The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,95

at you like that. I was wrong, and I wanted to say sorry.’

Nick stared at her for a moment. It was hard to work out what was going on behind those hooded eyes of his. She thought he might reply, but he just turned around and thudded his fist squarely into the middle of the punchbag. ‘Was that it?’ he said gruffly. Dora nodded. ‘You’d best get off, then, hadn’t you, before Jimmy comes back.’

He turned his back on her and carried on aiming punch after punch into the heavy sandbag, his fists thrusting like pistons. Dora watched him for a moment.

‘Blimey, Max Baer doesn’t stand a chance, does he?’ she said.

Nick stopped dead. ‘What do you know about Max Baer?’

‘Danny said you wanted to go to America and fight him one day.’ She saw his quick frown. ‘It’s all right, he said it was a secret. I’m not going to tell anyone.’

Nick’s eyes met hers, then he turned back to the punchbag. ‘It’s just a stupid dream,’ he muttered.

‘I don’t think it’s stupid.’ Dora watched the muscles of his back working under his sweat-slicked vest. ‘I reckon you could do it.’

‘Oh yeah? Expert on boxing now, are you?’

‘No, but I know determination when I see it. And I don’t reckon it’s stupid to have a dream. Sometimes dreams are all that keep you going. You can’t give up on them, can you?’

His leather-gloved hands closed around the bag, stopping it dead. ‘I’m not ready to give up on anything,’ he said.

‘All right, you two.’ Jimmy came up to them, his meaty arms folded across his chest. ‘Time’s up. If you want to whisper sweet nothings to each other go down the Palais like everyone else.’

Dora glanced at Nick. ‘No, you’re all right,’ she said. ‘I reckon he’s got two left feet anyway.’

Nick gave her the ghost of a smile. ‘You’ll never know, will you?’

I’m not ready to give up either, Dora thought the following morning, as she walked on to the ward. She could already feel several pairs of eyes swivel towards her, anticipating the fun and games they would have.

But this time Dora was ready for them. She’d been thinking about it all night. Nursing was her dream, and she wasn’t going to let anyone stand in her way. Especially not the likes of Alf Doyle, or a bunch of bored men who wanted to act like schoolboys.

Their first job was the bedpan and bottle round. As Dora approached Mr Hubbard’s bed, he was already grinning.

‘Sorry, Nurse,’ he said. ‘I’m having a bit of trouble with the bottle. I wonder if I could ask you to help me put it in? You know, my . . .’

Dora smiled sweetly. ‘Of course, Mr Hubbard,’ she said.

His eyebrows shot up. ‘Really?’ he said. Dora understood his surprise. Usually she would flee in confusion when he had made the same request, almost knocking over the screens in her haste to get away.

But this time she’d come prepared. Still smiling, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a large pair of rat-tooth forceps.

‘Now,’ she said brightly, snapping the spiked jaws in front of his face. ‘Let’s see if we can help you, shall we?’

‘Ooh, no, no, it’s all right, Nurse. Do you know what? I think I can manage after all,’ he reassured her hastily, his eyes round as he stared in fear at the forceps.

Dora smiled. ‘I thought you might.’

As she walked away, Sister Blake approached her. ‘Doyle, did I just see you threaten a patient with a pair of forceps?’ she asked.

Dora gulped, her moment of triumph vanishing like mist. ‘Y-yes, Sister.’

A slow smile spread across Sister Blake’s face. ‘Excellent work. Perhaps we might make a nurse of you yet,’ she said.

Chapter Thirty

BLANCHE DESMOND WENT down to surgery on a trolley, like Cleopatra going down the Nile on her barge.

‘Well, this is it.’ She winked at Millie. ‘I’m glad you’re coming with me, love.’

‘So am I.’ Usually it was a senior’s job to accompany patients down to Theatre, but Blanche had insisted she wanted Millie with her.

‘A lot of those other nurses walk by with their noses in the air and won’t give me the time of day. But our Millie’s different,’ she’d told Sister Wren.

Sister was outraged – she was the one who gave orders on her ward – but as it happened one of the seniors had been taken to the sick room with a fever and they were short-staffed, so it suited her to give Millie