owes it to us to help, since he was the one who got us into this trouble in the first place.’

‘That’s just it, you see. He didn’t.’ Clarissa closed the magazine and leaned back against the cushions of the sofa. ‘It was one of Leo’s colleagues who got hold of the story, through a former employee of your father’s. Leo found out a few weeks ago, from his editor. I suppose it was bound to happen, with all those disgruntled people being put out of jobs. At any rate, it wasn’t Leo’s fault. If anything,
he
was the one who got into trouble. The poor man was fired when they found out he’d sat on the story to protect us.’

Lucy stared at her. ‘I didn’t know that!’

‘Oh, yes, poor darling. But now he says he’s going to write a novel about the British upper classes. I can’t wait to read it. He’s such an amusing man, it’s bound to be absolutely scurrilous.’ Then, as an afterthought, Clarissa added, ‘I’ve invited him to supper tonight, by the way.’

‘Oh, Mother! Why did you do that? I was looking forward to spending a pleasant evening.’

‘It will be pleasant, darling. I told you, Leo’s a charming man when you get to know him.’

‘Well, I’m immune to his charms,’ Lucy said crossly. She reached up and smoothed her hair. ‘And I’m in the most dreadful state, too. I haven’t been to the hairdresser in months.’

‘Why should that worry you, if you’re as immune to Leo’s charms as you claim to be?’ her mother teased. She leaned forward confidingly. ‘Between you and me, I think the only reason he has been so helpful to me is so he can get into your good books.’

‘Stop it, Mother!’ Lucy snapped, but she couldn’t help feeling rather pleased at the idea.

There was a knock on the door. ‘There’s your admirer now!’ Clarissa smiled. ‘Go and let him in, please, darling, while I finish supper.’

It was a wonderful, relaxed evening, full of laughter. Her mother’s friend Lavinia and her husband came up from downstairs and entertained them all with outrageous stories. It was positively Bohemian, nothing like the stuffy dinner parties they’d had in Eaton Place.

Her mother had made sure Lucy was sitting next to Leo.

‘I’m sorry you lost your job,’ she said to him when she had the chance. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Would you have cared?’

‘Probably not, at the time.’

‘How about now?’

She glanced sideways at him. He was rather attractive, once she allowed herself to admit it.

‘Mother also tells me you’re writing a novel?’ she said. ‘Is it as racy as she thinks?’

‘I don’t know about racy.’ He swirled his wine around in his glass. ‘It’s about a young American who comes to England and meets a very grand society girl.’

‘That doesn’t sound like much of a plot to me.’

‘You’re right,’ Leo agreed. ‘She’s a real pain in the rear and it’s kind of hate at first sight. But then she loses all her money and he realises she’s not so bad after all.’

‘A riches to rags story?’

‘Cinderella in reverse.’

‘And does it have a happy ending?’ asked Lucy.

He leaned towards her, his blue eyes meeting hers. ‘You tell me,’ he said softly.

A sharp knock on the door broke the spell. Clarissa looked up, frowning. ‘Who can that be?’

‘I’ll go,’ Lucy said, folding up her napkin and laying it beside her plate.

It was Gordon Bird. He stood on the doorstep, clutching his hat in his hands, looking as lugubrious as usual.

‘Uncle Gordon!’ she greeted him happily.

‘I hoped you’d be here, Lucy. I tried telephoning you at the nurses’ home but they said you were out.’ He glanced past her. ‘You’re entertaining. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s all right, please come in.’ She stood aside to let him enter. ‘Mother won’t mind at all. It’s very different from the old days, when she used to fuss for hours over table plans. But then, I suppose it’s hard to fuss for hours when your table’s the size of a postage stamp!’

She laughed, then saw her godfather’s sombre expression and stopped abruptly. Uncle Gordon always looked grave, but this time something about the way he looked at her sent a warning shiver up her spine. ‘What is it, Uncle Gordon? What’s wrong?’

Please, she begged silently. No more bad news. I don’t think I can stand it.

‘It’s your father,’ he said. ‘He’s been found.’

‘
I MUST SAY,
I was surprised to hear from you at last,’ Alf said. ‘I thought you’d changed your mind?’

‘Let’s get this over with, shall we?’ Dora shivered in the chill breeze that rose from the canal. It was past nine, and all she wanted was to be safe back at the nurses’ home. The thought of being alone in the dark with Alf Doyle scared her, although she refused to let it show as she confronted him. She knew he had chosen the isolated meeting place deliberately to unnerve her.

‘Suits me, love. Where’s my money, then?’ His eyes gleamed greedily.

Dora took the note out of her purse and handed it to him. Alf looked at it, his mouth curling in derision. ‘A fiver? We said twenty.’

‘I ain’t got it.’

He thrust the money back at her. ‘Then we ain’t got a deal.’

‘But that’s all I have.’

He regarded her, a smile spreading across his broad face. ‘You know what I reckon? You don’t really want me to go. That’s why you ain’t come up with the money.’

He reached out for her, but Dora shrank away. ‘Don’t touch me!’

‘Don’t be like that. That’s not what you say to that Riley boy when you’re letting him paw you, is it?’ He leered at her. ‘Down here, wasn’t it? By the canal? That’s your favourite spot, as I recall.’

Sickness rose in her throat as she remembered the rustling in the bushes and the footsteps she’d put down to her imagination. And then there had been all the other times she’d imagined she was being followed. ‘You’ve been watching me!’

‘Had to keep an eye on you, didn’t I? I must say, you put on a right show with that boy, kissing and cuddling. But I bet I could teach him a thing or two, eh?’

Dora pushed the money back at him. Her nerve gave way, flooding her chest with panic. ‘Take it, please. I’ll get the rest to you later.’

