Copyright

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018

Copyright © Annie Groves 2018

Cover design by Holly Macdonald©HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

Cover photograph©Jonathan Ring (models); Trevillion Images (background)

Annie Groves asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008272210

Ebook Edition © May 2018 ISBN: 9780008272227

Version: 2018-05-09

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Keep Reading …

About Annie Groves

Also by Annie Groves

About the Publisher

Dedication

Many thanks to the redoubtable Teresa Chris, and for the invaluable encouragement and support from editor Kate Bradley and copy editor Pen Isaac. Also to the staff of the Queen’s Nursing Institute, especially Matthew Bradby and Christine Widdowson.

CHAPTER ONE

June 1939

‘Are you sure this is the right way?’ asked Edith, putting her hand to her head as the early summer breeze threatened to blow her nurse’s hat into the dusty road. ‘Wasn’t it meant to be five minutes from the bus stop? I bet we’ve walked for longer than that. My feet are killing me.’

Alice checked the piece of paper again. ‘I can’t see where we could have gone wrong. Anyway, Edie, we haven’t been walking for more than a few minutes. Don’t take on so.’ She looked down at her colleague with good humour – Edith barely reached her shoulder. ‘Let’s go to the next corner and see if we can spot it from there. If we see anyone we can ask.’

Edith grimaced but, left with little choice, gamely picked up her case once more and followed Alice, whose longer stride meant she was always slightly ahead. In her other hand she carried her precious nurse’s bag. The rows of terraced houses they passed all looked the same, three storeys high if you counted the big basements, with bay windows and steep stone steps, but narrow-fronted, built to fit a lot of people into a small space. They didn’t have much in the way of front gardens, just an area where you could leave dustbins or reach the basement door. Still, Edith told herself, it wasn’t as grim as the street she had grown up in, on the other side of the river in south London. This was bright in comparison. It wouldn’t be too bad at all.

Alice came to a sudden halt and Edith nearly smacked into her. The taller young woman pointed at a street sign. ‘There we are. Victory Walk.’

Edith looked up, pushing one of her stray dark curls out of her eyes. Try as she might they would never do as she wanted, and she’d been in trouble with her previous matron because of that – and for numerous other reasons as well. ‘So it is. Victory Walk. Suppose it was named after we won the Great War, though I bet the houses were built ages before that. Are we at this end?’

Alice looked at the houses on the corners. ‘No, I don’t think so. They said it was a bigger house and we’d know it straight away. Must be further along.’

Edith groaned as her shoulder protested at the weight of her case.

Alice smiled in sympathy. ‘Buck up, Edie. Not far now.’

‘Easy for you to say, with your long legs,’ Edith grumbled, but picked up her case once more. ‘I’m sure it’s further than five minutes …’

‘It won’t be. Not when we aren’t carrying these great lumbering things,’ Alice pointed out. ‘We’ll be on and off those buses in a jiffy. You can get to the West End as quickly as you like on your days off.’ She paused as they got to the other end of the short road. ‘Here we are. They were right, there’s no mistaking it.’

Both young women set down their cases and nurses’ bags and stood to take in the first sight of what would be their new home, and also the base for their work. It was in the style of the rest of the street but felt grander, being double-fronted, standing a little taller than the buildings around it, and there were attic windows too. The sign above the immaculate front door left no room for doubt that they’d found what they were looking for: ‘North Hackney Queen’s Nurses Association’. This was why they’d taken the bus to the east side of the city, and then up Kingsland Road, with its busy mix of shops, cafés, factories and cinemas. This is where they would live for the foreseeable future and from where they would go out into the local community as district nurses. Alice found she was tracing with her forefinger the shape of the Queen’s Nurse badge that she wore on a cord around her neck.

For a moment her nerve failed her. Would she be good enough? Would she live up to the trust of her tutors and the expectations of her patients? She’d trained for years, first as a general nurse in a hospital, then on the specialist course to become a district nurse, but there had always been someone else there to guide her. Now she would be out there, on the district as it was called, on her own, in her patients’ houses rather than on wards, relying on her own skill and judgement to cope with whatever was thrown at her. Would she be able to do it?

Edith, who often relied on her friend to take the lead, now stepped forward. ‘Come on then. Let’s see what this place is like on the inside. Hope we get rooms on the top storey.’ She glanced up at Alice. ‘We’ll be all right, just you see.’

‘Of course we will.’ Alice gave herself a mental shake. ‘They wouldn’t have passed us otherwise.’ And with that she picked up her heavy case for what she hoped would be the last time for a very long while, strode up the steps and rapped sharply on the glossy navy paint of the door.

The difference between the bright daylight and the gloom of the corridor made them blink, and Alice at first almost didn’t see the young woman who let them in. She swiftly led them down the dim hallway and up a set of stairs, turning and opening a door, with a shy murmur of ‘she’s been expecting you’, before vanishing again. Sunshine flooded in through a large window, falling on a sturdy but well-worn wooden desk covered in cardboard folders, with an equally solid-looking wooden bookcase behind it. Alice had just enough time to notice the familiar spines of textbooks she had studied when a student nurse before a bustling woman in uniform shot across from the far corner of the room and started speaking at top speed. Her hair was red as copper, her face was sprinkled with freckles and she was even shorter than Edith. Alice had the distinct impression that here was somebody who hardly ever sat still – keen energy radiated from her as she waved them inside the office.

‘Come in, come in. Make yourselves comfortable. Nurses Lake and Gillespie, I take it?’ She looked at them brightly.

‘Y-yes,’ Alice stuttered, momentarily taken aback by the woman’s strong Scottish accent. ‘I’m Alice Lake.’

‘Then you must be Edith Gillespie,’ the woman said, sounding delighted as she took them across to the slightly faded sofa on the far side of the room. ‘I’m Fiona Dewar, and I’ll be your superintendent. Sit, sit and take the weight off your feet, there’ll be time enough for standing very shortly. Take every opportunity for a nice sit-down in this business, that’s what I say, because who knows when you’ll get another chance? You’ll be rushing around soon enough, I’ll be bound.’ She took her seat behind the desk and pulled one of the folders towards her. ‘Gladys will bring us a cup of tea, that’s the young lady who let you in. She doesn’t say much to start with but you’ll get to know her all the same, I’m sure. So, now, your previous matron has said some very impressive things about you, Miss Lake.’ She turned a page in the file. ‘Most promising. You weren’t inclined to go back to your home town, then?’ She looked up and, although her grey eyes were kind, Alice realised they missed nothing.

Hastily she cleared her throat. ‘No, I did my specialist training in London and I grew to like it. Besides, it means I can work with Edith, we work well as a team.’ She smiled at the superintendent, hoping there would be no further questions in this delicate area. She had no intention of revealing her real reason for staying away from Liverpool. That was her own private business, and it would stay that way if she had anything to do with it.

Edith beamed and the superintendent turned her gaze towards her. ‘Ah yes, Miss Gillespie, it’s always good to have a friend to hand, especially when you’re in a responsible profession like nursing.’

Alice winced a little as yet again the older woman had homed in on a sensitive issue. Edith took her responsibilities very seriously – for as long as she was on duty. After that she took having fun very seriously as well. Alice suspected their former matron might well have made a note to that effect.

Edith sat up straight against the slightly sagging cushions of the sofa. ‘Yes, Miss Dewar. I know we won’t go round in pairs but we always found it useful to help each other out when we were studying, testing each other, that sort of thing.’

Fiona Dewar nodded sagely. ‘Indeed. That shows commendable dedication. And we don’t stand on ceremony here, girls. You may call me Fiona, unless it’s in front of patients or doctors. It may surprise you to learn that I’m not vastly older than you are.’

Alice made a valiant attempt not to let her astonishment show on her face. Their previous superiors would have never, ever have relaxed the tradition of formal titles. Besides, she had thought Fiona Dewar must be at least twice her own age – but then, looking more closely, she saw that she was wrong. Perhaps the superintendent was in her late thirties; but knowing she was at such a senior level had made Alice assume she must be even older. ‘No, of course not,’ she managed to say, as Edith was clearly unable to utter a word.

The superintendent beamed again. ‘I’m delighted you’ve both decided to join us. I know the borough’s main branch is a bit more central, but we like to think we keep a welcoming house here.’

Alice shifted in her seat. ‘We saw that you had vacancies for two nurses and so we thought we could stick together.’

Fiona nodded again. ‘That sounds very sensible. So, I’m sure you’re well prepared for your new positions and you’d never have passed the exam if you weren’t, but all the same …’ She sat back a little, clasping her hands. ‘It will be different to what you’ve been used to working in a hospital. Of course you are still under the medical direction of a doctor – you won’t be expected to dispense medicine for any patient except in emergencies, and I’m happy to say that our local GPs all appreciate the hard work we district nurses do. All the same, you will be required to show initiative and to take every opportunity to promote good health and hygiene to every family. Prevention is better than cure.’ Her eyes gleamed and Alice and Edith smiled in agreement.

‘Always remember, you are guests in the patients’ homes.’ Fiona’s face grew serious. ‘We never, ever judge our patients on account of their creed or degree of poverty. I regret to say that you will have plenty of dealings with the various officials who oversee public assistance, as many households around here can’t pay into provident schemes. Yet they are all equal when it comes to treatment.’

‘Of course,’ said Alice hurriedly, inwardly wondering how bad it might be. She knew all about poverty in theory – but she’d never gone without herself.

‘So, ladies, may I safely presume that you can ride bicycles?’

‘Yes, I been doing that since I was a kiddie,’ Edith assured the woman.

Alice inclined her head towards her friend. ‘I can manage a bike too.’ She’d never been allowed one as a child; her parents had thought it was too dangerous an activity for their beloved only daughter. ‘I learned when I was a student nurse. When we were working shifts it was the only reliable way to get around.’

‘Quite so,’ Fiona Dewar said approvingly. ‘We are fortunate to be well connected with public transport here, as you must have found out earlier, but when visiting your patients you will have to do so by bike. There’s no bus or tram that will get down some of our narrower streets. Do I take it that neither of you are familiar with this part of London?’

Both nurses shook their heads.

‘Oh, it’s a wonderful place to work.’ The superintendent spread her hands in front of her. ‘You’ll never be bored for a minute. We have unemployment around here, of course, and some of our local citizens do live cheek by jowl, you might say, and so we have to be extra vigilant against the spread of disease. There was an outbreak of typhoid down in Shoreditch at the beginning of the year, terrible business. Overcrowding makes it worse. But then, you knew all that before you qualified, didn’t you?’

Alice agreed somewhat nervously. It was one thing to learn such things as a part of a course, quite another to be brought face to face with the facts. Still, if she’d wanted an easy life she could have gone back to Liverpool. Although that would have been difficult in other ways.

‘It can’t be any more overcrowded than where I grew up,’ said Edith matter-of-factly. ‘We were seven of us children in a two-bedroom house and that was better off than some of our neighbours. You just got on and made the best of things.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Fiona.

Alice glanced at her friend. She knew it hadn’t been as simple as that. But that was Edith’s story to tell.

There was a nervous knock at the door and the young woman who’d let them in tentatively balanced a laden tea tray as she stepped across to the desk. She didn’t meet their eyes, but kept her gaze towards the floor and her mousy brown hair fell forward, obscuring her pale face.

‘Thank you, Gladys,’ said Fiona, as Gladys scooted out again. She poured three cups from the pot. ‘I wouldn’t like to give you the impression that you’ll be waited on hand and foot here. This is purely because it’s a special occasion, to welcome you to your new home.’ She glanced up as she passed the cups across the desk. ‘We see to ourselves most of the time when it comes to cups of tea or that sort of thing. There are three meals a day served downstairs on the lower ground floor, all provided by our esteemed Cook, and you will of course maintain your own rooms in spick-and-span order. We must value hygienic practices at all times.’

‘Of course,’ Alice agreed hurriedly. It was what they’d been used to, after all. She gratefully sipped her tea, realising that her last cup had been at an unearthly hour that morning, and felt like a long time ago.

‘Our district room is on the ground floor – you’ll have passed the door to it on your way in,’ Fiona went on. ‘I must warn you that, although we are by and large a friendly establishment here, any nurse who leaves that room less tidy than she found it will incur immediate wrath. There can be absolutely no exceptions. I trust I need say no more about that most vital rule.’

Alice hastily swallowed her tea and nodded vigorously. The district room was where all supplies and equipment were kept, with which each nurse replenished the contents of her own Gladstone bag that went everywhere with her. To fall foul of the superintendent’s rule would be to risk another nurse being unable to find something important, possibly in an emergency. That could never be allowed to happen.

‘Yes, Fiona. I mean no,’ added Edith.

‘Good,’ said the superintendent, setting down her cup of tea on its serviceable saucer. ‘All finished? Excellent. Now, follow me. I’m afraid you’ll have to hit the ground running as we are extremely busy right now. Which is why we’re so glad to recruit the pair of you together, of course. You’ll be needed just as soon as you’ve had a moment to catch your breath. Someone will bring up your big cases, but please take your bags. I’ll show you to your rooms. You’re on the top floor, so I hope you’ve got good legs. Well, if you haven’t already, you soon will have.’

Alice and Edith exchanged a glance as they obediently followed the diminutive superintendent. Their previous matron would sooner have died than make a comment about their legs. Clearly things were very different around here, and Alice had the distinct impression that, whatever else they were in for, it wasn’t going to be boring.

CHAPTER TWO

Alice had barely had time to unpack and settle herself in a Spartan but immaculately clean attic room when her first callout came. A young mother was worried about her baby, who seemed to be running an unusual temperature. One of the local doctors had referred her to the district nurses – could somebody come that afternoon?

The message reached Alice just as she’d found her hairbrush and managed to give her hair a quick tidy as she peered into the small mirror perched on top of the chest of drawers. When not pinned up under her uniform hat or cap, her dark blonde locks reached to her shoulders in natural waves, but it was rare for her to wear her hair down. She was settling it back into its usual neat bun when there was a knock on her door.

‘Come—’ she began, but before she could even finish her sentence, in burst a young woman in nurse’s uniform, big blue eyes gazing at Alice with frank curiosity.

