A little taste to encourage you to run right out and pre-purchase Spit & Polish while the ebook remains on pre-release sale. It’s available on many platforms. The paperback will be released February 29, 2024.

Nightingale Pledge, 1935

 

“I solemnly pledge myself before God and in the presence of this assembly, to pass my life in purity and to practise my profession faithfully. I will abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous, and will not take or knowingly administer any harmful drug. I will do all in my power to maintain and elevate the standard of my profession, and will hold in confidence all personal matters committed to my keeping, and all family affairs coming to my knowledge in the practice of my calling. With loyalty will I endeavour to aid the physician in his work, and as a ‘missioner of health’ I will dedicate myself to devoted service to human welfare.”

Ruth dragged her feet up the stairs of the nursing residence, almost tripping on the risers. She was so tired. A long day of classes and reception duty hit her. At least she didn’t have to ring the front doorbell—the thought of having to wake one of the housemothers terrified her. The students called them “dragons” for a reason.

Tiptoeing down the hallway, Ruth opened her door and started to undress and put away her uniform. She carefully took off her apron and cuffs, placing the cuffs on the windowsill and hanging her apron over the radiator. She had a spot on the chest of her uniform, darn it. At least the blue and white striped material seemed to wash easily. She’d have to sponge that out before class tomorrow. She was too tired to think about it now. She cringed as her warped wardrobe door shrieked. Everything else lay silent, all of her fellow students asleep or on their night shifts. It appeared both eerie and lovely at night. Her window overlooked Lake Ontario, and the water glistened, flat as glass. She laid her black stockings carefully over the chair beside her bed and gazed out at the September moonlight. 

Suddenly, her door banged open, and a terrifying shape filled it.

“What in the name of all that’s good and holy are you doing?” The apparition, a grey-haired medusa in a long flannel nightgown, waved its arms at her. “Can’t you be quieter? Some of us want to sleep!” It turned and stumbled along the hall, thumping its feet in its hard-soled slippers.

Ruth fell back on her bed, heart racing.

Her friend Betty peeked her head around the corner. She grinned. “I see you’ve met the new matron.”

Ruth pulled Betty into the room and pulled her door almost closed. “Who WAS that?”

“Shhh. She’ll hear you. That’s our new supervisor,” Betty whispered. “Her name is Mrs. Graham, but she wants us to call her Matron. Some British thing. She trained there.”

Ruth rolled her eyes. “She scared me half to death! I’m trying to be so quiet!”

“I didn’t hear a thing until she stomped in. She’s afraid of prowlers or something. Ann got lambasted before you got in. She seems to have it in for first years.”

“Oh great,” moaned Ruth. “Just what I need is someone to yell at me unexpectedly. I thought I left that back at home with my father.”

Betty nodded, put her hand on Ruth’s. “It won’t be that bad, surely. After all, she can’t be everywhere, can she?”

“I hope not. That hair!” Ruth permitted herself another quiet laugh. “She looked like she’d been electrified!”