The Nightingale Girls follows three trainee nurses in 1930s London. There’s Dora, the poor-but-hardworking East End girl, accepted to the prestigious Nightingale Teaching Hospital because she reminds the new Matron of herself and her roommates; Millie, the dissatisfied Lady, fleeing her responsibilities for fun and sense-of-purpose; and Helen, the bookish but sad daughter of a powerful hospital trustee. They’re pretty easily recognizable tropes, but due to very varied home lives and tragic pasts, all three are unique to read.
Unfortunately, I wanted nursing and class struggles, similar to the show the publishers are drawing comparisons to. What I got was three 200 page romances. Dora undergoes some teasing and almost fails an exam because she can’t afford a book, but otherwise, her different background doesn’t factor much into the story. Likewise, the book only shows one or two classes and then moves on to using the wards as set dressing. There are patients, some of them are sick, sometimes the girls are required to attend them, but large swathes of the book feature no more nursing than cleaning and making tea.
Instead, each girl is given a romance that takes up the large majority of this very long novel. One falls for a boy from home, one is trapped in a love triangle between a good friend and a baaad boy, and one, the most interesting and consequently best, falls for a patient of a different class. I don’t mind romance, and I was expecting a love interest for each, but it drives too much of the book. The girls claim they don’t want to get married and leave their beloved jobs, but I didn’t find that to be the case based on the narration.
There are a lot of subplots and four or five other POVs that make brief appearances to drive them. The new Matron is too modern and her assistant and the trustees don’t approve. The mean girl has problems at home. One of the love interests has problems at home. Someone knows secrets about someone else. Three teachers knit and have tea. None of it’s bad, in fact it’s good to give villains motivation, but the book is too long by half and these detours frequently pulled away from the little action in the main story.
Still, I like Millie a lot, one romance really gave me the feels, and I’m kind of interested in a modern Matron at a very old-fashioned school. Unfortunately, I’m very against rape as a plot point, particularly child sexual abuse, and it’s deployed liberally in one backstory. I don’t think it was necessary and the resolution where: