you having one?’
Dora shook her head. ‘I don’t really fancy it. Besides, I’ve got to get this pudding on.’ She moved around the table to inspect the mixture Danny had been stirring. ‘How are you getting on, Dan? That’s lovely. I reckon it could do with some more fruit though, don’t you? Fetch us some from the cupboard, there’s a good boy.’ She looked up at Helen. ‘Come on, then. Let’s hear all your news. How are you getting on in Casualty?’
Helen sighed. ‘Not too well, I’m afraid.’
It was a relief to unburden herself to someone. She told Dora all about her problems with Dr McKay. Dora listened sympathetically as she worked, her arms going back and forth, adding the fruit Danny had brought from the larder, and stirring the mixture. From time to time she stopped to blow one of her red curls off her face.
‘Oh, my gawd!’ She shrieked with laughter when Helen told her about the snowball incident. ‘I wish I’d been there. Fancy you smacking someone in the face with a snowball, Helen Dawson! And a doctor, no less.’
‘Don’t,’ Helen groaned, covering her face with her hands. ‘I want to die every time I think about it.’
‘Did he say anything about it afterwards?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s been stony silence ever since.’
At least he’d stopped seeking her out to criticise her. Now he just seemed to avoid her.
‘Well, that’s peculiar,’ Dora said. ‘It ain’t like Dr McKay not to have a sense of humour. He was a real sweetheart when I worked with him. Couldn’t do enough for people.’
‘I know, that’s what everyone tells me,’ Helen sighed. ‘I’m beginning to think I’m the only one in the world he doesn’t like. Anyway, I’m not going to let him spoil my afternoon,’ she said determinedly, picking up her teacup.
‘Good for you.’
She watched Dora go to the oven, take out a tray of hot mince pies and dump them unceremoniously on the draining board.
‘Aren’t you going to take them out of the tin?’ Helen asked.
‘In a minute. To be honest, the smell’s making me feel a bit queasy.’
Dora went back to the big pudding bowl. ‘Right, now we’ve all got to take turns to stir this and make a wish,’ she said. ‘Come on, Helen, you can go first.’
Helen did as she was told, closing her eyes as she scraped the spoon around the bowl. Danny took his turn and then Dora. Helen watched her friend as she stirred the pudding round and around, her eyes tightly shut.
‘I bet I know what you’ve wished for.’ Helen smiled.
A frown crossed Dora’s freckled face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Come on, Dora! I’ve never known you say no to a cup of tea before, and as for the smell of your delicious baking making you feel sick . . .’ She looked down at her friend’s waistline. ‘And covering yourself up in that pinny doesn’t fool me, either.’
Dora grinned, her hand moving down to smooth the folds over her stomach. ‘I might have known I wouldn’t be able to pull the wool over a nurse’s eyes!’
‘So I’m right, then? You’re pregnant?’
Dora nodded, her eyes sparkling. ‘I’m due in June. We didn’t want to tell anyone until we were sure.’ She smiled sheepishly. ‘You’re right, that’s what I was wishing for. That my baby will be born healthy.’
‘You don’t need to wish for that. You’ll be fine,’ Helen reassured her.
‘I will if my husband has anything to do with it. He’s treating me like I’m made of glass. Won’t let me do anything.’
‘Quite right, too. You deserve to be thoroughly spoiled.’ Helen smiled at her. ‘For heaven’s sake, Dora, why did you let me go on rambling about my problems when you had such big news?’
‘I wasn’t sure if I should tell you.’ Dora sent her a cautious look from underneath her lashes.
‘Why not?’
‘I dunno . . . it didn’t seem right somehow.’ She went back to stirring the pudding. ‘I was worried you might be upset.’
‘But why on earth should I
Dora shook her head. ‘I don’t really fancy it. Besides, I’ve got to get this pudding on.’ She moved around the table to inspect the mixture Danny had been stirring. ‘How are you getting on, Dan? That’s lovely. I reckon it could do with some more fruit though, don’t you? Fetch us some from the cupboard, there’s a good boy.’ She looked up at Helen. ‘Come on, then. Let’s hear all your news. How are you getting on in Casualty?’
Helen sighed. ‘Not too well, I’m afraid.’
It was a relief to unburden herself to someone. She told Dora all about her problems with Dr McKay. Dora listened sympathetically as she worked, her arms going back and forth, adding the fruit Danny had brought from the larder, and stirring the mixture. From time to time she stopped to blow one of her red curls off her face.
‘Oh, my gawd!’ She shrieked with laughter when Helen told her about the snowball incident. ‘I wish I’d been there. Fancy you smacking someone in the face with a snowball, Helen Dawson! And a doctor, no less.’
‘Don’t,’ Helen groaned, covering her face with her hands. ‘I want to die every time I think about it.’
‘Did he say anything about it afterwards?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s been stony silence ever since.’
At least he’d stopped seeking her out to criticise her. Now he just seemed to avoid her.
‘Well, that’s peculiar,’ Dora said. ‘It ain’t like Dr McKay not to have a sense of humour. He was a real sweetheart when I worked with him. Couldn’t do enough for people.’
‘I know, that’s what everyone tells me,’ Helen sighed. ‘I’m beginning to think I’m the only one in the world he doesn’t like. Anyway, I’m not going to let him spoil my afternoon,’ she said determinedly, picking up her teacup.
‘Good for you.’
She watched Dora go to the oven, take out a tray of hot mince pies and dump them unceremoniously on the draining board.
‘Aren’t you going to take them out of the tin?’ Helen asked.
‘In a minute. To be honest, the smell’s making me feel a bit queasy.’
Dora went back to the big pudding bowl. ‘Right, now we’ve all got to take turns to stir this and make a wish,’ she said. ‘Come on, Helen, you can go first.’
Helen did as she was told, closing her eyes as she scraped the spoon around the bowl. Danny took his turn and then Dora. Helen watched her friend as she stirred the pudding round and around, her eyes tightly shut.
‘I bet I know what you’ve wished for.’ Helen smiled.
A frown crossed Dora’s freckled face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Come on, Dora! I’ve never known you say no to a cup of tea before, and as for the smell of your delicious baking making you feel sick . . .’ She looked down at her friend’s waistline. ‘And covering yourself up in that pinny doesn’t fool me, either.’
Dora grinned, her hand moving down to smooth the folds over her stomach. ‘I might have known I wouldn’t be able to pull the wool over a nurse’s eyes!’
‘So I’m right, then? You’re pregnant?’
Dora nodded, her eyes sparkling. ‘I’m due in June. We didn’t want to tell anyone until we were sure.’ She smiled sheepishly. ‘You’re right, that’s what I was wishing for. That my baby will be born healthy.’
‘You don’t need to wish for that. You’ll be fine,’ Helen reassured her.
‘I will if my husband has anything to do with it. He’s treating me like I’m made of glass. Won’t let me do anything.’
‘Quite right, too. You deserve to be thoroughly spoiled.’ Helen smiled at her. ‘For heaven’s sake, Dora, why did you let me go on rambling about my problems when you had such big news?’
‘I wasn’t sure if I should tell you.’ Dora sent her a cautious look from underneath her lashes.
‘Why not?’
‘I dunno . . . it didn’t seem right somehow.’ She went back to stirring the pudding. ‘I was worried you might be upset.’
‘But why on earth should I
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