But the other nurses were fearful of her temper. At times like that, May dearly missed her friend, Maureen, the keeper of peace amongst them.
As they now congregated in the luxuriously warm downstairs bedroom to study, there was a distinct atmosphere of unease. It was plain by the indignant look on her face that Valerie objected to May being there.
The night started reasonably well, as the student nurses fired medical questions at each other. The two beds were littered with medical textbooks, papers and pencils, while ‘Bones’ the skeleton they’d pinched from the classroom hung from a hook behind the door, with his empty eye sockets and ghoulish smile.
‘How would you prepare an intravenous injection for—’ Eileen began.
May interrupted, ‘Don’t ask me first, me mind’s gone blank.’
‘Nobody’s asking you.’ Valerie’s tone was sharp.
‘Before an injection,’ Eileen hastily intervened, ‘a nurse must approach the patient, draw the screen around his bed, tell him he is going to have an injection…’ She did her best and the tricky moment passed.
The atmosphere tense, May was aware of Eileen giving the other two nurses a nervous glance, so she kept her counsel and went to great lengths to avoid an argument, as she could tell Valerie wanted any excuse to quarrel.
‘I’m off upstairs,’ she finally declared, deciding it was obvious she wasn’t going to learn anything that night. Besides, despite the heat, she felt shivery cold and wanted to be beneath the bedclothes with a stone hot water bottle.
‘Why? Aren’t we good enough?’ Valerie was gunning for an argument.
May, now frustrated beyond reason, retorted, ‘Valerie, it’s useless talking to you when you’re in this kind of mood.’
Valerie glared at her but before she could reply, May shot off the bed and made for the door. At this moment she loathed Valerie, but paradoxically she felt a kind of sympathy too as the lass could no more help the way she reacted than May, who once upon a time couldn’t help loving Billy to distraction – which had proved self-destructive too.
‘Night!’ She opened the door and made for the bedroom upstairs, the sight of Valerie’s spiteful expression lingering in her mind’s eye.
The only redeeming thing about the situation was that she’d have the early night she’d promised herself.
Sometime during the night, May, hot and sticky with a temperature, awoke to the sound that brought fear and trepidation into the sturdiest heart – the air raid siren. Before she had time to turn back the bedclothes, enemy raiders droned overhead – the noise so thunderous, it sounded as though the raiders skimmed over rooftops.
May, jumping out of bed, peeked from behind the thick blackout curtain and gazed up at the sky. As wave after wave of bombers travelled across the heavens, May was thankful no black blobs fell from any of the planes’ bellies. The raiders, seemingly not interested in the coast, were probably making for airfields further inland. May’s heart was heavy; she felt for the poor souls who’d cop Jerry’s wrath this night.
In the early hours she finally got to sleep and the next morning, as she looked into the mirror, May saw dark swathes beneath her eyes. She sighed. So much for a peaceful and restorative night. But her cold did feel better.
She thought of those folks who’d borne the brunt of the enemy in the night and who wouldn’t know this morning’s light. She couldn’t dwell on it because she’d be eternally depressed. She took a deep and steadying breath. She had a job of work to do.
She dressed in her uniform and went down to a breakfast of oatmeal, a slice of bread, margarine and homemade jam.
Valerie, sitting opposite, avoided any eye contact.
As May arrived on the ward, she put her cloak in the cloakroom and reported to the office.
‘Nurse Robinson reporting for duty, Sister.’
Sister Jordan, sitting in a captain’s chair behind her office desk, looked surprisingly as weary as May felt.
Night Sister came to give the report and when she left, Sister Jordan addressed the nurses on day duty.
‘Breakfast has arrived,’ she told them briskly. ‘I’ll be ready to serve as soon as I’ve finished reading this report on the new patient. You, Nurse Robinson, can feed the patients who aren’t able to feed themselves.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘We have a busy day ahead.’ Sister’s eyes travelled the staff. ‘There is a long list of operations.’ She faltered. ‘The pilot admitted yesterday in bed one has had his leg amputated below the knee. The surgeon says there’s hope yet to save the other one. Keep a close eye on him, nurses.’
‘Yes, Sister,’ they chorused.
May moved onto the ward and began the task of giving the infirm patients a drink from a china cup with a spout.
Making her way to the kitchen, May passed bed one, noticing the metal cage in the bed that protected the pilot’s leg. His thin, wan face watching, he looked older than his years. May smiled and glanced at his chart that hung over the end bed rail. His name caught her eye.
Phillip Jordan.
Sister, May thought, had given out breakfast and done her duty around the ward without a hint of the suffering she must surely be feeling inside.
* * *
‘Nil by mouth for Mr Foster, Nurse, he’s first on the list for surgery. He was prepped earlier.’ Sister Jordan was relentless with tasks this morning.
‘Yes, Sister.’
The morning wore on and then it was time for the drinks round. May wheeled the trolley onto the ward.
Sister walked over from the medicine cabinet. ‘Nurse. You are to report to Matron’s office.’
Crikey! What had May done now?
‘Shall I finish the drinks first, Sister?’
‘No, Nurse… I suggest you hurry. Run along now.’
