Free Christmas Wishes by Katie Flynn Page B

there shivering, white with fright and with tears running down her face. Gillian gulped, then fell into the old woman’s arms.
    ‘Oh, Gillian, I done what you said, and then I went round to the Finnigans’ and tried to rouse young Daphne, only she’s doin’ nights at the Northern Hospital,’ Mrs Lubbock quavered. ‘The ambulance were awful quick, especially when I telled them she were only thirteen and hurt real bad.’ She sniffed and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. ‘Oh, I pray to God she ain’t as bad as she looked! Course I couldn’t see much, but there were all that broken glass … Shall I fetch your pa? Oh, no – you said he’d been called out. Wharrabout me brother Toby? He’ll nail plywood over the broken window.’
    Gillian thought of Mrs Finnigan, a tall, lively Irish woman, whose language when roused was said to be the envy of an Irish navvy, and of Toby Lubbock, who had kissed the Blarney Stone, according to Daddy, and had, it was said, half a dozen wives in every port. He was ashore right now, but would either of these persons do more than she herself could, which was nothing, except to wait for Daddy? The ambulance men clearly thought that any further action on her part could wait until her sister was safe in a hospital ward.
    She turned back into the house, telling Mrs Lubbock rather sharply that the best thing she could do was brew a pot of tea whilst she herself spoke to the ambulance crew. Then she headed for the stairs, reaching them just as the two uniformed men, with Joy slung in a blanket between them, came carefully down the flight. Immediately, all her worries came surging back. The older of the two must have read the fear in her face for he slowed for a moment as he reached the foot of the stairs and smiled reassuringly at her.
    ‘Ma and Pa out on the razzle-dazzle, it bein’ Christmas? Oh, no – you said your dad’s a fireman …’
    ‘Her ma’s dead,’ Mrs Lubbock interrupted in a small voice. ‘That’s why I said I’d come over when Mr Lawrence is on nights, if the twins gorrinto any sort o’ trouble. Little did I think …’
    ‘Sorry, queen,’ the man said. He glanced at Mrs Lubbock, hovering in the kitchen doorway, and addressed her kindly. ‘Why don’t you make yourself and your young friend here a cup o’ tea and stop worrying. The young’ un will be all right once we get her into hospital.’
    Mrs Lubbock nodded eagerly, but Gillian shook her head. ‘I’ll go with my sister,’ she said obstinately. ‘If Joy wakes up to find herself alone in a strange bed she might make herself really ill, from fright and that.’
    The ambulance man shrugged philosophically. ‘You may be right,’ he admitted as they left the house and lifted Joy carefully into the ambulance. ‘Hop aboard, then … only what’ll your pa think if he comes home to find the house deserted? He’ll likely believe you’ve been kidnapped, and before we know it every scuffer in the city will be out searching for you.’
    Gillian had already climbed into the ambulance, but the old lady, who had followed them outside, spoke up. ‘I’ll stay here and tell Mr Lawrence what’s happened,’ she volunteered. ‘Better meself than the youngster here.’
    The older man, in the act of closing the ambulance doors, turned to give her an approving nod. ‘That’s the ticket,’ he said breezily. ‘Be sure to tell Mr Lawrence to come straight to the hospital, though.’
    ‘I will,’ Mrs Lubbock said. Gillian leaned forward.
    ‘Ta ever so, Mrs L, you’re a real brick,’ she shouted. ‘And ask me dad to bring me some proper clothes, will you? I dare say a dressing gown will pass muster on the wards, but when Joy and me come home it will probably be full daylight, and folk will think I’m a queer kid to go walking the streets in me nightwear!’
    Alex arrived in the large reception hall desperately anxious, for Mrs Lubbock had not been able to tell him much, save the name of the hospital