The Nightingale Sisters (7 page)

‘A few?’ The woman’s scalp was crawling with them. Just looking at her made Millie’s skin itch.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t touch her.’ She backed away, scratching feverishly at her arms.

‘Benedict—’

‘I can’t help it, I don’t like the thought of things crawling around in my hair.’

‘Benedict!’ Millie caught the warning hiss in Helen’s voice and suddenly realised she wasn’t looking at her, but staring straight past her shoulder towards the doorway.

Millie turned slowly, a feeling of dread creeping up on her. There, as she knew she would be, stood Sister Hyde. How did she manage to catch Millie out so often? It wasn’t fair, she thought.

‘What are you making a fuss about now, Benedict?’ she demanded, her face a rigid mask of disapproval.

‘Nothing, Sister.’

Sister Hyde strode into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Her expression softened when she saw the elderly woman shivering with fear under the towel Helen had wrapped around her.

‘Poor wretch,’ she murmured under her breath, then turned back to Millie. ‘Perhaps, Benedict, you might stop thinking about yourself for a moment and imagine how this unfortunate woman is feeling? She is clearly confused and terrified by her surroundings. Can you imagine how humiliating it must be to have to suffer an idiot girl squealing in revulsion at the very sight of her?’

‘Yes, Sister. Sorry, Sister.’ Millie stared at the white-tiled wall, hot shame washing over her.

‘It is not me you should be apologising to, Benedict. Never, ever forget that our patients, old and unfortunate as they may be, are still human beings with feelings.’

‘Yes, Sister.’

Sister Hyde inspected the woman’s head with a frowning glance.

‘Yes, extremely pediculous,’ she pronounced. ‘Well, you’re not going to be able to comb them out, there are far too many. You’re going to have to apply a sassafras cap. You do know how to apply a sassafras cap, don’t you?’ Millie stared at her blankly. Sister Hyde tutted. ‘Good heavens, what do they teach you in PTS these days?’ She sighed heavily.

‘Please, Sister, shall I do it?’ Helen put in.

Sister Hyde gave her a withering glance. ‘Have you done it before?’

‘Yes, Sister.’

‘Then you don’t need to do it again, do you? How will Benedict ever learn if you keep helping her?’

‘Yes, Sister.’ As Helen hung her head humbly, Sister Hyde turned back to Millie. ‘Go to the ward cupboard and find the oil of sassafras. It’s in a large brown glass bottle. You must soak a piece of lint in it, then apply it to the patient’s head. Cover it with a piece of jaconet, then a layer of wool, then fix it in place with a capelline bandage. You know what a capelline bandage is, I presume?’

‘Yes, Sister.’ Millie decided that now wasn’t the time to tell her she’d never successfully dressed a patient’s head in her life.

When Sister had gone, Millie and Helen managed to coax the woman into the bathtub. Once in, her whole body relaxed and she gave a blissful sigh as she slipped up to her neck in the warm water.

‘You see?’ Millie smiled over her shoulder, as she arranged a clean nightgown on the radiator. ‘I told you you’d enjoy it.’ She glanced across at Helen. ‘Sorry I took fright earlier on. Sister’s right, it was silly and thoughtless of me.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

Millie frowned. Helen seemed preoccupied as she gently sponged the woman’s scarred shoulders, as if she had something troubling on her mind.

‘Is anything wrong?’ Millie asked.

Helen was silent for a moment, concentrating on her task. Then, suddenly, she blurted out, ‘William has a new girlfriend.’

Millie unfolded a towel and smoothed it out on the radiator to warm it. She was aware of Helen watching her closely, waiting for her to react.

‘Your brother always has a new girlfriend,’ she said lightly.

‘We think this one might be serious. He’s even talking about taking her home to meet Mother.’

‘Gosh, then it must be serious. So who’s the lucky nurse this time? Anyone I know?’

‘She’s not a nurse. She’s a doctor. Her name’s Philippa and they met years ago at university.’

‘A doctor? That makes a change.’

‘It does, doesn’t it?’ Helen looked up at her, her dark eyes anxious. ‘You are all right about it, aren’t you?’

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’ Millie made a big effort to widen her smile. ‘There was never anything serious between William and me. Besides, I’m engaged to Seb now. Why should I care what your brother gets up to?’

‘No reason, I suppose,’ Helen agreed. ‘I just thought you’d want to hear it from me rather than the hospital grapevine.’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you, but really there’s no need to worry about my feelings,’ Millie assured her. ‘Anyway, it’s about time William settled down.’

