The Nightingale Sisters (25 page)

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Authors: Donna Douglas

BOOK: The Nightingale Sisters
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And then she reached Maud Mortimer’s bed.

‘And how are you today?’ she asked, her voice dripping with condescension.

‘Dying,’ Maud snapped back. ‘Slowly.’

‘Oh.’ Mrs Tremayne looked confused. ‘But they’re looking after you well?’ she said, recovering her composure.

‘Oh, yes, it’s simply marvellous. We have endless larks in here, as you can probably imagine. In fact, we’re all going out to play a spot of croquet in the courtyard later. Perhaps you’d like to join us?’ She looked up at Mrs Tremayne, her expression bland.

Constance Tremayne stared back at Maud for a moment, speechless. Then, gathering her dignity, she turned and stalked off to the next bed. Millie and Helen glanced at each other and tried not to laugh. Even Sister Hyde’s mouth was twitching as she followed the party.

They were halfway across the ward when Helen whispered, ‘Can you smell something?’

Millie sniffed. ‘No, what?’

Helen shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. Probably nothing.’

‘And who have we here?’ Constance Tremayne said, approaching the next bed.

‘Mrs Church, Madam. Pleased to meet you.’

Millie let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Bessie was in one of her lucid moods. Mrs Tremayne looked gratified to find someone who treated her with due deference.

‘Do you know who I am, my dear?’ She spoke very slowly.

Mrs Church looked up at her with glazed eyes. ‘Someone important, I’m sure.’

‘Well, yes, I am,’ Mrs Tremayne acknowledged graciously. ‘I am Constance Tremayne. I run this hospital.’

Millie stifled a snort of laughter. Sister Hyde scowled at her.

‘I can definitely smell something,’ Helen hissed out of the corner of her mouth. ‘You don’t think . . .’

Millie drew in a deep breath, and her eyes widened with horror. ‘Oh, God. No!’

‘Nurses, please!’ Sister Hyde whipped round to reprimand them, then froze as she, too, realised what had happened.

‘In that case, let me shake your hand, Madam.’

‘Let’s move on, shall we?’ Sister Hyde stepped in swiftly.

‘Just a moment.’ Mrs Tremayne pulled off her glove and held her hand out. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Church.’

‘Please.’ She reached her hand out from under the bedclothes and grasped Mrs Tremayne’s as they all watched in silent horror. ‘Call me Bessie.’

It was one of the longest days Millie had ever had to endure. The hours seemed to crawl past, and she began to despair of nine o’clock ever coming.

Sister Hyde blamed her completely, of course.

‘I thought I told you to give Mrs Church a bedpan?’ she hissed furiously.

‘I did, Sister.’

‘Then why didn’t you make sure she used it?’

Millie was condemned to the sluice to clean up her dreadful mistake. But that was the least of her punishment. As she stood up to her elbows in water, soaking and scrubbing, she could only replay the dreadful incident over and over again in her head, wondering if there was anything else she could have done, any way she could have averted the disaster. But every time she saw the image of Mrs Tremayne in her mind’s eye, it got worse.

At least it had brought a rare smile to Maud Mortimer’s face.

‘It serves her right, the patronising witch,’ she’d said. ‘Personally, I think Mrs Church spoke for all of us. I only wish I’d thought of making such a bold statement.’

Finally nine o’clock came, the night staff took over, and Millie could escape. She was hurrying back to the nurses’ home, already thinking of getting into bed, pulling the covers over her head and never coming out, when she met William coming towards her.

‘I don’t see you for weeks, and then I bump into you twice in one day,’ he greeted her with a smile. ‘I hear the Trustees’ visit was – eventful?’

She groaned. ‘Who told you?’

‘Actually, I’ve heard the story three times so far. The last time was from a porter in the mortuary.’

‘Bad news travels fast.’ She looked up at him. ‘How is your mother? Is she very angry?’

‘Her pride is a little dented, but I think she’ll survive.’ He grinned. ‘I just wish I’d been there to see the look on her face.’

‘Don’t.’ Millie closed her eyes briefly. ‘It was horrible.’

‘Look on the bright side.’ He grinned. ‘I don’t think you’ll have to endure another visit from the Trustees in a hurry.’

‘Poor Mrs Tremayne. If it’s any consolation to her, Sister Hyde has made me suffer for my mistake.’

