The Nightingale Girls (49 page)

The slap was hard and sudden, catching her off balance. Helen staggered sideways and the box fell from her hands.

‘You see?’ Her mother’s tight-lipped face swam before her eyes. ‘The very fact that you’re answering me back shows me how out of control you are. The sooner we remove you from this place, the better.’

She left. Helen heard the front door bang shut and sank to her knees. Her beautiful jewellery box lay in pieces on the rug, its lid broken off. Seeing it there, broken in two, hurt more than any blow her mother could have given her.

She picked up the pieces and tried to fit them back together, but she couldn’t see through a hot blur of tears. Finally she gave up as misery overtook her and she started to sob. She heard the sound of the front door again, and knew she should pick herself up and stop crying, but she couldn’t. She didn’t care if one of the other students saw her, or if Sister Sutton came in. She didn’t care about anything any more.

Footsteps passed the sitting room, and then stopped.

‘Tremayne?’ Dora’s voice came from the doorway. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

Helen tried to explain, but she couldn’t speak for crying.

‘Come on, it’s all right. We’ll sort it out.’ She heard the crackle of starched fabric as Dora knelt beside her. ‘Come on, love. Don’t get upset. Bit of glue and it’ll be as right as rain.’

As Dora put her arms around her shaking shoulders, Helen wished she could explain it would take more than a bit of glue to mend her broken heart.

‘
WHY, MRS TREMAYNE,
what a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know we had a meeting today?’

Kathleen Fox’s smile was strained as she returned from her morning round to find Constance waiting for her in her office.

‘We didn’t.’ Constance quivered like a highly strung racehorse, a sure sign of impending trouble. ‘But there’s a matter I wish to discuss with you.’

What is it this time? Kathleen wondered. A nurse being allowed off duty five minutes early? Too much coal being used to fire up the stoke hole? She braced herself for the worst.

‘It’s about my daughter,’ Constance said.

Kathleen’s heart sank. So Miss Hanley had managed to be the bearer of bad tidings after all.

‘Oh, yes?’ She took her seat behind her desk.

‘I’m removing her from this hospital.’

Kathleen looked up sharply. She’d been expecting a rebuke, possibly even a lecture. But not this. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I am taking Helen away from the Nightingale. I have put my intentions in writing.’ She rummaged in her handbag and produced an envelope, which she pushed across the desk to Kathleen. ‘As you’ll see, I intend to take Helen away as soon as possible—’

‘But you can’t!’ Kathleen stared dumbly at the letter on the desk, still struggling to take in what she was hearing.
‘Helen’s approaching her final year. Another few months and she’ll be taking her State Final.’

‘She can finish her studies elsewhere. I have been in contact with St Andrew’s in Aberdeen. They are more than happy to accept her, given her record and good character.’

‘You’re sending her all the way to Scotland?’

Constance Tremayne’s mouth tightened. ‘St Andrew’s has an excellent reputation as a teaching hospital.’

‘Yes, but even so . . .’ ‘Then Kathleen saw the spite gleaming in Constance Tremayne’s eyes, and it all made perfect sense.

‘You’re doing this to punish her,’ she said flatly.

Outrage flared in Constance’s taut face. ‘I’m doing what’s best for my daughter.’

‘Are you? Is that really why you’re doing this, Mrs Tremayne?’

They faced each other across the desk, neither of them blinking. Then, finally, Constance said, ‘If you must know, I have grave concerns about the way this hospital is being run, and in particular the moral welfare of the young nurses in your care.’

Kathleen could feel her temper rising and held on to it grimly. ‘I can assure you, Helen’s moral welfare is not in danger,’ she said.

‘Is that so?’ Constance’s Tremayne’s brows arched. ‘And are you aware, Matron, that for the past three months my daughter has been seeing – a man?’

The way she said it made it sound as if Helen had been consorting with white slave traders.

‘Lots of the nurses have boyfriends, Mrs Tremayne,’ Kathleen said mildly.

‘Not my daughter!’ Constance Tremayne looked genuinely shocked. ‘What is more, she’s been seeing this – this person in secret.’

I’m not surprised, Kathleen thought. How else was the girl to have any kind of private life? She thought about poor downtrodden Helen Tremayne, who walked with her head down and never dared stand up for herself even when the other girls provoked and tormented her.

‘Helen is an upright, moral girl of excellent character,’ Constance continued. ‘Or she was, until all this happened.’

