Free Through the Storm by Maureen Lee

but enough to see by as she made her way towards Rimrose Road. It was lighter still when she got off at the hospital.
    Seafield House was a lonely place, fronting Seaforth Sands and reached from the road through an iron gate and along a tree-lined path. A massive five-storey grey brick building with narrow windows, some with iron bars, it had square solid turrets at either end and rows of unnaturally tall chimneys protruding like fingers into the lightening sky. Before only recently becoming a naval hospital, it had belonged to the Lancashire Asylums Board, and had a sinister, forbidding air. No-one had ever been seen going in or coming out, and people were unsure whether the place was occupied or not. Kitty felt very small as she trailed behind a handful of people who’d got off the bus at the same time towards the arched double doors, one of which was wide open.
    The others had disappeared by the time Kitty entered the door herself, and she found herself in a dismal reception area two floors high with a black and grey tiled floor and walls painted a colour she couldn’t put a name to, a mixture of putty and green, which she later discovered was referred to as ‘eau de sick’. Although everywhere was very quiet and the only person in sight was a tired-looking young woman in a white shirt and navy-blue tie who was sitting behind a desk, nevertheless the building had an air of occupancy, and Kitty was conscious of the fact that there were perhaps hundreds of people there. At that moment, two nurses came hurrying in and ran quickly up the stairs, their dark cloaks flowing, and she wondered if she would be given a cloak to wear.
    The young woman smiled as Kitty approached. ‘Can I help you, love?’
    ‘I’m looking for Staff Nurse Bellamy.’
    ‘She’s in the basement, that’s through the door in the corner over there. Turn right when you reach the bottom of the stairs and you’ll find her office at the far end of the corridor.’
    ‘Ta.’
    The basement was dimly lit by low-powered electric bulbs. Bottle-green iron doors, all firmly shut, lined the narrow corridor. The final door was open, and in a windowless room more like a prison cell than an office, a frowning nurse wearing a white lawn veil on the back of her head and a pale grey dress which had a little scarlet-trimmed shoulder cape was bending over a desk containing a large chart on which she was writing.
    ‘Staff Nurse Bellamy?’
    The woman looked up, frowning even more deeply. She looked more like a farmer’s wife than a nurse, with a shiny face, red apple cheeks and a little round chin, which all contrasted rather oddly with her cool, regal dress. ‘Who are you?’ she demanded in a loud voice.
    ‘Kitty Quigley. I’m the new auxiliary nurse.’
    ‘That’s right, so you are. Well, if you’d like to go in the room next door and find yourself a uniform, I’ll put you to work.’
    Kitty struggled for ages with the handle of the door trying to get it open, until an impatient voice shouted, ‘You turn the handle up, not down.’
    Once inside the dark room, Kitty groped the walls but was unable to find the light switch. She was close to despair – Nurse Bellamy would think her dead stupid – when something knocked against her forehead, a cord with a knob on the end. She pulled the knob with a trembling hand, praying it wouldn’t bring something down on top of her, and the light came on.
    There were uniforms, stacks of them in several different colours on the shelves lining the room. Kitty sorted through a heap of well-starched pale grey frocks until she found one that looked about her size. She hung her coat behind the door, removed her own frock and was buttoning up the grey uniform when an amused voice said, ‘You’re only supposed to collect your uniform here, not change into it. And if Staff sees you in that get-up she’ll bust a gut.’
    A woman of about fifty was standing in the doorway. She was thin to the point of emaciation, with a deeply