Free Nightingales on Call by Donna Douglas Page B

Are you always this contrary, Jess Jago?’
    She stiffened. ‘How do you know my name?’
    ‘I might have been asking around about you.’
    Jess glanced over her shoulder at the other stallholders. ‘I’m sure everyone’s been falling over themselves to tell you what my family’s like?’
    He shrugged. ‘They have, but I don’t take any notice. I prefer to make up my own mind about people.’ He sent her a long, considering look. ‘My name’s Sam, by the way. Sam Cordwainer.’
    ‘I wasn’t aware I’d asked.’
    ‘No, but I thought I’d tell you anyway. So you know what to call me when I take you out.’
    Jess was so surprised she couldn’t help laughing. ‘You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?’
    ‘I think a lot of you.’ He cocked his head. ‘So what do you say? Can I take you out one night?’
    Jess picked up a book and flicked through it for something to do. ‘Can’t,’ she said. ‘I’m busy.’
    ‘But we haven’t set a date yet!’
    ‘Whenever it is, I’ll still be busy.’
    Sam grinned. ‘Playing hard to get, are you?’
    ‘If that’s what you want to think.’ She closed the book and handed it back to him. ‘Anyway, I can’t stand round here talking to you all day long. I’ve got more important things to do with my time.’
    ‘If you say so. But you’ll be back,’ he predicted.
    ‘Of course I will.’ She smiled sweetly at him. ‘This is the only second-hand bookstall in Bethnal Green.’
    As she walked away, Sam called after her, ‘You’ll see. You won’t be able to resist my charm for ever!’
    Of course she didn’t have anything to do with her time except wander around the market, trying to stay out of Sam’s line of sight. As she wandered among the stalls Jess kept sneaking looks over at him. He was standing behind his display of books, that soppy grin of his all over his face, charming the customers. She noticed how he perked up whenever a woman went by, how his gaze followed them. They didn’t seem to be falling for his daft patter any more than Jess had.
    She bought an apple turnover from the baker’s, and started back across the market. It had started to rain again, sending cold drips down the back of her collar. She abandoned her plan to go to the park and decided to hurry back to her room instead. With any luck she could finish another chapter of her book before it was time to return to duty.
    She was heading down Bethnal Green Road when she heard a commotion coming from outside the pie and mash shop on the corner.
    ‘But I’m waiting for someone!’ a girl’s voice said.
    ‘Then you’ll have to wait somewhere else. You’ve been sat on my doorstep this past half hour.’
    As Jess drew closer, she saw the proprietor of the pie shop, a giant of a woman, towering over a young girl who sat at her feet. The girl wasn’t much older than Jess. She was wrapped in a heavy raincoat, a beret perched on top of her dripping dark curls. There was something oddly familiar about her.
    ‘But I can’t leave,’ she explained in a gentle Irish voice. ‘Otherwise the boy won’t know where to find me.’
    The woman frowned. ‘What boy?’
    ‘The one who kindly offered me directions to the Nightingale Hospital. I’m going to be a nurse there, you see. But we got separated in the crowd.’
    ‘Did you now?’ The woman folded her arms across her chest. ‘And I suppose you let him carry your bags for you, too?’
    ‘How did you know that?’
    The woman gave a shout of laughter. ‘Blimey, love, how green are you?’ she roared. ‘You didn’t lose him – he lost you. Good and proper, by the sound of it.’
    ‘But I don’t understand. Why would he—’ The girl hesitated for a moment. ‘You mean he stole my bag?’
    The woman nodded. ‘Sorry, ducks, but I reckon that’s the last you’ll see of him or your bag. Was there much in it?’
    ‘Everything I have.’ The girl’s voice was choked. ‘Oh, God, and I’ve only been in London two hours. My sisters are