Polly Godwin knew she was lost when she smelled the Thames.
More likely it was a canal, but where on the Wandsworth Convalescent Hospital’s great grounds would a canal be? She stopped to make a map in her head. Toward west was the City of London. The railroad station, where the troop trains arrived, was south, nearer the coast. But where the water must be, she couldn’t picture.
She stood Heaven knows how many floors beneath a 100-year-old pile of granite filled with wounded soldiers from the trenches, in a maze of hallways still lit by gas lamps. Looking for a bedpan liner.
First day on her first nursing job, and it was Prank the New Girl all over again. No doubt an orderly meant to jump out at her from a cupboard. Fine chance he’d find her now.
She started back the way she’d come. In the dark behind her someone groaned with pain.
Polly turned to find a man lying on the floor, his face white as a sheet. How had they let one of the patients wander down here?
"Where does it hurt, sir," she asked, kneeling over him.
"Me gall bladder, I think," he said through clenched teeth.
Polly paused and frowned as she drew a mental map. Toward the left was the pancreas. The kidneys, that cleaned the blood, were right, by the lymph nodes. That must mean the liver is down, nearer the foot, so . . . No, wait . . .
Opening: Susan Hall-Balduf.....Continuation: Anon.