The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,24

hospital legend.

‘During the final practical test, I had to demonstrate a soap enema solution,’ she said.

‘And?’

‘And I did it very well. I got it all right until the last minute, and then—’

‘Go on.’

She closed her eyes, shuddering at the memory. ‘It wasn’t my fault. The wretched syringe just sort of exploded in my hands. It went off all over the place. The poor examiner was covered.’

‘You didn’t!’ Dora put her hand over her mouth.

‘I did.’ Millie nodded. ‘It wouldn’t have been so bad if the examiner hadn’t been Sister Hyde.’

‘Who’s she?’

‘She runs the Female Chronic ward here. A real dragon, everyone is simply terrified of her. And with good reason, too. If it had been down to her, I would have been straight out of Nightingale’s after that exam. But luckily Matron gave me another chance. I don’t think Sister Hyde was very pleased about it.’

Dora laughed. ‘You’re a card, d’you know that?’

Millie smiled back. She was used to people laughing at her. And she didn’t mind Dora doing it if it meant they could be friends.

As they walked back to the practical room, Dora said suddenly, ‘I don’t mind, you know. If you want me to swap with her?’

‘Who?’

‘Your friend Lane. I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it?’ She didn’t look at Millie as she spoke. ‘You two have got such a lot in common—’

‘Are you saying I’m a horrible little snob? Thanks a lot!’

‘No, but—’

Millie stopped in the corridor, forcing Dora to turn and look at her. ‘Promise me you won’t even think about leaving me with her?’ she said solemnly. ‘I don’t think I could cope with her droning on about how rich and clever she is.’

Dora didn’t say any more until they’d reached the practical room. ‘So you don’t mind sharing a room with me, then?’

‘That depends,’ Millie said.

‘On what?’

‘On whether you’re going to give me the silent treatment like Tremayne all the time.’

Dora smiled reluctantly. ‘I’ll try not to. Although it’s difficult to get a word in edgeways with you!’

‘I know,’ Millie sighed. ‘My grandmother always says I should try to maintain a dignified silence, but I can’t.’

They made sure they sat together at supper. Grey mince and hard-boiled potatoes again, Millie thought. She tried not to imagine the succulent roast her father and grandmother would be sitting down to at Billinghurst.

A group of second-year students were whispering at the next table. Planning a party, Millie guessed, smiling to herself. Sister Sutton might think she had them all under control, raiding their rooms and prowling the corridors with that wretched dog of hers, sniffing out their misdeeds. Not to mention Mr Hopkins and his army of porters standing guard at the hospital gates. But they would have been astonished at how much mischief went on right under their noses.

‘But it seems so mean not to ask her,’ one of the students was saying.

‘If you ask her, no one else will come,’ another said. ‘They’ll all be too scared she’ll tell her mother. She wouldn’t come anyway. She never joins in with anything. All she ever wants to do is stay in her room and study.’

‘It sounds as if they’re talking about Tremayne?’ Millie said to Dora.

‘That girl Hollins warned me about her last night,’ Dora said, refilling her mug with cocoa. ‘She said she wasn’t to be trusted. But she seems all right to me. A bit quiet, but there’s nothing wrong with that.’

‘Oh, she’s not bad. I feel sorry for her actually.’ No matter how hard training might be, Millie had made some very good friends at Nightingale’s. They gathered in each other’s rooms to gossip and study, took trips to the cinema and treated themselves to tea in the local cafe if they were feeling flush.

But as far as she knew, Helen Tremayne had no friends. Millie had done her best to include her, inviting her on various outings. But Helen had said no so often she had given up asking.

After supper they went back to their room. Millie had arranged to go out with some of her friends to hear how they had got on during their first day on the wards.

‘Why don’t you come with us?’ she asked Dora, pulling the pins out of her hair and enjoying the blissful freedom of it tumbling around her face.

‘Thanks, but I’d rather stay here. Anyway, I’m a bit short until we get paid.’

‘I’ll treat you,’ Millie offered.

Dora’s smile tightened. ‘No, thanks,’ she refused politely.

Millie watched her unlacing her shoes. She had been thinking