Nightingales on Call (25 page)

Everyone was saddened by the news, but no one was surprised. Bobby Turner had never really stood a chance. They’d all done their best for him, with injections of mercury and then Salvarsan. But in spite of their efforts, little Bobby had simply wasted away before their eyes, his joints horribly swollen by the infantile syphilis that had eaten away his frail little body.

‘He has been moved to side room four,’ Sister Parry said calmly. ‘Jennings, I want you to take everything away for washing and sterilising. The cot must be stripped right down and scrubbed before it’s used again, do you understand? And Elliott, I want you to help Doyle with last offices.’

‘M-Me, Sister?’ The junior looked stricken.

‘Yes, Elliott. It will be good experience for you to observe it being done.’

Dora watched Elliott as Sister Parry handed out the rest of that morning’s worklists. The poor girl’s face was grey against the starched white of her cap. Good experience or not, it seemed a harsh thing to do to her, after the shock she’d had.

When Sister Parry had finished her report, the nurses went their separate ways to set about their work. Dora went into side room four where little Bobby lay on the bed, covered by a top sheet. The blinds had been drawn. She stood for a moment, her hands folded as she murmured a quick prayer for the dear little soul to find a peace he had never known in this world.

The door opened and Elliott came in, pushing the trolley laden with soap, flannels, scissors, brushes, cotton wool and water.

‘I – I wasn’t sure whether to bring a comb,’ she said shakily, her gaze fixed on the trolley. ‘I’ve only ever practised setting a trolley like this before, and never for an infant . . .’

Dora glanced over the items on the trolley. ‘You’ve done very well,’ she said.

‘Th-Thank you, Nurse.’

Dora watched her as she pushed the trolley into the room, her face still averted from the bed. ‘Elliott?’ she said gently.

The junior looked up at her, and Dora saw tears running down her ashen cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, Nurse,’ she whispered. ‘I know I’m being an absolute fool, but—’

‘It’s all right,’ Dora comforted her. ‘It’s always a shock, the first time.’

‘I wish I hadn’t been the one to find him.’ The words bubbled out of the girl as if she could hold them back no longer. ‘I w-was only doing a favour for the night nurse, because she had a headache and wanted to go off duty early. If only I hadn’t offered to help . . .’ She drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

‘I know.’ As Dora patted the girl’s shoulder, could feel the tension trembling through her body as she fought to hold back tears.

‘It seems such a shame.’ Elliott sniffed. ‘Do you think he was in much pain? You know, before he—’

Dora shook her head. ‘You mustn’t let yourself think like that.’

‘He had no chance, did he? Born to a mother like that. Do you know, she didn’t come in to see him once, not since he was admitted? Just dumped him here and went off, so Staff Nurse Ryan said. I wonder if she’ll bother to come to his funeral?’

I doubt it, Dora thought. Bobby’s mother was probably back on the docks by now, turning tricks for sailors, her baby long forgotten.

‘We’d best get on with this,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you’re up to it?’

Elliott nodded, sniffing back her tears. ‘You’re right, we need to get on,’ she said bracingly. But as she went to soak the flannel, her hand was shaking so much she dropped the soap, splashing water everywhere.

‘I’m so sorry, Nurse.’ She reached down to clear it up and knocked the scissors off the trolley. They went skittering across the linoleum floor.

Dora sighed. ‘I think it’s probably better if you leave this to me,’ she said kindly. ‘It’s all right, I can manage on my own.’

Elliott stared back at her, terrified and grateful at the same time. ‘But Sister said I had to . . .’

‘Sister Parry is dealing with a new admission. She won’t know anything about it.’ Dora smiled kindly at Elliott. ‘Go to the kitchen and compose yourself for a minute or two. You won’t be any use to us if you’re at sixes and sevens all day.’

‘Thank you, Nurse.’ Elliott hurried out of the room, tripping headlong over the trolley in her desperate haste to escape.

Dora washed little Bobby, then dressed him in the knitted baby clothes they kept in the linen cupboard for this kind of occasion. She took the flowers she’d brought from the sluice and arranged them in his hands.

She was fastening the ribbons on his bootees when Sister Parry’s voice rang out.

‘Doyle! What are you doing?’

Dora turned round. Sister’s plump shape filled the doorway to the side ward. ‘Why isn’t Elliott helping you as I asked?’

‘I told her I could manage alone, Sister.’