‘Think of it as a lesson to both of you,’ William said gravely. ‘You have learnt to ignore Mrs Church when she tells you she doesn’t need a bedpan. And my mother has learnt never to remove her gloves when near a patient.’

Millie laughed. ‘How do you always manage to make me smile, even at moments like this?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘I’m a natural clown.’

‘I think that makes two of us,’ she said ruefully.

‘Then we make a good pair.’

‘Excuse me.’ They turned as a figure stepped out of the shadows. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything?’ a familiar voice said.

Chapter Twenty-Five

‘SEB!’ MILLIE BROKE
away from William and rushed into her fiancé’s arms, full of excitement. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I wanted to see you on my birthday. And I knew you were working, so I thought I’d come for a quick visit.’ His gaze was fixed on William as he spoke.

‘What a wonderful surprise! You can’t imagine how pleased I am to see you.’ Millie hugged him fiercely.

‘Are you really?’

‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’ She pulled away from him, still smiling. ‘You know William, don’t you?’

‘Indeed we have met.’ William held out his hand in greeting. ‘Nice to meet you again. Happy birthday, by the way.’

‘Thanks.’ Seb seemed rather cool as he shook hands.

‘I’d better be on my way,’ William said. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting some friends at the Café de Paris.’

‘Gosh, that sounds like fun.’

‘Why don’t you join us? If you have no other plans, that is?’

Millie turned to Seb, her weariness forgotten. ‘Shall we? I’m off duty now and it would be marvellous to spend some time with you on your birthday.’

He looked at his watch. ‘Don’t you have to be in bed for lights out in an hour?’

‘Since when has that ever stopped me?’ Mille grinned.

‘I think what your fiancé is hinting is that he’d rather be alone with you,’ William suggested tactfully.

‘Nonsense, he loves the Café de Paris. You do, don’t you, Seb?’ Millie seized his hand. ‘Please? I could do with having a good time, after the beastly day I’ve had. Oh, do let’s! It will be fun.’

Seb’s smile was tight. ‘Why not?’

The Café de Paris was like an opulent sultan’s palace, resplendent in gilt and red velvet, with its double sweeping staircases and sensuously curved balcony. It was hot and crowded with people all drinking, eating, dancing and generally enjoying themselves.

Millie breathed in the overheated air, scented with cigars, alcohol and French perfume. She could feel the atmosphere, charged with excitement, tingling through her veins as the maître d’ showed them to their table.

‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ She smiled over her shoulder at Seb, but her words were lost amidst the sounds of laughter, music and clinking glasses.

William’s new girlfriend was waiting for them with another group of people. She was as tall as him, and dressed dramatically in flowing black silk evening pyjamas. She had made no effort with her hair, letting it fall in wild waves around her face. In one hand she held a glass, and in the other a long cigarette holder.

‘She looks as if she’s ready for bed,’ Seb whispered close to Millie’s ear.

William introduced her as Philippa Wilde. ‘But everyone calls me Phil,’ she added. Her voice was as firm and full of confidence as her handshake.

Her brows rose a fraction when William introduced Millie and Seb. ‘So you’re the famous Millie, are you? I’m pleased to meet you at last.’ Her bronze eyes assessed her. Millie didn’t understand why, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

They sat down and ordered cocktails. They drank and chatted for a while, their voices battling over the sound of the music and laughter around them.

‘Will tells me you’re training to be a nurse?’ Phil said to Millie. ‘Why didn’t you want to be a doctor?’

She blushed. ‘I don’t think I’m clever enough for that.’

‘Nonsense! You don’t have to be clever. Look at William.’ She pinched his cheek affectionately. He laughed, and kissed her hand.

Millie frowned. Will obviously found his girlfriend’s directness charming, but Millie thought it plain rude.

Then, suddenly, Phil leant across to Seb and said, ‘I suppose you know William has a huge crush on your fiancée?’

‘Phil!’ William protested.

‘What? It’s true, isn’t it?’ She turned back to face Seb. ‘You should see him when he talks about her. He gets terribly tongue-tied.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Millie mumbled, mortified.

‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised,’ Seb replied smoothly. ‘Who wouldn’t be in love with Millie?’

She smiled at him gratefully, but he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was wandering around the busy restaurant, searching for the waiter to order more drinks.

‘And what do you do, Sebastian?’ Phil asked.

He stared down at his glass. ‘Not much, really.’

‘He’s a writer,’ Millie put in proudly.

