How she stood up to him, Kitty had no idea. The major’s icy stare would have frozen her to the spot.
But Nurse Riley had a stubborn streak. Once she decided to dig her heels in, there would be no budging her.
Major Von Mundel seemed to know when he was defeated. He stared at her for a moment, then muttered something under his breath in German and strode off.
‘That’s told him!’ Miss Sloan whispered admiringly. ‘Good for Nurse Riley. I reckon he knows when he’s beaten, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Kitty said. But as she watched the officer striding down the ward, she couldn’t help thinking that he wouldn’t stay beaten for long.
Chapter Nine
‘Right, ducks, let’s have your arm.’
The pale-haired boy shrank away from Dora, his terrified gaze fixed on the needle in her hand. His bony face was as white as the linen pillow.
‘It’s all right, I’m not going to hurt you—’ Dora stopped, remembering herself. ‘Oh, what am I saying? You can’t understand a word, can you?’ She pointed to the needle and then to his arm, smiling encouragingly to make him understand that she meant him no harm.
She looked at Major Von Mundel, standing at the end of the bed. He brusquely translated for her.
The boy hesitated for a moment.
‘Schnell!’ Von Mundel barked, making Dora jump. Trembling, the boy offered up his arm.
‘Good lad.’ As quickly as she could, Dora rolled up his sleeve, cleaned his skin and gave the injection before he could change his mind.
‘You see?’ she said, taking out the needle. ‘That didn’t hurt at all, did it?’
The boy looked down at his arm, then back at her. Dora read the look of bewildered disbelief in his eyes.
‘Yes, that’s it,’ she said. ‘All finished.’ She put the needle down, then straightened his bedclothes. ‘Let’s make you a bit more comfortable, shall we?’
As she leaned across him, the boy looked up at her with a tremulous smile. ‘Danke,’ he said.
‘He said thank you,’ Von Mundel muttered through clenched teeth.
At least someone’s got some manners, Dora thought. She smiled back at the young man. ‘You’re very welcome, ducks. Now try to get some nice kip.’ Seeing his blank look, she mimicked sleep.
The boy nodded and settled down happily against the pillows she had just plumped for him.
Dora stood for a moment, watching him. Poor kid, he was only fifteen, just a couple of years older than her own little brother Alfie.
The ward was full of boys like him. The night nurse told her they often woke up screaming in the night for their mothers. Dora had only been nursing them for a week, but she already felt protective of them.
She glanced around at Major Von Mundel’s stony face. He was a different matter entirely.
As they emerged from the curtains, he said, ‘When is the doctor coming?’
‘I expect he’ll be here shortly,’ said Dora, suppressing her irritation.
‘I’m worried about Schultz, bed three,’ Von Mundel said. ‘I believe he needs his medication changed.’
‘I’m sure Dr Abbott knows what he’s doing,’ Dora said tightly.
‘I hardly think so. Dr Abbott is barely more than a schoolboy,’ Von Mundel snorted.
Dora didn’t reply. Things were already sour enough between her and Major Von Mundel.
She really wished they hadn’t got off to such a bad start. It was her fault for letting her temper run away with her at their first meeting. But he’d been so superior, all she’d wanted was to take him down a peg or two.
But now, a week later, she regretted it. Especially as they had to work so closely together in Helen’s absence. More often than not, it was Dora who had to deal with Major Von Mundel. And she was the one who had to bear the brunt of his arrogance.
He was really only there to translate, but he couldn’t resist interfering in other ways, too. Whenever Dora had to give an injection or administer medication, he would be standing there peering over her shoulder down that long, straight nose of his, questioning everything.
It might have been easier if Helen had been there, but she was often absent from the ward. Lorry-loads of wounded soldiers arrived every day, and Helen spent most of her time on the other ward with Dr Abbott.
Von Mundel followed Dora now as she made her way to the next bed, a sullen-looking young man with a fractured knee who had been brought in two days previously.
‘Hello, ducks, how are you feeling today?’ Dora greeted him. Behind her, Von Mundel let loose with a rapid volley of German that she was sure had nothing to do with what she’d said. The young man replied at length, and soon the pair of them were having what seemed to be a heated conversation back and forth over her head. From the frown on his face, Von Mundel didn’t seem pleased about something.