‘Are you Miss Lake? I’m Mary Perkins and I’ve got the room at the end of this corridor,’ the new arrival announced. ‘Sorry, you’re needed already. Only this minute got here, haven’t you? I’ve been here for two months so I can show you the ropes. We’ll get to know each other properly later, but if your bag is all ready to go, you’d better come with me.’

‘I’m Alice,’ said Alice, grabbing her bag, which she’d prepared in advance, and reaching for her navy coat. ‘But I haven’t got a bike yet.’

‘Not to worry, it’ll be around the side, they always are,’ said Mary Perkins, who Alice judged to be about Edith’s age, a couple of years younger than herself. ‘This house is a doddle to find, and you’ll be going there often if I’m any judge, and I can tell you right now I’m pretty good at guessing these things.’ She set off at a great pace and it was all Alice could do to keep up as her new colleague dashed along the narrow attic corridor and down the main set of stairs.

‘No running! Nurse Perkins, is that you?’ came a grim voice from the storey below.

‘Bloody old busybody,’ Mary muttered under her breath, but she did at least slow to a fast walk. ‘Have you met Gwen yet? No? Well, you soon will. She’s Fiona’s deputy, but don’t pay her any mind. Look, this is the way to the side door, it’ll save you time. That’s the district room, and that’s the drying room for your cloak when you’ve been out in the rain, but you can see all that later.’ She ducked around a corner and led Alice out into a sunny yard.

Alice realised that – as it was on the corner of the road – the nurses’ home had a large area to the side. One wall had been turned into an informal bike shed, with a light timber roof balanced on the top ridge, and a makeshift rack propped so that a dozen or so cycles could be stored beneath it. Mary made her way along and paused at the end. ‘These are the spare bikes – one for you and one for the other new nurse.’

‘How can you tell? They all look alike,’ Alice wondered.

‘We all put something on our bike to show it’s ours. We’re not meant to but we do.’ Mary pointed to a bike at the far end. ‘See the one with the bit of blue ribbon around the bell? That’s mine. Silly really, but when I was walking out with this chap, he said I looked lovely in blue because it went with my eyes, so I got myself some ribbon to trim my hat, and that was what was left over. Turns out the ribbon lasted longer than he did.’ She shrugged, not overly concerned. ‘I say, have you got a chap?’

Alice took a step back. She wasn’t accustomed to such direct questions from someone she’d only just met. ‘No,’ she said shortly and then, realising it sounded rude to be so abrupt, ‘I haven’t had time, after studying so hard. Anyway, I didn’t spend all those years training just to give it up to get married.’

‘Quite right,’ said Mary. ‘Only I wish they weren’t quite so strict about the rules. In by ten o’clock, no men on the premises, there’s hardly any fun to be had. Still, if you aren’t bothered about that then that’s all right.’

Alice thought that Edith would find a way around the restrictions within the week, if her past history was anything to go by. But she didn’t offer that piece of information to Mary. Instead she asked, ‘Where am I going now?’

‘Jeeves Place,’ said Mary. ‘It’s hard to miss. You go back the way you’d have come this morning as far as the high road. Go straight over – that’s Jeeves Street. The road one further down, parallel to it, is Jeeves Place. Easy. Number nine. Patient’s name is Kathleen Berry, well, that’s the mother. Not sure what her baby’s called.’

‘I expect I’ll find out soon, then,’ said Alice, placing her leather bag in the basket of the bike and pushing it carefully towards the side gate. ‘Wish me luck. If I’m not back by teatime, send out a search party.’

‘Will do.’ Mary waved cheerfully and her lively rich brown curls bobbed around her face.

Kathleen Berry tried to shut out the sounds of her baby son’s screaming. She’d tried picking him up and carrying him around, changing his nappy, offering him cold water, feeding him herself, taking him outside, bringing him back in. Nothing helped and now he was working himself up into a proper state. He lay in his makeshift cot, waving his fists in the air, his face an angry red. She didn’t know what to do. She hoped the nurse would get here soon. She was so frightened.

Her mum had told her not to have anything to do with Ray Berry, that he was a feckless charmer who’d love her and leave her. Kathleen had defended him staunchly. He’d never treat her like that, her mother was just listening to the gossipy old women who had nothing better to do than spread cruel rumours that were without foundation. They were just jealous because they weren’t young any more and had probably never had the attention of a man as good-looking as her Ray. She knew he’d do right by her.

And Ray had – she had his ring on her finger to prove it. No matter how tough things got she was never tempted to pawn it – it was too precious to her, it stood for everything they’d promised to each other. He’d done his best to provide for her but it hadn’t been easy. People were too quick to believe the gossip and he found it hard to get regular work. One day he’d told her he was going down the docks to see if anything was to be found there, and that had been the last she’d seen of him. One of his mates had dropped round to say he’d signed up for a merchant ship and had set sail that very day. It was too good a chance for him to miss.

Kathleen knew he’d be back, but the trouble was he hadn’t sent home regular wages. She was never sure what she would get, if anything at all, but she hated to ask anyone for help. She hadn’t known for certain that she was pregnant before he left – she didn’t want to get it wrong and so she’d waited to tell him. He’d set sail without realising he was soon to become a father.

Now she was stuck with little Brian in this rundown house, which was all she could afford, although if truth be told she couldn’t really even do that. She didn’t even have the whole place to herself – she had the ground floor, with its badly lit front room, cramped kitchen and even more cramped back kitchen, with its doorway into the back yard where there was an outside privy, shared by several families. Upstairs lived the Coynes, who trampled around on the bare boards with no regard of her need to sleep. Then again, they heard Brian’s cries all day and night as clearly as she did.

‘Shush, shush,’ she said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. ‘Mummy’s here. The kind nurse will come soon, she’ll make everything better, just you wait and see.’ She fervently hoped this was true. Wearily she leaned over the baby and took him up into her arms again, noting that he was still far too hot. ‘Mummy’s going to stand in the door with you, see if that cools you down.’ She shoved open the flaking front door and leant on the creaky frame, grateful for the light breeze to fan their faces, even if it blew rubbish down the narrow street. Bits of old newspaper tumbled by. She was so tired she could have slept standing up, if she didn’t have little Brian to look after.

Brian’s cries gradually turned to sad whimpers, but she knew it was because he was too tired to cry lustily any more rather than because he felt better. Anxiously she pressed her hand to his forehead. No, still hot. It wasn’t right. Why was he like this? Was it something she’d done, or hadn’t done?

Kathleen bit down on her lower lip. It wouldn’t help if she went to pieces. It wasn’t as if she had many people to turn to. Her mother would say it served her right for marrying that good-for-nothing. Besides, her mother had four other children to see to, and three more grandchildren to fuss over. Kathleen knew she was a fair way down the list of her mother’s priorities. Sometimes she wondered if she’d been switched at birth as she couldn’t remember a time when she and her mother had got along. They were just too different, even before she’d met Ray. She knew she was quieter, more serious than her mother, who had a loud voice and coarse laugh. Her other siblings had had no such problems, and Kathleen had ended up distant from all of them as a result. She had one good friend who lived on the next street but she couldn’t expect her to be round every time something went wrong – which seemed to happen more and more. ‘It’s just you and me, Brian,’ she breathed, feeling better for admitting the frightening truth. If only Ray were here.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there when there was a rattle of wheels behind her. Turning, she saw it was a tall figure in a navy cloak on a bike that had seen better days. There was no mistaking the woman’s hat though. It was the nurse, at last.

‘Mrs Berry? I’m Nurse Lake. Alice Lake.’ Alice dismounted from the bike and propped it against the house, pausing to take the Gladstone bag out of the basket. ‘Hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.’

Kathleen could have cried with relief. ‘Come in, come in,’ she said, stepping back inside the house with its meagre furnishings. She perched on a wooden chair, Brian in her arms, and left the one decent armchair for Alice.

Alice took it, noticing that the cushions were faded and frayed, but had been carefully mended. The young mother before her wasn’t far off her own age, she guessed; maybe a couple of years younger. But her face was creased with lines of worry and she looked as if she hadn’t slept properly for a very long time. ‘Well, Mrs Berry, what seems to be the trouble?’

‘Oh, it’s Brian here.’ The words came tumbling out now. ‘He’s ever so hot, he’s been like this since yesterday, and I can’t calm him down. I don’t know what it is. You don’t think … you don’t think …’ She could barely form the words to name her deepest fear. ‘Could it be typhoid, Miss? They had it down Shoreditch way. Took them awful bad, it did, and people died and everything. I couldn’t bear for it to be typhoid, not my Brian, he’s only four months old …’ She hated to cry in front of anyone, let alone a stranger, and hastily cuffed away a tear that she could not hold in.

Alice recognised that her first task would be to reassure the mother. If she were anxious then her baby would surely pick up on this and react badly. All the way over here on the short journey she’d been wondering what she would do or say, but now her training kicked in.

‘I’d be very surprised if it is typhoid,’ she said immediately. ‘But why don’t you let me take a look? How about you put him to lie here on this cushion and we can see what signs of illness he has.’

‘He’s dreadful hot, Miss.’ Kathleen set the small body on the cushion and, true to form, Brian started up his piteous screaming again.

‘Oh, young man, what can we do for you, eh?’ Alice gently laid her hand on his forehead and agreed that he was indeed very hot. She reached across to her bag. ‘I’m just going to pop this thermometer in his mouth. There, that’s not so bad, is it?’ The baby stopped crying in surprise at the sensation of the cool thermometer. Alice carefully checked the time and withdrew it. ‘Yes, you’re right, it is a little high, but not as high as we’d expect for a case of typhoid.’ She next checked his pulse and breathing, as the first thing the doctor would look for in her report was his TPR: temperature, pulse, respiration. She then pulled up his little shirt and observed his abdomen. ‘Well, there’s no telltale rash. Those two things make me doubt it’s typhoid, Mrs Berry. Tell me, have you been to Shoreditch recently?’

Kathleen had sagged against the hard back of the chair as Alice had assessed her child, but now perked up as her biggest fear was allayed. ‘Oh no, Miss. We’ve got no call to go down there. Leastways, my Ray’s got a brother down that way but we don’t see him regular. They wasn’t close, you see.’ She sniffed. ‘It’s just … you hear these things … I didn’t know where to turn …’

Alice made a decision. ‘Mrs Berry, may I make a suggestion? You take a seat in the comfy chair and I’ll make us both a cup of tea. Through there, I take it?’ and before the exhausted young mother could object, she slipped through the connecting door to the back of the house.

She’d wanted to observe the state of the rest of the place. She knew only too well that typhoid flourished in conditions of poverty which so often led to overcrowding and a lack of hygiene. But here, although money was so evidently painfully short, everything was scrubbed and tidy. What food and drink there was, was covered and protected, and therefore far less likely to be a source of contagion. Somehow the frazzled young woman managed to maintain a clean house, even with a demanding small baby.

Alice opened one of the two wooden cupboards and found the tin of tea leaves, which was easy as there wasn’t much else on the warped shelves. She set the kettle to boil and found a small amount of milk in a bottle beneath a pottery cooler. She sniffed it dubiously but it was fresh. There was a collection of slightly chipped but matching cups hanging from hooks beneath a wooden rack holding plates from the same set. Alice wondered if they had been a wedding present, as she cautiously unhooked two cups.

She put the tea things on a tray and then filled a dish of cool water from the one tap in the back kitchen, adding a tea towel she found in the drawer under the sink. Then she carried everything through.

‘Why don’t you pour, Mrs Berry, and I’ll sponge down the boy.’ She knelt beside the little figure and gently dipped the towel in water and wiped his hot face very carefully.

‘Call me Kathleen, do, Miss. I’m so grateful you came round,’ Kathleen said, her hands shaking a little as she filled Alice’s cup. ‘If it’s not typhoid, do you know what’s wrong with him?’

Alice smiled reassuringly. ‘Has he been mixing with anyone who’s got a cold? Babies often show a high temperature when you or I would just feel a little under the weather.’

Kathleen thought for a moment. ‘He might have, Miss. My friend’s brother had to pull out of a match last week as he was took bad but then he was right as rain by the weekend. Could that be it?’

‘It could be something as simple as that. Keep him warm, wipe his face with a cool cloth and give him plenty of fluids.’ Alice looked appraisingly at the young woman. ‘You are feeding him yourself still, I assume?’

Kathleen nodded.

‘You might want to consider a supplementary feed, such as Cow and Gate,’ Alice suggested gently.

‘Oh no, Nurse. Our family don’t hold with that. Mother’s milk is best, that’s what they say.’ Kathleen knew she could never afford any alternative.

‘Well, you’ve got to make sure that you keep your strength up, that you’re taking in enough nutrition to make good milk.’ Alice had noticed the baby was on the scrawny side and suspected the mother was scrimping on meals. She didn’t have a spare ounce of fat on her. ‘Is it just the two of you here?’ She had registered the wedding ring on the young woman’s hand, but also the narrow single bed pushed against the back wall and the clothes rail with a few well-worn frocks on it but no men’s items.

Kathleen’s head came up. ‘My Ray’s away on a merchant ship, Miss. He’ll be back soon and then he’ll see us right. It’s just he can’t always tell us where he is or when he’ll be back, letters take so long, though I always try to keep him up to date with our news. I’m keeping the place nice for when he returns. I’ll be able to pay you then.’

Alice glanced down. She hated the moment when the subject of money was raised, and had already presumed that Kathleen would fall into the bracket of those too poor to afford to pay, and who would therefore be treated for free. But it was a thorny issue. Everyone had their pride, and just because cash was short didn’t mean Kathleen wanted to be a sympathy case. Alice fixed her gaze on the rag rug on the bare floor, which had been skilfully made, even if not very recently. ‘You might be eligible for extra milk from the local authority. You can drink it yourself and also dilute it for your baby.’

Kathleen visibly recoiled at the notion of receiving a handout. ‘That won’t be necessary, Nurse.’

‘No need to worry about that just now,’ Alice said hastily. ‘You let us know when your husband comes home and we can maybe talk about it then. But in the meanwhile, you mustn’t hesitate to call for us again if the boy doesn’t improve or goes down with something else.’ She looked directly at Kathleen. ‘The best way to keep your child well is to make sure you stay healthy yourself, Mrs Berry. Kathleen.’ She paused to let her words sink in. ‘And that means eating well. I know it’s not always easy to find the time when you are busy but you have to remember to do so.’

