The Nightingale Nurses by Donna Douglas

Author:Donna Douglas [Douglas, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781448165018
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2015-01-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

‘BUT JOE’S SAID he’s sorry,’ Katie O’Hara protested.

Dora looked down at the plate of greasy grey stew in front of her. ‘Sorry isn’t good enough.’

‘He couldn’t help it. He was a bit tipsy.’

‘A bit tipsy!’ Dora caught Sister Sutton’s sharp glance from the other end of the dining table, and lowered her voice. ‘He was pie-eyed!’

‘All the more reason why you should forgive him,’ Katie said through a mouthful of food. ‘He didn’t know what he was doing.’

He knew what he was doing, all right, Dora thought. Two weeks after the ball, and she was still reliving what had happened that night. God only knew how far Joe would have gone if she hadn’t fought him off.

But he was sorry for it now. The day after the ball he had turned up at the hospital gates to see her, but Mr Hopkins had turned him away at the Porters’ Lodge. Since then Joe had sent her notes and telephoned the nurses’ home so many times that Dora had started to jump every time she heard the jangle of the bell in the hall.

And now he’d appealed to Katie for help.

‘I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.’ O’Hara shrugged. ‘All he did was get a bit fresh with you. All men try it on.’

Dora felt herself blushing as several pairs of interested eyes turned in her direction.

She put down her fork. ‘Look, I know Tom’s asked you to put in a good word for Joe, but you’re wasting your time. As far as I’m concerned, it’s over. So do me a favour and stop discussing my private business in front of everyone!’

Katie looked hurt. ‘You’ll regret it,’ she mumbled. ‘Joe Armstrong’s a good catch.’ Dora kept her head down and didn’t reply. ‘I’m only saying—’

‘Well, don’t,’ Millie cut in. ‘Could we talk about something else, please? I don’t know about you, but I’m finding this constant talk about Doyle’s love life rather tedious.’ She skewered a lump of gristle on the end of her fork and held it up for closer inspection. ‘Could someone tell me what this meat we’re eating is supposed to be?’

‘Beef,’ someone said.

‘Rabbit?’ suggested another.

‘One of old Latimer’s patients!’ someone else chimed in, and soon there was a lively debate around the table.

Dora shot a quick, grateful look at Millie. She might seem a bit flighty at times, but she knew how to smooth ruffled feathers.

‘Which drugs or agents could be locally applied to check haemorrhage?’

‘Let’s see . . . there’s adrenalin, tannic acid, gallic acid, turpentine, hamamelis . . .’ Helen took the dripping flannel out of the bowl of iced water and wrung it out. ‘Cautery, of course, then heat, cold, and . . .’ she paused for a moment to think, then it came to her ‘. . . hydrogen peroxide,’ she finished. ‘There. How did I do?’

‘Word perfect, as usual.’ Charlie looked up admiringly from the textbook. ‘How do you remember all those complicated words?’

‘I’ve had three years of practice. And I study a lot.

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