Dora tried to get on with her job of checking the young man’s splint. But before she could lay a hand on him, Von Mundel announced, ‘This patient says he is in great pain. I suspect he has a wundliegen. A – a—’ he searched for the English word. ‘A sore,’ he said finally. ‘On his leg.’
Dora shook her head. ‘Oh no, that can’t be. Nurse Jenkins checked his splint yesterday. She would have noticed and done something about it if there had been any sign of a pressure sore.’
‘You think so?’ Von Mundel’s brows rose above his cold blue eyes. ‘Because I can see merely by looking at it that this splint is too tight.’
He was right, Dora thought. There did seem to be a lot more pressure on his leg than she would have liked. With a sinking heart, and aware of Von Mundel watching her, she removed the young man’s dressing.
Sure enough, there was a large, purplish bruise, the skin already broken from where the splint had rubbed against it.
Von Mundel inspected it over her shoulder. ‘Your Nurse Jenkins is clearly not very observant,’ he commented. ‘Or perhaps she didn’t care to notice it?’
Dora lifted her chin to look at him. ‘Nurse Jenkins is extremely dedicated.’
‘Like your oberschwester?’ He looked around. ‘Where is she, by the way?’
Dora ignored his remark. ‘I’m sure it was a genuine mistake on Nurse Jenkins’ part,’ she insisted, blushing. ‘But I’ll have a word with her and make sure it doesn’t happen again.’
‘I do not think she will pay much attention to you!’ Von Mundel gave a snort of contempt. ‘It seems to me the nurses here do as they please, since the oberschwester is hardly ever here to discipline them.’ He looked up and down the empty ward. ‘Where are they now, Nurse Riley? I can’t see them tending to the patients, can you?’
‘I—’ Dora opened and closed her mouth, lost for words. She gazed down at the festering sore on the young man’s leg. She wanted to argue, but deep down she knew Major Von Mundel was right.
As soon as she had finished her duties, Dora hurried off to confront Kitty and Miss Sloan.
She found them in the sluice, cleaning bedpans. Dora could hear their merry laughter from halfway down the passage as she approached. Usually their chatter wouldn’t have troubled her, but now it made her burn with rage.
She threw open the door, so suddenly Miss Sloan dropped the bedpan she was polishing. It fell to the tiled floor with a noisy clatter.
‘Oh, Nurse Riley, you startled me—’ she started to say, but Dora cut across her.
‘Why didn’t you check bed six’s splint yesterday?’ she demanded, turning on Kitty.
‘I did—’
‘Well, you didn’t do it properly. He has a splint sore.’
Kitty didn’t look too surprised. ‘I’m sorry, Staff. I’m sure it was all right yesterday.’ She didn’t meet Dora’s gaze as she said it.
Dora shook her head. ‘I don’t understand it. It’s one of the first things you’re taught in training, to avoid unnecessary discomfort to patients . . .’
‘I said I’m sorry!’ Kitty blurted out. But there was an edge of insolence in her voice that got under Dor
a’s skin.
’Sorry isn’t good enough,’ Dora said. ‘I’ve just had Major Von Mundel tear me off a strip, and I didn’t know where to put myself.’
‘Oh, you mustn’t let him upset you, my dear,’ Miss Sloan said consolingly. ‘He just loves to throw his weight about. But he’s not even a real doctor, is he? Not one of ours, anyway.’
Dora stared at her, lost for words. The VAD must have seen the anger simmering in her eyes, because she took a step back.
‘And why are you both skulking about in here, anyway?’ Dora said.
‘We were cleaning bedpans, Staff,’ Kitty said, as Miss Sloan seemed to be struck dumb.
‘Gossiping, more like!’ Dora said. ‘What if Matron had come to inspect the ward and found no nurses there? What if one of the patients needed something?’ She saw Kitty’s lip curl and her fragile hold on her temper gave way. ‘I know you don’t care much for these men, Jenkins—’ Kitty opened her mouth to speak but Dora held up her hand to silence her, ‘but you are still a nurse at this hospital and I won’t have you treating patients in this way. You’re not only letting yourself down, you’re letting the rest of us down too—’
‘What on earth is going on here?’ Helen appeared in the doorway. ‘I could hear the commotion halfway down the passage.’ She looked from Dora to Kitty and back again. ‘Well?’
