The Nightingale Girls Read Online Free

with thick black hair, a broad face and bright blue eyes.
    Bea ran to him, Little Alfie toddling behind her, and he scooped them up easily, one under each arm.
    ‘We’re celebrating.’ Rose’s face lit up at the sight of her husband. ‘Dora’s got a place to train as a nurse.’
    ‘Is that right?’ Alf turned to face her, the two children still wriggling under his arms. ‘Aren’t you the clever one?’
    ‘But she’s got to leave home and move away forever,’ Josie put in.
    ‘Has she now? I don’t remember anyone asking me if that was all right,’ he frowned.
    ‘You can’t stop me,’ Dora’s chin lifted defiantly.
    ‘I can do what I like until you’re twenty-one, my girl.’
    Their eyes met, clashing in mute challenge.
    ‘He’s only teasing,’ her mother broke the tense silence. ‘Your dad would never stop you bettering yourself.’
    ‘He’s not my dad.’
    ‘I still say what goes.’
    Not for much longer, Dora was about to say. Then she caught the pleading look in her mother’s eyes and kept silent.
    ‘We should celebrate,’ Nanna suggested. ‘I dunno about you, but I reckon a nice bottle of stout would go down a treat.’
    ‘Good idea,’ Rose said brightly. ‘What do you say, Alf?’
    All eyes turned to him. Still glaring at Dora, he lowered Bea and Little Alfie to the ground and dug into his pocket.
    ‘Not seeing your miserable boat race around here would be a cause for celebration, I s’pose.’ He pulled out a handful of change. ‘Josie, go to the chippie. Fish and chips all round, I reckon.’
    ‘But I’ve made a stew!’ Nanna Winnie protested.
    Alf grimaced. ‘All the more reason to get fish and chips, then.’
    ‘Can I have a saveloy?’ Bea asked.
    ‘You can have anything you like, my darlin’, as long as it keeps you quiet.’
    Dora watched her mother as she followed him inside.At forty-two years old, Rose was still a beautiful woman. Her dark hair was threaded with grey but no one would ever have guessed her slim figure had brought six children into the world.
    ‘I wish you wouldn’t talk back to him like that,’ Nanna said to Dora as they went back inside. ‘Alf’s not a bad bloke. And he makes your mum happy. She deserves that, after everything she’s been through.’
    Dora knew her mum hadn’t had much to smile about over the years. Widowed at thirty-two with five children, she had struggled to bring up her family on her own. She’d had to work all hours, cleaning offices and taking in mending for the local laundry.
    And then, when Dora was thirteen, Alf Doyle had come into their lives. He didn’t look like anyone’s idea of a knight in shining armour, with his big lumbering body and hands like ham hocks. But he had certainly rescued Rose Doyle and her kids.
    A gentle giant, everyone called him. He worked as a van driver on the railways. Not the best-paid job in the world, but it was steady and at least he didn’t have to line up with the other men at the dock gates every morning, looking for work.
    Everyone said Rose was lucky. After all, it wasn’t every man who would take on a widow and all those children. But Alf loved the kids as if they were his own. He took them all on outings to the coast and the countryside and the boating lake at Victoria Park, treated them to sweets and ice creams and all kinds of other delights.
    Dora couldn’t have hated him more if she’d tried.
    By the time Josie returned with the food, they’d warmed the plates and were crowded around the table. The hot fried rock salmon and chips was a lot better than Nanna Winnie’s notoriously inedible stew, especially when Dorawas allowed the batter scraps soaked in salt and vinegar to celebrate her big achievement.
    ‘Don’t suppose they’ll be feeding you like this in that nurses’ home!’ Rose said.
    ‘It’s hard work, from what I hear,’ Alf mumbled through a mouthful of chips.
    ‘I’m not afraid of hard work,’ Dora said.
    ‘A bit of hard work never hurt anyone.’