Where the Heart Lies Read Online Free PDF

one another, so she had no fear that Sadie would be left to struggle alone. ‘I expect they’re on their way now the all-clear has sounded,’ she replied as she wrapped the scarf round her neck and pulled on her gloves.
    ‘Yeah,’ said Val, ‘and Mum will make us all a cuppa. Sadie must be gagging for one by now.’ She cocked her head. ‘You will stay and ’ave a cuppa with us, won’t you?’
    The thought of a cup of proper East End tea, so strong and stewed you could stand a spoon up in it, was very tempting, but Julie shook her head. ‘Sorry, Val, but I have to get back.’ She turned to Sadie. ‘Now, you’ve got the extra food and milk stamps, haven’t you? You need to keep your strength up now you’re breastfeeding.’
    Sadie nodded and sleepily nestled down with her baby against the lumpy pillows as Val gently drew the thin blanket over her shoulders.
    Julie’s heart swelled. Every birth was a miracle, and even in these poorest of surroundings it was clear that Sadie loved her baby and would do her best for it. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she murmured, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Chapter Two
    THE LARGE VICTORIAN building in Shoreditch had started life as a private house before becoming a hostel for the young ladies who worked as clerks and typists in the nearby office blocks. Now the downstairs rooms had been turned into a clinic, with examination areas, a vast kitchen and dining room, a sluice, a laundry and a locked storeroom which housed the precious medical supplies, replacement uniforms and spare parts for the many bicycles.
    Matron’s office was on the first floor, where she supervised and controlled every moment of the thirty nurses and auxiliaries’ working day, for they were not attached to a particular hospital or clinic, and worked alongside doctors from many different practices.
    Matron Irene Starkey was a stickler for rules, and she didn’t put up with any nonsense from the young women who lived in the nurses’ hostel, regardless of their age, background or experience. Uniform was to be worn except when off duty; everyone had to be in by ten at night unless out on call; rooms were to be kept tidy, beds made before breakfast, and nursing equipment to be in pristine order at all times.
    However, Julie and the others had soon come to realise that Matron Starkey’s strict code was in no way vindictive for – like all the other matrons they’d encountered during their careers – it was clear she merely wanted the best standards of hygiene and discipline to be upheld so her nurses and volunteer aides could work with pride and efficiency, their patients safe in the knowledge they were getting the very best care.
    Matron Starkey might run the place like a sergeant major, but she was a wise old bird, for she never allowed her nurses to work in the same area of squalor for more than three months at a time. Her reasoning was that they’d all learned during their hospital training to be proficient and knowledgeable on different wards. In the same way, each district exposed them to all types of homes and families and invaluable new experiences.
    Julie’s initial training had taken four long years of battling prejudice and low expectation from those in charge before she’d qualified. But by the time she’d taken the six months’ midwifery course at the City of London Maternity Hospital in Islington, she’d learned to soften her Cockney accent and had become accepted. After a short time working there, she went on to complete another six months’ training as a Queen’s Nurse. She’d passed her exams with flying colours the previous September, becoming No. 16,988 on the Queen’s Roll, and could add QN to her SRN qualifications and earn a very decentsalary. She now proudly wore a Queen’s badge on her cap and another on a cord at her neck. For an East End girl, she’d done extremely well.
    Julie’s time in the slums of Shoreditch, Whitechapel, Holborn and