‘Nurse Jenkins failed to check a patient’s splint properly, and now he has a sore,’ Dora said, her gaze still fixed on Kitty.
Helen turned to Kitty. ‘Is this true, Nurse Jenkins?’
‘I did check it, Sister,’ Kitty insisted. ‘It was all right yesterday.’
‘All right, my eye! Sores like that don’t come up overnight,’ Dora put in.
‘It’s all right, Nurse Riley, I will deal with this,’ Helen said mildly. ‘Jenkins, please make sure this doesn’t happen again.’
‘No, Sister.’
‘I want you to go and treat the patient’s wound with antiseptic powder, and then apply a dry aseptic dressing.’
‘I’ve already done it,’ Dora said sullenly.
‘Thank you, Nurse Riley. Then I think it’s all been taken care of.’
As Helen left the room, Dora caught the smug look on Kitty’s face. She’d got away with it.
Furious, Dora followed Helen to her office.
‘Yes?’ Helen said, as Dora closed the door behind her. ‘Was there something else you wanted?’
‘Is that it?’ Dora said, scarcely able to contain her anger.
Helen looked at her blankly. ‘I don’t understand—’
‘Kitty Jenkins broke the rules and caused harm to a patient. She should be sent to Matron.’
‘It was only a splint sore!’
‘It doesn’t matter. She should still be punished, to make sure it doesn’t happen again.’
Helen’s brown eyes flashed. ‘Are you trying to tell me how to do my job, Nurse Riley?’ she snapped.
Dora stared at her. In all the years she had known Helen, she had never known her to be anything but kind, gentle and unfailingly patient. She scarcely recognised the hard-faced young woman on the other side of the desk.
‘As I said, it was an honest mistake, and I’m sure she’s learned her lesson,’ Helen said quietly.
‘That’s the trouble. I’m not sure if it was an honest mistake,’ Dora said.
Helen frowned. ‘What do you mean? You think Nurse Jenkins might be trying to harm the patients deliberately?’
‘I don’t know if I’d go that far,’ Dora said. ‘But I think she’s neglecting her duties. She doesn’t want to be here, you see.’
Helen gave a small, sad smile. ‘Do any of us?’ she said.
Dora looked at her. ‘I don’t know what you mean . . .’
Helen sat back in her seat. ‘I saw a great many things while I was stationed abroad,’ she began. ‘Terrible, awful things. I learned to dislike the Germans for what they did and the destruction they wreaked, and the lives they ruined. If you’d witnessed half what I have . . .’ her voice trailed off.
‘Is that why you came home?’ Dora asked.
Helen’s gaze dropped to the paper lying on the desk in front of her. ‘I couldn’t bear it any more, so I put in for a transfer,’ she said. She paused for a moment, then looked up at Dora. ‘Surely you must feel the same?’ she appealed. ‘After what happened to your family?’
For a moment, Dora allowed all the thoughts she kept so carefully at bay to flood into her mind. Danny’s death, the loss of her home, the constant fear she felt for Nick . . . There was so much tragedy; if she allowed herself to think about it too much, she would have gone mad.
‘They’re our patients,’ she insisted. ‘Whether we like it or not, we have a duty to look after them.’
‘You wouldn’t say that if – ‘ Helen broke off.
‘If what?’ Dora pressed her.
‘Nothing.’ Helen gave her a sad smile. ‘I just wonder what you’d do if your sense of duty was tested as mine has been. If it was, perhaps you might not be so quick to judge the rest of us.’
Chapter Ten
It was teatime on a warm late June evening, and for once Dora was due to go off duty early when the ward telephone rang to say another lorry-load of wounded prisoners was on its way up from the coast.
‘It’s all right, Staff, you get yourself home,’ Miss Sloan insisted stoutly, her shoulders squaring. ‘We’ll hold the fort, won’t we, Nurse Jenkins?’
Dora glanced at Kitty, who looked mutinous but said nothing.