‘Oh, come along, Mrs Tremayne!’ Kathleen couldn’t help smiling. ‘You can’t condemn the girl just for falling in love.’

‘In love?’ Constance Tremayne went white to her lips, her face rigid with rage and shock. ‘My daughter is not
in love
, Matron. She doesn’t know the meaning of the word. She’s become infatuated, allowed herself to be led astray with all kinds of silly notions she knows nothing about. She should be concentrating on her studies, not filling her head with fanciful nonsense about boys and romance! If this silliness continues she will end up failing her exams.’

‘I can’t see that happening at all,’ Kathleen reasoned. ‘Helen is a very conscientious girl. She takes her studies very seriously indeed. I certainly haven’t seen any evidence of silliness, as you call it.’

‘Really? And what do you call her recent rule-breaking?’ Mrs Tremayne pounced triumphantly. ‘Helen wouldn’t have dreamt of staying out late before she met this person.’ Her mouth curled with distaste. ‘So you see, it’s starting already. And what will happen next, I wonder? What else is this reprobate going to talk her into? I’ve already seen her defy me because she’s so besotted with him. How long before he really leads her astray, takes advantage of her?’ Her eyes blazed fiercely bright, and an angry vein pulsed in her temple. ‘Helen is a naïve young girl. She could end
up disgraced, her life in ruins. I won’t have that happen, do you hear? I will not allow that to happen to my daughter!’

Kathleen regarded her carefully. She had never seen Constance Tremayne so furious before. She looked as if she was ready to explode.

Kathleen’s next words were spoken in a calm and deliberate manner. ‘Have you met this young man, Mrs Tremayne?’ she asked mildly.

‘Met him? Of course I haven’t met him!’ Constance Tremayne’s voice was shrill. ‘I have no intention of doing so. I want to end this nonsense, nip it in the bud before Helen’s future is ruined.’

‘And you think sending her to Scotland will solve the problem, do you?’

‘It will put her out of harm’s way.’ Constance was quieter now, clutching her handbag in front of her like a shield of righteousness.

‘I believe they have young men north of the border too,’ Kathleen pointed out. She saw Constance Tremayne bristle with anger again, and quickly tried to calm her. ‘I understand you want to protect your daughter, Mrs Tremayne, but you can’t shield her for ever.’

‘How can you possibly understand?’ Constance flashed back. ‘You’re not a mother.’

‘I know, but—’

‘Then kindly don’t try to tell me how to bring up my own daughter.’ Constance Tremayne stood up and straightened her hat. ‘Anyway, this is not a matter for discussion,’ she said briskly. ‘I’ve made my decision, and that’s final.’

‘And what does Helen think?’

Constance Tremayne frowned, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. ‘Helen will do as she’s told.’

‘For how long?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I’ve seen the way you treat her, the way you talk to her.’ Kathleen could feel her anger rolling like a rock down a hill, gaining momentum. ‘You terrify and bully that poor girl until she doesn’t know which way to turn. One day she is going to stand up for herself, and when she does you’ll only have yourself to blame!’

The two women faced each other across the desk. Constance’s eyes were fixed on Kathleen’s face, coldly accusing. ‘I have made my decision,’ she repeated firmly. ‘And you can be sure the Board of Trustees will hear about the way you have spoken to me!’

‘It’s nothing compared to what I’d like to say,’ Kathleen muttered as the door closed. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She was sure she hadn’t done herself or poor Helen any favours, but she couldn’t help flying off the handle. Constance Tremayne was simply insufferable.

Seized by a sudden fit of rage, she picked up a wooden paperweight and hurled it at the door, narrowly missing Miss Hanley as she opened it.

‘Don’t you ever knock?’ Kathleen snapped, for once too angry to be civil. She was tired of tiptoeing around her Assistant Matron while Miss Hanley seemed to do as she pleased.

‘Is there something wrong, Matron?’

‘You could say that.’ Kathleen stared across the desk at her. Miss Hanley stood erect and implacable, her immaculately starched uniform stretched over her broad shoulders, hands folded in front of her. Kathleen suddenly wished she had another paperweight to hurl.

‘We’ve had a visit from Mrs Tremayne,’ she said.

‘Oh, yes?’ The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corners
of Miss Hanley’s thin mouth. No doubt she was relishing the thought of the drubbing Kathleen would have received.

