Free Nightingales on Call by Donna Douglas

soaking up the information like a sponge. And all the while her mind was working, thinking what a privilege it must be to be able to go to lectures and learn so much every day.
    She jumped at the sound of heavy footsteps creaking up the stairs. She barely had time to slip the book under the pillow and scramble to her feet when the door opened and Sister Sutton stood there, Sparky at her feet.
    ‘Good gracious, girl, what are you doing here?’ She eyed Jess. ‘Isn’t it supposed to be your half-day today?’
    ‘Yes, but I wanted to make sure everything was done,’ Jess replied, stepping slightly to one side so Sister Sutton couldn’t see the corner of the book sticking out from under the pillow. ‘I know we’ll be busy when the new students arrive, so I don’t mind staying.’
    ‘That won’t be necessary, child.’ Sister Sutton folded her fat hands in front of her and looked around. ‘Are you sure you’ve done everything? Polished the banisters? Tidied the linen cupboard?’ She thought for a moment. ‘Did you clean the bathrooms properly? I hope you haven’t been slapdash.’
    ‘You can inspect them if you like,’ Jess said.
    Sister Sutton stiffened, her chins wobbling. ‘I most certainly will, you can be sure of that. I don’t need you to tell me my job, girl.’
    She bustled off down the stairs, Sparky trotting after her, his nose in the air. Jess followed meekly behind.
    She waited tensely as Sister Sutton walked around, running her finger along the tops of the doors and the windowsills.
    ‘As you can see, I managed to scrub those marks off the taps,’ offered Jess, breaking the silence. ‘It took a bit of elbow grease, but I did it.’
    Sister Sutton sniffed. ‘I suppose you’ve done a passable job,’ she conceded, then added, ‘although you might have used a little more elbow grease on those tiles.’
    ‘Yes, Sister.’ Jess tried not to smile. How typical! She could have been up all night scrubbing those tiles and Sister Sutton would still have found fault.
    But Jess had learned not to take offence. It was just the Home Sister’s way.
    ‘Now get off with you,’ Sister Sutton said. ‘And see you return by five,’ she added. ‘I daresay there will be plenty to do when the new girls arrive.’
    ‘Yes, Sister.’
    ‘And Jess?’
    She turned. ‘Yes, Sister?’
    ‘Are you aware your month’s trial is up at the end of this week?’
    ‘Yes, Sister.’ Jess swallowed hard. She had been aware of little else for several days.
    Sister Sutton paused. ‘I can see no reason why we shouldn’t make the arrangement permanent,’ she said. ‘If that is acceptable to you?’
    Jess fought to stop herself from smiling with relief. ‘Yes, Sister,’ she said. ‘It is.’
    ‘Very well. Then I will see you at five o’clock sharp.’
    Her mother was right, Effie O’Hara thought. The East End of London was very different from Killarney.
    As she stepped off the bus in Wapping, the sights, sounds and smells of the city rushed in to fill her senses. The air was alive with the sound of shouting, street vendors selling their wares and the scream of seagulls wheeling overhead around the nearby docks. Distant factory chimneys belched smoke into the grimy sky. Even the sun that had been so clear and brilliant over the fields and lanes as she left Ireland cast no more than a dismal grey light over the damp city streets.
    And all those people . . . Effie had never seen so many, not even on the busiest market day in Killarney. The drab tide pushed and nudged past her as she stood on the corner, her bags at her feet.
    Effie felt her optimism fading. It was only the thought of facing her mother that stopped her getting straight back on the bus and catching the next boat home.
    She squared her shoulders. This won’t do, Euphemia O’Hara, she told herself. You wanted life, and here it is. Besides, once she reached the Nightingale Hospital, she would have her sisters to look after her.
    All she had to do was find