The Nightingale Girls (3 page)

‘’Course they’re not, Jose. But I will have to live at the nurses’ home.’

‘How long for?’

‘Dunno. Forever, I s’pose.’

‘You mean, you won’t live here with us no more?’ Josie’s wide brown eyes filled with tears as she took in the news.

‘I’ll be able to come and visit,’ Dora said. ‘I’ll keep an eye on you all, make sure you’re keeping up with your schoolwork and Bea’s behaving herself.’

‘That’ll be the day!’

‘Then you’ll just have to keep her in line, won’t you?’ Dora put her arm around her sister’s skinny shoulders. ‘You’re the big sister now, Josie. It’s your turn to show the little ones what’s what.’

‘I’ll try,’ Josie promised. ‘I’ll miss you, Dor,’ she whispered.

‘I’ll miss you too.’

As she looked around the shabby back yard, it began to dawn on Dora what she was leaving. Griffin Street was far from fancy. The narrow terrace of cramped houses, overshadowed by looming railway arches, had seen better days. Brickwork cracked, roofs sagged, and damp seeped through the walls.

Dora’s stepfather Alf had been all for renting them a better place when he and Rose got married. He was earning
enough for them to move into one of those new blocks of flats the Corporation was building, with electricity, inside toilets, proper bathrooms and the rest of it. But Rose wouldn’t go without her mum, and Winnie had no intention of leaving the only home she’d known for fifty years.

‘I’ve lived here since I got married, and they’ll have to carry me out in my box,’ she’d declared. ‘I don’t want to live somewhere not a soul speaks to each other.’

And she was right. In spite of its faults, Griffin Street was a close-knit community of neighbours who laughed together, cried together, and saw each other through good times and bad. There was always someone to have a giggle with, a shoulder to cry on or to lend you a few bob when the rent man was due.

At least when Rose married Alf, they had been able to afford to take over the whole house, instead of making do all cramped together in a couple of rooms on the ground floor, as they had been.

It still wasn’t grand. They did all their cooking on an ancient range in the kitchen, and washed at the sink in the tiny curtained-off scullery. But it was homely, and Rose kept it like a palace. The step was whitestoned every day, the windows shone, net curtains sparkled and the house always smelt of polish.

Dora knew she’d miss it. But there was one person she wouldn’t miss.

‘Aye-aye. What’s all this, then?’ As if on cue, Alf Doyle stood in the back doorway, smiling around at the scene. He was a big man, over six foot tall, with thick black hair, a broad face and bright blue eyes.

Bea ran to him, Little Alfie toddling behind her, and he scooped them up easily, one under each arm.

‘We’re celebrating.’ Rose’s face lit up at the sight of her husband. ‘Dora’s got a place to train as a nurse.’

‘Is that right?’ Alf turned to face her, the two children still wriggling under his arms. ‘Aren’t you the clever one?’

‘But she’s got to leave home and move away forever,’ Josie put in.

‘Has she now? I don’t remember anyone asking me if that was all right,’ he frowned.

‘You can’t stop me,’ Dora’s chin lifted defiantly.

‘I can do what I like until you’re twenty-one, my girl.’

Their eyes met, clashing in mute challenge.

‘He’s only teasing,’ her mother broke the tense silence. ‘Your dad would never stop you bettering yourself.’

‘He’s not my dad.’

‘I still say what goes.’

Not for much longer, Dora was about to say. Then she caught the pleading look in her mother’s eyes and kept silent.

‘We should celebrate,’ Nanna suggested. ‘I dunno about you, but I reckon a nice bottle of stout would go down a treat.’

‘Good idea,’ Rose said brightly. ‘What do you say, Alf?’

All eyes turned to him. Still glaring at Dora, he lowered Bea and Little Alfie to the ground and dug into his pocket.

‘Not seeing your miserable boat race around here would be a cause for celebration, I s’pose.’ He pulled out a handful of change. ‘Josie, go to the chippie. Fish and chips all round, I reckon.’

‘But I’ve made a stew!’ Nanna Winnie protested.

Alf grimaced. ‘All the more reason to get fish and chips, then.’

‘Can I have a saveloy?’ Bea asked.

‘You can have anything you like, my darlin’, as long as it keeps you quiet.’

Dora watched her mother as she followed him inside.
At forty-two years old, Rose was still a beautiful woman. Her dark hair was threaded with grey but no one would ever have guessed her slim figure had brought six children into the world.

