The Lost Sister by Kathleen McGurl (i can read book club .TXT) 📕

course. I know it wasn’t you, it was all down to that Lucas bloke. Anyway. I’ll tell her myself. Guess I need some forgiveness from her too … for not being there … Anyway, see you, Mum.’ Davina hung up before Harriet had the chance to say anything more, but those last three words seemed to hang in the air like the sweet scent of roses. See you, Mum. She sat down, allowing her tears to fall, and imagining her younger daughter here, in her new home, with Sally, with Jerome and her two granddaughters … a family again. A proper, extended family, just as she’d always dreamed of.

Chapter 30

Lily, 1920

The war was at long last over. The Spanish flu had been and gone. Lily had spent the years since Britannic working in the Royal South Hants hospital once again, caring for repatriated injured servicemen and later, caring for the victims of the flu. Thankfully she had not succumbed herself. But she had been kept very busy throughout – busy was good, as it helped her deal with her losses.

She’d kept the house – the little terraced house she’d grown up in, that still held so many memories of Ma, Emma, and Ruby. With two lodgers – both nurses she worked with – it was easy enough to pay the bills.

And now, she was 21, the war was over, the epidemic had diminished, and Lily found herself to be tired of nursing. She no longer wanted to deal with the sick and dying. She had given her all to the job, and it had taken its toll on her. But what else could she do?

It was in the summer, while she considered alternative careers, that she had an unexpected visitor, one Saturday afternoon. There was a knock at the door, and Lily put down the duster she’d been using, patted her hair and went to answer it.

‘Frank! My word, what a surprise!’

‘Hello Lily. I was in town. Just got off the Olympic, and thought I’d come to see how you are.’

Frank had written to her a few times over the last four years, and she’d written back, courtesy of whichever hospital ship he’d been working on. But she had not seen him since their return to Southampton in early 1917, after the long, mostly overland, journey back from Malta. His family lived in Bristol, and his few breaks between voyages were spent there. And now, here he was on her doorstep!

‘Come in! Excuse the state of me, I was cleaning, but let me make you some tea. And I have some shortbread I made yesterday, if you’d like some?’

‘That would be wonderful,’ he said, following her inside. Her sitting room was in upheaval as she’d been shifting furniture around to clean behind it, so she had no choice but to take him to the kitchen, with more apologies, but his broad grin showed he didn’t mind in the slightest. ‘The kitchen is the heart of the home, I always say. And you’ve a lovely, welcoming one. So, how are things with you? You’re looking well, I must say.’

Lily found herself blushing at this. Frank was as open and charming as ever, and his hair seemed a brighter ginger than before, if that was even possible. The years had made him look older, more grown-up, but as handsome as ever. ‘I’m very well,’ she replied. ‘You’re working on the Olympic now, did you say?’

‘Yes, she’s just gone back into service as a passenger liner after a refit. She’s my favourite ship, so I’m very happy. You’re still nursing? Are you enjoying it?’

Lily sighed and turned away as she poured water from the kettle into the tea pot. ‘Actually, not any more. I’ve been wondering about giving up nursing, though I don’t know what to do instead.’

‘You might work on a liner,’ Frank said. Lily turned back to him and put the tea pot on the table. There was a hopefulness in his gaze.

‘Ah, I’m not sure I could do that. Not after … all that’s happened. Liners have not been kind to this family.’

‘No, of course. I’m sorry. I should not have said it. It’s just … I cannot think of anything I’d like more than to work alongside you again. You know, our old friend Violet Jessop has signed on for the Olympic.’

‘Has she?’ Lily found it easier to respond to his last statement than the earlier one. She’d love to work alongside him too, but could she really return to sea? ‘I would have thought, after surviving both Titanic and Britannic she’d never want to set foot on a boat again.’

‘She says the sea’s in her blood. She’s made of stern stuff, that woman. And she likes the Olympic.’

‘Emma liked it, too.’ Lily fell silent as she poured the tea, imagining what Emma would have done, if it had been she who survived Britannic instead. She’d have done as Violet had, Lily concluded. She’d have gone back to sea, signing on with the Olympic. She’d loved life on board ships so much.

‘I wish I’d had the chance to know Emma better,’ Frank said. ‘She was a remarkable woman.’

‘She saved my life.’

‘I know.’

They’d had this conversation several times over the last few years – while travelling home, and then by letter. Lily had always thought it implied that Frank might have wanted to become closer to Emma if she’d lived. But now, here he was, sitting in her kitchen, and he’d said something about working alongside her again. She eyed him over the rim of her teacup. That twinkle was still in his eyes, undimmed by the war years. She liked him too. She always had, and their shared experiences, plus the years of letters, had confirmed this and brought them closer. She’d thought of him as Emma’s, but maybe … he could be hers? If she could bring herself to apply for a job on the Olympic – taking up where Emma left off. It wouldn’t be