‘It’s nice of you to offer, Miss Sloan, but I’m not sure you can,’ Dora said. ‘You’ll be rushed off your feet in no time without help.’
‘But you were so looking forward to spending time with your little ones . . .’ Miss Sloan bit her lip, genuinely upset.
‘It can’t be helped.’ Dora fastened the strings of her clean apron. ‘Now then, how many did they say were coming?’
‘At least twelve, I believe.’ Miss Sloan’s gaze travelled around the already overcrowded ward. ‘But where will we put them all, Nurse?’
‘That’s a good question.’ Dora paused for a moment, assessing the situation. She already had a rough idea where they might put the extra beds, but she couldn’t do anything without orders from the ward sister. ‘You’d best go and fetch Sister Dawson. She’ll tell us what to do.’
Major Von Mundel had been hovering nearby, pretending to speak to a patient. But Dora knew he’d been listening to every word while she was on the telephone. Now he approached her, his hands locked behind his back in his usual upright stance.
‘Did I hear you say more patients are on their way?’ he asked.
Dora nodded. ‘They should be here in an hour, depending on the roads.’
Dr Von Mundel looked around, frowning, and Dora could tell he was thinking exactly the same as her. ‘Where will you put them all?’ he said.
‘I’m sure we’ll think of something.’
‘And where is the Oberschwester? Absent as usual, I think?’
‘I’ve sent for her.’
‘Yes, but will you find her? Your Sister Dawson is elusive, like the Scarlet Pimpernel.’
Dora gritted her teeth. She didn’t know which irritated her more, Helen’s frequent absences or Von Mundel’s delight in pointing them out to her.
She had tried to understand why Helen disliked working on the POWs’ ward so much. But Dora had never known her friend to shrink from doing her duty, no matter how difficult it was for her.
She only hoped that Helen didn’t let them down this time, when they desperately needed her help and guidance.
But her hopes sank five minutes later, when Miss Sloan returned to say that Sister Dawson had already gone off duty at five o’clock.
It’s all right for some, she thought. By rights, she should have gone off duty at five herself. By now, she should be giving her twins their tea and playing games with them.
‘Typical,’ Major Von Mundel muttered. ‘Well, Nurse Riley, i
t looks as if you are in charge. Again,’ he added. He smiled thinly, as if he was going to enjoy watching her make a mess of the situation.
Ignoring him, Dora turned to Kitty, and said, ‘Jenkins, I want you to go and see Mr Hopkins, get him to send up some extra beds. And we’ll need some orderlies to help us too, as many as he can spare.’
‘And where do you intend to put all these extra beds?’ Dr Von Mundel asked.
‘I should think we could fit at least another four in here—’
‘Out of the question!’ Dr Von Mundel snapped. ‘The men are already packed in as it is.’
‘—and we can put another bed in each of the private rooms, so that’s another three,’ Dora went on, not listening. ‘And three more can go in Sister’s sitting room.’
Dr Von Mundel gave a snort of derision. ‘Let’s hope none of the men are infected, or it will spread like wildfire.’
Dora resisted the urge to tell him to shut up, and turned instead to Miss Sloan.
‘Can you find some more bedlinen?’ she said. ‘Go down to the laundry and round to the other wards, and beg, steal or borrow whatever you can. It doesn’t matter what state it’s in. We’ll mend the sheets ourselves if we have to!’
The next half-hour or so was a blur of activity, as the orderlies appeared with beds and mattresses. Dora hurried up and down the ward, moving lockers and cupboards to make room for them.
One of the guards, the shorter and stockier of the pair, came to lend a hand. Dora noticed how he kept looking at Kitty. The poor young Scotsman had been watching her for over a week, but she never spoke to him, or even looked his way if she could help it.
‘Thank you,’ Dora said, as the guard lifted a heavy cupboard easily into place.
‘That’s all right, Nurse.’ He straightened up, pushing his cap back to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. ‘Although it wouldn’t hurt him to lend a hand, would it? Especially since it’s his lot we’re doing it for.’
Dora looked at Dr Von Mundel, who stood at the far end of the ward, watching the proceedings with a look of icy disdain.
A Nightingale Christmas Carol Page 7
