The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,32

by working together they might become better friends. But no matter how friendly she tried to be, Amy treated her with the same mistrust as all the other girls did.

She was in a particularly bad mood on that morning, as she and some of the other second years had been caught by Hopkins the Head Porter coming home from celebrating Ellis’ birthday, and they had all received a dressing down from Matron.

‘I hope you didn’t have anything to do with it?’ she hissed at Helen as they served breakfast to the patients.

‘Why should I want to get you into trouble?’ Helen asked.

‘It wouldn’t be the first time, would it? We haven’t forgotten what you did to Peggy Gibson.’

Helen sighed. That name had haunted her for over a year. ‘Peggy Gibson was dismissed because of her own stupid mistake—’

‘Which you couldn’t wait to tell your mother about!’ Amy snapped back. ‘She’d still be here, if you hadn’t betrayed her.’

‘Hollins! Tremayne! Stop gossiping and take this to Mr Nicholls in bed five. You can discuss your social life in your own time,’ Sister Holmes snapped at them.

What social life? Helen thought, ignoring the black look Amy sent her as she whisked past with a tray. She was never included in the other girls’ plans. And even if she had been, her mother would never have allowed her to go anywhere.

‘Your mate’s a little ray of sunshine this morning, isn’t she?’ Mr Denton commented later when Helen arrived with her trolley to dress his leg. ‘Practically threw my breakfast at me, she did.’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Denton. I’m afraid she’s – um – had some bad news.’ Helen pulled the screens around the bed. It wasn’t really a lie, since Amy and the others had had their leave cancelled as punishment.

‘All the same, that’s no reason to take it out on the rest of us. Some of the poor old crocks in here aren’t exactly having a picnic themselves,’ Mr Denton said. ‘Take that Mr Bennett. Now he really has got something to moan about, wouldn’t you say, Nurse? I’d like to see your pal Nurse Hollins have to put up with his piles for a week.’

So would I! Helen thought, keeping her head down, arranging bowls and swabs on her trolley so Mr Denton wouldn’t see her smiling to herself at the thought.

But he did. ‘That made you laugh, didn’t it?’ He grinned. ‘Don’t worry, Nurse, I won’t tell anyone. I’ve seen the way she snaps your head off, too. I don’t know why you don’t clock her one sometimes. I reckon you must have the patience of a saint.’

‘I don’t know about that, Mr Denton. Now let’s take a look at that leg, shall we?’

Helen carefully took off the splint and steeled herself to examine what was left of Mr Denton’s leg. He had undergone an emergency amputation a week earlier after trapping it in machinery at the timber yard where he worked. He should have been on the Orthopaedic ward, but he’d been transferred to Surgical due to a lack of beds.

Even after seeing it every day, uncovering the red, angry-looking stump was still a shock to her. He seemed to read her thoughts. ‘Not a pretty sight, is it?’ He smiled grimly.

‘It’s getting a lot better. The wound is clean and there’s no sign of infection around the stitches,’ Helen said briskly. ‘It’ll be even better after I’ve cleaned it up for you.’

It was just such a tragedy to happen to a young man, she thought as she cleaned it carefully with soap and water. He was only twenty-three, fit and strong. Life could be so cruel sometimes.

Not that Mr Denton saw it that way. He was grateful just to be alive.

‘So it’s looking all right, is it, Nurse?’ he asked, as he always did.

‘Fine, Mr Denton. Healing up very nicely.’

‘That’s all down to you, that is. You really look after me.’ He watched her dabbing the wound gently. ‘You’re an angel, you know that?’

‘It’s my job, Mr Denton.’

‘I wish you’d call me Charlie.’

‘You know that’s not allowed.’ Helen finished cleaning his wound and reached for the bottle of methylated spirit. ‘Now brace yourself, Mr Denton. This might sting a bit.’

‘Sting, she says!’ he hissed between clenched teeth, as Helen applied the spirit. ‘Forget what I said about you being an angel, Nurse T. You’re a demon, that’s what you are!’

Helen smiled. He cursed her every time. ‘Don’t be such a baby, Mr Denton. It’s for your own good.’

‘True enough,

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