The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,96

the job.

‘But I’ll be having words with you later about allowing patients to call you by your Christian name,’ she’d warned ominously.

They made their way through the grey-painted corridors, a porter pushing the trolley, Millie walking beside Blanche. She felt terribly important in her uniform. It helped her walk with her head held high, in a way that Madame Vacani’s deportment lessons had never managed to teach her.

‘Hold my hand, would you, love?’

Blanche reached out to her. Millie took her hand and curled her fingers around it.

‘Silly, isn’t it? But I can’t help feeling a bit nervous now it’s all happening,’ she whispered.

Millie squeezed her hand. ‘You’ll be fine, Blanche,’ she reassured her.

‘I hope so, love. Funny thing is, I had a dream last night that I wasn’t going to make it. A what do you call it? Premonition.’

‘Everyone feels nervous before an operation,’ Millie said.

‘Let’s hope the surgeon doesn’t!’ Blanche managed a wobbly smile. She looked so vulnerable without her usual mask of powder and scarlet lipstick.

‘You’ve got nothing to worry about,’ Millie reassured her. ‘This is a routine operation, and Mr Cooper knows what he’s doing. You’ll be as right as rain when he’s finished with you.’

‘I hope so, love. It’s not been much of a life, but I’d be sorry if this was my lot.’

‘It won’t be,’ Millie said. ‘Just think, in a few weeks’ time you’ll be chasing chickens around your sister’s farmyard and wondering what you were ever worrying about!’

Blanche smiled, and this time her smile reached her eyes. It crinkled the skin at the corners, showing her age.

‘I’ll have a good send off before then, I hope,’ she said. ‘A party in the King’s Arms, and you can all drink to my good health. You’ll come, won’t you, love?’

‘I’d love to,’ Millie said. ‘I’ve never been to a pub before.’

Blanche’s mouth fell open. ‘You what? How old are you?’

‘Nineteen. Nearly twenty, actually.’

‘Blimey, love, by the time I was your age, I was – well, never mind what I was,’ said Blanche hastily. ‘Let’s just say I’d seen the inside of a fair few pubs by then. Next you’ll be telling me you’ve never had a port and lemon?’

Millie shook her head. ‘I haven’t. But I’ll try anything once.’

‘Don’t be saying that, girl. You don’t know what trouble you’ll end up in!’

They both laughed. Then Millie remembered the porter was listening, and started to blush.

Blanche gazed at her fondly. ‘You’re a lovely girl, do you know that? You’ve been very good to me while I’ve been here. And you’re a bloody good nurse, too.’

‘I don’t think Sister Wren would agree with you!’

‘Sister Wren doesn’t know her arse from her elbow, if you’ll pardon my French.’

‘Let’s hope the surgeon does, or you’ll be in trouble,’ the porter said cheekily.

Blanche stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. She suddenly seemed more like her old self again, her hearty, wheezing laughter ringing out down the corridor.

William was waiting for them on the other side of the double doors to the theatre.

‘There you are, Miss Desmond,’ he greeted her with a smile. ‘We were wondering what had happened to you. We thought you might have changed your mind and stood us up?’

‘Stand up Mr Cooper? Not a chance. Although I feel a bit strange, seeing him without my lipstick on. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could . . .’

‘Sorry, Blanche, it’s against the rules,’ Millie said. ‘But I’ll make sure you’re wearing it when you come round.’

‘Promise? I feel naked without my lipstick.’

‘I promise,’ Millie said.

‘You look beautiful without it anyway,’ William put in gallantly.

‘Ooh, listen to you!’ Blanche chuckled. ‘You’d better watch out, Millie love. Looks like your young man’s got his eye on me now!’

Millie couldn’t bring herself to look at William as colour scalded her face. ‘This is where I have to leave you,’ she said.

‘Don’t.’ Blanche was suddenly serious, her fingers tightening around Millie’s. ‘Stay with me,’ she pleaded.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m not allowed.’ Millie felt suddenly flustered. ‘But I’ll be waiting with a nice cup of tea when you wake up.’

‘And I’ll take good care of you in the meantime,’ William put in.

As the porter wheeled her away, Blanche called back, ‘You will make sure I’ve got my lipstick on when I come round, won’t you? I don’t feel right without it.’

They were the last words Millie ever heard her say.

Millie was due to take her break from three until five. She had arranged to meet Sophia at