Pack Up Your Troubles

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‘I’m not sure yet,’ he said. ‘I’ll send the bill around to the nurseries if that’s all right?’

She nodded.

‘I suppose I’d better cover it up,’ he said. ‘In case your sister comes to the workshop.’

‘That might be an idea,’ she said. She was getting flustered again.

‘Will you call for it?’

‘I don’t want to put you to too much trouble,’ she said breathily. Their eyes met and the spell it cast was only broken when they both heard a footfall beside the door.

‘Ready yet?’ said a man’s voice.

‘Almost,’ said the Frenchie, returning to his bicycle repair. Connie turned to go and as she reached the door he called after her, ‘All the best, Connie.’

The hospital had a very distinctive smell, a cross somewhere between strong disinfectant and boiled cabbage.

Her first task when she’d arrived at the nurses’ home was to go to the central stores and be kitted out with her uniform. She was given three dresses, all pale blue, with detachable buttons which were fastened through a button hole with a split pin. She had two belts the same colour as the dresses; three white aprons, stiffly starched, two plain white caps and two pink laundry boxes each with a leather strap. The sister giving out the uniforms, a gaunt looking woman with thin grey hair, explained that laundry day was Tuesday.