But I shouldn’t have used her first name, not in front of Sister Luke. Bridie didn’t call me anything, I noticed—just bobbed her head.
I asked, Have you breakfasted?
She nodded appreciatively. Black pudding and lashings of sausages.
The nun said, Sweeney, sprinkle this floor with disinfectant and rub it all over with a cloth tied around that broom.
The day shift was mine, so why was the nun giving orders? I pointedly waited for Sister Luke to leave.
She shed her apron and put on her cloak. Have you heard mass yet, Nurse Power?
That confused me for a second, because it wasn’t Sunday. Oh, for All Souls, yes. (God forgive me the lie; I couldn’t bear a scolding from her.)
All Saints, you mean.
I could hear the pleasure Sister Luke took in correcting me.
On the first of November, she reminded the whole room, we celebrate the church triumphant in heaven, watching over us poor sinners on earth. Whereas tomorrow, the Feast of All Souls, we honour the church penitent—the holy souls in purgatory.
Could she really imagine I wanted a lecture on the finer points of the liturgical calendar? Bridie was cleaning the floor already. I got on with putting my coat and bag away and scrubbing my hands.
Honor White let out a wet cough.
Sister Luke said, You could try a poultice on Mrs. White.
I reminded myself that the night nurse wasn’t in authority over me. Actually, Sister, in my experience poulticing isn’t much help in these chest cases.
Her visible eyebrow—the one not covered by the patch—disappeared into her coif. In my much longer experience, it will help if you do it correctly.
I could tell by Bridie’s shoulder blades that she was attentive to every word of this.
So tempting to point out that much of Sister Luke’s experience and all of her training was from the last century. Instead I said mildly, Well, as we’re so short-staffed, I believe I’ll use my good judgement.
A faint sniff.
I told her, Sleep well.
The nun buttoned up her cloak as if she had no intention of doing anything so feeble.
Sweeney, she said, don’t get under anyone’s feet today.
The minute Sister Luke had swept out, Bridie leaned on her mop and let out a snort. You told the old crow, all right. You told her something fierce.
But it would do this young woman no good if I stirred up trouble between her and the nun, given that they lived under the same roof. And besides, patients shouldn’t be made uneasy by dissent in the ranks. So I shook my head at Bridie. But I added, I’m glad you came back today.
A grin. Sure why wouldn’t I?
I said, poker-faced, Oh, I don’t know. Hard work, nasty pongs, and horrors?
The work’s even harder for us at the motherhouse, and there’s all the praying on top.
Us meaning you and the nuns?
Bridie corrected me. Us boarders, about twenty girls. Anyway, of course I came back. A change is as good as a rest. And it’s all go here—something new every minute!
Her cheer was infectious. I remembered the cut she’d got from the broken thermometer yesterday. How’s your finger?
She held it up and said, Not a mark. That pencil of yours is magic.
Actually, it’s science.
Delia Garrett was half awake, struggling to sit up in her cot. I checked that her stitches were healing nicely.
She was limp, monosyllabic.
Tell me, is your chest tender today?
Tears spilled.
A chest binder should help, Mrs. Garrett.
Somehow, flattening the breasts told them to give up making unwanted milk. I fetched a roll of clean bandage. Working blind under her nightdress, I wound the stuff four times around her. Tell me if that’s too tight or if it constricts your breathing at all.
Delia Garrett nodded as if she barely cared. A hot whiskey?
All right.
She probably didn’t need it for her flu, but if I were her, I’d want to sleep these days away.
Honor White was propped up in the right position for a pneumoniac, but her breathing was loud and her pallor was greenish. I checked her chart to make sure Sister Luke had remembered her strengthening pill. She had, and she’d written Sore stomach beside it; iron often had that effect. Pulse, respirations, temperature—no worse, but no better.
When I asked, Honor White was still obdurate on the subject of strong drink, so I gave her a low dose of aspirin to bring down her fever and a spoonful of ipecac for her cough. I undid the neck of her nightdress and applied a camphorated rub to