‘That’s what Mother says. And as you know, my mother is always right.’ Helen frowned at her. ‘You aren’t upset, are you?’

‘I told you, I’m fine. Your brother and I had a silly, five-minute infatuation, nothing more than that. I like to think we’re still friends, but that’s as far as it goes.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Helen said. ‘So why are you folding up that towel you’ve just spread out on the radiator?’

Millie blinked at the folded towel in her hands, then sighed and unfolded it again. ‘I’ll go and get that sassafras cap ready.’

She stood at the ward cupboard, staring at the rows of glass bottles full of oils, fluids and various tinctures.

I don’t care, she told herself. I’m engaged to Sebastian now. William Tremayne can have as many girlfriends as he likes.

God knows, he’d rarely been without a girl on his arm the whole time she’d known him. Dr Tremayne enjoyed a reputation as the scourge of the Nightingale’s young nurses; no girl was safe from him.

Including Millie. She had fallen for him just like all the others. But unlike the others, she’d never become one of his conquests. She’d come to her senses, and found someone who truly loved her instead.

So why was she so shaken to hear that William had found someone too? It didn’t make sense.

You don’t want him but you don’t want anyone else to have him, that’s your problem, she told herself as she took the large brown glass bottle out of the cupboard and closed the door firmly.

Back in the bathroom, Helen had got the woman out of the bath, dried her off and was carefully dabbing disinfectant solution on her sores. The warm bath seemed to have subdued her, and she submitted with barely a whimper.

‘She probably understands now that we’re only trying to help her,’ Millie said, as they bundled her into a hospital nightgown.

As Helen went to fill a hot water bottle for her bed, Millie set to work with the sassafras. It was a fiddly job, especially getting the capelline bandage tidy and secure. She was just tucking the final end in place when Helen returned.

‘How are you getting on?’ she asked.

‘I think I’ve managed it.’ Millie stood back and surveyed her handiwork. She’d done a good job for once, even if she said so herself.

That wasn’t what Sister Hyde said, of course. She thought the bandage was very poorly executed, and she made sure she told Millie so several times as she and Helen put the woman into bed, where she fell into a deep, contented sleep.

‘Poor old thing,’ Millie said, looking down at her, ‘I don’t suppose she ever got much rest, sleeping in those cold, noisy railway arches.’

The following morning, the woman seemed much brighter. She was sitting up in bed eating toast when Millie arrived for her duty. She was pleased to notice the bandage was still in place – so much for Sister Hyde’s dire predictions, she thought triumphantly.

But still Sister wasn’t happy with her. ‘When are you going to remove that patient’s cap, Nurse?’ she demanded, as she handed out the work lists. ‘I know you have a horror of pediculi, but I’m sure you have nothing to fear by now.’

‘I’ll do it straight away, Sister.’

‘And make sure you comb the hair out thoroughly before you shampoo it.’

This time the woman was as meek as a lamb as she followed Millie to the bathroom.

‘You see,’ Millie beamed at her as she unwound the bandage. ‘Having a bath isn’t so bad, is it? And you feel so much better when you’re all clean and . . .’ She stopped, the dressing falling from her hand. For a moment she stared at the woman’s head, unable to believe what she saw.

‘You stay there, I – um – won’t be a moment.’ Smiling encouragingly at the patient, she backed out of the bathroom and rushed to the kitchen where she found Helen making tea.

She looked up from warming the pot. ‘Hello, aren’t you supposed to be looking after our new patient?’ Then she saw Millie’s stricken expression. ‘Oh Lord, please don’t tell me you’ve done something awful to her?’

‘You could say that.’ Millie swallowed hard. ‘You’d better come and see.’

Helen didn’t quite believe what she saw either. ‘But I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘Sassafras shouldn’t do that to anyone’s hair.’ She frowned at Millie. ‘You’re sure you put it on properly?’

‘Of course I’m sure!’ Millie stared at the woman’s hair. No matter how hard she stared at it, it still looked the same. Overnight, it had gone from dirty brown to a halo of startling orange.

‘You don’t think it was shock, do you?’ Helen ventured. ‘You hear of that happening to people.’

‘Shock turns people’s hair white, not . . . that colour.’ Millie chewed her lip. ‘Oh, Lord, what am I going to do? Sister Hyde is going to have an absolute fit.’

‘Not if you don’t tell her.’

