The Lonely One Read online

  ‘I’ve done it, I’ve done it, I’ve done it!’ she cried.

  ‘Don’t tell me, let me guess!’ Liz looked up from the pair of stockings she was darning. ‘The most famous surgeon in the place has just fallen on his knees at the sight of your gorgeous orbs, and begged you to take him and his little all for ever and a day!’

  Dorothy Jackson, sitting in lonely state at the other side of the room, with text-books spread ostentatiously all round her, sighed loudly, and collecting her equipment, left the room to the four friends, disapproval written all over her straight back as she went. Bobby stuck her tongue out at the slam of the door behind her, and then jumped gaily on to an armchair. ‘Listen, you lucky, lucky people. Your Auntie Bobby, who has the welfare of each and every one of you dear creatures firmly ensconced in her kind heart has made a social arrangement for you. Say thank you nicely.’

  Thank you nicely,’ said Judith promptly. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Well,’ said Bobby, with theatrical emphasis. ‘I was just walking quietly across the hospital courtyard on the way back from that nice little errand Sister Chessman sent me on, and what should come across the said yard but the most beautiful piece of man I have ever clapped these young eyes of mine upon. To put it in a nutshell, and without any vulgarity, he was gorgeous!’

  ‘So?’ Liz was getting impatient.

  ‘So,’ Bobby said. ‘I, without a moment’s hesitation, and knowing full well that you three dear souls were sitting here positively languishing for the company of a few males, did my famous imitation of a lady tripping over a stone. And the gorgeous object caught me! Never even noticed there wasn’t a stone there! Cor, but I’m a talented creature – admit it!’

  ‘We admit it.’ Liz was nearly bouncing with impatience. ‘So what happened?’

  ‘So we’re all invited to a hospital party tonight as ever is! Doctors’ common-room, nine o’clock sharp, in your best bibs and tuckers! How’s that then!’

  ‘All of us!’ Judith said. ‘All four of us?’

  ‘Sure!’ Bobby said. ‘He wanted to go and buy me some coffee in the canteen, to get me over the shock of my fall, you see –’ She smirked wickedly. ‘And I told him I had to get back to the kind care of Sister Chessman, or I would have loved to drink coffee with him – you know, a delicate mixture of interest and maidenly modesty. It always gets ’em. Anyway, he said in that case, come and have something a bit stronger by way of restorative tonight, so, I said – more maidenly modesty, and general nice mindedness – that I had three very nice friends over here in the schoolroom without whom I couldn’t possibly go anywhere, so he said, with charming promptness, Bring ’em along!’ She giggled, her eyes sparkling very attractively. ‘He said if they were half as nice as me, they’d be very ornamental about the old common-room, so I assured him you were all much much nicer! Cor, was I modest today! The strain is killing me!’

  ‘But so late!’ Bridget felt fear rising in her as she thought of herself going to a party. ‘We can’t possibly go – we have to be in here at ten o’clock – you know they lock up then!’

  ‘Bridie, Bridie, dear!’ Bobby cooed across at her. ‘Be your age, my little one. A couple of bob in Margaret’s outstretched palm, and the back door will be ever so conveniently forgotten tonight – and even if it isn’t, I’m a dead ringer at climbing into first-floor windows up fire escapes. Let’s live dangerously, girl! Fear you not, we’ll get in again! It’s the least of our problems.’

  Amid the general hilarity of the other three, Bridget was silenced. She was definitely afraid, mostly of the thought of going to a party where there would be lots of people she didn’t know, partly because of the fear of being caught out of the building after the curfew set by Sister Chessman. But she said no more about her feelings, for she knew that Bobby’s high good humour could rapidly deteriorate into irritation, and she had no intention of upsetting Bobby. Bobby happy was a wonderful and exciting person to be with, and could make them all feel marvellous. But Bobby in a bad mood could plunge them all into gloom and despondency, so strong was her effect on them.

  So, at eight o’clock that night, she let the other three lend her clothes, let them show her how to put on some make-up, let the clever Liz comb her hair into a very becoming new shape, and said not a word about her nervousness. When they had finished with her, she stared in the mirror at the new Bridget, and at what she saw there found a sort of excited pleasure battling with her apprehension.

