Free Call Nurse Jenny by Maggie Ford

him. That kiss had proved it, but even then she had broken away before it had had a chance to develop, becoming all formal again, telling him he’d be late back.
    Each time he thought about it, he found himself shaking his head in disbelief, found himself wondering about the feeling it had promoted, musing about the girl herself.
    Her nurse’s navy-blue coat had suited her colouring. Hair, burnished to old gold by August sunshine, still flared despite being drawn into a neat roll behind her ears; it made her look pretty really. He’d never noticed before. Probably the uniform? Not as leggy as he’d once thought her, not so overwhelming and always ready to help everyone. That had always been her trouble. She’d seemed more at ease. She’d make someone a wonderful wife one day.
    The thought brought an unexpected pang deep inside him, rather like a longing. He’d write to her again, definitely. In the past she’d always been too much of a managing person to be thought of in any other way than as a friend. Back in those careless days he had much preferred girls who liked to lean on a man rather than have a man lean on them. Jenny had never leaned on anyone. Perhaps she’d changed, had grown less independent. Perhaps it would be nice to find out. At the thought a small ripple of excitement made itself felt in the pit of his stomach.
    Sitting on his bed cleaning his equipment after a day on some muddy moor, he found himself wanting to find out, thinking about her, her life. Yes, when this bloody training allowed him a moment to himself, he would write. Good to have a girl to write to. He hadn’t got her hospital address but her mother could forward it on. And when he next came home on leave …

Chapter 5
    He had meant to write. But that weekend, with the Army’s usual lack of forewarning, his whole unit found itself transferred to a camp just outside Birmingham. With all the excitement that went with it, writing to Jenny had to be put to one side. That week he had a lot to do, settling in, and the following Saturday when he and a few mates wangled an evening pass into Birmingham, it was shelved again. But he would write, he told himself as he picked up his pass. He still felt good about her.
    Cadging a lift in the back of an Army truck to save a bus fare, the group split up to find their own way to whatever part of the city they sought for a few hours’ pleasure. Matthew found a dance hall near the town centre. Obviously popular, it was packed, the floor crammed with couples, girls in bright dresses, men in uniform, a tight kaleidoscopic mass gyrating slowly to a strict-tempo waltz by a top-quality band.
    ‘We’ll slope off then, see what talent there is.’ Once the last two mates with him moved away, Matthew found himself alone, already losing interest.
    ‘See you later,’ he muttered to himself, for they had already melted into the crowd. He didn’t know why he felt so despondent. Jenny crossed his mind briefly, though why, he couldn’t say. She had never excelled as a ballroom dancer. She knew how to dance, but she was better at sports like swimming and badminton and tennis. So why this odd pang thinking of her here in this unfamiliar dance hall? Yes, he was feeling at a loose end at this moment. He would write to her when he got back to camp.
    What he needed now was someone to take away this unaccustomed loneliness he was experiencing. With an effort he perked himself up and surveyed the crowd, as his mates were doing a little way off.
    Not much was here except for one petite dark-haired girl at one of the far tables, visible now that the floor was clearing from the waltz just ended and the lights were coming back up. She was with a Marine. Yet the way they were leaning away from each other, not talking, conveyed that she might not be with the Marine for much longer. Matthew took heart, began to feel better. She’d do.
    ‘Found anyone yet, Matt?’ Dave, one of his mates, was back, himself still looking for