Poppy by Mary Hooper Read Free Book Online

enough. They were brisk and businesslike, however, and when Poppy tried to make the smallest of light-hearted remarks about the awfulness of London traffic, they did not respond.
    They wanted to know about Poppy’s background and she told them that she’d been head girl and then won a college scholarship, but had been unable to take it up.
    ‘Since leaving school I’ve been working for the de Vere family,’ she explained. ‘First in the kitchens and most lately as a parlourmaid.’
    ‘Ah yes, the de Veres,’ said the smaller, bird-like matron, as if she knew them.
    ‘But in service ,’ said the other doubtfully.
    ‘I expect that means you’re probably very good at taking orders,’ said her colleague.
    Poppy nodded emphatically. ‘Yes, I am.’
    ‘But how do you intend to maintain yourself?’ the first asked. ‘You must be aware that the positions are voluntary.’
    Poppy explained about her old schoolteacher’s generous offer. They nodded and exchanged a word or two between themselves, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying.
    ‘And, Miss Pearson, what are your people doing to help the war effort?’ the smaller matron asked.
    Poppy was relieved that she could give the right answers. ‘My father’s dead, but my brother has recently begun training with a local division of the army and my mother works in a factory at night, making munition boxes.’
    ‘And have you always wanted to be a nurse?’
    Poppy bit her lip. ‘To tell you the truth, I hardly thought that a girl like me with no medical background could do such a thing.’ She took a breath. ‘But then my old friend, the lady who is sponsoring me, told me that more and more nurses will be needed and that she thought I would be very suitable.’
    ‘And have you ever undertaken any nursing duties?’ asked the second matron, a solid woman with steel-grey hair in a bun.
    ‘Well, I nursed my mother after childbirth,’ Poppy replied. ‘And if anyone in the de Vere family was ever ill, I helped tend to them. I know how to give a bed-bath . . . Oh, and when Mr de Vere had blood poisoning from getting his foot caught in a trap, I dressed the wound every morning.’
    The first matron nodded; the other smiled. ‘And are there any other ways in which you might be especially useful to us?’
    ‘Well, I started work as a kitchen maid so I know how to keep a place spotless,’ said Poppy. ‘And I have excellent handwriting – everyone says so. I wondered if perhaps I might compose letters home for those soldiers who have broken arms or are temporarily blinded.’
    ‘Temporarily or permanently . . .’ said the bird-like matron drily, and Poppy remembered the horrific gas attacks which had recently blinded French and Canadian troops.
    The second matron added, ‘It may not always be nursing work you’ll be called upon to do. You may be asked to serve departing troops with, say, two hundred cups of hot cocoa in half an hour. Do you think you could stay calm whilst coping with that sort of pressure?’
    Poppy smiled. ‘Excuse me, ma’am, but I’m used to serving a demanding family. I don’t panic easily.’
    The two matrons exchanged glances.
    ‘Very good. Thank you, Miss Pearson, that will be all,’ said the bird-like one. ‘You will be hearing from us in due course.’
    Poppy stood up and was about to curtsey when she realised that it was no longer appropriate. She wasn’t a parlourmaid any longer – she might possibly become a respected Red Cross nurse. She thanked both the matrons for seeing her and shook their hands.
     
    On reaching Euston station after the interview, Poppy – more relaxed now – couldn’t help but watch and sigh at some of the fond farewells and tearful scenes taking place on the concourse between Tommies and their sweethearts. After witnessing one girl run the length of the platform rather than let go of the hand of her khaki-clad beloved on the train, she was dabbing her eyes when someone touched her on the