May knocked and waited outside Matron’s door. Her mind went through all the misdemeanours she could possibly be accused of. She hadn’t run anywhere and all her night attire was out of view in the bedroom and she was never late…
Footsteps tapped from behind and when she turned, Valerie Purvis stood glowering at her.
Then the office door opened and Matron appeared. ‘Enter, Nurse Robinson. You too, Nurse Purvis.’
As she entered, the heat belching from the cast iron radiator made the room both stuffy and claustrophobic. Standing alongside Valerie in front of the desk, May was struck by the thought that maybe Matron was aware that the two of them were at loggerheads, for nothing escaped her; she had eyes and ears everywhere.
‘Nurses.’ There was gravity in both Matron’s voice and expression, and May prepared herself for a reprimand. ‘Mr Gardener has been in touch.’
At first, May didn’t grasp who that was.
‘Maureen’s dad?’ Valerie’s voice held surprise.
‘Prepare yourself for a shock,’ Matron told them. ‘I’m sorry to inform you both but your friend and colleague was killed during an air raid.’
May heard the words but they didn’t register.
Matron went on, ‘Mr Gardener telephoned to inform me there was a raid during the night and Nurse Gardener made with the others for the convent shelter in the cellar. She realised one of the convalescing patients staying at the convent was missing and went back to search for them. By the time the fire brigade arrived, the convent was a raging inferno and…’ Matron swallowed and looked noticeably sad. ‘Nurse Gardener didn’t emerge.’
A silence followed as the two of them digested the news.
‘Mr Gardener,’ Matron continued, ‘asks that I tell you he is grateful as he knows how close you girls were and thanks you for the friendship you showed to his daughter. It means a lot to both him and Mrs Gardener.’ Matron drew herself up. ‘You may go to Parklands and make yourself a sweet cup of tea. Stay only until breaktime – it will give you time to digest the news, then return to your ward. Work is a great healer. First, you must inform your ward Sister that I’ve advised leave of duties till then.’
‘Yes, Mat
ron.’
As they filed out of the room, Matron handed May an envelope.
‘For you,’ she said.
* * *
Valerie hurried off along the corridor and May found herself alone outside Matron’s office.
She didn’t know what to do or what she wanted, but the urge to scream at a God so lapse he didn’t take care of his own made May beside herself with anger.
Maureen was dead. May wanted to run and not stop until she was so physically exhausted, she’d fall into a comatose sleep where it would be impossible to think.
No way could she do as Matron suggested and go to Parklands, where memories of Maureen abounded.
When May returned to the ward, Sister was wheeling the medicine cabinet back into place.
She beckoned to May to join her in the kitchen.
Sister closed the door and faced May. ‘Matron told me about Nurse Gardener. You have my condolences.’ Her eyes clouded. ‘We… live in difficult times.’
Maureen was dead. May couldn’t take it in.
‘Matron says I’m allowed to go back to Parklands till breaktime.’ May’s voice sounded muffled.
‘Is that what you want, Nurse?’
‘I… not really.’
She would never see Maureen again.
Sister took a deep steadying breath. ‘In times of trouble a nurse hides her personal feelings and gets on with the job in hand.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘Keep busy, Nurse, till you drop,’
The door opened and Richard Bentley came in. He looked startled, as if he knew something was up. ‘I’ve brought the dinner trolley,’ he told Sister.
‘Thank you, porter.’
As he left, Richard gave May a concerned glance.
The morning was busy, getting patients to and from surgery, and then attending to aftercare. As Sister advised, May got on with the job but she felt numb. Nothing she did seemed real as she went through the motions.
But that was better by far than feeling the pain of Maureen’s death. May feared she’d dissolve into tears and never stop crying.
At dinner time, instead of going to the canteen, May opted to go to the ward’s visitors’ room, where she sank into one of the red-cushioned high-backed chairs. In the solitude, where posters on the walls blared war-time messages, it seemed the atmosphere was charged with relatives’ grief.
May took the letter Matron had given her out of her pocket.
My dear May,
Forgive me that this is an impersonal letter but I can’t venture out of the house, as I don’t trust my emotional state, because the pain of my daughter’s death is too raw.
I want you to know Maureen told me about you and how she was lucky to find such a good friend.
She told me of your discussion about how she felt suffocated and how you suggested she speak to us, her parents, and told her that we only want what is best for her.
I won’t lie. At first, I resented your interfering and thought you a busybody who should mind their own business. I realised later that was the fear of losing Maureen that was talking.
I’m so grateful to you. I could never forgive myself if my only child had gone to the grave and we hadn’t made up. We had, and I gave her my blessing to follow her vocation in life. I realise our children are only on loan and we must learn to let go when the time is right.
I asked Maureen’s forgiveness and now I have peace of mind.
Thank you, my dear child
Maureen is with her maker now. Remember her not with sadness but with the happy memories you shared together. God willing, one day I too will be able to do so.
Elizabeth Gardener
Tears streamed down May’s cheeks, dripping onto her uniform. Brushing them away with the back of her hand, she folded the letter and put it back into her uniform dress pocket.