Kathleen flushed. Of course she’d been missing meals. There wasn’t the money to eat properly every day, but she was damned if she’d admit that to the kind nurse.

Alice had finished her tea and was making ready to leave when there came a knock at the door and a young woman came in without waiting for Kathleen to answer. In the dim light the first thing Alice noticed was her hair – there was so much of it, partially pinned up but most of it falling down around her shoulders, windblown and untameable. ‘Thought you were coming round?’ she demanded, and then stopped in her tracks. ‘Sorry, didn’t realise you had company.’

Alice stood. ‘I was just leaving. I’m Nurse Lake, Alice Lake.’

Kathleen hurriedly stood as well. ‘Oh, Mattie, Brian was took bad and I clean forgot. I’m sorry, I hope your ma didn’t go to no trouble …’

‘Don’t be silly.’ Mattie took one look at her friend who was all of a fluster and went and gave her a big hug. Then she turned to Alice. ‘You’re not going on my account, are you?’

‘No, no, I was on my way anyway,’ Alice assured her. ‘I’ve taken a look at Brian and I’m sure he’s in no danger. He just needs good care and plenty of rest.’

Mattie nodded. ‘Glad to hear it. I’m Mattie Askew, by the way. I’ve got a baby Brian’s age so I know what it’s like, don’t I, Kath? Only I live at me ma’s while my Lennie’s away, so I got someone to help me out and look after her now and again.’

Kathleen breathed out. ‘Your ma’s a diamond, Mattie. She’s been good to me an’ all. I don’t know where I’d be without her, that’s the truth.’

Alice picked up her bag. ‘Well, I’m glad to see you’ve got a good friend, Kathleen. A trouble shared is a trouble halved, that’s what they say.’ She moved towards the door.

‘Works both ways,’ Mattie said staunchly. ‘When my Lennie joined up I was in a proper tizz, and Kathleen looked after me then. He always wanted to go into the army but when he went ahead and did it I didn’t know what to do. It was Kathleen what stopped me running after him and making a fool of myself.’ She grinned at her friend with affection. Alice saw Kathleen in a different light, not a poverty-stricken young woman panicking about her child’s health, but a steadfast friend who could be relied upon. It was a good lesson to learn on her first real visit as a district nurse. People had different sides and you couldn’t presume that you understood everything about them on one short visit.

‘I’ll say goodbye, then,’ she said. ‘Don’t hesitate to call on me again, Kathleen. Remember what I said earlier.’

‘I will. I reckon he’ll be right as rain now,’ said Kathleen, stepping towards the door to see Alice out. ‘Thank you, Nurse. You’ve set my mind at rest and I’m really grateful.’ She stood at the open door as Alice lifted her Gladstone bag into the wire basket of her bike and set off.

Mattie took a look at Brian and carefully placed her hand on his small forehead. ‘He is a bit warm, isn’t he? What did she think it was?’

Kathleen came back inside and shook her head ruefully. ‘He’s better than he was. She sponged him down ever so gently and he settled at last. He was ever so hot this morning, and I thought … I thought …’ She could barely form the word as the fear leapt up inside her once more, but she forced herself to stay calm. ‘You know. Like down in Shoreditch. I thought it had come here and he’d got it.’

‘Oh, Kath.’ Mattie knew exactly what her friend was thinking, and if she were honest she’d worried about it herself, even though she rarely went anywhere near the area. ‘It won’t be that, really it won’t.’

‘I know that now.’ Kathleen composed herself again. ‘She said he probably had a bit of a cold and that babies his age can get a temperature where you or me wouldn’t have more than a bit of a sniffle.’

‘Probably got it off our Harry.’ Mattie shifted uncomfortably. ‘I’ll kill him. I said to stay away from the little ’uns but he can’t resist them. He was picking up your Brian and playing with him a few days ago, wasn’t he?’

Kathleen nodded. ‘Don’t blame him though, Mattie. I’m glad he plays with them. Brian likes it, you can tell. Does him good to get a cuddle from someone apart from me. Not all men like to do it, so don’t you go stopping him.’

Mattie knew what Kathleen really meant. ‘Still no word from Ray, then?’

Kathleen shook her head. ‘He can’t send word if he’s halfway to Canada, can he? Stands to reason, that does. I don’t expect to hear nothing till he’s back in port, and who knows when that’ll be?’

‘Who knows,’ Mattie echoed loyally, keeping her true feelings out of her voice. She wouldn’t trust Ray Berry as far as she could throw him which, given that he was six foot tall and she was a shade over five foot two, wouldn’t be far. She knew Kathleen loved him with a fierce and unstoppable passion, which meant she never complained about being left high and dry with a baby to look after on hardly any money. She herself wouldn’t have put up with it. But then, her Lennie sent home a portion of his wages regular as clockwork, and wrote letters every time he could. He was desperate for news of his baby daughter. He and Ray were as different as chalk and cheese.

‘You going to come back with me, then?’ she asked now. ‘Bring Brian – if he’s got what Harry had then we’d all have caught it by now if we were going to. Ma’s made a big pot of stew and says it won’t last, and she’ll be furious if I don’t bring you home with me.’

Kathleen briefly shut her eyes. She knew she was a bit of a charity case, and didn’t want to presume on Mattie’s mother’s kindness. All the same, her mouth was watering at the thought of her stew, and Nurse Lake had been very clear: she had to eat well to keep Brian in good health. She really didn’t have much choice.

‘I’d love to,’ she said.

CHAPTER THREE

Edith was deep in conversation with Mary Perkins when Alice returned, a little shaky after the ride on the unfamiliar bike.

‘Come and have a cup of tea,’ Mary said at once. ‘I know what it’s like to ride that boneshaker. You’ll want a good sit-down to recover.’ She got up to boil the kettle and refresh the pot that she and Edith had already started. They were in the big room on the lower-ground floor, which was comfortably if slightly shabbily furnished to function as a combined dining and common room, next to the handy service room with all that thirsty nurses could need, as each had their own cupboard for drinks and snacks as well as a communal iron and ironing board. Light poured in through the big windows, and Alice could see the bike stand through one of them.

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ she said, collapsing onto a wooden carver chair, the seat of which was softened by a big patchwork cushion. ‘I found my way there and back all right though. I’m slowly getting my bearings.’

Mary set a cup and saucer in front of her. ‘There you are. What was it like? Was the baby very sick?’

Alice sipped the welcome tea and thought for a moment. ‘No, not really. Well, he had a temperature but I’m pretty sure it was nothing to worry about. It’s just that the real reason for concern is he’s undernourished, and we can’t do much about that unless the mother lets us.’

Edith looked at her. ‘Remember, they warned us about that in our lectures. You can’t save everyone, Alice, even though I know you want to.’

‘I know, I know.’ Alice was only too aware that she had a tendency to get drawn in. It was the only fault that her previous matron had noted. She’d been ticked off for not maintaining a professional barrier, and told in no uncertain terms that it would do nobody any good – not the patient and not her. ‘Really, Edith, you needn’t worry. I’m not about to go round there and start taking over. It’s just – well, the mother was trying her best, you could see it in the way she kept the place, but she had next to nothing. She can barely feed herself, let alone the baby.’

Mary raised her eyebrows. ‘Like I said, you’ll be back, I’ll put money on it. A penny it’s within the fortnight. What do you say?’

‘I … I don’t really bet,’ Alice said, secretly shocked. She had been raised to think of gambling as a sin, and yet here was Mary blithely offering to put money down on a patient getting sick again. It didn’t seem right, but she didn’t want to appear too disapproving on her first day.

‘Oh, Alice doesn’t like a flutter but I do.’ Edith’s eyes gleamed. ‘Just you wait till I have my first case.’

‘Didn’t you get called out today, then?’ Alice asked.

‘No, I’ve been unpacking and making myself familiar with where everything is around here,’ Edith explained. ‘Nearest bathroom, quickest way down the stairs, who sleeps where, that kind of thing. Met a few of our colleagues and heard all the stories about which doctors are easiest to work with and which try to palm you off with patients they don’t want to deal with. Tested out which of the chairs down here are the comfiest.’

Alice nodded. ‘Have you been outside?’ She had a very good idea of what Edith had been on the lookout for.

‘I might have.’ Edith rolled her eyes. ‘There’s a solid tall fence to the side but the one at the back is a bit rickety.’ She grinned.

Alice said nothing but sent a silent message to her friend to go no further. Neither of them knew Mary well enough yet to share what Edith was up to, but Alice was sure she’d been checking for ways in and out after curfew. She’d done the same at their last place, working out where the rotten fence posts were and pushing in that way if she hadn’t got back in time. Alice didn’t exactly approve, but she wasn’t going to land Edith in hot water if she could help it.

Mary remained blissfully ignorant of what was going on under her nose. ‘I got called out just after you left. One of the girls who works in the gas-mask factory had run a needle through her hand, but hadn’t done anything about it. She stayed off work but only thought to tell the doctor once the wound started puffing up. Should have disinfected it immediately but too late now. Anyway I cleaned it and dressed it and she should be all right, but it’ll take her twice as long to heal than if she’d had it seen to at once.’ She shrugged.

‘Gas-mask factory?’ Edith sat up in her hard-backed chair.

‘Yes, it’s not far from here. Used to be a furniture factory but now it turns out all those ghastly masks in case there’s a war. Which there won’t be,’ Mary said confidently, draining her cup.

Alice looked up. ‘Are you sure? There are lots of people who’d disagree with you.’

Mary nodded. ‘Oh, of course. Mr Chamberlain wouldn’t declare war, that’s tosh. He’ll keep us safe, there’s no question of it.’

Alice swallowed slowly. She wondered how her new colleague could be so definite in her views when all around quiet preparations were going ahead in case the worst came to the worst. This very morning they had seen many kerbstones painted white to stand out if the city was in blackout, and from the top deck of the bus they had glimpsed skylights painted black to hide any lights beneath them. ‘So why are they making gas masks?’ she asked.

‘It’s just a precaution,’ Mary said breezily. ‘I expect they’ll go back to making toys or whatever those factories did until recently. Give them a few months and all the panic will be over. I’m not going around wearing a gas mask, I can tell you that right now. It’s bad enough trying to keep my hair in order as it is.’

‘Yes, they aren’t really designed with fashion in mind,’ said Edith, trying to make light of it while keeping an eye on Alice. She knew her friend followed public events with keen scrutiny, and had little patience with people who buried their heads in the sand. Would Alice start an argument now? Normally she was the most level-headed person around, but she had been known to grow hot under the collar about world affairs.

Alice held her tongue, but Edith could see it was an effort. ‘Well, all I can say is there are lots of Canadian and American servicemen in town, so I shan’t complain.’ She smiled at the memory of the last time she’d been out dancing.

‘Edith, you are dreadful,’ said Alice, but without malice. ‘Mary, pay no attention to her.’

‘Oh no, I completely agree,’ Mary said. ‘They’re so smart, aren’t they? And I do like their uniforms. Especially the Canadians. They’re so straightforward; you haven’t got to go through the usual palaver about who their families are or if they’ve gone to school with your brothers.’

Edith nodded dubiously. She didn’t usually have to worry about that sort of thing, especially as all her brothers had done their best to avoid school whenever possible. ‘Lots of them are good dancers,’ she said.

‘Aren’t they just? And they aren’t shy to ask you onto the dance floor,’ Mary said with growing enthusiasm. ‘We’ll have to put them to the test the next time our shifts allow. We’ll have such fun. Long may they stay over here.’

There was a sound from the door, a gruff cough, and an older woman appeared in a highly starched nurse’s uniform.

‘That’s enough of such frivolous talk, Nurse Perkins,’ she said, her expression lined with severity, her cardigan buttoned tightly all the way up to her throat. ‘You might think war is just an excuse for dancing with young men, but I can tell you right now it is no laughing matter. Besides, you owe it to your training to put your profession first and not to lower our standards. Kindly bear that in mind.’ She let her gaze rest on each of them in turn before abruptly swirling around, leaving them open-mouthed.

‘Who was that?’ asked Edith after a moment.

Mary pulled a face. ‘Gwen. You heard her earlier. She’s been here for ever, and is as old as the hills. Well, as you saw. She disapproves of everybody and everything and her pet hate is anyone enjoying themselves. As she’s Fiona’s deputy, she’s always telling us off for something. Bet she hasn’t been out dancing for years. Well, that’s not my fault.’

Edith grimaced. ‘That’s too bad, but I can tell you right now, I think we deserve a bit of fun in our time off. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a nurse and I work hard, but everyone is entitled to a spot of recreation now and again. Isn’t that true, Alice?’

Alice paused. She’d caught a look in the older woman’s eye that made her wonder why she was so sharp, so judgemental. Still, it couldn’t be much fun watching young nurses arrive, full of life and energy, if you were older and more set in your ways.

‘You go on out and enjoy yourselves,’ she said. ‘I’m no good at dancing. I’d rather stay in with a good book, if you want the truth.’

‘Oh, I’m sure that can’t be so!’ Mary exclaimed. ‘Look at you, you’ll be bombarded with offers to dance. We’ll have to take your rejected suitors.’

Alice smiled gamely but her heart wasn’t in it. She had no intention of going dancing, with Mary or anyone else. She used to do it with a light heart but that was before. She was no longer that carefree young nursing student. Life had seen to that.

As soon as Mattie and Kathleen opened the door the steam hit them. Delicious wafts were coming from the kitchen and they could hear Mattie’s mother singing at full volume, unaware that anyone had come in. ‘My old man said follow the van,’ she sang, slightly off-key.

Mattie grinned. ‘Come on through, then we can put Brian down with Gillian.’ She led the way down the short corridor to the big kitchen, three times the size of Kathleen’s, where little Gillian was tucked into a cot in the corner and her grandmother stood at the range, her sleeves rolled up and her face red with the heat from cooking.

‘Kathleen Berry! And there was me thinking you’d got a better offer.’ The older woman put down her big wooden spoon and strode across to greet her guest. ‘You need feeding up by the looks of you. And how’s the boy?’ She peered at the little bundle in Kathleen’s arms. ‘Has your Auntie Mattie brought you round for your tea? He’s a proper little darling, just look at him.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Banham,’ said Kathleen, who still found Mattie’s mother overwhelming even though she’d known her for years. ‘It’s kind of you to have us.’

