Free The Nightingale Girls by Donna Douglas

prevents pressure sores,’ Lucy piped up.
    ‘Very good, Lane. Pressure sores are the result of bad nursing, nothing else. While on the wards, we expect you to be absolutely vigilant.’
    After the demonstration, the Sister Tutor paired the students up to try it for themselves. Naturally, Lucy Lane put herself forward first. She looked annoyed when Sister Parker paired her with Jennifer Bradley.
    ‘Poor girl,’ Millie whispered to Dora. ‘I wouldn’t like to be Lane’s partner.’
    ‘Really? I thought you two were the best of friends,’ Dora replied coldly.
    ‘Shhh! Quiet, Nurses! You should be watching and taking notes, not gossiping!’ Sister Parker frowned at them.
    Lucy already looked every inch the professional nurse in her immaculate uniform, her cap set straight on her smooth chestnut-brown hair. And she performed the whole procedure perfectly, her movements brisk and assured.
    Unfortunately she was let down by her partner. Jennifer Bradley was a bag of nerves. Sweat gleamed on her brow as she struggled to keep up with Lane’s fast, fluid movements. By the time they’d finished, it looked as if they’d been fighting on the bed, not making it.
    ‘Hardly a good first effort,’ Sister Parker tutted. ‘You should learn to work together. It is not only easier on your back, it will also make the whole process much faster and smoother.’
    ‘That was all your fault,’ Lucy hissed as they rejoined the group and another pair took their place.
    ‘I – I’m sorry.’ Jennifer’s lip trembled.
    ‘Leave her alone,’ Millie said.
    ‘But she was useless!’
    ‘She was doing her best. You can see she’s nervous.’
    ‘She shouldn’t be here if she’s not up to it.’
    ‘If it was up to you, none of us would be here,’ Dora muttered.
    ‘Nurses, please!’ Sister Parker shot them a warning look. ‘If I hear another word you will all be going to explain yourselves to Matron.’
    Lucy glared at Dora, but said nothing.
    Sister Parker and her assistant then demonstrated how to make a bed with a patient in it, using Mrs Jones, the life-sized dummy. Millie groaned. She had done battle with Mrs Jones during her previous stint in PTS, and always came off worst.
    Sister Parker knew it too. ‘Benedict, you can go first. As you’ve already spent three months training, you should be able to show everyone how to do it.’ Her eyes gleamed with malice behind her pebble spectacles. ‘Doyle, you can be her partner.’
    ‘Look, about earlier . . .’ Millie tried to say as they took their places, but Dora cut her dead.
    ‘We’re supposed to be getting on with this, remember?’ she hissed back.
    They faced each other across the bed, ready to begin.
    ‘Remember to speak to the patient,’ Sister Parker reminded them. ‘You must explain every procedure as you do it.’
    Millie eyed Mrs Jones apprehensively. She seemed decidedly uninterested in what was about to happen to her.
    She took a deep breath. ‘Now, Mrs Jones, Nurse Doyle and I are going to change your bed for you,’ she said brightly. ‘So if you could just move your arms and legsfor me . . . that’s wonderful.’ So far so good, Mrs Jones seemed to be co-operating for once, her limbs tucking in nicely around her. Encouraged, Millie grasped her shoulders. ‘Right, now I’m going to turn you on to your side towards me – oh, bugger!’
    Just as it all seemed to be going so well, Mrs Jones took on a life of her own. Millie made a lunge for her as her dead weight tipped forward, slipped out of her grasp and started to roll off the bed. It was only Millie’s knee catching the dummy under the chin that stopped her from hitting the ground head first.
    She froze there, legs buckling under Mrs Jones’ weight, still propping her up by one knee. She looked across the bed and saw Dora standing there frozen with the draw sheet in her hands.
    For a second they stared at each other in horror. Then the corners of Dora’s mouth began to twitch.
    ‘No, Benedict,