‘Oh, you did, did you?’ Sister Parry’s eyes hardened. ‘Tell me, Doyle, have you been promoted to Matron recently?’

‘No, Sister.’ Dora squared her shoulders, bracing herself for what she knew was to come.

‘No, and yet you feel you have the right to overrule my specific instructions.’

Colour burned in her face. ‘She was upset, Sister.’

‘She’s even more upset now, I can assure you. I’ve sent her to Matron.’

Dora gasped. ‘But it wasn’t her fault!’

‘No, it wasn’t,’ Sister Parry agreed. ‘It was entirely
your
fault, Doyle. But perhaps in future Nurse Elliott will learn not to listen when you start giving orders.’ Sister Parry took a step towards Dora, so she could see the angry tightness of her mouth. ‘I gave Elliott this task for a reason. I know she was upset, but she needs to learn to rein in her emotions if she is to become a good nurse. She won’t have a soft-hearted senior there every time she sees a dead body.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with having a soft heart, Sister.’

Sister Parry’s eyes widened with shock. ‘Are you arguing with me, Doyle?’

Every inch of Dora was telling her not to do it. Apologise, the voice inside her head said. Say sorry, hang your head and hope for the best.

But she couldn’t. Not this time. Sister Parry had picked on her too often.

She lifted her head and met the ward sister’s eye.

‘Yes, Sister,’ she said. ‘I am.’

Dora hadn’t been summoned before Matron in ages, and she had forgotten how terrifying it was, stepping into the book-lined office. Matron sat behind her desk, her black-clad figure tall and very straight against the sunshine that flooded in through the window behind her.

‘Well, Doyle?’ she said softly. ‘Sister Parry has told me what happened. Perhaps you would care to explain yourself?’

Shaking with nerves, Dora tried to put her side of the story as clearly as she could. Matron listened intently, her steady grey gaze never leaving Dora’s face.

‘I see,’ she said, when Dora had finished. ‘Well, I can tell you only acted to spare a junior’s feelings.’ But just as Dora was allowing herself to relax, Matron went on, ‘Nevertheless, you were wrong to act as you did. For this hospital to function properly, everyone has to know their place. You have to learn to take orders, even if you don’t agree with them, and especially if you don’t feel like obeying.’ She clasped her hands together on the desktop. ‘What do you think would happen if everyone followed your example and did what they wanted, rather than what they had been told to do? If a probationer decided that instead of cleaning the bedpans as was necessary, she would go off and arrange some flowers instead? No one would have any authority and nothing would get done. The ward would be in chaos in no time. Don’t you agree?’

It wasn’t a question, Dora knew that. She might have been foolish enough to argue with a ward sister, but no one argued with Matron. If she said it was raining outside, everyone put up their umbrellas.

‘Yes, Matron,’ she mumbled.

‘You will miss your next day off as punishment,’ Matron said, making a note in her ledger. ‘I want you to apologise to Sister Parry immediately, and make sure there is no repetition of this. If I have cause to reprimand you over such a matter again, it will be the last time. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Matron.’

Dora trailed back to the ward, already practising her apology in her head. But it wasn’t the thought of saying sorry to Sister Parry that she dreaded so much as the smug look she knew would be on Lucy Lane’s face when she did it.

But the only expression on Lucy’s face was a deep scowl. She whisked past Dora into the kitchen, banging the door behind her.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Dora whispered to Daphne Anderson, who was stacking up dirty dishes on the trolley, ready for washing up.

‘She’s just had some bad news,’ Daphne replied. ‘How did it go with Matron, by the way? Was she truly awful?’

‘You know Matron. She can make you feel like a worm just by looking at you. I have to apologise to Sister Parry anyway.’ Dora rolled her eyes. ‘At least we’ll be seeing the back of each other in a few days. I don’t know which of us will be more relieved.’ She caught Daphne’s smirking expression. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘I’ve got some bad news for you, too,’ Daphne said. ‘You know Staff Nurse Ryan was sent to the sick bay earlier? Well, it turns out she has suspected Scarlet Fever.’

Dora’s stomach dropped. ‘And?’ she said, although she already knew the answer to that one.

‘And Sister Parry can’t afford to lose any experienced students. Miss Hanley has just been up to tell her that you, me and Lane are staying on here until our State Finals.’ Daphne grinned. ‘You’d best hurry up with that apology, Doyle. It looks as if you and Sister are stuck with each other for another three months!’