‘Nonsense, what else am I going to do with all this stew? It would be a crying shame for it to go to waste,’ Flo Banham insisted, returning to her bubbling pot.

‘I’m sure Joe and Harry could finish it off,’ Kathleen said, knowing that Mattie’s brothers had hollow legs, particularly when it came to their mother’s cooking. She carefully tucked Brian into the opposite end of the big cot, which had held generations of Banham children, and had plenty of room for two small babies.

Flo Banham tutted. ‘There will be plenty to go round. I went down Ridley Road and the butcher let me have this cheap as he was expecting a new delivery. Practically begged me to take it off him, he did.’ She gave the stew one more vigorous stir and then put on the lid. ‘There, we’ll let that simmer away for a while and then it’ll be ready by the time the boys get back.’

Mattie grinned. Her brothers hadn’t been boys for a long time but their mother always called them that, as if they still needed cosseting and looking after. She used to think that was funny but now that she had Gillian, she understood it better. She couldn’t imagine ever not wanting to take care of her. She looked over the side of the cot at the little girl, fast asleep, her soft baby hair spread out on the little pillow. ‘Has she been good?’ she asked her mother.

‘She’s been a little angel for her granny,’ said Flo, coming to join her daughter to gaze down at the youngest member of the family. ‘She’s far quieter than you ever were, Mattie. You used to burst into tears every time I put you into your cot. I had to tie you in a sling so I could carry you round while I did my housework.’

‘Must be why I’m so good at it now,’ said Mattie cheekily, rolling her eyes. She’d heard it all before.

Kathleen sat down in the rocking chair with a sigh. She was tired out by the worries of the day and because Brian had kept her awake for much of the night, but it was comforting to hear Mattie and her mother gently bickering. After a few moments she felt herself nodding off and, although she fought to stop it, the warmth of the room soon had her falling into a light doze. That came to an abrupt end when the front door banged and loud voices filled the air. Mattie’s brothers were home.

Kathleen jolted upright, shaking her head to clear it, as Joe and Harry strode into the kitchen. Neither was surprised to see her there. Harry flung his jacket at a stool beside the back door, but his mother caught him.

‘You just put that back in the hallway where it belongs, Harry Banham,’ she scolded. ‘A place for everything and everything in its place – how else are we going to manage, can you tell me that? If Joe can remember then I don’t see why you can’t as well.’

Harry rolled his eyes but went to do as he was asked. ‘Won’t do any harm, it’s only a jacket,’ he protested, his voice echoing back down the hall.

‘It’s cluttering up my kitchen, that’s what it’s doing. If we all did that there’d be no room to cook.’ His mother wasn’t going to let him get away with anything. Harry was always trying his luck, trying to wind her around his little finger, but she’d had years of practice at resisting his easy charm.

Joe snorted, settling himself down at the well-scrubbed old wooden table, fishing the evening paper out of his back pocket. ‘Hello, Kathleen. Brought little Brian round to see Gillian, have you?’

‘Yes, they’re both in the cot,’ Kathleen began, before Harry burst back in and made his way over to that corner, making eager noises.

‘How are my two best playmates?’ he said in a singsong voice, and Kathleen looked up in alarm.

Mattie saw and intercepted her brother. ‘Leave them to sleep, Harry,’ she said firmly. ‘Brian’s been up half the night and given Kath the runaround – all because he caught your cold. Poor little mite can’t fight it off like you can. He needs his sleep.’

Harry slunk away, chastened but not for long. ‘I’ll teach him to fight once he’s big enough though. I’ll take him down the ring when he can walk, Kath, see if he likes it. It’d be the making of him.’

Kathleen shook her head. ‘I don’t know if I hold with all that boxing, Harry. I know you’re good at it but it always looks awful rough.’

Harry strutted across his mother’s rag rug. ‘It’ll turn him into a real man, Kath. Go on, say you’ll let him try.’

‘Plenty of time yet,’ said Flo, wiping her hands on her faded apron. ‘Give the little fellow a chance to make up his own mind, and don’t be bothering Kathleen about it all the time.’

‘And look what it’s done to you,’ Mattie added. ‘Knocked what little sense you ever had clean out of your head.’

Harry folded his arms. ‘You won’t say that when I bring home the shield. I’ll have all the big promoters after me once I start winning big time. It won’t be long now, then you’ll have to fight your way to your own front door, the crowds’ll be out there shouting for me to sign their autograph books.’

Mattie shook her head. ‘Says you. That’ll be the day. More likely someone’ll bust your nose, then you’ll be all upset that your beauty’s ruined.’

Harry couldn’t help but turn to the mirror over the mantelpiece to check his face. He was good-looking and he knew it, with oak-brown hair that was thick enough to be the envy of all the girls he knew – and he knew a lot. So far, despite having been a keen amateur boxer for several years, his looks hadn’t been ruined and he’d kept his unmarked profile. ‘You’re just jealous,’ he said, ruffling Mattie’s hair because he knew it annoyed her.

‘Gerroff,’ she protested, swiping at him.

Joe cleared his throat, well used to breaking up arguments between his two younger siblings. ‘Give it a rest, you two. Let me read the paper in peace.’ He turned his attention back to the headlines, even though they didn’t make for cheerful reading.

‘Kath had the nurse round to see Brian today, you’d made him so poorly,’ Mattie said, goading her brother once more.

Harry’s face fell. ‘Really, Kath? Was he that bad? I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. You know I’d never do that deliberately.’

Kath nodded. ‘I know. He’s just got a bit of a cold, that’s probably all it is, but he was so hot and I couldn’t get him to settle. Anyway, the nurse was very kind. I think she’s new, I haven’t seen her before.’

‘There, see, Mattie, if you’d stayed on at school like your teacher wanted you to, you could have been a nurse too,’ said Harry.

Mattie tossed her head, and the remaining hair in her bun fell out and tumbled to her shoulders. ‘Leave it out, Harry. You know what it’s like as well as I do. They don’t let you do nothing in those nurses’ homes, it’s worse than being in school. I’d never have been able to marry my Lennie and then we wouldn’t have Gillian, and then you’d be sorry.’

Harry shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. I reckon they’re all hoity-toity anyway.’

Kathleen felt obliged to defend Alice. ‘This one wasn’t. She didn’t speak all posh like some of them. She wasn’t that much older than me neither. She was lovely and kind to Brian and she made me a cup of tea. I felt better for seeing her and that’s the truth.’

Flo put a gentle hand on the young woman’s shoulder. ‘Don’t you let that Harry wind you up. I’m glad the nurse could help. That’s what we pay into the provident scheme for, after all.’

Kathleen’s face flushed red in embarrassment, knowing she couldn’t afford to be part of the scheme, but Mattie came to her rescue. ‘Kath’s right, this one wasn’t hoity-toity. She spoke normal – she’s not from round here though. Anyway, that didn’t matter. If Gillian gets taken poorly I’m going to ask for her specially.’

‘I don’t think they let you do that,’ warned Joe from behind his paper with its picture of Neville Chamberlain on the front.

‘Well, they might. If they do I’m going to tell them I want Alice Lake,’ said Mattie firmly. ‘You can say what you like, Joe. I’m going to try, but touch wood I don’t have to.’

Harry immediately touched his sister’s head, and was swiped away once more.

Joe sighed and folded the paper in half, laying it on the table. ‘I don’t like the sound of this,’ he said quietly, tapping one of the articles. ‘They’re gearing up for something big, that’s what it feels like.’

‘Oh, don’t be like that, Joe,’ said Mattie. ‘It’s all a big fuss over nothing, I bet.’

Joe shook his head, and his mother caught his expression. Normally she’d be the first to encourage everyone to look on the bright side, but her eldest’s face gave her pause. She was increasingly coming to respect his views. Joe was the one who’d buckled down to his lessons and got a scholarship to the technical college, a rare achievement for a boy from Jeeves Street. He knew what he was talking about. Mattie could have done well at school if she hadn’t had boys on the brain, and Harry had only ever shown interest in boxing. But her Joe – she was quietly extremely proud of her firstborn. He was going to make something of his life – if this threat of war didn’t get in the way.

Now she busied herself stacking plates beside the stove. Worrying about the future wouldn’t change it. What mattered to her were the people in this room right now – her children and the friend who was almost a member of the family, along with the precious babies. Only one person was missing, and footsteps outside the back door heralded his arrival.

Stanley Banham pushed open the door and inhaled the delicious smell of his wife’s beef stew. ‘That’s something to come home to!’ he exclaimed, going across to peck her quickly on the cheek, as he wasn’t given to big shows of affection.

Flo Banham beamed. Now all was right in her world. She just hoped it would stay that way.

CHAPTER FOUR

Gwen wove her way along the busy street, automatically dodging the boys running messages for their employers, the housewives shopping for food, the small children too young to go to school. Her mind was whirling and she longed for the peace and quiet of her room at the nurses’ home to think about what she’d just heard.

She’d met up with her old friend Miriam for a cup of tea in a café just off Kingsland Road. Miriam, as always, was immaculately turned out, far more fashionable than Gwen had ever been, even when she’d been young and cared about such things. Miriam’s smart navy suit with wide white-trimmed collar put Gwen’s serviceable old brown jacket to shame.

However, Miriam had looked troubled and Gwen soon found out why. Miriam’s husband ran an upholstery factory not far from the café, and for years the business had been growing steadily. Now there was a change in the air, and unrest among some of the people working there. ‘It’s that Oswald Mosley, he stokes them up,’ Miriam complained. ‘He tells them it’s the Jews who are behind the threat of war, that it’s all our fault. Damn the man. You know his followers are doing disgusting things, pinning pigs’ heads to the synagogues, defacing our shops. It’s made Jacob really worried. Now, when he goes to business meetings, he says some of his former contacts ignore him.’

‘Mosley’s lot talk about peace though,’ Gwen pointed out.

‘Gwen!’ Miriam had been shocked. ‘You’re never telling me you agree with the Fascists? If you do, you’re not the woman I thought you were.’

‘No, no, of course not,’ Gwen said hurriedly. ‘It’s just that I can’t bear the thought of another war. You know what it’s like, you lived through the last one.’ She sighed. ‘I want to believe there’s hope that it won’t happen. Surely there’s still a chance?’

Miriam had raised a beautifully shaped eyebrow at her friend. ‘And if you believe that, Gwen, then again, you aren’t the woman I thought you were.’

They had changed the subject, turning to news of Miriam and Jacob’s son Max, who was in New York, partly for business and partly taking advantage of the chance to see the world. ‘I think he’s met a girl,’ Miriam confided. ‘He won’t say much – he never does. But a mother can tell.’

Gwen had nodded sagely, even though she had no children of her own.

Now she strolled slowly back to Victory Walk, her unease increasing with every step. She wanted so badly to hope that there wouldn’t be another war. What had happened twenty-five years ago had been unbearable and she didn’t think she could go through it all over again. She glanced at the street sign, thinking that it would be a hollow victory indeed if it was all to start up once more. But she was a realist, not a dreamer, and Miriam’s words had confirmed her growing fears. Miriam wasn’t given to despair; her own life had taught her to make the best of things. So if she was gloomy about the future, Gwen took it very seriously.

She valued her time with her friend. It was a respite from the hard daily work of a nurse, and also it was wonderful to chat with somebody her own age. Fiona Dewar was sensible and kind, but as superintendent of the busy nurses’ home she rarely had a moment for a casual chinwag. Gwen sighed. She couldn’t blame the other nurses for being young – after all, she herself had once been their age. But she could blame them – or at least some of them – for their silliness.

That Mary Perkins for a start. Heaven only knew how the girl had managed to qualify as a nurse. She had no common sense at all. To be fair, Gwen could see that she was good with her many elderly patients, warm and friendly. But she was as daft as a brush. She seemed to believe whatever anybody told her, whether it was likely to be true or not. How on earth had she ever passed her exams?

Then there were those new arrivals. Gwen prided herself on being a good judge of character and she could sense that Edith Gillespie had trouble written all over her. As yet she’d done nothing, but then she’d only been at the home for a week. Gwen decided to keep a very close eye on that one. She didn’t like disruptive influences in the home – that meant everyone was on edge and therefore didn’t work as well. That in turn might mean one of them could make a mistake, possibly a fatal one. She couldn’t allow that.

She was less sure about the other young woman, the taller one with the dark blonde hair. She was much harder to read. So far she’d shown herself to be competent and steady. Fiona had let slip that she had outstanding references. However, she gave very little away. She hadn’t shown any tendency towards flightiness, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t lurking there underneath. Gwen decided to keep a close eye on her as well, just in case. You couldn’t be too careful in this profession.

Pushing open the door to the nurses’ home she was greeted with a whoop of joy from somewhere on the lower-ground floor, probably the common room, and then there was a loud burst of laughter. Two seconds later Mary Perkins and that new girl, Edith, came skidding out into the corridor, hastily turning their run into a walk when they saw her glowering at them from the front porch.

‘I’m glad to see you are enjoying yourselves,’ Gwen said firmly, ‘but I must remind you that there is to be no running along the corridors. What if someone were to come down the stairs, possibly carrying something sharp?’

Mary Perkins nodded. ‘Of course. We were just pleased to find out that we’ve got the same free time this week.’

Gwen moved to one side to let them past. She doubted the pair would be spending their leisure hours studying together, or doing anything useful. She closed her eyes briefly. She really mustn’t condemn them out of hand, and yet she reckoned they didn’t have two ounces of brain cells to rub together between them.

‘Oooh, look, they’re definitely Canadian.’ Mary perched on her stool to one side of the Paramount’s dance floor, eyeing the crowd. She nudged Edith, who was looking the other way, trying to catch a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors.

‘Careful! You nearly had my ginger beer.’ Edith adjusted herself on her stool. She knew it was a mistake to wear a white frock out dancing, it showed every smudge and spill, but she couldn’t resist showing it off. It had a tight waistband, full skirt and deep stiff collar, and she reckoned it was her best chance of looking suave and sophisticated. Being so short, she often felt like a schoolgirl. The downside of this frock was the pressing need to avoid anyone who might knock over a drink on it. Such as Mary.

