Free Through the Storm by Maureen Lee Page A

lined humorous face. Her brown eyes danced with amusement behind her rimless glasses.
    ‘I thought I was supposed to wear one the same as hers,’ Kitty stammered.
    The woman laughed. ‘Did you now! Here five minutes and you’re already a State Registered Nurse. No, dear, it’s green and white stripes for the likes of you. They’re over there.’ She nodded towards a shelf behind Kitty. ‘The aprons are on the shelf below, along with the caps. Mind you, it wouldn’t have hurt Staff to let you know what you were supposed to wear. She seems to expect everyone to read her mind, then blows her top if we read it wrongly. That said, Bellamy’s okay deep down at heart. Her bark’s ten times worse than her bite.’ She smiled briskly. ‘Here, give me that dress and I’ll fold it whilst you put your own clothes back on. After you’ve collected your serf’s uniform, I’ll show you where to change.’
    ‘Me serf’s uniform?’
    ‘You’ll feel like a serf after you’ve been here a while. This hospital is run on a strictly hierarchical system. Right at the top there’s God and the Apostles, in other words, the Chief Medical Officer and his various assistants. Then there’s Red Cross nurses, Queen Alexandra nurses, plain ordinary nurses, SBAs, non-medical staff – mainly Wrens. Right at the very bottom of the shitheap, there’s us, the auxiliaries.’
    It was only then Kitty noticed the woman was wearing a green and white striped coarse cotton dress, a long white apron and a white cap consisting of a stiff band with a soft gathered crown over her short, greying-brown hair. She looked quite good-tempered whilst she spoke , as if she wasn’t particularly bothered at being regarded as a serf.
    ‘I’m Harriet, by the way. Harriet Mansell, spinster of this parish. You’re Kathleen Quigley, so I’m told.’
    ‘Everyone calls me Kitty.’
    ‘Mansell, Quigley,’ a voice bellowed. ‘What’s going on in there?’
    ‘Quigley’s just finding a uniform to fit, Staff,’ the woman called back.
    ‘This is a hospital, not a mannequin parade.’
    ‘Coming, Staff.’ Harriet Mansell turned to Kitty, who was putting her coat back on. ‘Ready?’
    Kitty nodded and was about to leave, when Harriet said, grinning broadly, ‘You’ve forgotten your uniform, which was the whole point of this rather elaborate and useless exercise!’
    Nurse Bellamy was still studying her chart when they went in. ‘Has Peterson turned up yet?’ she enquired without looking up.
    ‘I think I saw her upstairs, Staff,’ Harriet Mansell replied.
    ‘Really?’ the Staff Nurse said sarcastically. ‘In that case, she’s forgotten to report in.’
    ‘I’ll remind her when I see her.’
    ‘You do that, Mansell. Well, you know where to start; the corridors, the sluice room, then the wards. Show Quigley here what to do. She’s taken over from Caldicott.’
    ‘Rightio, Staff. I’ll keep an eye on her. Come on, Kitty.’
    Once they were outside in the corridor, the older woman said, ‘We’ll collect the buckets now, rather than come all the way down again when you’ve changed.’ She led Kitty back along the corridor to a room where there was a large brown earthenware sink at floor level. Two women were already there, each filling a metal pail with water.
    ‘Morning, ladies,’ Harriet said cheerfully.
    ‘Morning,’ one replied. The other looked half asleep and didn’t answer. As soon as the pails were nearly full of soapy water, they each collected a mop and shuffled out, yawning.
    Harriet put three pails in the sink and sprinkled suds in each. ‘I’ll take two buckets with me, one for Lucy. She’s late again. Staff’s already noticed she’s not here. Poor Lucy has a terrible job getting out in the mornings. Find three decent mops, there’s a good girl. Some are so badly worn they’re useless.’
    Kitty sorted through a row of mops which were standing upside down against the wall and selected the best three. Although she said