Read The Nightingale Nurses for Free Online Page A

busy day ahead of us, and I certainly don’t need nurses slacking.’
    Slacking! Dora wanted to shout at her retreating back. It wasn’t even eight o’clock, and she had already been soaked with more blood than she liked to think about.
    But Sister Percival was already off, addressing an old woman huddled in a corner. ‘You there! I hope you’re not thinking of sleeping here?’
    Dora returned to the nurses’ home to change, then headed back to Casualty. No sooner had she walked in through the double doors than the nurse behind the desk summoned her over.
    ‘There you are,’ she said. ‘Percy was looking for you. One of the patients has vomited in Consulting Room Three, and she wants you to clean it up.’
    ‘Oh, no!’ Dora looked down at her clean apron and groaned.
    The nurse smiled sympathetically. ‘You’ll get through a lot of clean uniforms in this department, I’m afraid.’
    ‘Is it always like this?’
    ‘Oh, it gets a lot worse than this, believe me. Sunday is usually a quiet day.’ The nurse was a couple of years older than Dora, with a long, solemn face and heavy lidded grey-green eyes. The hair that peeped out from under her cap was the deep gold of honey. ‘It’s a bit busier at the moment because Dr Adler, the other emergency doctor, is away at a conference in Switzerland, delivering some learned paper or other. He should be back in a week or two, I think.’ Her voice was a slow drawl. ‘As long as you keep on the right side of old Percy, you should be all right.’
    ‘And how do I do that?’
    ‘By doing everything twice as fast as she asks you to do it, and making sure you never let anyone sleep in here. Percy’s got a real thing about it. They come in here a lot, poor old things, especially when it’s raining. But Percy thinks they make the place look untidy.’ She smiled at Dora. ‘I’m Willard, by the way.’
    She couldn’t have been more different from Sister Percival if she’d tried. Where Percival fizzed with energy, Willard was languid and graceful. Dora couldn’t imagine her doing anything at any speed, let alone twice as fast.
    For the rest of the morning, Dora was kept busy. While Willard draped herself behind the counter, taking down the names of people as they arrived and managing them on a list in order of urgency, and Sister Percival prowled around the waiting room, making sure no patients died or, worse still, fell asleep while they were waiting, Dora and two first-years assisted Dr McKay in the consulting rooms. She cleaned wounds, changed dressings, applied hot flannels for shock, gave emetics and held hands. At other times she filled in paperwork, organised the transfer of patients up to the various wards, or got on her hands and knees and scrubbed up blood, vomit and all manner of other unpleasant things from the white-tiled walls and floor of the consulting room before the next patient arrived. It was astonishing how quickly she got used to the stench and the mess. She could hardly believe she’d turned so queasy at the sight of Mr Gannon’s arm that morning.
    And when Dora wasn’t cleaning, or bandaging, or listening to the ward sisters carping about how they couldn’t possibly accept another patient on their hideously overcrowded ward, she was fending off Nurse Willard’s chatter.
    The only thing Penny Willard did with any energy was to talk. Every time Dora skimmed past the booking-in desk, she would start again.
    ‘I’m so glad to have someone my age to talk to at last,’ she gushed, when Dora passed by on her way to collect another patient’s notes. ‘Percy’s not a bad old stick, but she’s ancient. And all she ever wants to talk about is her latest hiking holiday. Honestly, don’t let her start telling you about the Peak District, because she’ll never stop.’ She rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’
    Dora stared down at the notes she’d picked up. ‘No,’ she said quietly.
    Penny sighed. ‘Me neither. It’s so