Call Nurse Jenny by Maggie Ford Read Free Book Online Page A

from her, supporting himself with one hand against a lamppost. ‘Don’t you have jus’ one small doubt, Jenny, in that great big heart of yours? Aren’t you just a little curious to know why I … why I didn’t volunteer, like Dennis and Freddy and half the country?’
    His attitude confused her, put her at odds with herself. Her entire evening with him had been spent struggling with that malignant tumour of doubt, not knowing for a moment that he’d perceived the cracks in her armour. Now he was accusing her and she had no defence. She reached out and took his arm. ‘I don’t know why, Matthew. You’re making me feel very unhappy.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’ She wasn’t sure if the apology was genuine or spoken in anger. ‘Seems it’s the fashion t’be unhappy.’ His body seemed to sag a little against the lamppost.
    ‘All I know is I’ve got to tell
someone
.’ For a moment he fell silent while Jenny waited, then quietly, as though ashamed of himself, he said, ‘Someone I can trust. I trust you, Jenny. Above anyone else I know, I trust you. I wish … I jus’ wish … God, I feel a bit sick.’
    She waited while he rested his head against the iron post. In the utter darkness, but for the pinprick of light from her torch, she could hardly see him. Standing there, she stared into the black night, the chill of autumn creeping about her shoulders all the more chill for there being no light anywhere. It felt as though they were the only two people in the whole world; East London was preparing for sleep, no buses, no vehicles of any kind drove past them, just a low hum of which she was only just aware could be heard, so low it was, of some distant flicker of life in this darkened city. Silence, the silence of a metropolis waiting for that something it knew would happen eventually.
    She shivered, not from cold, but from foreboding, thankful for the presence of Matthew, even if a little the worse for wine and brandy. Yet if she hadn’t gone out with him this evening, she wouldn’t be here now to feel this fear of the dark, this ominous dark with its low distant rumbling like the warning of a storm yet to break but still unseen. And again she shivered.
    Matthew’s voice made her jump, even though it was so low that had a breeze ruffled the still air, she would have missed his words.
    ‘All my life …’ He paused as though thinking it out, then began again. ‘All my life Louise and I have been nursed along, protected, pampered. Our parents have always been there to fight our fights, solve our problems, especially my mother. I know she always meant well so I let her get on with it. I even thought it funny. But I took it all for granted. My fault. But there comes a time … I’ve just begun to realise the harm it’s done. It’s like being smothered by a blanket, warm and safe, but – well, suffocating if it’s pulled too close. Throw it off and you realise just how fresh the air can be. D’you know what I’m trying to say, Jenny?’
    He didn’t wait for her reply. ‘I’ve got to break away. Make my own life. But how the hell do you say to someone you love, someone who loves you: “Thanks for everything, but I’m off”? She does love me, but so, I don’t know, so selfishly, and she doesn’t even realise it.’
    His words trailed off as he became lost in his thoughts while Jenny stood by not knowing what to say.
    He began to talk again. ‘This war. It seemed my chance to get away without hurting her feelings. But she’s cheated me even out of that. And she can’t see it. Had it all worked out for me, trying to help, holding my hand yet again, making enquiries to get me into some officer cadet training unit or other. I don’t know what she had in mind or thought she could do – I’ve not been listening that much. All I know is that this time I want to do things for myself. I’m twenty-one. I don’t want her to keep holding my hand.’
    Jenny found her voice. ‘Can’t you explain to her how you