Far From Home by Ellie Dean Read Free Book Online

for that,’ said the woman, still not lifting her gaze from the paperwork. ‘If you have a cough, I suggest you make an appointment with your GP.’
    ‘I am here to apply for work, Matron,’ stammered Danuta.
    The grey eyes held little warmth as they regarded her from head to toe. ‘And what work can you do, exactly?’
    ‘I am a theatre nurse,’ Danuta replied. ‘I wish to offer my skills to this very fine hospital.’
    The eyebrows lifted, the expression hardened. ‘You’re foreign, aren’t you? Where are you from?’
    ‘Poland.’ Danuta’s gaze didn’t waver from the other woman’s cold scrutiny.
    The strong, capable hand with the square, spotlessly clean fingernails reached across the desk. ‘Your identification papers.’
    Danuta scrabbled in the shoulder bag and handed them over.
    Ragged and crumpled, stained from much use, they didn’t look particularly wholesome, and Miss Billings held them gingerly as she scrutinised the faded photograph and the various official stamps. ‘I will need to see proof of your qualifications.’
    ‘So sorry, but I do not have them. They were lost during the siege of Warsaw, but I was trained at …’
    ‘Without proof of your qualifications I cannot possibly let you loose in my hospital.’
    ‘But I am skilled theatre nurse,’ she blurted out. ‘I have worked with some of the best surgeons in Poland.’
    ‘What they do in Poland means nothing here,’ said Matron with a sniff. ‘And I’m far too busy to have to keep an eye on you all the time. As it is, your English is questionable, and I don’t think our patients would appreciate having some foreigner looking after them.’
    ‘My English is very good,’ Danuta protested. ‘As is my French and German.’
    ‘German?’ The mouth thinned and the eyes were gimlet as they studied her. ‘I can assure you there is no German spoken in
my
hospital.’
    ‘Of course, of course,’ she stammered. ‘I was only trying to impress upon you my skills.’
    ‘It takes a great deal to impress me,’ Matron said coolly. She sifted through the papers on her desk. ‘I have a vacancy in the laundry, but the post does not come with accommodation. Meals can be taken here when you are on shift, and I expect a high standard of obedience, cleanliness and efficiency.’ She eyed Danuta’s shabby clothing with disdain. ‘Uniform will be provided, but it will be up to you to see it remains in pristine condition.’
    ‘Thank you, but I would be of more use on the wards than in the laundry. Please, Matron, at least give me a chance to prove what I can do.’
    She was not to be swayed. ‘I don’t have time to deal with foreigners who might or might not have proper training. It’s the laundry or nothing.’
    Danuta realised she could get no further with this bigoted woman. ‘Then I will take it,’ she said with a sigh of capitulation.
    Her identification papers were pushed towards her along with a printed sheet. ‘Fill this in and leave it at the desk in reception. You will begin tomorrow morning at six, and your uniform can be collected from stores.’
    Danuta stuffed everything in her bag and swiftly left the room before she disgraced herself completely by bursting into tears. After all she had gone through, she was shocked at how easily one spiteful old woman could knock her confidence and make her feel worthless.
    Within moments of disembarking, Colonel Samuel J. Johnson had commandeered the station master’s telephone and organised an ambulance, as well as a fleet of jeeps from a nearby Canadian army base. Polly and the other passengers watched with barely disguised envy as the young men were driven away, for they would be stuck here for at least an hour while their train was being thoroughly inspected for any serious damage.
    Shearing Halt was on the outskirts of a tiny farming hamlet and consisted of two short platforms, a signal box and a waiting room. The station master and his wife lived in the neat red brick cottage