‘Tremayne, she can spot a speck of dust from the other end of the ward. Do you really think she won’t notice something like this?’

‘You could try to cover it up?’

‘How?’

Helen looked thoughtful. ‘A hat?’ she suggested.

‘You’re not being very helpful.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Helen bit her lip. Millie could see she was making a supreme effort to stop herself from laughing.

‘It’s not funny. She looks like a marmalade cat.’

‘She looks more like Doyle!’ Then Millie caught sight of the orange hair out of the corner of her eye and felt her own mouth twitching treacherously.

‘It’s not funny,’ she repeated. But then Helen started laughing and Millie couldn’t stop herself from joining in. The patient joined in too, with a bellowing snort of a laugh that made Helen and Millie giggle even more.

‘Something amusing nurses?’

Hearing Sister Hyde’s voice was like having a bucket of icy water thrown over them. Even the patient sobered instantly, staring at Sister with round, fearful eyes.

‘Really, Tremayne, I might have expected foolish high spirits from Benedict, but not from you. I thought you had more—’

Millie couldn’t look, but she guessed Sister Hyde had spotted the patient, perched on her chair beside the bath, looking prim in her nightgown.

‘What is this?’ she said faintly.

‘I don’t know, Sister,’ Millie replied.

‘You don’t know?’ Sister Hyde swung round to face her, eyes narrowing. ‘What do you mean, you don’t know? Is this some kind of prank, Benedict?’

‘It isn’t, Sister, believe me. All I did was apply the sassafras cap as you told me, and then when I removed it this morning, it was – like this.’ She looked at the patient. ‘I thought perhaps it was supposed to do that?’ she suggested hopefully.

Sister Hyde quivered with rage. ‘Have you seen this woman’s hair, Benedict? Have you?’

‘Yes, Sister.’

‘And do you honestly suppose that it is normal to turn a patient’s hair orange while removing head lice?’

‘Well—’

‘No, Benedict, it isn’t.’ Sister Hyde closed her eyes briefly. She looked as if she was praying for strength. ‘How on earth could you have done something like this? Are you sure you followed my instructions?’

‘Yes, Sister.’

She and Helen glanced at each other as Sister Hyde picked up the lint she had taken from the woman’s head and sniffed it.

‘Odd,’ she said. ‘What exactly did you put on this, Benedict?’

‘Oil of Sassafras, Sister. From the bottle in the cupboard.’

‘Which bottle was that, Benedict? Show me.’

They made a humiliating procession to the ward cupboard, Sister Hyde in front, Millie and Helen trailing behind. Word had begun to spread, and a couple of the other nurses had sidled off to see for themselves what Millie had done now.

‘This is what I used, Sister.’ Millie took down the brown glass bottle and handed it to her. Sister Hyde examined the label, then unscrewed the cap and sniffed it.

‘Tell me, Benedict, does this smell like the sassafras oil you used?’

She thrust it under Millie’s nose. She recoiled as the pungent smell hit her. ‘Ugh! No, Sister.’

‘How about this?’ Sister Hyde reached into the cupboard and took out another, identical brown glass bottle. Dread crept like ice through Millie’s veins as the truth began to dawn on her. She realised what she’d done even before Sister Hyde had unscrewed the cap and waved it under her nose. ‘Perhaps this smells more familiar?’

It smelt familiar, all right. How many times had she used it to treat septic wounds? But she had been so preoccupied she hadn’t even noticed. ‘Yes, Sister.’

‘And what does the label say?’

Millie didn’t even have to raise her eyes to know. ‘Hydrogen peroxide, Sister.’

‘Which explains the patient’s miraculous transformation, doesn’t it?’

Millie heard a muffled giggle from the other side of the door. ‘I’m sorry, Sister. I don’t know how it happened—’

‘Oh, I do.’ Sister Hyde’s mouth thinned with contempt. ‘You are, as I have always suspected, completely incapable of following simple instructions.’

Millie stared at the floor. She must have been so busy thinking about William, she hadn’t read the label on the bottle correctly.

‘Sorry, Sister.’

‘Sorry indeed.’ Her chilly gaze raked Millie from head to foot. ‘I realise, Nurse Benedict, that this work is little more than a distraction for you, a way of filling in time before you get married, but I would thank you to remember that some of us take nursing very seriously. For some of us, taking care of patients is our life’s work. And if you’re not able to respect that, then perhaps you shouldn’t be here.’