Applause (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 2) Madalyn Morgan (chromebook ebook reader txt) 📖

‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ Margot said.

‘I’ll see that she does,’ Bill said. He turned to Margot. ‘Got everything, love?’

‘Yes.’ She looked at the clock on the wall above her bed. ‘It’s almost six. If we don’t go now, there’ll be a dozen newspaper reporters outside.’ Bill helped her to the wheelchair and settled her into it. ‘Thank you for all you’ve done for me,’ she said, offering her hand to the doctor, and taking in the nurse.

Smiling, he leaned forward and took Margot’s hand in his. ‘It has been a pleasure, Miss Dudley.’ Then, standing up straight, he turned and said, ‘We’ll miss her, won’t we, nurse?’

‘That we will, doctor. It will be very dull around here without her.’

Tears pricked the back of Margot’s eyes and she swallowed hard. The slightest show of kindness made her emotional. ‘And don’t forget,’ the doctor said, ‘plenty of rest. Your legs are beginning to heal. Your ankle will take longer, but in time, if you take care--’

In time? Margot wondered if in time she would be able to accept Nancy’s death. And if in time the horror of that terrible day would stop playing out in her dreams. She wondered if the guilt that twisted and wrung the nerves in her stomach would ever lessen. She knew she couldn’t have saved Nancy, but knowing didn’t help-- Margot realised the doctor was still speaking. ‘Sorry?’

‘Try to get away for a week or two. Get out of London. Go to the country; fill your lungs with fresh air – it’ll help you sleep.’ Margot nodded. ‘And when you return come and see me.’

‘Thank you, I will.’

Bill shook the doctor’s hand before picking up the suitcases and following the nurse as she pushed Margot out of the room and along the corridor.

Before leaving the hospital Margot put on dark glasses and a headscarf.

Bill opened a fire door leading to a side street at the back of the building and the nurse whisked Margot through it. The rubble-strewn road was empty except for Anton Goldman’s black Rover. Anton jumped out and opened the back passenger door – and while Bill lifted Margot into the car, Anton put her bags in the boot.

As they turned onto Westminster Bridge, Margot saw several newspaper reporters standing outside the small café opposite. They had their hands clasped around tea and coffee cups, laughing and joking, but they were all facing the hospital’s main entrance. Ready to drop everything and run across the road, Margot thought. Eyes fixed on the front of the hospital, they didn’t notice the Rover cruise past.

Whitehall and Trafalgar Square were relatively traffic free and they made good time. On the Strand, however, a lorry offloading panes of glass outside the Prince Albert Theatre had caused a bottleneck in the traffic. As they waited for a break in the oncoming traffic, Margot heard Anton sigh. Bill looked out of the window on his side of the car and focused on the shops. He tried to engage Margot in conversation, but she wasn’t listening.

As tears streamed down her face, Margot looked out of the nearside window. Except that the windows of the theatre had been boarded up there was no evidence of the bomb that killed--

Margot looked ahead and closed her eyes. Bill squeezed her hand, but said nothing.

Bill and Margot sat on the settee like bookends, Bill reading his newspapers and Margot her magazines. ‘My leave ends on Sunday. It’s back to the grind next week but…’

‘Mmmm? But what?’

‘But I don’t want to leave you on your own. The cuts on your legs are almost healed, but your ankle is still--’

‘A mess?’ Margot leant forwards and pulled up the right leg of her slacks. ‘I’m not sure I’d capture the heart of Rhett Butler showing him this ankle, but at least you can’t see the bone now,’ she laughed. ‘So go back to work and don’t worry,’ she said, throwing a cushion at him. ‘My ankle’s healing.’

‘But you’re not sleeping.’

‘I’ve done nothing but sleep!’

‘No you haven’t, Margot. I’ve woken up several times recently and you haven’t been in bed.’

‘So what?’ Margot dropped her magazine on the occasional table with a sigh. ‘It isn’t going to make any difference to me sleeping at night if you’re working in the day, is it? Or even if you do a few shifts on the ambulances?’ Bill opened his mouth to protest. ‘I’ll be fine! I promise I won’t slide down any banister unless you’re at the bottom to catch me.’

‘It isn’t a laughing matter, Margot!’

‘I know… Oh, come on, Bill.’ Margot shuffled sideways until she was sitting right next to him. She smoothed the worry lines on his forehead with her thumb. ‘Anyway, Monday’s three days away.’ She slowly pushed herself up and stood in front of him. ‘Look! My ankle is almost better. It doesn’t hurt half as much when I put my weight on it. I don’t need the stick, but you keep telling me I’ve got to use it.’

‘Yes, you have!’

‘And I will! Bossy old...’ she muttered.

‘I heard that,’ Bill said, picking up his newspaper.

‘I know,’ Margot said, sitting down and picking up her magazine. Giggling, she flicked through the pages until she found the article she’d been reading. A few minutes later, she laid it on her lap. ‘You know, I wouldn’t mind some time on my own without you fussing over me. So you can go back to work if you want to.’

‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’

‘Yes! Back to work with you, husband.’

Bill laughed. ‘I’m not going back until I have to.’

‘Good. We’ll have