  Her thick dark-brown hair was swept on each side of her face into gleaming wings, the ends turning up slightly so that the light caught the tips with a gleam of gold. The big, grey eyes under fine-winged eyebrows looked deeper and somehow larger, thanks to the smudge of eye-shadow Liz had expertly applied to the lids and the touch of mascara on the lashes. Even her freckles, something she had always disliked on herself, looked different, attractive somehow, dusting her nose and cheeks above the soft, rose-coloured lipstick Liz had found for her. She was wearing one of Judith’s dresses, a deep green one that fitted her well, showing her long waist and pretty tilted bust to perfection.

  ‘Oh,’ she breathed softly, as she stared at herself, and impulsively, Liz hugged her. ‘I look quite – nice,’ Bridget said wonderingly.

  ‘Of course you do, mouse!’ Liz said affectionately. ‘You’ve got lots of potential. You’ve just got to learn how to develop it, that’s all! You’re as nice to look at as the next person – and don’t you forget it! If you feel pretty, then you’ll look pretty – it never fails. You’ll have lots of fun tonight – come on,’

  And with pleasurable anticipation at last overcoming her nervousness, Bridget ‘came on’, and followed her three friends as they slipped silently down the wide staircase towards the back door. Bridget was going to her first party, with her first real friends, and Bridget was a very happy girl indeed.

  Chapter 3

  Bridget had never seen so many people crushed into one room before. It was not a big room, either, as far as she could see through the crowd and the dim light and the thick drift of tobacco smoke that clung to the ceiling and sent tendrils down among the close-packed bodies beneath. She was still feeling bewildered. When they had walked into the doctors’ common-room, Bridget hiding behind Judith, they had been greeted with a boisterous shout from a tall man who had been busily working with bottles and glasses in one corner.

  Hallo! – Then you managed to escape from your wardress? Well done! Clive, David, Ken – meet some of the new lambs!’ and he had taken Bobby’s hand, thrown one arm across Liz’s shoulders, and with Judith and Bridget following, led the four girls towards a group of men who had been leaning against the makeshift bar. There had been introductions, to which the other three girls had made gay response, only Bridget seeming in the least bit shy of these strangers, not that anyone seemed to notice her shyness. Someone had thrust a glass into her hand – the contents of which she had not attempted to taste – and in seconds, Bobby and Judith were dancing, while Liz was chattering to one of the men as though she had known him all her life.

  The room filled with people very quickly, one or two of the girls in uniform, some of the men in white coats, and the noise increased in proportion. A record-player ground out raucous music that made Bridget’s head swim a little, and people chattered at the tops of their voices in an attempt to make themselves heard above it. But despite the noise, and the smell of smoke, Bridget was enjoying herself.

  She sat perched on the arm of a chair, against the wall, and watched the dancers and the chatterers with wide eyes. She was quite happy to be by herself in the middle of it all – indeed, her pleasure would have been diminished if she had not been able to sit quietly and watch, turning her still untasted drink in her hands.

  Bobby, twisting merrily in the middle of the room, her fair hair swinging round her flushed cheeks, was a joy to watch, and when one of the other men, with a neat movement, ousted the tall man with whom she had been dancing, taking his place with a mock bow, Bridget chuckled. The tal
l man, without any apparent annoyance, made his way through the crowded scrap of dance floor towards Bridget’s corner, and flopped into the chair whose arm she was occupying.

  ‘Between ourselves, sweetheart,’ he said, grinning up at her, ‘I’d had about enough of that. Me, I wasn’t made for these energetic type of dances. Give me a nice smoochy blues any day. What say you?’

  ‘I – er – I don’t really know,’ Bridget said awkwardly. ‘I’ve never done much dancing –’

  ‘No? We’ll have to remedy that!’ He leaned forwards, and pulled her round to look at him. ‘Now, which one are you? You are one of the new lambs, aren’t you? Didn’t you come in with Bobby and the others?’

  ‘Yes –’ Bridget looked at him properly for the first time. He had a square face, with deep clefts in each cheek, clefts that had obviously started out as dimples when he had been a child, a wide, friendly mouth with very even white teeth, brown eyes that were crinkled with laughter-lines under slightly untidy eyebrows, and crisp dark-brown hair that was cut close to a well-shaped head.

