When Judy entered the hospital she was struck forcibly by the strong smell of carbolic and the subdued babble of voices. The waiting area was crowded, but Toby walked on purposefully, stopping briefly to acknowledge a younger man.

‘I see you’ve drawn the short straw today, Ben.’

‘Henson went down with a fever, so I volunteered to take his shift. At least I feel I’m doing something useful with these poor souls who can’t afford to pay for private treatment.’

‘We’d all starve if we followed that rule,’ Toby said, chuckling. ‘I’m late for my ward round, but I’ll probably see you later.’

‘Most probably.’

Judy had to hurry to keep up with Toby. ‘Who was that?’

‘He’s a really brilliant man, but he’d rather work with the sick and needy than set up a lucrative practice in Harley Street. I’m afraid I’m not as dedicated as Dr Godfrey. It’s no wonder the patients call him Dr God.’

Judy glanced over her shoulder. Even in such a short time she had been impressed by the young doctor, who was not classically good-looking, but he had a pleasant, open countenance and she could see why his patients thought so much of him. His brown eyes sparkled with good humour, and if the warmth of his smile was anything to go by Dr God had a kind heart. Judy felt suddenly more optimistic. If Dr God represented the rest of the staff, maybe working in the hospital would be a good thing after all.

Judy returned to the lodging house with a smile on her face. She had a job at last, although she knew that it was going to be hard work. Cleaning hospital wards was not the most glamorous occupation, but as Matron had explained, it was a vital part of keeping infection at bay. The hours were long – from seven in the morning until nine o’clock at night – but the wages would pay for her room, and meals were provided while on duty.

It was not until she was in the privacy of her tiny bedchamber that the irony of the situation occurred to her: she would be working in the hospital that had saved her mother’s life. Judy took off her shawl and bonnet and laid them on her bed before going downstairs to the communal parlour. She knew from experience that it was usually deserted at this time of day, and she went to sit at the small desk situated beneath the window. Mrs Wood supplied headed paper on the understanding that her lodgers only used one sheet at a time, and that they did not include adverse remarks about their accommodation.

Judy sat down to write a letter to her mother, keeping the lines as close together as possible and using both sides of the rather inferior quality paper. At last she had something positive to pass on, and she would not have to return home a failure. If cleaning wards was not a glamorous job, at least it was worthwhile, and she would be starting work tomorrow. She could hardly wait.