Holly gulped but managed to keep her expression calm. ‘Right, we’d best take a look,’ she said as she approached the old man’s chair. ‘Hello, Mr Day, and how are you today?’ she asked cheerfully.

‘Eh? What did yer say, dearie?’

‘He’s deaf as a post an’ all,’ the old woman confided, then addressing her husband she shouted, ‘Pull yer clouts down, Horace. This young lady ’as come to look at yer boil.’

‘What? Arr … all right.’ The old man turned on his side and after undoing his flies he yanked his trousers down revealing a very skinny backside on which stood a huge boil that looked like a volcano.

‘Oh my, that must be so painful,’ Holly said sympathetically. It was no wonder the poor old soul was sitting on a cushion. All around the boil was red and angry-looking and the middle was full of yellow pus. ‘I’m afraid that needs to be lanced then we’ll put a dressing on it and hopefully you’ll be a little more comfortable.’ Turning to his wife, she asked, ‘Could you bring me some hot water, please, and a clean cloth.’

Twenty minutes later as she finished dressing the wound, the old man smiled at her appreciatively. ‘Cor, that don’t ’alf feel a lot better, me dear,’ he thanked her and Holly managed a wobbly smile. It hadn’t been the nicest of jobs but then, as the matron had pointed out, it was all good experience.

The next visit was in Fife Street to a young woman who had thought she was going into labour with her first child. Thankfully it had been a false alarm so she set off for Tuttle Hill next to see a young girl who had cut her leg climbing a tree.

‘If I’ve told her once not to be such a tomboy, I’ve told her a dozen times,’ her mother grumbled as Holly tried to calm her young patient.

‘Unfortunately it’s going to need a couple of stitches,’ Holly told her as her stomach turned over. During her training she had watched the doctors stitch people up dozens of times but she had never actually done it herself. Still, she told herself as she threaded the needle that had been packed for her, there’s a first time for everything and when it was finally done she felt a little glow of pride. It was very neat, even if she did say so herself. It wasn’t until she was washing her hands that she realised how much she was trembling but she kept her smile in place and after telling her patient how brave she had been she headed for the next call.

Much later that afternoon when there were only two more names on her list she arrived at a house in Shepperton Street in Chilvers Coton and a worried-looking woman answered the door to her knock.

She looked mildly surprised to see a nurse standing there and glancing over Holly’s shoulder she asked, ‘Is the doctor not with you?’