She sniffed hard and stood up. She had patients to attend to. The ache of sadness afflicting her wouldn’t go away and nor would May want it to. It showed how much Maureen meant to her. She would live on forever in May’s memory.
I’ll be at your side wherever you go.
As she opened the door and stepped into the corridor, May smiled through her tears.
* * *
The first person May saw on the ward was Richard, wheeling a patient back from surgery. Did the man have no work to do other than on this orthopaedic ward? She reported to Sister that she was back on duty.
‘That’s the last of the patients back from surgery, Nurse.’ Sister looked at her keenly and May was aware of her red blotchy eyes. ‘I suggest your first job is to see to the laundry bags… then tidy the ward in readiness for visiting. Bed tables cleared and screens around those patients who have had operations.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘Only two visitors to each bed. No exceptions. I want an orderly and quiet ward this afternoon.’
May made for the laundry room, passing Richard in the corridor, pushing an empty trolley. He gave her an intense look.
She ignored him.
The afternoon passed swiftly and May dreaded the return to Parklands, particularly facing Valerie, for she didn’t know how the lass would react. May just wanted peace and quiet to grieve and reminisce.
‘Nurse Robinson, off duty,’ she told Sister Jordan at the end of her shift.
Sister was speaking to the pilot in the first bed. May’s fragile mind wondered how he was related to her – but Sister Jordan, in charge of the ward, would keep her personal life private.
May left the building and was surprised at the relatively mild February air. She didn’t need to huddle beneath the cape she wore as she made her way to Parklands. The night still pleasurably light, there was a hint in the breeze that spring was just around the corner. Walking down the hospital path, she emerged from the gateway.
‘That fellow hasn’t been bothering you again, has he?’
May started. She turned to see the outline of Richard Bentley leaning up against the hospital’s entrance wall.
‘What a fright you gave us. What are you doing here?’
His easy-going smile made her hackles rise and May couldn’t explain why.
‘Waiting for you.’
‘Why?’
He stood up and towered above her.
‘I was concerned about you.’
His wide sensuous mouth had full lips and he had a dimple in his right cheek when he smiled. Richard, she realised, had the knack of making May feel that every word she uttered was important.
She told him, ‘I’ve been informed that a good friend of mine…’ She heard the wobble in her voice and it took all her willpower not to cry. ‘…died in a London raid.’
‘The probationer. It’s all around the hospital.’ His rich deep voice was soothing to her. ‘She was special.’
Reality hit like a hammer and May couldn’t help the tears that spilled from her eyes, trickling down her cheeks.
She began to walk away.
‘Wait.’ With long strides, he caught up with her. Fumbling in his jacket pocket, he brought out a handkerchief and handed it to her. ‘You’re in no fit state to be on your own tonight. Is there someone you can be with?’
At that moment, a thin woman with a coarse face and disgruntled expression walked towards the gate. May recognised her as a hospital ward maid. The woman, looking from Richard to May, shook her head in disgust.
‘Shame on yi’, consorting with a conchie.’ She hurried off as if she might be tainted.
‘You’d best go. You don’t want to be seen associating with me.’ Richard gave what appeared to be a shrug of regret.
May, unable to control her emotions, felt a spark of anger towards the woman ignite within her.
‘Why must people be hateful towards one another? That woman doesn’t know you, yet she condemns you.’
You can talk, the voice of honesty spoke in her head.
Richard shrugged. ‘It’s human nature. You don’t know what that woman might be going through; I mig
ht just be bearing the brunt of her suffering.’
As she looked at him, how calm and collected he appeared, May realised she felt a little out of control. In a bolt of clarity, she understood that the cause was fear – fear that death could creep upon you any minute like it had with Maureen.
In her distress, she thought of all the innocents, Maureen’s parents, Richard’s…
‘Your mam and dad, how they must suffer.’
Richard didn’t reply at first but his jaw worked.
‘Having me as a son, you mean?’
‘No. I didn’t—’
‘As I’ve told you before, Ma and Pa disapprove. They have the same views as that woman.’
‘And the rest of your family… brothers, sisters, what do they think?’
Richard paused; as always he seemed to weigh up his words before he spoke. ‘I had a brother, but he died fighting for his country.’
May was shocked and didn’t know how to respond. What her empathetic heart did know was that Richard had suffered and the cause of his convictions went far deeper than she’d imagined. Drained by the mixed emotions of the day, she couldn’t summon up the energy to think of a suitable answer. What was certain was that with folk ostracising him, it was Richard who needed company.
‘Would you like to go for a drink?’ she asked. ‘I don’t want to be alone tonight to think.’
17
The trolleybus came to a halt at the bottom of Fowler Street and Richard helped May alight from the platform. They crossed the road and he halted outside the door of the Criterion public house.
‘No one should know us in here’ – his brow ridged into an anxious frown – ‘but you never know and gossip soon gets around the hospital. Maybe we should find somewhere safer. I don’t want you getting a bad reputation on account of me.’ He paused and looked thoughtful.
Our Last Goodbye: An absolutely gripping and emotional World War 2 historical novel Page 18