‘I wish you wouldn’t talk back to him like that,’ Nanna said to Dora as they went back inside. ‘Alf’s not a bad bloke. And he makes your mum happy. She deserves that, after everything she’s been through.’

Dora knew her mum hadn’t had much to smile about over the years. Widowed at thirty-two with five children, she had struggled to bring up her family on her own. She’d had to work all hours, cleaning offices and taking in mending for the local laundry.

And then, when Dora was thirteen, Alf Doyle had come into their lives. He didn’t look like anyone’s idea of a knight in shining armour, with his big lumbering body and hands like ham hocks. But he had certainly rescued Rose Doyle and her kids.

A gentle giant, everyone called him. He worked as a van driver on the railways. Not the best-paid job in the world, but it was steady and at least he didn’t have to line up with the other men at the dock gates every morning, looking for work.

Everyone said Rose was lucky. After all, it wasn’t every man who would take on a widow and all those children. But Alf loved the kids as if they were his own. He took them all on outings to the coast and the countryside and the boating lake at Victoria Park, treated them to sweets and ice creams and all kinds of other delights.

Dora couldn’t have hated him more if she’d tried.

By the time Josie returned with the food, they’d warmed the plates and were crowded around the table. The hot fried rock salmon and chips was a lot better than Nanna Winnie’s notoriously inedible stew, especially when Dora
was allowed the batter scraps soaked in salt and vinegar to celebrate her big achievement.

‘Don’t suppose they’ll be feeding you like this in that nurses’ home!’ Rose said.

‘It’s hard work, from what I hear,’ Alf mumbled through a mouthful of chips.

‘I’m not afraid of hard work,’ Dora said.

‘A bit of hard work never hurt anyone.’ Nanna Winnie took out her teeth and slipped them into her pocket.

‘Mum!’ Rose protested. ‘Do you have to do that at the table?’

‘Why not? I don’t need ’em now I’ve finished eating. And they rub my gums raw.’

After tea, Dora and Josie cleared the plates away while Alf relaxed in his armchair beside the fire. Rose sat opposite with her mending, while Nanna Winnie half dozed in her rocking chair.

‘You know what I’m going to do one day, Rosie?’ Alf said. ‘Buy you a house. A proper modern house, out in Loughton near your sister Brenda’s place. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Somewhere with a decent garden, not that stinking little back yard.’

‘Oi, do you mind? That back yard’s been good enough for me all these years,’ Nanna said, opening one eye. But Alf wasn’t listening.

‘You can grow flowers, and I can grow fruit and veg, and keep chickens. And we’ll have electricity in all the rooms.’

‘I don’t hold with electricity,’ Nanna grumbled.

‘That sounds nice.’ Rose smiled down at her mending. She never stopped working, no matter what the occasion. King George himself could come round for his tea, and Rose would still be turning the collars on a couple of shirts.

‘Nice? It’ll be more than nice, love. And it’s what you
deserve.’ Alf scratched his expanded belly and sighed with contentment. ‘I’m the luckiest man in the world, do you know that? I’ve got a beautiful wife, lovely kids – what more could a man ask for, eh?’

‘Listen to him go on, making all kinds of stupid promises he can’t keep,’ Dora whispered to Josie as they loaded plates into the sink in the scullery. ‘I don’t know how Mum puts up with it.’

‘She doesn’t mind.’ Josie shrugged, stacking the dishes in the deep sink. ‘She knows how Alf likes to talk.’

‘All the same, I wish he’d shut up about the bloody house in Loughton. He’s only a van driver, not Governor of the Bank of England.’

‘Dora!’ Josie laughed at her in surprise. ‘I don’t know why you don’t like him.’

Dora looked at her sister. Josie was very grown-up for her age. There were four years between them, but since their middle sister Maggie had died they’d become more like friends than sisters. They had once shared all kinds of secrets, tucked together in their big bed, whispering and laughing together under the covers so Bea couldn’t hear.

But there were some secrets Dora couldn’t share, not even with her sister.

‘I just don’t,’ she mumbled, picking a plate off the draining board to dry. ‘I won’t miss him when I leave, that’s for sure.’

‘Don’t talk about leaving, I don’t like it,’ Josie said, pulling a face. Then in the next breath she added, ‘Do you think I could have your old bedroom when you go?’

‘No!’ She shouted it so forcefully Josie stared at her in surprise.

‘Why not? It’s no fun being stuck in a bed with Bea. She kicks me in the night, and she snores worse than
Nanna. And she’s so nosey too. She’s always into my things.’