Mary herself had piled her hair high and wore an equally arresting dress in turquoise silk, designed to draw attention to her curves. It was drawing the attentions of the Canadians right now, and two broke from their group and made their way over.

‘Excuse me, ladies, but would you care for a dance?’ asked the taller one, and Mary immediately jumped off her stool. Edith took in his friend, a pleasant-enough seeming young man, slightly more bashful but evidently keen to hit the floor. ‘Shall we?’ she said, carefully putting her glass on a small side table.

‘Gosh, you’re a good dancer,’ Mary said after the Canadians had reluctantly retreated in order to catch their breath. ‘I can see you’ve done this before.’ The loud hum of many young people enjoying themselves almost drowned out her voice.

‘I have, though I didn’t come here very often,’ Edith admitted. ‘Tottenham Court Road was too far from where I grew up, and we trained in West London so it was usually the Hammersmith Palais. That’s too far from Dalston though. Anyway, you’re not so bad yourself.’

‘That nice pilot was very sweet and said all the right things, but actually he had two left feet. I had to do all the work while making him think he was leading me.’ Mary sighed. ‘Why is it some grown men can’t count to four? It’s not hard.’

‘I hope he’s better at numbers when he’s navigating,’ Edith giggled, swigging the last of her ginger beer. Then her face fell. ‘Talking of numbers, have you seen the time? We’ve well and truly missed curfew.’

Mary shrugged. ‘We knew we probably would.’

Edith looked guilty. ‘Yes, but Alice will wait up. It’s not fair on her. We’ll have to go. What a shame, here come those pilots again. You explain to them we must be off and I’ll go and queue at the cloakroom.’

Mary nodded reluctantly. ‘All right, although we might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. I don’t want to upset Alice, though. You fetch my cream jacket and I’ll let these nice young men down gently, and won’t tell them it’s because one of them can’t dance for toffee.’

Edith and Mary crept carefully along the back fence of the nurses’ home, having just caught the last bus. The ground behind the home was uneven and tricky to navigate in their dancing shoes, which made Edith want to giggle. She knew that would be a bad idea. It was a warm evening and some of her fellow nurses might have kept their windows open, which would surely mean they would hear every unusual noise.

‘Ouch!’ Mary grabbed on to Edith’s arm as she nearly twisted her ankle. ‘That was lucky, I thought I was a goner then. That will teach me to wear heels. I could take them off but these stones will rip my stockings to bits.’

‘Shh, keep it down,’ Edith hissed. ‘We’re nearly there.’ She felt along the fence, testing each panel by gently pushing it, until she found the spot she was searching for. With a little creak it gave way, exposing a gap just wide enough to squeeze through. Carefully she gathered her skirt and hoiked it up so she wouldn’t rip the seam. ‘Mind that nail, don’t want to damage your lovely silk frock.’ She gave a final wriggle and was through.

Mary struggled to fit through the gap, cursing the curves that had brought her so much admiration during the evening. She finally made it, but there was a splintering noise as the adjacent panel gave way. ‘Now what?’ she asked.

‘Shhh. Not so loud. I left one of the common-room windows open just a little and asked Alice to check nobody had shut it before she went to bed.’ Edith made her way across the back yard and approached the casement. ‘This is it. I hope she didn’t wait up for us.’

Slowly she edged the sash upwards, making sure not to let it squeak in its frame, and then pulled herself up and over the window ledge and into the common room. ‘Here, take my hands, I’ll pull you up,’ she whispered, not knowing how agile Mary was. Excelling on the dance floor didn’t mean she would have the strength to climb in through a window.

Mary gratefully accepted the help and struggled to reach the windowsill, using all her strength to make it over the threshold. ‘Gosh, that was harder than I thought,’ she admitted, sinking down onto the nearest chair in the dark room. The streetlight from the side road illuminated the sofas and the dining tables, all neatly laid and waiting for the following morning’s breakfast.

Slowly it became clear there was a tall figure standing by the entrance to the service room, half hidden by the deep shadow. ‘Alice? Is that you?’ Edith called as loudly as she dared.

The figure came swiftly forwards; the hair was scraped back in a severe bun, not falling in long waves, and too late Edith realised her mistake. ‘Nurse Gillespie, Nurse Perkins,’ snapped Gwen. ‘What is the meaning of this? Not only have you broken the rule of curfew, which is there for a very good reason, namely your own protection, but you are also utterly incompetent. If you intend to go sneaking around at night, you might consider your clothing. That dress and that jacket make you stand out like beacons. Clearly you don’t mind missing your sleep but I do. You will report to me before breakfast in the morning.’ With that she turned briskly and strode out, leaving Edith and Mary with a cold feeling of fear in their stomachs.

‘Was it awful?’ Alice asked in sympathy when Edith finally took her place at the table for breakfast. There was very little left, but Alice had saved some toast for her friend and persuaded Gladys not to put the butter and marmalade away.

Edith’s shoulders slumped in dejection. ‘It wasn’t very nice. She hauled us both over the coals. There wasn’t much we could say as we were caught red-handed.’ She brightened a little. ‘Still, I convinced her that you weren’t part of it. I stupidly said your name when I climbed in and Gwen was sure you were down here somewhere up to no good, but I just said I thought she was you because you’re both tall.’

Alice pulled a face. ‘That’s kind. I did check the window for you, though, so I’m guilty too. Should I tell her – will that make her less cross?’

Edith shook her head vehemently. ‘No. Absolutely not. It won’t achieve anything useful; it’ll just make her mistrust you as much as she does Mary and me, which you don’t deserve seeing as you didn’t go out dancing but stayed in with your book. And anyway …’ She took a big bite out of her toast ‘… you’d only get in the way. Me and Mary have got to clear out the district room, wash the whole place down with Dettol – shelves, cupboards, walls, the lot – and then put it back together again. Two’s plenty for that. Oh, and we’re grounded for a week.’

‘That’s tough luck.’ Alice grimaced, sorry for her friend. ‘But was it worth it? Did you enjoy yourselves?’

Edith gave a cheeky grin. She was rarely depressed for long. ‘It was. You should see the Paramount. It’s packed to the rafters with people who want to dance, including some very friendly Canadians. I didn’t really fancy mine but he was good for a few spins on the dance floor and he bought me a ginger beer. So yes, it was worth it.’

‘You are impossible.’ Part of Alice thought she should disapprove of her friend taking such a risk but the other part knew how much Edith enjoyed a night out.

‘Not at all. It was good clean fun. Maybe you’ll come along next time?’

Alice’s expression closed down. ‘Maybe,’ she said cautiously, in the tone of voice that Edith knew meant ‘no’.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘Go on, Alice. Say you’ll come,’ begged Edith. ‘It’s a lovely day. You’ll enjoy yourself once you’re there.’

Alice hesitated. It was rare that they both had the afternoon off together, and there was no denying it – the sun was shining, and only a light breeze disturbed the leaves of the trees outside. Edith’s long, dull week of being grounded had at last come to its end, and to give her her due, there had been little in the way of complaining, even if she had reeked of Dettol for days on end. A concert in Victoria Park might take Alice’s mind off all the sombre news she’d been hearing on the wireless about the threat of conflict in Poland, even though she’d planned to spend the afternoon catching up with those newspapers she hadn’t had time to read during the past week. ‘All right,’ she said, suddenly making the decision. ‘Why not? Did you say there would be a band playing?’

‘Yes, there’s a bandstand and we’ll head for that. Mary said she’d make a picnic,’ Edith explained.

Alice hadn’t realised Mary had the afternoon off as well.

‘The more the merrier,’ Edith went on, catching the look of hesitation on her friend’s face. ‘She hasn’t been out all week either. Besides, her mother has sent her some fruitcake and she said she’d bring it. I’ll bring some lemonade.’

‘The shop on the corner had some lovely apples when I went past yesterday,’ Alice remembered. ‘I’ll buy some of those, shall I? They’ll go well with fruit-cake.’

‘Shall I make some sandwiches?’ Edith offered. ‘Just a few. We don’t want to get hungry, do we? I’ll see if Mary can fit it all in her wicker basket.’

Alice stretched out luxuriously beneath the shade of the big tree. The sun had been hot on their faces as they’d sat close to the bandstand, and now that the music was over they’d taken refuge, Edith unpacking the picnic as Mary spread out a red and white checked cloth. From all around came the sounds of children playing, and people were strolling by in all directions. Others were settling on the grass with their own picnics. Everyone seemed to have had the same idea.

Mary produced three tin mugs with a flourish. ‘Look what I found. They were in the back of a cupboard in the service room.’

‘Then we won’t even have to swig from the bottle,’ smiled Edith. ‘We’ll be all correct and proper.’

‘I should hope so,’ said Alice, propping herself up on one elbow. ‘What if any of our patients were to see us? Can’t let the side down by swigging from a bottle in public.’

Mary grinned, pitching up the sleeves of her lilac cardigan before laying the mugs on the checked cloth. ‘I’ll drink to that. Edie, can you pop open that lemonade?’

Edith obligingly did so, with a loud fizz as the stopper came loose. Several heads turned nearby to see what the noise was.

Alice held each mug while Mary poured, but Edith’s attention was caught by one of the groups who had looked round at them. She shook her hair a little before returning her gaze to the drinks.

‘Here you are,’ said Alice, passing her a mug. ‘What’s up?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ said Edith, over-casually. ‘Don’t look now, but I think that man over there is looking at us.’

‘What man?’ asked Mary, turning round at once.

‘Mary! Now he’ll think we’re interested,’ Edith tutted. She deliberately cast her gaze upwards into the branches. ‘Do you reckon that’s a blackbird up there, Alice? I can’t quite see.’ She made a show of peering into the foliage, shading her eyes with her hand.

‘Do you mean the fellow in the green shirt?’ Mary asked. ‘Sitting with several other people and a baby?’

‘Maybe. I didn’t really notice the details,’ said Edith unconvincingly.

Alice took a sip of her lemonade and waited for what would come next. Sure enough, in no time at all a male voice sounded from behind them.

‘Good afternoon, ladies,’ said the voice, and one glance revealed that it was a man in a green shirt. ‘I couldn’t help noticing you don’t have a bottle opener. Would you like to borrow ours?’

Edith smiled up at him. ‘Thank you, but we don’t need one. Anyway, we’ve only brought the one bottle of lemonade.’

The man nodded and Alice had to admit that his looks were eye-catching. He had a handsome face, hair like polished oak, and with his sleeves rolled back and his tie-less collar undone, she couldn’t help but notice he had very well-developed muscles. Edith clearly liked what she saw, because she shifted around, rearranging her flared skirt with its colourful patches of bright flowers, and arched her neck at him. ‘Still, thank you for asking. It’s very hot today, isn’t it?’

‘It is.’ The man was smiling back, his eyes dancing with merriment as he took in Edith. ‘Can I offer you ladies something a little stronger? My brother’s brought some beer with us and we won’t finish it all.’

‘Oh no, really we don’t—’ Alice began, but Mary’s reply was louder.

‘That’s very kind. We could mix it and make shandy. Maybe you’d like some too?’

The man in the green shirt nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. Why don’t you come over and join us?’ He pointed across to the group he had just left: a man of similar age to himself, and a woman with her back to the rest of them, clearly holding a young baby.

‘I don’t know …’ muttered Alice, who had been perfectly comfortable under the tree.

‘Oh go on, Alice,’ said Edith, gathering up her skirts and delicately making sure her lemonade didn’t spill against the tree roots. ‘What harm can it do? We haven’t made many new friends apart from the nurses since we moved here. Maybe they can tell us about the area, give us some local tips.’

‘All right, all right.’ Alice could tell when Edith had set her heart on doing something, and it was usually pointless to resist. ‘Give me a moment. Let me tuck our bottle back in the basket and prop it up with the cloth.’ She arranged the bottle so it wouldn’t empty itself over the grass when moved, and got to her feet, trailing across behind the others the short distance to the man, woman and baby.

She’d missed the first introductions, although it wasn’t hard to see that the other man was related to the first. He wasn’t as strikingly good-looking and his hair was darker, but he had similar features. His expression was pleasant but warier. Alice had the clear impression that he wouldn’t have invited a party of strange women to join his family group on the slight pretext of sharing a bottle opener, but he seemed friendly enough. Then the woman turned around properly and she realised she knew her.

‘It’s Nurse Lake, isn’t it?’ said the young woman, kneeling up and placing her baby on the ground in front of her, where there was a pale yellow knitted blanket. ‘Alice?’

‘Mattie! How nice to see you,’ said Alice, swiftly recognising her first patient’s friend. ‘Is this your baby? Isn’t she a little beauty?’

‘Yes, this is Gillian,’ said Mattie, beaming with pride. ‘And these are my brothers, Harry and Joe. Looks as if you’ve already met Harry.’ She pulled an affectionate face. ‘This is the nurse I told you about a few weeks ago, the one who came to see to Brian after you gave him your cold, Harry.’

Harry stuck out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you. Mattie told us all about you. Are you all nurses, then?’

‘We are,’ said Edith. ‘So you can believe us when we say that it’s very important not to get too thirsty on a hot day.’

‘And is shandy an acceptable medicine?’ asked Harry, eyes bright with mischief.

‘It is.’ Edith nodded seriously.

Alice turned back to Mattie. ‘And how is little Brian now? I haven’t heard from Mrs Berry again, so I assumed he was better, but you never know.’

Mattie shifted a little so that Alice could sit down beside her. ‘He’s much better. They almost came with us today but then Kathleen had to go to see her mother about something or other. She said he had a bit of a temperature for a few days after you saw him and some sniffles, but it didn’t last long. He’ll be all right.’

‘Good.’ Alice was relieved. ‘And your friend? Kathleen? How is she? It must be so tiring, looking after a baby on her own, especially when he’s sick.’

Mattie pursed her mouth. ‘Well, she’s as right as can be expected when her husband’s buggered off and left her with hardly a penny. He thinks she can live off air alone. No wonder she’s so thin. My mother feeds her up as much as she can, but Kath’s got her pride.’ She suddenly came to a halt. ‘Sorry, you probably don’t want to know that sort of thing.’

Alice shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, she told me something of the sort when I was there, and I could see she was underweight, and so was Brian.’

Joe sat up and looked at his sister. ‘Mattie, I don’t think you should say things like that about your friend. She’s not here to defend herself.’