‘And pigs might fly!’ Alf shook his head. ‘Besides, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think I want to go after all.’

‘But you promised—’

‘Yeah, well, I’ve got cosy here, ain’t I? I reckon it won’t be too much longer before your mum’s begging me to move back in. And once I’m back under her roof, that’ll be it for me. No one’s going to warn me off again. Not you, nor your thug of a boyfriend.’

Dora frowned. ‘What’s Nick got to do with this?’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t know!’ Alf snarled. ‘You’re the one who put him up to it, ain’t you? Collaring me in a dark alley like that.’

‘Nick threatened you?’

‘He did more than threaten me.’ Alf put his hand up to his jaw. ‘Made it plain what would happen if I showed my face round here again. As if I stood a chance against that vicious little sod!’

Dora hardly took in what he’d said, she was reeling with shock at the idea that Nick had confronted him. How had he known? And what did he know? Could it be that all this time he’d known her secret?

‘Still, he ain’t here any more, is he?’ Alf continued with a sneer. ‘I can come and go as I please.’

‘He’ll be back,’ Dora said. ‘The fair will be back in London soon, and then he’ll come home.’

‘Is that what you think?’ Alf grinned at her. ‘Well, I got news for you, my girl. The fair’s already back. And I don’t see any sign of your boyfriend, do you?’

All her blood rushed to her feet, leaving her light-headed. ‘You’re lying,’ she said flatly.

‘Go and see for yourself, if you don’t believe me. The fair’s in Wanstead now. Not a million miles away, is it?’ Alf grinned nastily. ‘You’d think Nick would find the time to come and visit his girl.’ He shook his head. ‘Poor Dora. Looks like you’ve been left in the lurch again, eh?’

He’s lying, she told herself. He’s only saying it to hurt me. But she couldn’t stop a feeling of dread from creeping through her. Wasn’t it just as she’d feared: Nick had grown tired of her and the whole idea of divorce, and just upped sticks and gone?

And if he knew what Alf had done to her, then surely that was even more reason why he would stay away. She suddenly remembered all the times he’d stopped himself from touching her. That night when she’d offered to spend the night with him, but he’d run away. At the time, she’d told herself it was because he cared for her, respected her. But now she wondered if the real reason was because he couldn’t bring himself to touch her because she was damaged goods.

Alf seemed to read her thoughts. ‘Go on, tell me you ain’t been thinking the same thing,’ he goaded softly. ‘Let’s face it, he ain’t got much to rush home to, has he? You ain’t exactly Jean Harlow.’ He looked her up and down with contempt. ‘And from what I remember, you just used to lay there like a sack of coal. Not much to look at either. Not like your sister . . .’

Dora moved to slap him but he grabbed her wrist, his fingers biting into her flesh. She recoiled from his smell of stale beer and bad teeth. ‘But I do remember you liked it rough,’ he whispered, pushing his bristly face close to hers.

‘Leave her alone!’

Alf dropped his hold on Dora and swung round. Rose Doyle stood above them on the path, looking down, her face a mask of fury in the moonlight.

‘Mum!’

‘Rosie, I can explain.’ Alf backed away from Dora, holding up his hands. ‘It wasn’t me, I swear. It was all her. She asked me to meet her tonight. I – I didn’t want to but she said she’d make trouble for me if I didn’t.’ His panicked gaze darted between Dora and Rose as she picked her way down the bank towards them. ‘You’ve got to believe me, Rosie, I’m telling you the truth. She made me do it—’

‘And what about my little Josie? Did
she
make you do it, too?’ Rose’s voice was raw with emotion.

‘I—’ Alf had barely opened his mouth before Rose flew at him, kicking and spitting and clawing at his face like a wild animal. Caught off balance, he stumbled to his knees but she threw herself on top of him, fists pounding.

‘I’ll kill you, Alf Doyle! So help me, I’ll kill you for what you did to my girls!’

She would, too, Dora realised. Rose Doyle was a woman possessed, wild with white-hot fury. Even Alf, bigger and stronger than she was, didn’t stand a chance. Dora heard his muffled cries for mercy as he lay there, arms thrown up to protect himself from the blows that rained down on him.

‘Leave it, Mum.’ Dora caught hold of her mother and dragged her off. Rose fought against her, wriggling and twisting in her grip, still kicking out at Alf’s hunched body.

‘Rose, please. You’ve got it all wrong,’ he pleaded.

‘You’re right there! I was wrong about you all these years, wasn’t I? Letting you live under my roof, when all the time . . .’

Fresh fury gave Rose a new burst of strength. She broke loose from Dora’s grip and threw herself at Alf again. This time Dora managed to grab her mother’s wrist, holding on to it with all her strength.

She saw the flash of fear in Alf’s face as he lay there gasping for breath, arms wrapped protectively around his battered body.

‘You’d better go,’ Dora told him.

He staggered to his feet. Blood oozed from his shattered nose. ‘Bloody bitch!’ he growled, voice muffled by his cut and swollen lips. ‘You want to know why I had to have your daughters? ’Cos you weren’t woman enough for me!’

‘And you ain’t going to be man enough for anyone by the time I’ve finished with you!’ Rose spat back, fighting against Dora’s restraining hands.

‘Go!’ Dora told him, struggling to keep a grip on her mother. ‘Go while you still can.’

‘And don’t come back this time!’ Rose screamed at Alf as he staggered off, climbing the bank, still clutching his ribs. ‘Because if I see you again, so help me you really will end up floating in the Thames with your throat cut!’

She struggled in Dora’s arms as they watched him climb the bank and disappear towards the street. ‘Let me go after him!’ she screamed. ‘Let me kill the bastard!’