  ‘I seem to have missed out on the introductions,’ he said, his smile deepening as he noticed the ready colour climb into her cheeks. ‘I’m Josh Simpson. My misguided parents named me after a rather dull Biblical type, but try not to hold it against me. Anyway, Joshua will be an excellent name for me when I get my knighthood, don’t you think? Sir Joshua Simpson, don’t you know – surgeon extraordinary to the Queen – very extraordinary!’ And he struck a heroic pose that made Bridget gurgle with laughter.

  ‘I’m Bridget Preston,’ she said, in response to his questioning face. ‘And I did come with Bobby and the others. It – it was very nice of you to ask us.’

  He stood up, and smiled down at her. ‘But I am nice – very nice. Nicest man in this here mess of men, believe me. Come on – let’s find a nice smoochy blues record, and try you out on that –’ and he pulled her to her feet, took her glass from her hand to put it down on the cluttered bar, and dragged her behind him to the record-player in the corner.

  ‘Here you are,’ he said, rapidly scrabbling through the untidy pile of records. ‘Here’s a gorgeous one –’ and he put it on the turn-table, and led her to the middle of the room.

  As the other couples, some with loud shouts of disagreement at Josh’s choice of music, moved towards each other to dance, and others, only interested in the fast, twisting records, made their way towards the drinks, Josh put his arms round Bridget, and started to dance. She had only ever danced with girls at school before, but she had a natural sense of rhythm, and despite her nervousness, the music soon relaxed her, and she found herself moving smoothly, matching her steps to his.

  ‘That’s better.’ His voice came very close to her ear. ‘Relax and enjoy it! Come on, now –’ and his arms tightened round her, and she felt his cheek against her hair, could feel his breath warm on her skin. For a moment she resisted the closeness, but then as the music swelled, and slid into a more definite beat, she did indeed relax, and danced as she had never danced before.

  It was odd, the way she was able to anticipate each move he made, the way her feet seemed automatically to go the right way, the comfort she found in his firm clasp. She danced on, eyes half closed, the soft wail of the trumpet in the music sending a delicious sleepiness through her, a sleepiness that in no way altered her pleasure in the dance. When the music stopped, she stood surprised for a moment, still held closely by Josh’s strong arms, before suddenly feeling all her shyness come surging back, so that she pulled herself awkwardly from his arms, and stood blinking at him.

  ‘Th – thank you – that was fun –’ she managed, and he laughed at her obvious confusion.

  ‘Bless the child, but she’s a shrinking-type violet! Are you really as shy as you seem to be?’

  She bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I – I’ve never well, I’m not really used to parties. I am sorry.’

  ‘Don’t apologise, my pretty!’ He touched her face then, gently running his finger down the curve of her cheek. ‘Believe me, sweetheart, you make a more than refreshing change. I’d forgotten there were girls in the world like you. I only ever meet the other kind. Come on – let’s have a drink, and find a nice cosy corner, and you can tell me the story of your life –’

  As he pulled her towards the bar again, she caught a glimpse of Bobby and Liz and Judith across the room. Almost to her horror, she saw that Judith was sitting perched on one man’s lap, while Bobby was busily parrying the attentions of a man who, even to Bridget’s inexperienced eyes, seemed to be rather full of drink.

  ‘You see what I mean?’ Josh’s voice came from above her, and she turned startled eyes on to his face. ‘Shy girls are at a premium these days –’ and he, too, looked across at the others, but without any of the shocked surprise on his face that Bridget had felt. ‘Not that those friends of yours aren’t crackers – gorgeous types, hmm? Can’t say I blame David.’

  ‘David?’ Bridget asked, as they arrived at the bar, and Josh began to mix drinks for them both, more to say something than because she really wanted to know which one David was.

  ‘David is the one who’s working so hard with your Bobby,’ Josh said over his shoulder. Tell me, how far will he get with her, do you suppose?’

  Bridget, for all her inexperience, was not completely ignorant, and as she saw David make an even more determined lunge at Bobby, this time succeeding in kissing her very thoroughly, a success that she could see Bobby did not object to with any real strength, she blushed scarlet.

