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Christmas for the District Nurses
Annie Groves
A dramatic and heart-warming new novel set in the Blitz, from the bestselling author Annie Groves. The East End of London has been devastated by the Blitz and the people are struggling to come to terms with their ravaged city. Rationing bites ever deeper and and everything that makes life better is in short supply. For the district nurses, the challenges are tougher than ever. Gladys loves her work in the Civil Nursing Reserve, but just when she needs to rely on her sister at home to help out with the chores, she turns into a handful of trouble. Edith is learning to cope with her boyfriend's injuries after Dunkirk but will she have to choose between her love for him and her career? With no end in sight, the war reaches its darkest moment … Can the nurses – and the families and patients that rely on them – find the strength to carry on?
CHRISTMAS FOR THE DISTRICT NURSES
Annie Groves
Copyright (#ue03ff779-875f-50d0-935a-49e3bf678610)
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
Copyright © Annie Groves 2019
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
Cover photographs © Jonathan Ring (models), Lebrecht Music & Arts / Alamy Stock Photo (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: 9780008272272
Ebook Edition © April 2019 ISBN: 9780008272289
Version: 2019-10-04
Dedication (#ue03ff779-875f-50d0-935a-49e3bf678610)
Heartfelt thanks to Teresa Chris, Kate Bradley and Penny Isaac, without whom the stories of the district nurses would never have been told.
Contents
Cover (#udb94f6dc-60d3-5a66-a0bd-cbfbf4b9e524)
Title Page (#ue1dfdfb4-ffb6-5d55-9959-5f9f2ef880ab)
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
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Keep Reading …
About Annie Groves
Also by Annie Groves
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE (#ue03ff779-875f-50d0-935a-49e3bf678610)
December 1941
‘I don’t see why I have to do it. Why can’t you?’
Gladys shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew that there would be no point in getting angry with her younger sister. That never achieved anything. ‘Because I’m on duty this evening,’ she said calmly.
Evelyn threw up her hands, groaning theatrically. ‘Of course you are. You’re always on bleeding duty. Proper saint, you are. How did they ever manage without you?’
Gladys took the two steps necessary to cross their tiny kitchen and reached for her gabardine coat that hung on the back door. She still hadn’t grown out of the thrill of putting it on, of having her own uniform. She’d waited long enough to be able to join the Civil Nursing Reserve. She was damned if she was going to let her sister make a drama out of nothing, yet again. ‘What’s so important that you can’t make a bit of stew?’ she asked.
Evelyn scowled. ‘I was going to do my hair.’
Gladys laughed. ‘Do what to it? Didn’t you just do it?’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand,’ Evelyn snapped meanly. ‘It’s not as if you ever took any trouble with yours. Look at it, just hanging down straight, all flat and horrible.’
Gladys shrugged, pulling on her heavy coat. She knew her mousy-brown hair was lank but she was far too busy to spend hours curling it in papers or hunting down bleach or whatever smelly substance it was that Evelyn used to lighten her carefully coiffured locks. ‘Not much point when it’s mostly hidden by my cap,’ she pointed out.
‘Exactly.’ Evelyn pouted. ‘You’re always down that blasted first-aid post, when you aren’t running round after those district nurses in their precious home. You never have no time for us no more. I have to do everything and it’s not fair.’
‘Not fair?’ Gladys couldn’t bite back her instinctive response. ‘I tell you what’s not fair. Having to miss nearly all my schooling cos Ma couldn’t cope with all seven of us. Working my fingers to the bone for you lot when I was only a kid myself. Only learning to read when I started work at the nurses’ home. Even that was just good luck in that two of them made time to teach me. Now, when I finally get a chance to do nursing like what I’ve always wanted, you still expect me to cook for you first, so you don’t have to give up an evening doing your hair.’
Evelyn wasn’t impressed. ‘Oh, not that again. Poor old Gladys. You’d have hated school anyway – I know I did. So count yourself lucky.’
‘Pity you didn’t make the most of what chances you had,’ Gladys said, taking out a pair of navy gloves from her coat pocket.
‘I don’t need school learning for what I’m going to do.’ Evelyn’s eyes flashed boldly.
Gladys paused. This was new. ‘What do you mean?’
Evelyn folded her arms in defiance. ‘I’m going to go on the stage.’
Gladys stood still and stared. ‘You’re going to what?’
‘Go on stage.’ Evelyn sounded more defensive now. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Glad. I’ve got a good voice, I have, and I’m going to be famous like those film stars. I could be the next Vivien Leigh.’
