Two for Sorrow Read Online Free

Miss Bannerman—or Celia, as she had tried to get used to calling her—had become one of the most respected figures in nursing administration and was heavily involved in the management of the club. She had certainly come a long way since her earlier job as a warder at Holloway, but it was those years that interested Josephine now.
    â€˜I was just going to leave a message for you at reception,’ Celia said, ‘but you’ve saved me the trouble. Your note said that you’ve got something for me to read?’
    â€˜Yes, the first draft of what we discussed the other day. I wondered if you’d have a look at it, just to make sure it’s reasonably accurate—and I have a few more questions, if you’ve time.’
    â€˜Yes, of course.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I’m free now for a while, if that suits you? Shall we say in fifteen minutes’ time, just to give you a chance to catch your breath? I’ll see you in the drawing room.’
    She walked back into the lounge without waiting for an answer, and Josephine recognised the same confidence in her own authority that had earned Miss Bannerman the respect of all her students—respect tinged with just the right amount of fear. She had seen that authority falter only once, and then just briefly and under exceptional circumstances, and it never failed to bring out the schoolgirl in her. She headed for the stairs again like a straggler late for lessons, but was stopped once more in her tracks, this time by Miss Timpson. ‘Oh Miss Tey, I nearly forgot—don’t go upstairs without this,’ she called, and at the higher volume her East End vowels were satisfyingly evident. ‘It arrived for you earlier this afternoon.’ She bent down to pick something up from the floor behind the desk and presented Josephine with an expensive-looking ornamental gardenia. Josephine held out her hand for the card.
    â€˜Sorry—that’s it. There’s no note.’
    â€˜Are you sure it’s for me?’
    â€˜Oh yes. The boy from the shop was very particular. I had to sign for it.’
    â€˜But no one knows I’m here.’
    â€˜Then perhaps you have an admirer on the inside, darling.’ There was no need to turn round to see where the suggestion came from: the voice—warm, attractive and full of innuendo—was an established feature of the Cowdray Club, as familiar to its members as the decor and just as expensive. The Honourable Geraldine Ashby fell into an unusual category of membership: neither nurse nor professional, she was one of a handful of women who were elected to the club at the discretion of the council and whose purpose was purely social. Geraldine’s mother was more than happy to secure the position each yearwith a generous cheque to the College of Nursing—after all, the association was the most respectable thing about her daughter—and Geraldine took her social responsibilities as seriously as the other members took their work. No one could deny that she livened things up considerably, and not just because she mixed the finest cocktails outside the Savoy: everything about her was daring, and that made a refreshing change from the cloud of earnestness that hung over so much of the club. It was impossible not to be drawn to her charm and good humour, and her beauty—a chic, adventurous beauty—sparkled as effortlessly in a tailored suit as it did in the latest Chanel. Forgetting for a moment the young girl on her arm—a pretty if rather dull-looking blonde—Geraldine smiled wickedly at Josephine. ‘Just think—it could be any one of us. Who would you like it to be from?’
    Experience had taught Josephine that a suitable response—flirtatious, with just the right amount of disdain—would only come to her later that evening, so she didn’t bother to reply but picked up the flower with what she hoped was an enigmatic smile and