Read It Shouldn't Happen to a Midwife! for Free Online

of a jolly hostess. Slipping the bottle in her pocket she greeted Miss Harvey with enthusiasm. ‘Top o’ the morn! I’ve just been asking these girls if they’d like to be your guinea pigs,’ she nodded at the two left in bed. They didn’t look too happy.
    â€˜I expect you met the Prof.?’ She slapped her battleship sides and sighed. ‘I’m afraid he was a bit abrupt with them. You know how he can be.’
    Miss Harvey cast her eyebrows and gave a laconic, ‘True.’ A word especially suited to a Scot’s accent and making the Irish girls snigger.
    Sister Uprichard continued, unperturbed. ‘So I was delighted you and your rookies were coming. You’ll be sure to make them feel useful as well as taking their minds off him saying they’re lucky to be here.’ She gave a vast chuckle gesturing at the ward’s peeling plaster, faded curtains and drab lino. ‘Lucky!’
    Long windows gave out onto the blank walls of the general hospital, and from somewhere not far away, plumbing sounds emanated with a clank and splash. Yet, despite these dingy surroundings, the place was full of bright chat.
    â€˜Ach, Sister, you’ve got it like a holiday camp, it feels so free an’ easy,’ said one girl waving the air to let her nail varnish dry. ‘I can’t think why Staff ’s taking us away to relaxation classes when we could be enjoying the craic here.’ In an exhaust of California Poppy scent, she joined the others, a fleet of tug boats chugging past.
    â€˜Better for me but up to you,’ Sister said, starting to pull the curtains round the bed of our first patient. ‘You’ll be running soon enough. But be sure and come back. A wee bird told me some of you sneaked out the other night and came back the worse of the wear. It’s no wonder we’ve confiscated your outdoor clothes. Locked them away until you’re ready to go home.’
    â€˜Ah now, Sister, you wouldn’t want to be depriving us of a bit of fun would ye?’
    â€˜Yes I would – especially if you didn’t ask me to come along and chaperone you.’
    The girl chuckled, ‘A bit late for that!’ and hurried to catch up with the others.
    â€˜Girls!’ sighed Sister Uprichard and turned to a very young redhead. ‘Now poor Mrs Campbell here’s not thinking of going anywhere with her first baby making her a martyr to sickness. We’ve had to take her in to stop her from getting run down. A change of environment is meant to be part of the cure, but as you’ll see she’s taken a florist’s shop with her.’
    Apart from the chrome sickness bowl taking up space on her locker there were flowers crowded into every possible area, their splashes of colour in bright contrast to the girl’s ashen face.
    â€˜My, but somebody must think you’re special.’ Miss Harvey nodded at a photograph stuck behind the sickness bowl. ‘And would that be your husband?’
    The handsome fellow leaning against the tractor could have been an advertisement for toothpaste or the joys of agriculture.
    The girl gave an indifferent shrug and a pout so eloquent I thought I might practise one like it as soon as I found a mirror.
    â€˜That’s William. And he wouldn’t be half as cheerful if he was having this baby.’ She started to retch, tiny shrew-like hands blindly searching for the bowl just out of reach.
    â€˜Quick, Nurse Smythe, help her.’
    Cynthia did, looking horrified as vomit splattered her apron whilst at the same time a doctor stuck his head round the screen.
    â€˜Sorry to bother you but d’you mind if I take some blood, Denise?’
    He was tall with sleepy eyes which might have explained the lack of observational skills but Miss Harvey made him register with an irritated, ‘This is definitely not a good time, Doctor, so if you want to do something really useful you could take Nurse