‘Face it, Aileen,’ put in Susan, ‘with men you are a right pushover and you fall in love more often than I have hot dinners.’
‘This is different,’ Aileen maintained. ‘They were just mere mortals, but this man is a god, a true god. You’ll know when you see him yourself.’
‘Has he a name, this man?’ Maggie asked with a wry smile. ‘Just in case there is more than one god trailing about the hospital?’
Aileen cast her a withering look. ‘Connolly, that’s what he’s called. Dr P. Connolly.’
‘Haven’t you found out what the P stands for yet?’ Maggie cried. ‘God, Aileen, you’re slipping.’
‘Give me time,’ Aileen said. ‘I have only just spotted him. It could be Peter.’
‘Or Philip or Paul,’ Susan said.
‘Or Patrick,’ said Maggie, and went on mockingly, ‘But surely these are such ordinary, mortal names for such a superior being?’
‘You wait till you see him,’ Aileen said, getting in a huff at all the teasing. ‘And when you do, remember that I saw him first and that makes him mine.’
‘Haven’t you heard the expression that all’s fair in love and war?’ Maggie asked.
‘I don’t know about fair in love and war,’ said Susan. ‘But I do know no one will be fair on us if we don’t head on to the wards, and mightily quickly too.’
There was a resigned groan as the girls, realising that Susan was right, got to their feet. The matter of Aileen and the dashing doctor was shelved for the moment.
It soon filtered around the hospital that the Adonis that Aileen had described was Lois’s cousin Paul. Aileen was delighted that one of the girls was related to him.
‘That’s wonderful. Maybe she can put in a word for me,’ she said at breakfast one morning.
‘Why should she?’ said Jane with a laugh.
‘Anyway, I’d say a man like that will make up his own mind,’ Sylvia said. ‘And from what I remember from the night we met him down the Bull Ring that one time, it was Carmel he was showing an interest in.’
‘Carmel!’
‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ Sylvia said. ‘She’s very pretty.’
There was no denying that. Aileen thought it a shame that such beauty should go to waste, for Carmel seemed to have no interest in men. ‘I bet she didn’t take no notice,’ she said.
‘No, she didn’t.’
‘I don’t understand her,’ Aileen said. ‘I don’t know why she don’t go the whole hog and be a nun if she ain’t a bit interested in men. Anyway, it don’t matter, she has had her chance and if she don’t want Paul, plenty will—like me, for instance.’
‘You’ll have to get in the queue for that then,’ another girl said from further down the table. ‘’Cos I will hand it to you this time, Aileen, he is very dishy, this Paul Connolly, and I intend to be very nice to Lois.’
In actual fact, probationers had little to do with the doctors anyway, and so it was a couple of days before Carmel confronted Paul face to face.
‘Good morning, Dr Connolly,’ she said, and saw that he was more shaken than she was, but he took his guide from her.
‘Good morning, Nurse Duffy.’
Carmel passed him then, giving him no chance to linger. Paul, watching her go, felt as if his limbs had turned to water. He knew then that he was in love with Carmel Duffy.
Carmel, however, seemed completely content. She still hadn’t much money—none of them had—but thanks to the second-hand stall at the Rag Market she had been able to add to her wardrobe a little, and though she enjoyed going out with a crowd of nurses, especially her room-mates, she would never make arrangements to see later any of the boys they might meet. When others did and would go out on dates, Carmel would be quite happy to stay in by herself, or pop over to see the nuns at St Chad’s Hospital.
The other student nurses would often shake their heads over Carmel’s determinedly single state. As far as they could ascertain, Paul Connolly didn’t go out much either, and though he didn’t appear to have anyone special in his life, he showed no interest in any of them.
In fact, Paul was more miserable than he could ever remember. He was finding it harder than he had ever thought it would be, seeing Carmel, going about her duties, or laughing and joking with the patients or her friends, but treating him so formally.
However, there was nothing to be gained by mooning over her, he knew, so, coaxed and bullied by his friends, he did start to go out more, though he still took no more notice of the student nurses than he ever had.
That year, Paul volunteered to work over Christmas and so did Carmel. Lois was having that Christmas off and so was Sylvia. Jane was on duty, but courting strong, and Carmel guessed she wouldn’t see much of her outside of their working hours. She told herself she didn’t mind this, but for the first time she felt left out and knew she would be glad when the others were back and Christmas over and done with.
She was surprised how good Paul was in the pantomime, put on for the patients on Christmas Eve. She would have imagined a man as handsome and well set up as he appeared, and also training for a serious and respectable career, would not feel happy in such a frivolous production. However, not only did he throw himself into it with great enthusiasm, he seemed to be having as much fun as the audience. She saw with amusement that many of the nurses were gazing at him with more that just admiration in their eyes, and that Paul was either unaware of it, or else giving a very good impression that he was.
He also had a very good tenor singing voice, Carmel discovered, as the staff sang the age-old carols together with the patients. She felt a momentary pang of sympathy for Paul’s younger brother. It must be hard to follow this golden boy, who seemed to have it all, without a certain amount of resentment creeping in, she thought, and that in turn would make him less likeable. Look how Lois had first described them: ‘dishy Paul and annoying Matthew’.
She slipped out after the concert to attend Midnight Mass, having been given an especially late pass for the purpose, feeling the bone-chilling cold seep into her, even on the short walk to St Chad’s, despite the thick coat and scarf she had picked up for a song at the Rag Market.
The Mass had just begun when someone slipped into the pew beside her and, glancing across, she was surprised to see Paul. Carmel felt decidedly uncomfortable all through that Mass, being so close to him and unreasonably resentful that he should spoil her enjoyment of that Christmas service. He seemed unaware of how she felt and he turned and gave her one of his devastating smiles. Even she acknowledged then how truly handsome the man was and saw how the smile made his eyes dance and shine, just as if someone had turned a light on behind them.
That’s it, she thought as she tore her eyes away from Paul, this man is dangerous and the less I have to do with him the better.
When Carmel left the church, with the greetings of Happy Christmas from one to another ringing in her ears, she was nearly lifted off her feet by the power of the wind that brought with it icy rain spears, which stung her face.
‘Link your arm through mine,’ urged Paul, who had suddenly appeared beside her, and as she hesitated he grabbed her arm, tucked it through his and held tight. ‘Come on, be sensible,’ he said when Carmel tried to pull away. ‘This wind could have you over.’
The words had barely left his lips when a sudden gust cannoned into Carmel causing her to stagger and almost fall against Paul. He dropped her arm and instead held her round her shoulders.
‘Lean in to me,’ he said, giving her a little squeeze.
Carmel was well