  ‘I – I really don’t know,’ she said stiffly, and Josh, the drinks now ready, turned and looked across the room too.

  ‘Whoops! My money’s on David, lucky dog!’ he said, laughing. ‘That’s some girl.’

  ‘She’s very nice!’ Bridget was suddenly angry with this handsome, tall man beside her. ‘She can’t help it if – some drunken – drunken ass makes a nuisance of himself!’

  He looked at her, and his face softened. ‘I’m sorry, Bridget. I didn’t mean to be rude about your friend. I’m sure she’s a very nice girl –’

  ‘Oh, course she is!’ Bridget said hotly. ‘She can’t help it if she’s so pretty people make a fuss of her, can she?’

  ‘I suppose not –’ Then he laughed again. ‘Come on – let’s find a corner somewhere and wrap ourselves round these highly restorative-type medicines, and you can prove to me just how shy you really are –’

  And obediently, Bridget followed, still smarting slightly about his implied criticism of Bobby, but attracted to him far too much to willingly abandon his company.

  They settled themselves on a corner of a couch, and Josh put a glass in her hand, and looking at her over the top of his, said softly, ‘Skol!’ and Bridget, unable to refuse the drink, smiled stiffly back and said, ‘Skol!’ too, swallowing a mouthful of the cold, sweetish mixture he had given her.

  ‘Come on, now,’ he said, his face serious for the first time. ‘I truly would like to know about you. Are you as shy as you seem? Or is it a pretty pose? My instincts tell me it’s the real McCoy. Let me guess, hmm? Straight from school, and loving parents, and never been out on your own before.’

  Bridget, suddenly not caring about the possibility of pity said, ‘I left school a couple of years ago – I’m nineteen, you know –’

  ‘Honestly?’ He looked genuinely surprised. ‘I’d not have given you a minute over seventeen – though that’s silly, isn’t it? I mean, you have to be eighteen even to start nursing here, don’t you?’

  Bridget nodded. ‘Mmm. And I have no parents. Died when I was a child. I lived with my grandmother till she died a couple of months ago.’

  There was none of the pity she hated on his face, and for this alone she warmed to him. ‘Sounds a dullish sort of life. Was it?’

  She took another sip of her drink, and felt the warmth of the gin in it slide into her veins. ‘Pretty dull. It’s it’s marvellous to be here – to – well, to be on my own. Not that I’m lonel
y, of course. I’ve got my friends,’ and she said it with a sort of pride that made Josh suddenly feel the pity that she had thought she had managed to avoid – not that Bridget noticed it. She was looking dreamily across the room at the others. ‘They are such fun,’ she said with a sudden rush of confidence. ‘They do all the things I’d like to do – they’re marvellous –’

  ‘Don’t let them change you too much will you?’ Josh, too, looked across at the other girls with their three escorts. ‘You’re fine as you are, Tiddler.’

  She flushed, and with a courage born of the drink she was now steadily swallowing said, ‘Why not? You said yourself I was dull.’

  ‘Nothing of the sort!’ he said indignantly. ‘I just said you’d had a dull life – but you aren’t dull – not a bit of it! You’re sweet –’

  And she blushed hotly again at the warmth in his brown eyes, and dropped her own gaze to her glass.

  Bobby’s voice above them pulled her back from her confusion. ‘Help!’ she said gaily, flopping into the couch beside them. ‘That David’s quite a character, Josh! Shouldn’t he have a keeper or something? A girl isn’t safe with someone like that!’

  Josh laughed, and leaning back, threw a negligent arm across Bobby’s shoulders. ‘He’s all right – just gets all excited when he meets gorgeous girls. Can’t blame him for that, can you?’ And with a return to his mock heroics, he pulled her to him, and held her close.

  ‘What a woman!’ he proclaimed, winking at Bridget over Bobby’s smooth head. ‘Is this the face that launched a thousand ships, the face that set the hearts of every medico for miles around beating with unrequited passion? Woe is us! You’ll have us all leaping into sterilisers or something to drown ourselves and our sorrows, you and your luverly big blue eyes!’

  Bobby gurgled with pleasure, and said with a pretended severity that convinced no one, ‘And don’t you start, Buster! Just you be a good doctor and go and get me a drink. I need one.’