‘Your hair’s the wrong colour,’ Gladys pointed out. Typical, she thought. She herself had a good voice, and it wasn’t being boastful to think so, because one of the district nurses who was really musical had told her so. But she wasn’t daft enough to imagine she could go on stage with it. A few carols around the home’s piano were enough for her. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to go. There’s a bit of lamb on the cool shelf in the larder and potatoes under the sink. Make sure they all wash their hands before they eat. Oh, and by the way,’ she halted briefly before stepping out into the cold of the December evening, ‘you might have to wait before you start your stage career. The government’s just brought out a law saying that every woman who’s not married between twenty and thirty has to sign up for war work. I don’t think they count singing.’
Evelyn snorted. ‘You’re just jealous. I’m not twenty yet, anyhow.’
‘Not far off, though,’ Gladys shot back. ‘You’ve got, what, about eighteen months to become a star, then you’ll have to sign up for the Land Army or whatever.’
‘Never! I’ll break my nails.’ Evelyn looked aghast. ‘But I tell you what, I shan’t ever do what you do. I think it’s disgusting, all that blood and all. You don’t know who half those people are or anything.’
Gladys smiled, unmoved by her sister’s final comment. She carried on smiling as she made her way along the back lane and headed towards the first-aid post, which was in the nearby church hall. She didn’t care what anybody else thought. She had believed that nursing was beyond her wildest dreams and yet here she was, about to start a shift in a job she loved. It didn’t matter that she’d already done a day’s work, cleaning and cooking at the nurses’ home. She truly could not think of a better way to spend her evening.
‘You awake, Billy?’ Kathleen turned over on the narrow mattress and shook the shoulder of the man lying next to her. ‘It’s nearly time for your shift.’
Billy groaned. ‘Just two minutes’ more kip, Kath.’ He stretched, his feet pressing against the cold wall of the small room. He’d often wished he was taller, but now he realised his average height was a blessing. He wouldn’t have fitted into Kathleen’s bed otherwise. Strictly speaking he shouldn’t have been there at all.
‘It’s no good, Billy. I can’t hold back the clock. Shall I make us a cup of tea while you get ready?’ Kathleen was half out of the bed but he pulled her down to him again and stopped her.
‘Let’s wait a bit. Let’s have a cuddle, warm me up before I have to go out.’ He smiled up at her, scarcely able to credit his good fortune. Here they were, together at last. It wasn’t exactly as he had imagined it, squeezed into a tiny bedsit instead of their own home, but he didn’t care. As long as he had Kath with him, he could move mountains.
She sighed. ‘Not long now and we’ll have a proper big bed.’
‘That day can’t come soon enough,’ Billy agreed, moving his feet so they didn’t touch the freezing wall. ‘We’ll deserve it an’ all. Lord knows we’re due a bit of comfort, you and me.’
Kathleen hugged him, pressing her face into his dark hair, cut short but still with a bit of curl to it. She still had to pinch herself sometimes. Despite the disappointment of having to postpone their wedding, she counted herself lucky to be in his arms. She didn’t care about the poky room. She had never known much better, and soon they would have their own home, a real house with a separate bedroom for her little boy, and their own yard out the back which they wouldn’t have to share with anyone.
She shifted slightly, careful not to make too much noise. Her landlady lived downstairs and didn’t approve of Billy coming to visit, although she generally turned a blind eye. Sometimes Kathleen felt guilty that they had pre-empted their wedding vows. But after the horror of what had happened, she couldn’t bear the thought of never having had Billy in her arms, not knowing his love. Life could be snuffed out at any moment.
For years she had lived in a small downstairs flat on a side street in Dalston. She had moved in when she’d married her first husband, Ray, full of hope for the future. That had soon vanished when she realised what sort of man he was – mean, unreliable, violent. She’d been blinded by his good looks, although everyone had warned her. She hadn’t listened. The only good thing to come out of the marriage was her boy, Brian, who would be three in the new year. Now Ray was dead, killed down at the docks where he’d been trying to cash in on the black market.
Kathleen had tried to show some respect for him; he was her son’s father and she wanted to do the right thing. However, she had been harbouring her secret love for Billy ever since the scales had fallen from her eyes about Ray. They had been at school together and, once Ray had disappeared, supposedly to find work, she would never have managed if it hadn’t been for Billy helping her out, along with their good friends around the corner, the Banham family.
