The Nurse's War. Merryn Allingham

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      She came bustling up at that moment and grabbed Daisy’s hand, dragging her into the sitting room used by the permanent staff at Hill End. A few nurses were lolling in one or two of the shabby chairs dotted around the room, or flicking idly through a pile of dog-eared magazines while they carried on a desultory conversation. Her friend steered her into the quietest corner.

      ‘Now, Driscoll, what’s up?’ Hazy green eyes, wide with curiosity, fixed her to the spot.

      ‘Nothing, nothing at all.’ She did her best to look unconcerned.

      ‘That’s rubbish. Something is definitely wrong. I’ve been watching you since we got here and you’re not yourself. Now tell me what’s happened.’

      Daisy reached up and unpinned her cap, shaking out the dark waves as though to free herself of constraint. She stabbed a hatpin through the starched white material. ‘I can’t,’ she said at length. ‘It’s too complicated.’

      ‘Don’t I know that? Everything to do with you is complicated. Whereas me, I’m an open book.’

      Connie’s grin elicited a smile. Daisy could never feel downhearted when she was with her. The girl was chockfull of cheerful common sense and practical to her fingertips. She’d had to be, of course. As the eldest sibling in a crowded Dorset cottage, she’d borne the brunt of her mother’s frequent pregnancies and her father’s forbidding temper. Her sweet nature, though, had gone unvalued and, despite a large family, she appeared to be as lonely as Daisy. It was telling that she’d chosen not to train in Dorchester but to move miles away to the big city. It was probably that solitariness, Daisy mused, that had drawn them together in the first place. But by now they’d become the firmest of friends, confidantes in the daily struggle of nursing through a war.

      ‘It’s complicated because it doesn’t just concern me.’

      ‘So who else? Who else do you know?’

      Her friend wasn’t giving up, it seemed, and she longed to confide in her. It would be good to share the burden, but it would also be grossly unfair. Gerald had committed a crime and she must be careful not implicate Connie by confessing the trouble she was in.

      She felt her hand squeezed and her friend’s voice, low and encouraging. ‘You know that whatever you tell me, I can keep my mouth shut. Who is worrying you so badly?’

      Perhaps if she said only a little? She’d already told Connie more than she’d ever thought possible, and months ago had abandoned her ingrained reserve to confide that she’d once been married. Connie was the only one she’d ever told about Gerald.

      She took a deep breath and met her friend’s eyes. ‘It’s my husband.’

      The girl’s mouth fell open and it was a while before she could speak. ‘But he’s dead.’

      ‘That’s the problem. It turns out that he isn’t. And he’s managed to trace me—it doesn’t matter how—but he followed me back to the Home last night. I think I’m still in shock.’

      ‘But how can it be him?’ Connie was floundering. ‘You saw him drown.’ The phrase was blunt and to the point. And it was true, she had seen him drown, or so she’d always thought.

      ‘He didn’t. His clothes were caught up on one of the floats. You remember, I told you we were at a festival called Teej and there were all these stupendous floats with huge gods and goddesses that were launched into the river. I guess most of them were smashed to pieces when the monsoon broke—the river turned into this raging torrent—but there was enough left of one apparently for Gerald to catch hold of and survive. He was rescued further downstream.’

      ‘And then?’ Her companion edged forward.

      ‘I have no idea. How he got to England is a mystery.’

      Connie gave a soft whoop. ‘That’s quite a story. Romantic too. Your husband has travelled thousands of miles to claim his wife. You told me things were bad between you before he died, but maybe this is a turning point.’

      ‘Unlikely. He’s come back because he has nowhere else to go. And he’s come to me only because he needs help. But there’s no way I can help him, and he won’t believe me.’

      Her friend wrinkled her forehead, the freckles almost joining each other in puzzlement. ‘What kind of help does he want?’

      She took some time to answer, weighing up how much she should say, how much she dare tell even a close friend. It would not make a good hearing and it might make a dangerous one. But Connie was right when she said she could keep her mouth shut. It was a quality that was necessary, Daisy guessed, living amid a large, raucous family.

      ‘I’ve never said anything before,’ she said slowly, ‘but Gerald was involved in some wicked things in India. He died trying to rescue me from a dangerous gang.’ She saw Connie’s bewildered expression. ‘I told you it was complicated.’

      ‘A dangerous gang? What on earth did you get yourself involved in?’

      ‘I made a discovery that I shouldn’t have. Something that could have hung every member of the gang. And they knew I knew, so I had to die.’

      ‘My God, Daisy!’

      ‘Gerald found the place they were holding me. He put up a fight and that messed up their plans. It gave the police sufficient time to get to me.’

      ‘It might not be exactly romantic but—’

      ‘He wasn’t innocent,’ Daisy said quickly. ‘His association with the gang was what put me in danger.’ She wasn’t going to mention the ‘accidents’ that Gerald had been happy to agree to, accidents that had been meant to frighten her away but hadn’t.

      ‘In the end he did the decent thing, I know.’ She tried to sound grateful. ‘And he paid a price for it. Not death as it’s turned out, but as good as, I guess.’

      Connie’s mind was still in the past. ‘What happened to the gang?’

      ‘They went to prison and they’re still there. They must believe they drowned Gerald. But his regiment thought he’d died trying to rescue me. The army had no idea of the real situation and they still don’t. He never went back to Jasirapur once he’d recovered from his injuries. If he had, the Indian Army would almost certainly have court-martialled him and then turned him over to the civilian courts. Anish warned me he could face criminal charges, as well as disgrace.’

      ‘I’m sorry for all these questions, but who is Anish?’

      ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She couldn’t bring herself to talk about the man who had masterminded her downfall, yet for whom she was still grieving. ‘The point is that Gerald is a deserter who wants my help, and I don’t know what to do.’

      Connie shook her head. ‘You can’t turn him in, that’s for sure. Whatever he’s done, he’s still your husband. Could СКАЧАТЬ