Alice leant back a little at the tone of his voice, but Mattie wasn’t deterred.

‘You weren’t there to see how upset Kathleen was, Joe. She was much better by the time you got home, and Brian was on the mend because Nurse Alice was kind to him. I’m only saying what anyone can see for themselves.’

Joe’s frown deepened. ‘It’s her business though, Mattie. You wouldn’t like it if anyone talked about you behind your back or said things about Gillian.’

‘I should hope not!’ Mattie tugged at her collar to loosen it. ‘It’s not the same, is it? Lennie gives me plenty to live on and Gillian is healthy as a horse.’

‘Really, I don’t want to upset anyone,’ said Alice hurriedly, feeling caught in the middle.

‘That’s enough, now, Mattie,’ Joe said, though he looked directly at Alice who felt the weight of his disapproval. ‘I’m sure Kathleen wouldn’t thank any of us for airing her dirty laundry in public.’

So that’s what he thought, Alice realised, that she went around gossiping about her patients. ‘I can assure you …’ she began, but he looked away.

‘I’m sure you acted for the best,’ he said, and then moved so that he was on the other side of the group, leaving Harry, Mary and Edith in the middle, mixing their shandies.

Alice felt a warm anger flushing her cheeks but was determined to hide it. Who did Joe Banham think he was, accusing her of something like that?

‘Want one?’ Mary asked Alice.

Alice almost had to grit her teeth. ‘No, that lemonade was enough, thanks.’

‘Mattie, how about you?’ Mary offered.

Mattie shook her head ruefully. ‘I’d better not. I’m feeding Gillian and some folks say it don’t do her any good.’

Trying to shake off her annoyance, Alice nodded in approval. She’d come across plenty of mothers who thought nothing of having a drink while feeding their babies, but she agreed that it wasn’t good for them.

‘Then I’ll take you back, Mattie,’ said Joe, getting to his feet. ‘Those buses will be getting crowded now these crowds are thinning out. You might as well come back with me and let Harry and his new friends get on with it.’

Mattie pulled a face but agreed. ‘I wouldn’t mind staying a bit longer, but I can always do with a hand, what with the pram and everything.’ She nodded towards where a big silver pram was parked under a neighbouring tree. ‘Bye then, Alice. Thanks again for looking after Kathleen like that. We won’t forget it.’

‘Only doing my job,’ smiled Alice, but she felt slightly resentful that Joe could just end the conversation so abruptly – and sounding so self-righteous, too. Who did he think he was, to pass judgement like that? She could feel herself blushing at the injustice of it but she held her tongue. She didn’t really know these people, after all. It wasn’t her place to cause trouble, and she’d probably never see him again anyway.

Mattie and Joe set off towards the pram and Alice pulled herself closer to the others, accepting a top-up of lemonade and a piece of fruitcake. She wasn’t going to let the incident ruin what had been a lovely afternoon. Poor Mattie to have such a killjoy of an older brother.

Joe Banham fumed silently as he stood on the lower floor of the crowded bus, having made sure Mattie got a seat and the pram was safely on board. It wasn’t just the press of people, or the heat, or the fact that some of their fellow passengers had clearly had more than a single mug of shandy while out enjoying themselves that afternoon. He was used to all that. No, it was the way that nurse had looked at him. It had made him uncomfortable and he didn’t know why.

He’d been surprised that the nurse Mattie had spoken so highly of had turned out to be so willing to listen to gossip. He had thought someone in such a profession would be above that sort of thing. Didn’t they have standards, a code of conduct or suchlike? Should he report her? No, he was being stupid, it wasn’t as bad as that – and yet, he’d reacted to her expression and the few things she’d said in a way that disturbed him. He could tell that she disapproved of him as well. Mattie had said she wasn’t hoity-toity like some of them but he wasn’t so sure. She probably thought she was above him and his family. Plenty of nurses came from good backgrounds and Alice Lake had probably been raised to have the best of everything; a far cry from growing up on Jeeves Street. Well, he was having none of it. He’d worked extremely hard to get his scholarship and had passed his exams at the technical college with flying colours. He was second to none and he wouldn’t stand for some toffee-nosed nurse looking down at him. She had no right. Just because she had a smattering of new freckles on her nose and bright blue eyes, she probably thought she could get around anybody. Well, it wasn’t going to work with him.

He brought himself up short. He hadn’t realised he’d noticed those details about her – they’d only been sitting together for a matter of minutes when it came down to it. It was silly to get worked up about such a small incident on what had up till then been a fine day out. Mattie often found it difficult to get anywhere beyond walking distance if it meant manoeuvring the pram onto public transport and he’d been pleased to help his sister. The trip had been worth it for that alone. He was damned if he would let thoughts of that blonde nurse ruin the occasion.

CHAPTER SIX

July 1939

‘A word, Alice, if I may.’ Fiona Dewar popped her head out of her office doorway just as Alice was walking by. Alice wondered how she did it – was it just luck, did she already recognise her footsteps, or was the superintendent even smarter than they thought? Alice quickly racked her brains for anything she might have done wrong over the past few weeks. Surely she wasn’t going to be blamed for helping Edith and Mary defy the curfew? That was all over and done with.

‘Nothing to worry about,’ Fiona Dewar said, catching the change of expression on the young nurse’s face. ‘I have something I wish to speak to you about, that’s all. Take a seat, do.’ She herself sat down behind her desk, quickly restacking a pile of papers out of habit.

Alice did as she was asked, her mind racing. She touched her Queen’s Nurse badge at her throat, as she often did when anxious.

‘Well, now.’ Fiona sat back in her chair. ‘We have been approached by a local primary school – St Benedict’s, maybe you know it? Just on the other side of Kingsland High Street. You’ll have cycled past it, I’m sure.’

Alice frowned and then nodded. ‘Yes, I know the one. A big brick building, not far from the market.’

Fiona beamed. ‘Got it in one. It’s just opposite the entrance to Ridley Road but along a bit. If you haven’t done so already, you’ll most likely be treating some patients who attend there.’

Alice nodded again. ‘I don’t think I’ve done so yet.’ Then she stopped. ‘No, wait, I have treated the younger brother of one of the pupils there. From one of those really crowded terraces behind the High Street. I went there last week.’

The house had been almost falling down around their ears. Alice had had to strain her eyes to work out who was human and what was furniture, the light was so dim in the front room, despite the sunshine outside. The referral had come from Dr Beasley, often called Beastly Beasley by some of the nurses behind his back, as he didn’t seem to possess an ounce of compassion. Mary could do a horribly realistic impersonation of him. Alice wasn’t surprised that he had failed to warn her of the depths of this family’s situation. It was the most dire she had yet come across.

The patient was hardly more than a baby but already he was showing signs of rickets. Alice had struggled to know what to say to start with. The little boy was sweating, restless, and when she gently touched his limbs he recoiled as if it caused him pain.

‘He always does that, Nurse,’ said the mother, as she tried to restrain a slightly older child – a girl, Alice thought, but in the murk it was tricky to tell. ‘He wouldn’t crawl nor nothing. His dad says he’s just lazy.’

Alice hadn’t been able to prevent her eyebrows from rising. ‘I’m not sure that’s right,’ she said as steadily as she could. ‘It could be a symptom of rickets. Do you know what that is?’

‘Oh, that.’ The mother paused. ‘Yes, me granddad’s sister had it, made her short as anything. I hope that isn’t what Frankie’s got, poor little mite.’ She turned to shoo away the girl. ‘What can we do for him, Nurse? It’s horrible to see those what’s got the bandy legs. The other kids won’t half take the mick. I don’t want that.’

Alice had sighed. The textbook answer would be: keep him outside in the sunlight as much as possible, without putting weight on his legs. There was as much chance of that as teaching him to fly, as there was scarcely room to swing a cat between the rows of the terrace, and the back yard stank from the privy shared between all the houses. Then she should suggest improving the child’s vitamin intake with bone soups, fresh pasteurised milk and green vegetables, especially spinach. That was unlikely to happen either.

This was an occasion to resort to the authorities. Taking a deep breath, Alice plunged in. ‘In that case,’ she said, ‘I strongly recommend you take Frankie to the Infant Welfare Clinic and they will be able to refer you for assistance. He needs a special diet while there is still time. Don’t delay, but don’t despair either. We can help his bones to grow more normally, but not on what he’s eating at the moment.’

Frankie’s mother had balked at that but then she had nodded. ‘All right. I don’t hold with going to the welfare for nothing, but if it’s his only chance …’

‘It’s a very good chance,’ Alice had answered immediately, determined to drive the point home. And, she thought to herself, I’m going to contact the Sanitary Inspector for once. There’s overcrowding and filthy living conditions and then there’s this. Whoever is renting this out as a family home needs reporting.

‘Ah yes. I heard about that,’ Fiona said now. ‘Well done.’ The superintendent clasped her hands together on her desk and went on: ‘St Benedict’s are concerned about instilling good habits of hygiene in their pupils. Sadly we can’t assume that parents have the time or knowledge to teach the children as well as might be desired.’ She looked Alice directly in the eye. ‘You’ll already have noticed that the homes around here have widely different facilities available. Some have indoor bathrooms with running water. Some make do with a tin bath hung on the scullery door and an outside toilet but have running water indoors nonetheless. Some don’t even have that. As I believe you saw for yourself only the other day.’ She paused and sighed. ‘When you have a family consisting of several generations under one small roof, teaching each child how best to brush their teeth is seldom a priority. And very few of them can afford a trip to the dentist.’

‘No, I suppose not,’ said Alice.

‘That’s where we come in,’ Fiona announced. ‘Or, more precisely, you, Alice, if you are willing to take on this service.’

‘Me?’ Alice was taken aback. ‘What would I have to do? I’m not sure … I mean, I know how to clean my teeth, but I’m not an expert or anything …’

‘No, no, I’m not expecting you to be,’ Fiona said reassuringly. ‘We don’t want a stranger scaring the little ones. We want someone who is good with children and I’ve noticed that you are. Word gets around, you see. So, what they’d like you to do is go into the school and show the children how to do it, maybe one class at a time, so that you can keep a good eye on how well they’re doing. They’ll bring in their own toothbrushes – or the school might see to it quietly that they all have one. I’m going to approach a local wholesaler to ask if they can let us have toothpaste or toothpowder cheaply or even for free, as a goodwill gesture. Some families make their own toothpowder, but you can’t guarantee what’s in it half the time.’

‘I see,’ said Alice, shuddering inwardly, and realising yet again how lucky she’d been in her upbringing in this small but vital matter – always having a new toothbrush and constant supplies of proper toothpaste.

‘Excellent,’ said Fiona briskly. ‘Well, no time like the present. They’re expecting you this afternoon.’

‘This afternoon?’ Alice echoed in surprise.

‘Yes indeed. Leave it much longer and the children will be on their school holidays. We need to get good habits well ingrained before that. Of course the toothpaste won’t have arrived from the company, but you can demonstrate what to do so they know in advance.’

‘Oh,’ said Alice, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Really, there wasn’t much to say when you were swept up in Fiona’s efficient whirlwind.

‘That gives you a couple of hours to think about what you’ll say and to cycle over there. Ask for Miss Phipps. Best take your own brush with you, so you can show them exactly what you mean.’ Fiona beamed. ‘And you can tell me all about it later,’ she added, standing as she did so. The interview was evidently over.

St Benedict’s was a big Victorian building with a playground at the front, large windows overlooking the entrance and the main road beyond. Alice could hear the hum of children’s voices as she approached, swinging her legs off the boneshaker bike which she’d now got used to, and sliding it into a purpose-built bike rack to the side of the yard.

Before she could even look for a bell or doorknocker, a woman came out to greet her. ‘You must be Nurse Lake! Do come in,’ she said, in a voice Alice could easily believe would command a room of six-year-olds. ‘I’m Janet Phipps.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Alice, shaking the woman’s hand, and noting that she was older than her by a few years but not as old as Fiona. She wore horn-rimmed glasses and had a smiling, red-cheeked face, and was dressed very neatly in a slim cotton skirt and lemon twinset. She wore absolutely no jewellery, and Alice wondered if that was because it would be too easy to snag on little children’s clothing or hair.

Janet Phipps led her into the building, with its distinctive school smell, and into a classroom full of small faces all turned in curiosity towards the door. ‘Our youngest class,’ Janet explained. ‘As they go home earliest we thought it best you started with them. Now, say good afternoon to Nurse Lake.’

‘Good afternoon, Nurse Lake,’ most of them chanted, although a few looked confused, apprehensive or sullen. One little boy in an unravelling grey jumper was concentrating too hard on picking his nose to say anything, and Janet Phipps gently admonished him while bringing Alice to the front of the class.

‘Now, did we all remember to bring our toothbrushes?’ the teacher asked. ‘Here’s mine.’ She brought a red-handled one out from her skirt pocket. ‘Wave them in the air if you remembered.’

‘Please, Miss, I ain’t got one,’ said a tiny girl with fair ringlets, sitting directly in front of the boy with the unravelling jumper.

‘My gran says they’re bad for you,’ added the girl sitting beside her, with a mutinous face.

Janet Phipps shook her head. ‘Those of you who don’t have one yet, just watch and try to remember what Nurse Lake says. We’ll make sure you all have them when she comes next and you can show her what you’ve learnt. Yes, Pauline, even you. You want to have nice white teeth when you grow up, don’t you?’ Turning to Alice she muttered, ‘The child’s gran hasn’t got a tooth in her head, but that’s all right as she mostly drinks gin. However …’

Alice tried not to show her surprise, and realised that she might get on very well with Janet Phipps in the future. But now, she concentrated her attention on the job in hand. Taking out her own brush, she smiled at the classroom of young faces, and began.

‘That was harder than I thought,’ Alice confessed later, having talked to three separate classes one after the other. ‘It’s not so much showing them what to do: that’s simple and they’re keen to learn.’

‘They are at that age,’ Janet agreed. ‘Was it hearing how many of them didn’t have running water, or toothbrushes at all?’

Alice shrugged. ‘I’ve been to plenty of houses around here now, but all the same it hits you sometimes. I’ve never lived anywhere where I couldn’t simply turn on a tap for water. It makes you forget how different it is if you don’t have that.’