‘For once I wasn’t the one in trouble.’ She kept her voice deliberately light. ‘It seems someone has seen fit to inform Mrs Tremayne about her daughter’s recent reprimand. I wonder who that could have been?’ Miss Hanley’s broad face gave nothing away. ‘At any rate, the damage is done now. Mrs Tremayne is so appalled by the lack of discipline in this hospital that she intends to take Helen away.’

Kathleen had the small satisfaction of seeing Miss Hanley’s jaw drop. ‘But she can’t!’ she burst out. ‘Helen is one of the best students we have. The Nightingale needs girls like her.’

‘I agree. But apparently St Andrew’s in Aberdeen will be having the benefit of her excellent training from now on.’

Kathleen watched a mottled purple hue creep up from under Miss Hanley’s starched collar as she took in the news. She was pleased her assistant was so shaken. Perhaps now she could see the damage her meddling had done.

Kathleen only hoped she was proud of herself.

‘Are you quite well, Veronica? You’re very quiet this evening,’ Florence observed as they sat in the small patch of garden beside the nurses’ home. It was a warm, sunny evening, far too pleasant to be indoors, so the sisters had brought folding chairs out on to the lawn for their patchwork session.

But Veronica Hanley was barely aware of the warmth of the sun dappling through the chestnut trees, or of the sewing in her lap. Her thoughts were straying elsewhere.

‘I must confess, I’m a little dismayed by the news about Tremayne,’ she admitted finally.

‘Oh, yes. Poor Tremayne.’ Sister Parker shook her head. ‘Such a bright girl. And such a loss to this hospital.’

‘I don’t know why you’d say that, after what she did to me.’ Agatha Sutton’s chins wobbled with indignation.

Florence Parker restrained her smile. ‘I wonder how her mother found out?’ she mused

Veronica was aware of Florence’s eyes fixed on her. She kept her gaze on her sewing, which had become uneven and ugly through lack of attention. She sighed and began picking the stitches out.

‘I must say, I’m surprised at Mrs Tremayne’s reaction,’ she said.

‘Are you? I can’t say I am. She’s always struck me as a vindictive sort of woman,’ Florence said sharply.

‘Yes, but given her own background . . .’ Veronica shut her mouth like a trap, biting back the words.

Agatha went on stitching, blithely unaware, but it was too much to hope Florence hadn’t noticed. She regarded her keenly.

‘You were about to say something else, Veronica?’

She yanked out another stitch, breaking the thread in her agitation. ‘I just thought, as a vicar’s wife, she might have shown a little more forgiveness,’ she muttered.

‘She does seem to be judging her poor daughter rather harshly,’ Florence remarked.

Doesn’t she just? Veronica thought. Her feelings were as tangled as the threads of her patchwork. And try as she might, she couldn’t seem to sort them out.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Agatha agreed with a sigh. ‘The wretched girl did almost give me a heart attack, but I suppose no one is perfect, are they?’

‘Apart from Constance Tremayne, of course,’ Florence reminded her.

Is she? Veronica pursed her mouth over her stitching.

She might seem harsh, but she believed in fairness. And Constance Tremayne really wasn’t being fair. Especially given everything Veronica knew about her.

‘Are you sure you’re quite all right, Veronica? You’re being quite merciless with that patchwork. It’s practically in shreds,’ Florence Parker observed.

‘Yes, I know. Forgive me.’ Veronica let her sewing fall into her lap. ‘I’m not in the mood this evening, I’m afraid. I have a great deal on my mind.’

The two sisters regarded her expectantly, but Veronica said nothing more. There was only one person she could talk to now, and that was Constance Tremayne.

IN AUGUST, IT
was time to change wards again. Dora was sorry to say goodbye to Sister Holmes and Male Surgical, especially when she found out she would be going to Gynae.

Sister Wren wasn’t nearly so interested in training as she was in putting her feet up in her sitting room and flirting with the doctors. As long as Dora did as she was told and kept herself busy, Sister Wren left her to her own devices.

Which might have been a blessing, had it not been for Lettie Pike the ward maid.

She was Sister Wren’s eyes and ears on the ward. While Sister Wren relaxed in her sitting room, Lettie would spy on the nurses. Nothing seemed to get past her beady eye, and she took great delight in making sure the students got into trouble as often as possible.

Poor Dora was the special focus of her attention. As she found out when she had to miss her dinner break one day. Light-headed with hunger, she’d risked eating some of the patients’ leftovers in the kitchen. It was only a piece of cold cod, but Lettie Pike made sure Sister Wren found out all about it.