Chapter 30

Bishop called to the boys who left their beds and lined up outside their rooms. Philip, a pale ten year old, was first. Ralphie, small for his age—Bishop guessed he might be about ten—was next. Bishop continued down the line handing out glasses. When he came to the youngest, Reggie, the infamous bed wetter, he watched as he gripped the glass in both hands, gulped the water down in a matter of seconds, and then gave Bishop a mischievous wink.

Nurse B stood by the open window and kept a careful eye on the proceedings, her arms crossed over her chest, her foot tapping perhaps in counterpoint to Bishop’s everlasting patience. The curtains, pulled aside for more light, billowed in the chilly breeze, and it reminded Bishop of another Devonshire maxim: Fresh air is the essence of good health and the fastest way to a cure.

With the boys settled back in bed, engulfed in a world of white, Bishop told the nurse he’d take care of Reggie and leave the bed making to her. I’m nobody’s servant