Janet Phipps nodded in sympathy. ‘Yes, and when the very little ones come here to begin with, sometimes we have to teach them how to wash their hands. It was good that you mentioned that today. Then they’ll know it’s not just me who goes on about how important it is.’

Alice pushed open the front door to the playground and lifted her bike from its rack. ‘I’ll make sure to say that again next week.’

Janet smiled. ‘They’ll look forward to your visit. As shall I. Maybe you’d have time for a cup of tea afterwards?’

Alice smiled back. ‘That would be lovely.’

Pushing her bike back to the main road, she decided to wheel it through the market, tempted by the thought of all the sights and smells. Summer was now here and the vegetable stalls were full of colour, with the stallholders shouting out as she went past. As the nurses had their meals together at the home, Alice didn’t need to buy anything, but her eye was caught by a cleverly arranged pile of pears, their bright skins shining in the sunlight. Suddenly she could imagine the taste of them and on impulse she went over to the stallholder. ‘Get yer vitamins here, Nurse!’ he shouted. ‘These’ll put hairs on yer chest.’

‘I hope not,’ said Alice, raising her eyebrows. ‘May I have half a dozen?’ She waited while he put them into a paper bag, and drew out her purse. She imagined how pleased Edith and Mary would be when she produced them later, and maybe she’d give one to Fiona too.

Looking up after carefully placing the bag in her wire basket, she thought she saw a familiar figure – was that Mattie in the distance, with her wild hair? But the figure moved into the shadow cast by an awning and disappeared, while Alice wasn’t close enough to call out. The sight of the young woman, whether it was Mattie or not, made Alice recall the picnic after the band concert in Victoria Park, and the way her older brother had spoken. It still rankled when she thought about it, the unfairness of it. She shook her head and reminded herself it didn’t matter. The only thing was, Edith had hinted how much she had liked Harry and it had been pretty clear he’d been attracted to her. Edith hadn’t mentioned him since but Alice knew her friend was not one to let such an opportunity pass her by.

For the second time that day, Fiona Dewar opened her office door just as Alice was passing, almost as if she’d been waiting for her. ‘How did it go?’ she asked, beckoning her in.

Alice took the same chair as before. ‘Very well, I think,’ she said, offering Fiona a pear as the superintendent returned to her desk.

‘Why, thank you. I don’t mind if I do.’ Fiona took the fruit and set it to one side for later. ‘So, do you think your visits will be of use to the children? Will you be happy to go back next week?’

Alice nodded. ‘They’re good as gold, or at least most of them are. They listened to what I said, and it will be better when they all have the brushes and toothpaste. It breaks your heart to see some of them not knowing what I’m talking about.’

‘But you didn’t show it,’ said Fiona briskly.

‘No, I wouldn’t do that. That would make them feel worse, wouldn’t it.’ It came out as a statement, not a question.

‘Quite right,’ the superintendent agreed. ‘We are here to help alleviate the difficulties of poverty in whatever practical ways we can, not to blame our patients for it, above all not the children. They can’t help which households they are born into. I’m glad to hear it was a success. It might be that it will be important to have close bonds with local schools in the near future.’

Alice raised her eyebrows but wasn’t sure what lay behind the superintendent’s words.

Fiona realised her hint had not hit its mark. ‘I hear you are a keen reader of the newspapers, Alice,’ she said. ‘That can only mean you are fully aware of the storm that is about to break very soon. You will have seen the preparations taking place already, with the trenches dug around all municipal open spaces and the factories changing use. I wish it were not so, but I see no point in burying our heads in the sand.’

‘You mean war,’ said Alice flatly. The words fell like lead.

‘Indeed.’ Fiona took a sharp inward breath. ‘Best to be prepared, as far as that is possible. There are plans in place to get children away from the most obvious points of attack, and it’s fair to say we are living slap-bang in the middle of one of them. We don’t have the details yet but, if it comes to it, it will be far better for them to be seen off by a friendly face than an anonymous stranger. That will help them leave in less distress and settle more quickly wherever they are sent.’ Her eyes fell to her desk. ‘Anyway, that’s the theory. We shall see. And it might not come to that. We can always hope.’

‘But you don’t seriously think war can be averted?’ Alice asked her.

Fiona looked up again. ‘Quite honestly, no. So, Nurse Lake, please get to know those children over the next few weeks, and make sure they think of you as a figure of authority they can trust. Yes, it’s important that you teach them the rudiments of personal hygiene. But in fact, you will be doing far more than that. When it comes to separating a child from its parent, it will make all the difference if there is somebody in charge whom they recognise. We should not fool ourselves. This could happen very soon. So, time is of the essence.’

Alice sank down on her bed in a confusion of emotions. The conversation had hit her hard. As the superintendent had pointed out, she knew from the papers, from local gossip and the evidence of her own eyes what was probably waiting around the corner, but to hear it spoken aloud by someone she trusted made it all too real. Part of her wanted to run away and hide somewhere, but she was conscious of the extra responsibility Fiona had just placed upon her. The superintendent thought she was worthy of such a task, should it come to it. That left her with little choice; she had to be ready to step up to the mark. If the children were going to be separated from their homes and loved ones, they had to suffer as little as possible – there was no question about that.

And how would the war affect her family, and all the people she had grown up with or met while training? Despite herself, her mind flicked to the one place she tried so hard to stop it from going. To the place where she held the memory of the young doctor who had once meant so much to her: Mark. The man she’d loved so fiercely, and who she had fervently believed had loved her back with equal passion. The man who had sworn they would never be parted, whatever life had in store; that they’d be together through thick and thin. What would he have said if he was here now, sharing her dilemma and sense of imminent danger? But he would never share anything with her again. He was lost to her and she had to bear it, somehow. Of her current circle, only Edith knew. Well, her parents did of course – and she knew they quietly thought she should forget him and move on in her life. She couldn’t bear that either.

There was a knock on the door and Edith burst in. ‘Thought I heard you come back. How did it go? Are you off duty now? I’ve just done my last call of the day. A poor old lady down Boleyn Road needed her dressing changed. She would have kept me chatting all day but I couldn’t take her last biscuits, it wouldn’t have been right.’

‘Have a pear instead.’ Alice opened the paper bag.

‘Oooh, I knew it would be worth dropping in,’ said Edith, snatching one quickly. ‘Now guess what my news is.’

Alice rolled her eyes. ‘No idea.’

‘Well, now.’ Edith settled herself on her friend’s bed, looking pleased with herself. ‘Remember those brothers from the park?’

‘From the picnic, you mean?’

‘Of course, do we know any others? Yes, from the day of the band concert. You know the one in the green shirt, the handsome one with the deep brown eyes?’

‘I remember the shirt. Can’t say I noticed his eyes.’

‘I did. Anyway, he’s only gone and asked me to go to the pictures with him.’

Alice sat up straight. ‘Has he? How did he do that?’

Edith looked a little sheepish. ‘He came round here with a message for me.’

Alice gasped. ‘He shouldn’t do that. You’re only meant to leave messages if you need the attentions of a nurse.’

‘Seems he does,’ said Edith with a wicked grin. ‘Anyway it was all right, it was Mary who opened the door, and of course she recognised him. Actually I think she’s a bit miffed he asked me and not her. But she’ll get over it.’

‘What did you say?’ demanded Alice.

Edith gave her a straight look. ‘I said yes, of course.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Edith talked about nothing else for the rest of the week. Alice wondered if she even noticed what her patients said to her; when Alice asked her how the old lady on Boleyn Road was coming along after several repeat visits, Edith simply shrugged and said ‘all right’. When a postman fell off his bike and Edith was first on the scene, she barely commented on it, despite it being the most exciting thing to happen for ages. They’d had to draw the details out of her one by one.

‘Where’s he taking you?’ Mary asked, excited for her friend and gamely putting aside her envy at not being picked. It was Friday morning and they were eating breakfast.

‘He didn’t say. But if he gives me the choice, I’m going to suggest Jamaica Inn. It’s meant to be all moody and romantic. It’s on at that new Odeon on Hackney Road, so we won’t even have too far to go. He could walk me home,’ Edith said dreamily.

‘Sounds as if you’ve got it all planned,’ said Alice. It wasn’t that she begrudged her friend an evening out, but since it had been the sole topic of conversation for days she was getting fed up.

‘Oh, don’t be like that, Al. I bet you’ve wanted to see that film as much as I have. Shall I ask him if his brother wants to come along and we could make a four?’

Alice tightened her jaw. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘No, can’t say I blame you,’ said Mary. ‘He was a bit serious, wasn’t he? And not as good-looking either.’

‘Right, I won’t bother then,’ Edith told her friend. ‘Don’t say I never do anything for you, though. What do you think I should wear?’

‘How about that flowery skirt you wore to the picnic?’ asked Mary, buttering her toast. ‘Pass the marmalade, Alice, would you?’

‘Oh no, I couldn’t do that. It will have to be something different,’ Edith insisted. ‘What about my blouse with the puff sleeves, Alice? You know, I got it cheap late last summer in the sales, then it got too cold to wear it.’

‘Perfect,’ said Alice. ‘And you’ve got those sandals in cherry red that will go with its pattern. It was meant to be.’

‘Yes, that’ll be just right.’ Edith all but hugged herself in anticipation. ‘Only today’s shift and then it’ll be time to see him. I can’t wait.’ She took a spoonful of porridge and ate it slowly.

‘Aren’t you going to finish that?’ Mary demanded, always on the alert for any extra food. ‘Cos if you aren’t …’

‘You have it, I’ve got butterflies in my tummy already,’ said Edith, getting up and sliding her chair back under the table. ‘Right, I’ll see you two later before I go.’

‘That’s if there aren’t any last-minute emergencies,’ said Mary cheerfully, digging into the porridge, but Edith was already halfway across the room.

‘Right, that’s it, that’s me finished for the day.’ Alice slung her Gladstone bag down by the table in the dining area. ‘I’m parched. I was so busy all day I hardly had time for a cup of tea.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Edith offered. ‘Then I’ll be off. I was lucky, my last visit was terribly quick. A toddler had burnt himself but the grannie was so fast at getting his arm under running water that I barely had to do anything. She and the kiddie’s mother knew exactly what was for the best. She was getting ready to bathe his arm with tea – that’s said to help you know; all that tannin in it.’

Alice reached for a cup. ‘Funny, isn’t it, how some families are so well equipped and others have nothing.’ She thought for the umpteenth time of Kathleen Berry, in many ways so alone, and all the children of St Benedict’s with no running water in their homes. Little Frankie, with hardly any light. ‘That blouse looks good on you, Edith. And with those sandals too.’

‘I’m pleased it still fits.’ Edith primped her hair in the reflection of the window. ‘I’m going to bring my white bolero in case it turns cold later.’

‘Good idea,’ Alice began, but was cut short when Gladys came in, her expression an agonised mixture of shyness and urgency.

‘Please, Miss. Nurse Gillespie. They need yer.’

Edith gasped in alarm. ‘Me? Are you sure it’s me they need? I’ve done my shift, Gladys, there’s been a mistake.’

‘No, Miss.’ Gladys twisted her hands. ‘It’s that postman what you saw before, he’s been took bad again, and they said you was to go cos you knew him and what happened.’

Edith could have stamped her foot in frustration. ‘Not tonight, why did it have to be tonight? Harry will turn up and you or Mary will have to say I couldn’t make it. Then he’ll get all cross and he might even take Mary instead – I could tell he liked her, just not as much as me …’

Alice took her friend by the shoulders. ‘Don’t be silly. I’ll go. You told me all about the accident. He’s probably tried to do too much too soon. Just give me the address and I’ll go. There won’t be much they can say about it if I simply turn up instead of you.’

Edith looked up at her friend in relief. ‘Would you really, Alice? But you’re exhausted, you said so.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Alice, reaching once more for her leather bag. ‘I’ve had half a cup of tea, and if it’s close by, it most likely won’t take long. You go on, then we can say you’d already left before the message came. As long as he sees someone, it won’t matter which nurse it is. Sorry, Gladys, that’s a bit confusing, isn’t it? But I’m happy to go. I’ll be off now.’

‘Suppose so, Miss. Nurse Lake,’ said Gladys dubiously, her lank hair almost covering her eyes.

Edith impulsively hugged her friend. ‘I owe you for this.’

‘You do,’ said Alice. ‘Have a lovely evening, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

The house was easy enough to find, and Alice reckoned it was almost exactly halfway between St Benedict’s and Jeeves Place. The door was open, and she propped her bike up on the tiny strip of paving stones serving as a front garden, before knocking and going inside. Her uniform made her instantly recognisable, and the woman leaning over the sofa in the tiny parlour stood up to give her room.

‘Thank you for coming, Nurse. We’re mighty glad to see you. I’m his next-door neighbour, and I heard Ernie cry out. I come round at once and found him here like this.’ The woman in the faded print apron wiped her hands nervously on her sleeves. ‘Will he be all right, Nurse?’

Alice moved closer to the man on the sofa. ‘Mr Leagrave? Ernest, may I call you that? I’m Nurse Lake. I’m a colleague of Nurse Gillespie and she’s told me all about you.’ She spoke quietly and firmly, to reassure him and also to judge his reactions. Was he alert or confused? She dreaded that he’d developed concussion from the accident.

Ernest Leagrave slowly moved his head round so he could see her properly. He was half lying, half sitting, propped against a pair of worn cushions. ‘You ain’t the one what looked after me before,’ he said, and though his voice was querulous there was no trace of confusion there.

‘No, I’m not. She’d finished her shift. I trained with her so I’m qualified to look after you just the same.’ Alice gave him a broad, steady smile. ‘Why don’t you tell me about what happened today?’ She noticed a footstool with a woven wicker top and drew it closer so that she could sit on it and look into his eyes on the same level.

‘I just took a funny turn. I said to my wife, you go and see yer sister like you was going to before I had my bit of trouble. Ain’t no need for you to stay home and look after me. Then I thought as I might as well go to work cos I was feeling so much better – but I had a funny turn. Me neighbour come in and help me and then sent for you.’ He fell back against the cushion as if worn out.

Alice took his pulse and temperature, and assessed his breathing, then leant back. ‘What did the doctor say after you had your accident?’ she asked.

