Peggy dredged up a smile and used all the inner resources she’d come to rely upon over these past years to pull herself together. ‘I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself, darling. Just ignore those silly tears – I’m quite, quite over them now.’

5

The day had been a busy one, for which Danuta had been quite thankful. It had meant she’d had little time to worry about Stanislaw’s dire warnings over her return to Poland, and her meeting with him this evening. However, now and again she’d become distracted, and when she’d had to go back to the clinic for a third time to fetch something she’d forgotten, Sister Higgins, the senior district nurse, had not been best pleased.

Danuta had managed to get through the day without mishap and she was now back at the clinic to clean her instruments and restock her medical bag. Glancing up at the clock, she noted it was almost time for her to go home, and began to fret about how to get changed and back out of Beach View without Peggy wanting to know where she was going, and with whom. Her reluctance to say anything wasn’t because her meeting with Stanislaw was a secret – nothing stayed secret for long in this town – but she didn’t want Peggy to get the wrong idea about things. After all, she reasoned, there was no harm in being friendly with Stanislaw, he was good company, and it was lovely to speak Polish again. Romance had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Danuta briskly polished the leather bag with a soft cloth and then washed her hands thoroughly before taking off her cap and unpinning her hair. It had been brutally hacked off by the Gestapo, but now fell in thick black waves to just beneath her jaw.

She ran a brush through it and wondered if she should leave it down for this evening or pin it up again. The Grove was a very smart restaurant that had opened just off the High Street during the VE Day celebrations and was rapidly becoming very popular with those who could afford to pay the prices they charged. Which posed a set of problems she hadn’t thought about when she’d rather foolishly accepted Stanislaw’s invitation. She didn’t think it would be right to expect him to pay for her dinner, but she couldn’t really afford to ‘go Dutch’ as the others called it – and then there was the fact she didn’t own anything halfway smart enough to wear.

She put her hairbrush back in her shoulder bag and decided the whole thing had become far too complicated and worrisome. There was plenty of time to telephone the sanatorium at Cliffe and tell Stanislaw she couldn’t make it. She eyed the telephone, torn between wanting to see him and not wanting to see him, but before she could do anything, it began to ring.

‘Sister Danuta.’

There was a pause as money was slotted into the public call box. ‘I know it’s the end of your shift, but I need you to get to Mrs Wilson at number seven, Exchange Lane,’ said Sister Florence Higgins. ‘She’s gone into labour, and I’m held up here with Mrs Frost.’