‘All the same, you don’t want to be in my old room. It’s so cold and draughty, and – it’s haunted.’

Josie’s dark eyes widened. ‘You’ve never said.’

‘That’s ’cos I’ve never wanted to frighten you. But there’s a ghost all right.’

Just then Rose appeared in the scullery doorway, her cheeks flushed pink from the port and lemon she’d had.

‘Everything all right?’ she asked. ‘I thought I heard our Dora shouting.’

‘She says her bedroom’s haunted,’ Josie said.

Dora didn’t meet her mother’s eye, but she could feel her frown. ‘Your sister’s having you on,’ she said briskly. ‘The only thing haunts this place is your Nanna. And she’d be enough to scare any ghost off. Now Dora, stop filling Josie’s head with nonsense.’

I wish it
was
nonsense, Dora thought.

After they’d washed up the dishes, Alf went to the pub, and for the first time in the evening, Dora felt herself relax. She played Snakes and Ladders with Josie and Bea while they listened to Henry Hall on the wireless. Nanna dozed by the warmth of the fire and her mother got on with the rest of her mending for the laundry.

Later, they all went to bed. Nanna Winnie complained loudly, claiming the fish and chips had made her ill.

‘I’ll probably die in my sleep,’ she predicted gloomily, as she rose stiffly from her rocking chair.

‘No one ever died of indigestion, Mum!’ Rose laughed.

‘That’s what you reckon,’ Nanna said darkly. ‘You lot will be laughing the other side of your faces when you find my cold dead corpse in the morning.’

Dora and Josie stood side by side at the scullery sink, brushing their teeth.

‘It’s going to be lonely here without you,’ Josie said.

Dora spat toothpaste down the plug hole. ‘You’ll have Bea and Little Alfie.’

‘But I won’t have you.’

‘I told you, I’ll come home for visits.’

‘Promise?’ Josie rinsed her mouth out and turned to face her sister, her dark eyes shining. ‘Promise you won’t forget me?’

‘How could I forget you? I’m your big sister, ain’t I?’ Dora stroked her silky dark hair. ‘I’ll always look out for you, Jose.’

When they’d all gone to bed Dora lay in the darkness under the weight of her old eiderdown, listening to Nanna’s snores through the thin wall. From next door, she could hear June Riley yelling at her sons.

Tired though she was, she didn’t dare sleep until she heard the sound of Alf’s key scraping in the lock.

Her stomach clenched in fear as she heard his heavy tread in the passageway. Please God, she prayed. Please don’t let him come in. Not tonight.

His footsteps stopped outside the bedroom door. Dora held her breath as the knob began to turn, ever so slowly . . .

He moved quietly for a big man. Dora felt him standing over her as she lay still, her eyes tightly shut, pretending to be asleep.

But he wasn’t fooled. ‘I know you’re awake.’ He leaned closer to her, his hot breath fanning her face, stinking of beer and cigarettes. ‘Waiting for me, are you?’

‘Leave me alone,’ she whispered into the darkness, her eyes still closed.

‘Not until I get what I’ve come for.’ He wrenched off the bedclothes, leaving her trembling and exposed. Dora curled up in fear, head down, knees pulled up to her
chest, as if she could disappear inside her flannel nightdress.

But it was no use. He had already pinned her to the bed with his knee as he fumbled with his trouser buttons.

‘I’ll tell Mum,’ she threatened, twisting away from him. ‘I’ll scream and everyone will come running.’

‘And then what?’ Alf mocked her. ‘What do you think will happen then? She might kick me out, but I’m telling you now, you won’t be far behind. D’you really think she’d want to see your face again, knowing what you and me had done?’ He was on top of her, his bulky body stifling her. His breathing was hard and ragged as his rough hands pawed under her nightdress. ‘And what about the rest of the family? They’ll be on the streets before you know it, without me to pay the rent. Is that what you want?’

‘I want you to leave me alone.’

He grunted with laughter. ‘No, you don’t. You love it.’ He grabbed her hand and plunged it into his trousers. She tried to pull away but he gripped her tightly, forcing her against him until she felt her arm would snap in two. ‘You should count yourself lucky. Ugly little cow like you, no other man would ever look at you.’

He suddenly yanked her arms back, pinning them above her head as he thrust himself clumsily against her. All the fight gone out of her, Dora could do nothing but blank her mind. She turned her face to stare at the crack of dim lamplight between the faded rose print curtains, listened to the distant sound of June Riley’s screeching voice, and told herself it would all be over soon.