‘Oh, doctors.’ The man, who was probably in his fifties, gave a snort of contempt. ‘Nobody would ever get anything done if they was to listen to doctors. Stay in bed, take it easy, all that rubbish. I don’t pay no attention to them.’

Alice noticed the neighbour moving towards the door, mouthing, ‘I’ll be next door if you need me’, clearly eager to get back to her own business. Alice was glad – that meant there would be no one to witness the telling off she felt obliged to give her patient.

‘Now, Mr Leagrave,’ she began, quietly but firmly, aware that here was a man of definite opinions. The problem was, if he kept to them, he’d be putting himself in danger. Gently but insistently, she explained this to him. ‘The doctor didn’t advise you to rest because he couldn’t think of anything else,’ she finished. ‘He said it because it was what you need to do. And now, look what happens when you go against that. So you had better promise me you’ll rest like he told you.’

Ernest Leagrave looked too worn out to argue, but nodded. ‘Yes, Nurse. I see that now.’

‘Good.’ Alice sat back. ‘Rest really is the best medicine. Then you’ll be able to return to work sure as eggs is eggs.’

‘That’s what I want, Nurse. I hate sitting around on my arse doing nothing,’ Ernest confessed. ‘I never was one for doing nothing. Just ask anyone who knows me.’ He nodded to a shape behind him, and Alice realised someone else had come into the room, so quietly she hadn’t heard them. ‘Here’s my colleague from the GPO, he’ll tell you. Isn’t that right, Joe?’

‘Oh, I don’t doubt it,’ said Alice comfortingly, and then did a double take when she saw who the newcomer was, recognising Joe Banham, the man who’d treated her curtly when she’d met him at Victoria Park with Edith. She swallowed hard. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Banham. I didn’t realise you’d come in.’ She stood. ‘I was just leaving.’

‘I’ve been here for a few minutes, you seemed engrossed in your work and I didn’t want to interrupt.’

Alice was flummoxed knowing that Joe had been quietly watching her while she treated his friend. There was a smile in his eyes that she didn’t remember from their last meeting.

‘What about payment, Nurse? I want things done proper,’ Ernest insisted.

Alice waved his suggestion aside. ‘No, no, Mr Leagrave. You pay into the scheme and, besides, I haven’t done anything except talk.’

‘Made me feel a good deal better though, Miss,’ he said stoutly. ‘You’re a tonic to behold, you are. You and that friend of yours, you tell her thanks again from me.’

‘I will, thank you,’ Alice said, picking up her bag and making for the door, avoiding eye contact with Ernest’s visitor.

‘I’ll see you out, Miss Lake,’ said Joe Banham. ‘Give me one moment, Ernie, and I’ll be back.’ He slipped out behind Alice as she went through the front door and into the narrow ribbon of a garden.

‘Really, there’s no need,’ she said. ‘You go and see your friend. Just don’t tire him out or let him do too much – that’s what’s brought him to this state to begin with.’ She spoke with more asperity than she’d intended, but somehow this man got under her skin. Especially as there wasn’t much room in this tiny garden.

‘I know,’ Joe said, and there was no disapproval in his voice this time. ‘I heard what you said to him just now. I wanted to thank you for being so straightforward – Ernie’s a good bloke but stubborn as they come.’ He paused, then gave a half-laugh. ‘I think I owe you an apology, Miss Lake.’

‘Really, Mr Banham?’ She raised an eyebrow, turning to face him full on.

He nodded. ‘Here am I doing the very thing I blamed my sister for, talking about a friend behind their back. So I’m sorry. I can see how good you are with patients now. I got the wrong idea before. Just being over-protective, that’s all. Kathleen’s been unlucky.’

Alice didn’t know what to say for a moment, it was so unexpected – first to bump into the man again and then to hear this. ‘Well, thank you,’ she managed, trying to put aside the quiet fury she had felt at the time. ‘I’m only doing what is best for the patients – I’d never do anything else. It’s not gossip if you’re telling me something that will help them.’

‘No, I understand now.’ He straightened. ‘Anyway, I hear my brother is taking your friend to the pictures this evening.’

‘So I believe,’ said Alice, not wanting to get drawn in. She still wasn’t sure if she could trust him.

‘Jamaica Inn, possibly,’ Joe went on.

‘Possibly.’ Alice couldn’t see what business it was of his. ‘Personally I think I’d prefer the book.’

‘Yes, you can’t beat a good book,’ Joe agreed, his eyes lighting up.

Despite herself, Alice responded. ‘Exactly.’

‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘I’m a member of the Billet Library in Upper Clapton. Shall I see if they’ve got it? That’s if you haven’t read it?’

Alice was taken aback both by the turn of the conversation and the offer, but couldn’t see how to say no and not sound rude. What harm could it do to accept? Perhaps she had been wrong about the man. He’d admitted it, so she should be able to acknowledge it as well. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘That would be kind. I haven’t read it yet.’

‘You should join the library if you like books,’ he went on, warming to his theme. ‘It’s a subscription one but it gets all the latest titles. If you’re interested, that is. It’s not far, you could cycle there.’ He looked dubiously at the boneshaker.

‘I might,’ said Alice, not wanting to commit to anything. ‘If I have time.’

‘Oh, of course.’ Joe seemed to take that as a dismissal. ‘Well, I’d better be getting back to Ernie. See if he needs anything. Goodbye, Miss Lake.’

Alice began to push her bike, aware of a strange feeling as she squeezed past him in the narrow space. ‘Thanks again.’ She looked at him as he turned to go. He had very deep brown eyes. She remembered the anger he had provoked, how intense it had seemed, and still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. ‘Goodbye, Mr Banham.’

‘Alice! Alice! Are you awake?’

Edith crept into her friend’s room, guided by the light of the streetlamp outside.

‘What? What’s happened?’ Alice woke up in confusion. ‘Edie, is that you? Is something wrong? Whatever time is it?’

‘Yes, it’s me. Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry,’ hissed Edith, skirting around the question of what time it was. ‘I just got back. Sorry, did I wake you? I thought you might still be up reading or something.’

‘No, but it doesn’t matter.’ Alice rolled over and sat up, rubbing her eyes. ‘How did it go?’

Edith sat down on the bed in front of her friend. There was enough light for Alice to see how animated she was. ‘It was lovely. It was the best evening I’ve had for ages. Much better than dancing at the Paramount. He’s really nice, Alice, really nice.’

‘Good,’ said Alice, who was used to Edith’s conquests. Even so, it was unlike her to be so enthusiastic quite so soon. ‘So what did you do?’

‘He met me at the bus stop and we went to the cinema. He bought me an ice cream. He was a proper gent while the film was on, didn’t try anything on or nothing.’

‘What was the film like?’

‘Oh, it was scary, a girl gets trapped in a remote inn full of smugglers—’

‘Don’t tell me the whole plot, I might read the book soon,’ Alice interrupted.

‘All right, keep your hair on. You did ask. Anyway it was a great yarn, you’d like it. It was romantic, too, but I shan’t tell you why or it’ll spoil it. He did hold my hand a bit at the end.’

‘The film must have finished ages ago,’ Alice said. ‘What happened then?’

‘We went for fish and chips. He bought them, he’s very generous. Then we went to the pub to meet some of his friends.’

‘Edie, have you been drinking?’ Alice was wide awake now. ‘With someone you hardly know?’

Edith shifted a little. ‘Don’t worry, I only had lemonade. I’m not daft. He introduced me to his friends and they all seemed to like me. He’s a boxer, you know.’

‘A boxer?’

‘Yes, just amateur for now, but he thinks he’s going to make it big.’ Edith nodded. ‘Imagine! He could be famous. He’s already been in the local paper. This is just the start, he says.’

‘Goodness.’ Alice didn’t know much about boxing and wasn’t sure what to say. It sounded like a dangerous hobby.

‘Then he walked me all the way home. We couldn’t stop talking. You know sometimes you run out of things to say to someone – well, it wasn’t like that at all. You’d like him, Al. He knows lots of stuff.’

‘Maybe,’ said Alice.

‘I said we’d meet him, you and me and Mary, and he’ll bring along his friends.’

‘I don’t know …’

‘Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Al. You’d have fun. You can’t hide away with your books for the rest of your life. Not after Mark and everything …’

Alice pushed back her hair behind her ears. ‘I’m not hiding away. I just like a nice night in with my books. We’ll see. I’m sure Mary will go out with you. Anyway, how did you get back in? Isn’t it after curfew? Oh, Edie, not again!’

Edith shook her dark curls. ‘No, no, it’s fine – I was just in time. About thirty seconds to go, I reckon. I was very careful. Even so, I crept along so I wouldn’t wake Gwen or Fiona. So it’s all turned out fine.’

‘You were lucky though.’

‘That’s me,’ said Edith confidently. ‘Look, I’ll leave you to sleep.’

‘Don’t you want to know about your patient, the postman?’ Alice wondered.

‘Tell me tomorrow. Night night.’ Edith slipped out of the room as quietly as she’d come in.

Alice was left to try to get back to sleep, noting that Edith hadn’t asked what sort of evening she’d had. But then, she hadn’t tried to tell her. Maybe she should have mentioned meeting Joe, and his offer to find her the book. Then again, perhaps she’d keep that to herself for the time being. It was hardly the same thing. And she couldn’t quite explain the sensation that thinking of him gave her – no longer anger, or righteous indignation, but something not quite describable either.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kathleen woke with a start and for a moment couldn’t work out what the noise was. She tried to make out the time on her battered old enamel alarm clock, but it was barely dawn and still too dark to see. The banging was coming from the front door. Still foggy from sleep, she swung her legs out of bed and pushed her feet into her well-worn slippers. She had to stop the banging before it woke Brian. He’d taken ages to get off last night and an early wake-up was the last thing he needed.

‘Kathleen! Open up!’ came a voice.

For a moment she was seized with terror. Last week a man had come to the door, banging on it just like this. It had been in the middle of the morning, as she was thinking about going to the market to see if there were any bargains; perhaps some rolls at the bakery left over from the day before that would be all right for toast. The man’s voice had been aggressive and she had instinctively ducked out of sight in case he tried to look through the window. Most people would have given up after a minute, assuming nobody was in, but this man had just kept on, then shouted, ‘I know you’re in there’ very loudly, enough to annoy the Coynes upstairs.

Mrs Coyne had come to the window. ‘What’s all the bleedin’ fuss about?’ she had demanded.

‘Where’s your neighbour?’ the man had shouted back.

‘How the hell should I know? I’m not her bleedin’ keeper, am I?’

There had been the sounds of shuffling feet as the man had indeed gone to peer through the window. Kathleen had crouched, trembling, against the wall beside the bed, praying the noise wouldn’t wake Brian.

‘Well, you tell her next time you see her that she’s behind with the rent and the landlord won’t stand for it. She’s got a week to make up the shortfall or she’s out,’ the man roared up at Mrs Coyne.

‘Tell her yerself, I ain’t doin’ your dirty work.’ She had slammed the window.

Kathleen had sent up a prayer of thanks. Usually the Coynes were the first to complain if she made too much noise or left baby clothes dripping for too long outside, but they didn’t like the landlord any more than she did.

A minute or so later, an envelope fluttered through her letterbox, addressed to her in an angry scrawl. Then there had been the sound of retreating footsteps. She had waited a further ten minutes before she felt safe to move to retrieve it. With shaking hands she tore it open, to find what she had feared: a demand to pay her rent arrears in full by this time next week or she’d be evicted. She had no way to find that amount of money. She could barely afford stale bread.

Dismayed, she’d forced herself up and made a cup of weak tea before collapsing at the little table. She knew she had to think, to plan, but no ideas came. Short of a miracle, or Ray sending some money, which was even more unlikely, she was done for.

She had no idea how long she had sat there like that, when there came another tap at the door, this time followed by a familiar voice, a friendly one.

‘Kath, you in?’

Kathleen sighed in relief and went to open the door. It was her old school friend, Billy Reilly. He worked down at the docks and occasionally did early or late shifts so he was free in the daytime. Now and again he would drop by, just for old times’ sake. She always loved to see him as he seemed to know what to say to cheer her up.

‘All right, Kath? How’s the nipper?’ Billy came in and then took in the expression on her face. ‘Kath, what’s up? You look like you seen a ghost.’

Kathleen hurriedly shoved the envelope in her patch pocket and ran her other hand through her hair, trying to appear normal. ‘Nothing, Billy. Nothing at all. How are you? Care for a cuppa?’ She spoke as brightly as she could. There was no way on this earth that she would admit to anyone how much money she owed. She went through to the tiny back kitchen to boil the kettle, gritting her teeth with the effort of not showing her despair.

Billy had always been kind to her at school, although they hadn’t known each other very well as he was in the year above her. He’d stayed friends with the Banhams, which meant she saw more of him, and they’d become friendlier. Then she’d met Ray, and everything else had taken second place.

She recalled one incident when she and Ray had been courting for a few months and he’d agreed to go to the pub with her old friends. Afterwards he’d been strangely quiet, his face tight with suppressed emotion. Finally she could bear it no more and asked what was wrong.

‘What’s the story between you and Billy?’ he had demanded.

She’d been taken totally by surprise. ‘Nothing. There’s no story. We was at school together, just like the rest of them.’

Ray had huffed in disbelief. ‘I don’t like the way he looks at you. You been leading him on or something?’

‘What? Billy? He’s a mate, nothing more,’ she had protested, sensing a side to Ray she hadn’t seen before. She’d known he could be very protective. But she hadn’t realised he could be jealous.

‘You make sure that’s all it is,’ he had snarled, gripping her arm and lowering his face close to hers, and for a moment she thought he was going to turn on her. Then he had smiled his usual charming smile and the dark moment passed. ‘There’s only one man for you, Kath, and that’s me. You don’t need no other,’ he had said, slinging his arm around her shoulder, and she had looked up at him and smiled back in delight, because she believed he would look after her and love her.

She shook her head. That had been a long time ago now.

The familiar ritual of making a pot of tea had calmed her, and by the time she’d brought it through to Billy, her hands were steady again.

He’d stayed for a while to make small talk, producing a little rattle he’d picked up ‘for next to nothing’ and waving it at a now fully awake Brian, who had waved his arms back. Kathleen had beamed in pleasure, watching another stage of her baby learning how to reach for an object, loving his big smile.

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