‘Really? How fascinating. Might I have read anything you’ve written?’

‘Not unless you read the diary columns.’

‘He’s going to be very famous one day,’ Millie said loyally.

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ he mumbled.

‘It doesn’t matter really, does it?’ Phil shrugged. ‘If your career doesn’t amount to anything, surely your father must have a spare castle you can live in?’

‘I’m sure he does.’ Seb drained his glass and signalled to the waiter again.

‘You must forgive Phil,’ William apologised for her. ‘She does tend to become rather socialist after a few drinks.’ He took the glass out of her hand and put it down on the table. ‘Come on, let’s dance.’

‘But I was talking to Sebastian!’

‘I’m not sure he wants to talk to you. Come along.’ He stood up, drawing her to her feet.

Millie watched him leading her between the tables towards the dance floor. ‘What an awful girl,’ she said. ‘I can’t think what William sees in her.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll always prefer you.’

She swung round, frowning. ‘You don’t believe that nonsense, do you? She didn’t know what she was talking about. William and I are just friends.’

‘You seemed very close when I arrived earlier?’

Millie laughed, until she saw Seb’s blue eyes regarding her seriously over the rim of his glass.

‘He was only trying to cheer me up, that’s all.’

‘If you say so.’

They sat in silence, watching the dancers on the floor. Millie’s eyes were drawn to William and Phil. She danced sensuously, winding herself around him, her body melting into his. He held on to her, laughing at her uninhibited display. Millie envied them their closeness. She was beginning to feel the distance between herself and Seb stretching like the frozen wastes of the Arctic.

It wasn’t fair, she thought. She’d only suggested they join William because she wanted Seb to have some fun. But instead he was grimly downing drinks as if determined to blot out the whole evening.

Finally she bent closer to him and said, ‘You’re not enjoying this, are you?’

His mouth twisted. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘Shall we go somewhere else?’

‘I’d rather go home.’

‘That suits me.’ She was beginning to feel tired again anyway, as the exhaustion of the day caught up with her.

They took a taxi back to the hospital. Seb dropped her just before the gates.

‘It’s past midnight,’ he said. ‘Will you be all right?’

‘I’ll hop over the wall and up the drainpipe as usual,’ Millie said cheerfully.

She leant over to kiss him. For once his kiss was cool, almost offhand.

She drew away, puzzled. ‘Happy birthday, Seb.’

He looked at her bleakly. ‘If you say so.’

In the early hours of the morning, Violet Tanner made another round of the hospital, then headed to Hyde ward. She had been told in the ward report that one of the patients was unlikely to survive the night.

The nurse in charge was sitting at the central desk, writing her report by the dim light of the shaded green lamp. She looked up as Violet approached.

‘I’ve come to check on the Parkinson’s patient. I was told her condition was deteriorating?’

‘Mrs Little? She’s in bed seven. Sister is with her now.’

‘Sister Hyde is with her?’ Violet crept down the ward, her soft-soled shoes barely making a sound on the polished floor. Sure enough, Sister Hyde was sitting beside the patient’s bed, her tall, fleshless form bent towards her. As she drew closer, Violet saw that she was holding the old woman’s hand.

Sister Hyde looked up, smiling wearily. ‘Miss Tanner.’ She was in her uniform, as stiff and starched as ever despite it being four in the morning.

‘What are you doing here, Sister?’ Violet whispered.

‘I couldn’t sleep for thinking about poor Mrs Little.’ Sister Hyde looked down at the elderly woman, fast asleep against the snowy pillows. ‘I wasn’t sure if she would make it through the night, and I didn’t want her to die alone.’

Violet moved to the other side of the bed. ‘How is she?’

‘She has rallied a little. But they always do, just before the end. I don’t think it will be long now.’ She looked up at Violet. The dim light of the heavily shaded lamps threw deep shadows on her gaunt face. ‘I suppose you think it’s odd of me to want to be here?’ she said. ‘But when a patient is on this ward for so long, you grow to know them. And when you lose one of them . . . well, I suppose it’s almost like losing a member of your own family.’

Mrs Little stirred, her lips moving soundlessly. Sister Hyde grasped her hand. ‘There, my dear. You’re quite safe,’ she said softly.

Violet stared at her. She knew Sister Hyde had a fearsome reputation, even among the other sisters. She felt as if she was being allowed to glimpse a side of her character she kept well hidden. A side that perhaps only the patients were ever allowed to see.

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