The Nightingale Girls

CHAPTER Forty-One



‘GUESS WHAT? I’M getting an award!’

Lucy Lane made the announcement from her usual position at the head of the table in the dining room, her voice rising imperiously over the clatter of knives and forks. No one responded. They were all too used to Lucy’s bragging to bother being impressed any more.

‘The Board of Trustees is awarding prizes to the top student from each year on Founder’s Day,’ Lucy went on, oblivious to their lack of interest. ‘They’re giving it to Patterson in the third year, Tremayne in second year, and me.’ She beamed around at them all. A couple of the students nodded politely, the others just went on eating. ‘They’re giving out the prizes at the Founder’s Day party. Our parents are being invited to watch us. I expect my mother will absolutely insist I have a new dress!’ She sighed, as if the whole business was simply too exhausting.

‘Listen to her, she’s off again.’ Katie rolled her eyes at Dora. ‘I really wish someone would take her down a peg or two.’

Dora didn’t reply. For once, Lucy’s bragging washed over her. She had far more important things on her mind.

Today her mum and the kids were due home from their holiday in Loughton, and Dora was anxious to visit and find out how Josie was getting on.

She hoped her mum had let her stay on with Auntie Brenda a bit longer. Anything to keep her out of Alf’s clutches.

She was certain in her own mind that he had turned his attentions to her sister. She tried not to think about what poor little Josie had gone through. But over the past three weeks her nightmares had started again. Only this time it was her sister’s haunted face that woke her up screaming.

Bea was playing out with some other children from their street when Dora arrived in Griffin Street. She heard her little sister’s voice before she’d even turned the corner, bossing everyone about. They were taking turns to bowl a hoop made from the metal rim of an old bicycle wheel. But as soon as she saw Dora, Bea abandoned the game and ran up the street to greet her.

‘We’ve got a hoop, look! Although it’s mine really,’ she added with a warning glare at the children who hovered nearby. ‘I found it.’

But Dora wasn’t listening. Her attention was fixed on the skinny, dark-haired girl sitting on the kerb, shoulders hunched, her knees drawn up under her chin.

Dora’s stomach plummeted. ‘Josie?’

Bea glanced over her shoulder. ‘No use talking to her. She don’t want to play. Just sits there looking miserable. She’s hardly said a dickie bird since we left Auntie Brenda’s.’ She pulled a face, then turned to Dora, her green eyes brightening. ‘You’ll play with us, won’t you?’

‘Later on,’ Dora said, already heading across the street towards Josie.

Josie didn’t see her until Dora said her name. When she looked up, her face seemed thin and drawn, huge fearful dark eyes above jutting cheekbones.

‘What are you doing here?’ Josie asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

‘I was just about to ask you the same question. I thought you were staying at Auntie Brenda’s?’

‘Auntie Brenda’s eldest has gone down with scarlet fever, so Mum thought I’d be safer at home.’

If only she knew, Dora thought. She sat down next to her on the kerb. ‘Are you all right, love?’ she asked.

‘Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’ Josie’s voice sounded hollow.

‘Why did you run away?’

‘I was just being daft.’ Josie hugged her knees tighter under her chin. Dora noticed how thin her arms were in her cotton summer dress. At fifteen, she was still no more than a child.

‘You must have had a reason . . .?’

‘I told you, I was being daft.’ Josie met her eye. ‘Don’t ask me any more,’ she pleaded.

‘But I’m your sister. I want to help.’

‘You can’t,’ Josie said. ‘You wouldn’t understand . . .’

Wouldn’t I, Dora thought. ‘Try me,’ she begged.

Josie shook her head. ‘There’s nothing to tell,’ she insisted stubbornly. But her wretched face told a different story.

‘Josie—’

‘Leave it, Dora, please. There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do.’

Dora stared at her sister’s profile, and knew she had to say something. She had kept her secret buried in a deep, dark place, somewhere she would never have to look at it or think about it. But now, for her sister’s sake, she had to bring her own shame back out into the light.

‘Josie,’ she began, already hating the words that came out of her mouth. ‘There’s something I need to tell you—’

But she didn’t have a chance to finish before they heard a yell from inside the house. Bea dropped her hoop with a clatter and started running, Dora and Josie on her heels.

They almost collided with their mother coming out of the back door.

‘Oh, Dora, thank God you’re here!’ She clutched her arm. ‘Fetch an ambulance, quickly. Your dad’s collapsed!’