IT WAS SISTER
Sutton’s day off, and she was preparing for it like a military operation.

Jess had never known the Home Sister have a day off, but a former nurse friend of hers had been taken ill, so she and Sister Parker were going down to the south coast to visit her.

Sister Sutton had been going on about it for days, fussing about catching her train, and how she was going to get to and from the station. Every morning when Jess took her breakfast in, she would find a stack of railway timetables on her bedside table.

And when she wasn’t fussing about her journey, she was fretting about leaving Jess in charge.

‘The windows will need cleaning, and don’t forget to polish the floors.’ She bustled around the nurses’ home, pointing out all the jobs that needed doing in her absence. She looked very different out of uniform, dressed in an old-fashioned tweed coat in spite of the warmth of the July day. ‘And I want you to keep an eye on the students, too. Miss Hanley has kindly offered to take charge of the office while I’m away, but I want you to keep me informed of any misdemeanours.’

‘Yes, Sister.’

‘And don’t forget to clean that brasswork and take the lampshades down for washing.’

‘Blimey, how could I forget? You’ve already told me a dozen times!’

Jess’ muttered comment was barely louder than a breath, but Sister Sutton still heard it.

‘Yes, and I’ll tell you another dozen times if I have to!’ she snapped.

It was a relief when Sister Parker arrived to collect her friend. She was a gentle-looking elderly lady, as petite as Sister Sutton was bulky, with white hair and pebble-lensed spectacles. Jess couldn’t imagine why all the students were so utterly terrified of her.

‘Are you ready, Miss Sutton?’ Her Scottish accent was soft and pleasant.

‘I think so, Miss Parker.’ Sister Sutton adjusted her shapeless hat in the hall mirror. ‘I’ll just fetch Sparky’s lead . . .’

‘Surely you can’t think you’re going to take that dog with us?’ Sister Parker shook her head. ‘I’m afraid they won’t allow him in the convalescent home.’

Sister Sutton’s jowly face quivered. ‘Why not?’

‘I know you dote on your little dog, Miss Sutton, but not everyone likes them. Some people find them rather – unhygienic.’

From the look in her blue eyes, Jess guessed Sister Parker was one of them.

Sister Sutton looked down at the terrier sitting at her feet. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Then I won’t go either.’ She started unbuttoning her coat.

‘Oh, but you have to!’ Jess blurted out, then felt herself redden as she caught Sister Sutton’s eye. ‘Your friend will be so disappointed,’ she added.

‘She’s quite right,’ Sister Parker agreed. ‘Besides, we’ve bought the train tickets.’

‘But I can’t leave Sparky by himself.’ Sister Sutton looked near to tears at the prospect.

‘I’ll look after him,’ Jess offered.

‘You? Look after Sparky?’ Sister Sutton looked horrified at the very idea. ‘Oh, no, I don’t think so.’

‘But he’s used to me,’ Jess reasoned. ‘And I’ve been taking him for walks in the park, haven’t I?’

To prove her point, she reached down to pet Sparky, who promptly snapped at her fingers. Treacherous little beast, Jess thought.

‘Well, I think it sounds like a very sensible suggestion,’ Sister Parker said briskly.

‘But what if he gets upset without me?’

‘For heaven’s sake, it’s only a wee dog!’

‘I’ll take very good care of him,’ Jess cut in, as Sister Sutton looked upset. ‘It’s only for a few hours, and your friend will be ever so disappointed if you don’t visit.’ And I won’t be able to help Effie revise, she added silently.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Sister Sutton’s heavy sigh set her chins wobbling. ‘I shall at least give him a biscuit before I leave.’

As she went off, Jess and Sister Parker exchanged long-suffering looks. It was hard to tell which of them was more relieved.

Jess worked hard throughout the morning, racing through her duties – which were a lot easier without Sister Sutton following her around, picking holes in everything she did. Although with Sparky trotting after her, watching her closely, it felt as if he’d become his mistress’ eyes and ears.

‘Yes, I am getting into the corners,’ Jess muttered, as he sat watching her clean the window, his head tilted on one side. Then she laughed. ‘Listen to me! I’ll be as daft as Sister Sutton soon, talking to you as if you’re human.’ She pointed her cloth at him. ‘Don’t you dare go telling her I said that, all right?’

When Jess had finished all her chores, she tidied herself up and went to Effie’s room to help her revise. She was waiting for Jess as usual, her textbooks spread out on the bed.