Read The Nightingale Girls for Free Online

perfume.

Chapter Four
    DORA’S FIRST IMPRESSION of the Home Sister was that she had never seen anyone so fat in her life. Sister Sutton was about five foot tall and almost as wide. She filled the doorway of the nurses’ home, her grey uniform stretched to bursting over a formidable shelf of a bosom. Her head seemed to be connected to her body by a cascade of quivering chins. Even her ankles were fat, spilling over her stout black shoes.
    ‘You there!’ She waddled towards Dora at surprising speed, trundling as if she were on wheels. Grey wisps of hair escaped from her starched cap. Behind her scampered a yapping terrier.
    ‘I saw you,’ she accused, pointing a fat finger straight between Dora’s eyes. ‘Canoodling with that porter.’
    ‘I wasn’t canoodling with anyone!’
    ‘Don’t lie to me, girl, I saw you with my own eyes. Quiet, Sparky!’ she roared at the dog, who was circling Dora’s legs, his lips drawn back to show yellow teeth. ‘I was watching you from my office. You are a disgrace. I have a good mind to send you straight home and inform Matron of your conduct. This is not what we expect of our student nurses here at the Nightingale.’
    Blimey, Dora thought. It’s my first day, I haven’t even set foot in the place and I’m already in trouble.
    ‘I was only asking him for directions,’ she protested.
    ‘Do you think I’m a simpleton, girl?’
    ‘No, but—’
    ‘And please address me as “Sister” when you speak to me.’
    ‘No, Sister.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I mean, no, I don’t think you’re a simpleton. Sister.’
    ‘I’m glad to hear it. I wish I could say the same about you. What is your name?’
    ‘Dora Doyle, Miss. I mean, Sister.’
    ‘Are you Irish?’
    ‘No, Sister.’ Sparky lunged at her ankle. Dora sidestepped his snapping jaws and fought the urge to kick the wretched thing.
    ‘I’m glad to hear it. Irish girls are always far too much trouble. Man-mad the lot of them.’ She considered Dora for a moment. ‘I hope I’m not going to have any trouble with you?’
    ‘No, Sister.’
    ‘You see I don’t, or you will be straight to Matron’s office. I don’t put up with any nonsense from young nurses.’ She suddenly turned on her heel and trundled back towards the nurses’ home. Dora guessed she was supposed to go with her, so she picked up her battered suitcase and followed, being careful to keep a safe distance between herself and the bad-tempered dog.
    The gleaming lino floors squeaked under Dora’s feet as she followed Sister Sutton through the warren of corridors, all painted a drab brown. The whole building was eerily silent, and full of gloomy shadows.
    The Home Sister led the way up to the top of the house, where the staircase became so narrow she could hardly squeeze her ample body up it. Dora puffed along behind, not daring to stop to draw breath.
    As Sister Sutton went, she recited a litany of rules and regulations.
    ‘Lights out is at ten o’clock sharp, and you are expected to be back in the nurses’ home by then unless you have a late pass. Although why any respectable girl would want to be out after that time I have no idea,’ she said. ‘Laundry day is Monday; in the morning you must strip off your bed and put your sheets and towels in the bags at the end of the corridor. Personal items are to be put in your own laundry bag and left out for collection on Tuesdays and Thursdays. While a probationer, you must not leave the hospital grounds in uniform. And while in uniform you will behave with the decorum that befits the good name of this hospital. Which means no make-up or jewellery, no laughing, no speaking loudly, and strictly no talking to men. Is that understood?’
    Dora nodded, but she was beginning to wonder if she would ever remember all the rules of the nurses’ home, let alone take in any medical knowledge.
    Sister Sutton stopped so suddenly Dora almost collided with her, and threw open a door to reveal a long attic room with three