A Sister's Life: The ups and downs of life as a 1950s Theatre Sister (Nurse Jane Grant Book 3)

by Jane Grant

  The young man gingerly pulled up her nightgown, and began to make curious measuring gestures with both hands, eventually marking her hip with a biro pen. He then put a plate in the machine and took a picture. There was more hanging around while he produced various stage properties; a sandbag, a red plate which she was told to hold on end, several sponge rubber pads and a wooden block.

  ‘Hold your other leg in the air, dear. No, no. Like that. See? Rest it on the block.’

  In this odd position she was photographed again, and then returned to the trolley and pushed out.

  She was not abandoned, however, for in a minute or two he put his head out of the door and told her it was OK to go. She felt quite uncomfortable at not going, suppose he came out again and asked what she was doing there? Fortunately, however, Fred appeared first, and wheeled her back to the ward. There not being a nurse about, Fred made up a very good bed and put her into it.

  She lay with a feeling of achievement, listening to the complaints of her companions.

  ‘Oh, it is hot.’

  ‘It’s too hot. I like it not too hot and not too cold.’

  ‘That’s what we never seem to get.’

  Mrs McKie felt slightly surprised at this statement. She had imagined that the type of weather described was exactly what we did get, a faithful description of the English climate, in fact. For her own part, she was quite prepared to welcome an occasional day which was too hot or too cold as a nice change.

  Next day Sister appeared on her round, and seemed more than ordinarily solicitous.

  ‘And how are you, love? Leg aching? It’s the weather, love. Mrs Rowbotham’s just the same.’

  Her kindness and care, even more pronounced than usual, made Mrs McKie wonder if it was because her X-ray having come round, she was once more in the mainstream of hospital life requiring observation and action. But Information told her of another reason. Sister was actually leaving that weekend.

  Chapter Twelve

  For some weeks I had seen very little of Don. It was the busy time on the farm, and as his father spent so much time at the hospital Don had more to do. He had to help Rhona too. He had explained all this to me and I had accepted it; but it seemed to me all the same that a barrier was growing up between us.

  The pressure of work in the theatre seemed to increase, Maitland was more and more exasperating, and I often flopped into bed at the end of a day, too tired to care about anything.

  I began to know Teddy fairly well; we got into the habit of having coffee together, and dropped into a comfortable friendly relationship. We confided our troubles to each other, and agreed on the difficulties of combining a love life with hospital routine. He presented a brave front to the world, but when I knew him better I realized that the affair with Angela, now over, had hurt him very much.

  One evening Don rang up to point out that the ball run by the Friends of Fawley Hospital was on next week. ‘Mother’s given me the tickets, provided by her dear friend Theo. Are we going?’

  ‘Crumbs, I’d forgotten it was so soon. I expect I can get off.’

  ‘You would like to go?’

  ‘Yes, unless you don’t want to.’

  ‘You’re sure you can make it? It’s no good making plans if you’re going to say at the last minute some crisis has come up and you can’t come.’

  ‘No, Don. If I say I can come I’ll come. I’ll let you know definitely by the weekend.’

  I approached Maitland, who was unexpectedly gracious. For hospital occasions of this kind, every effort was made to release staff, and Maitland herself was going. Dudley was to be on call in case a theatre emergency came up.

  I rang Don, and we arranged to meet at the Town Hall, as he would probably be late.

  ‘How will you get there?’ he asked.

  ‘Teddy will give me a lift.’

  There was a silence. I could feel Don’s disapproval humming over the wires. I hurriedly said, ‘You’re bringing Rhona?’

  ‘Yes. It seems a damned silly business. I bet she won’t have a word to say to him.’

  The climate did not seem propitious for a happy evening; however, I dressed in my new yellow evening frock and made up carefully. A spruce-looking Teddy with, for once, his forelock in its proper place, met me in the entrance hall. We got in his car and arrived at the Town Hall in the neighbouring town about nine.

  The dance, stated to begin at eight, had not of course warmed up. The enormous expanse of polished floor was empty, except for two or three isolated couples dancing to a band which was playing spiritlessly, There were a number of people sitting round at the tables that lined the hall, and some more at the bar, but they all looked as if they wished they hadn’t come for another hour.

  Teddy suggested dancing.

  ‘What do you suggest?’ I replied cuttingly. ‘The can-can? Let’s be as conspicuous as possible.’

  We went to the bar, spending as long as possible on my lemonade and his bitter. Usually we found plenty to talk about, but this was like a parting at a railway station, or the interval at a grand dinner before food is served; we were waiting for a definite event and though we searched our brains we could think of nothing to say.

  Staff Nurse Copley came up, eager to introduce her husband, a very young, rather weedy boy. She was over-anxious that we should get on well with him, and this, as always, dried everybody up. The ensuing conversation could hardly have been duller.

  ‘Ken goes up to town every day.’

  ‘Oh really? Do you? A bit tough travelling, isn’t it?’

  ‘Have to stand all the way.’

  ‘All the same, sometimes he gets home before I do. It’s awful, if I miss the eight o’clock bus I have to walk.’

  ‘Poor you. I suppose you have a lot to do when you get in?’

  ‘I’ll say. But Ken’s a wonderful cook.’ There was a silence while we all tried to think of some more dull remarks. Copley went on nervously; ‘Is Teddy a good cook?’

  ‘Teddy?’ I started visibly. ‘I wouldn’t know really, but I’m sure he is.’

  ‘Of course I am,’ said Teddy. ‘If I ever had anything to cook, I’d be a Gold Medallist.’

  I hurriedly changed the subject to the shortcomings of the hospital food, and this topic carried us on for a while, till Copley electrified me by asking Teddy and me to come and see her flat. ‘Do come and have a meal with us, when I have my next day off.’

  We tried to get out of it, but it was impossible without hurting her feelings. Copley was a nice creature and an excellent nurse. She had two vital interests, the hospital and her home, and she was always trying to knit the two together, a hopeless task. We found ourselves booked for a date ten days ahead.

  The floor was now filling up, and Teddy and I went to dance, taking the precaution of reserving a table. At Matron’s table in the corner were the Superintendent and his wife, together with one or two Honoraries with theirs. Opposite our table on the other side of the room two of the older Sisters sat together; one was dressed in a heavy dark maroon dress, floor-length, and the other, very made up, wore an expensive blue lace dress that showed up her oblong figure. Both of them had flat, lifeless hair, caused by years of starchy caps, and one of them had a mole with hair on.

  Maitland sat at a table a little further down, she was by herself, but she avoided any appearance of wallflowerism by constantly stopping passers-by and getting them to talk. She wore a beige taffeta dress with long sleeves that I had seen in the window of the local boutique. Her face was heavily powdered and she had a mauvish lipstick; her hair had been newly waved and set, but it still looked lank and staring.

  The sight of the Sisters depressed me, and my depression was not lifted when Don and Rhona came in, and I saw Don’s black looks.

  Teddy got up as they approached. Don said shortly: ‘I don’t want to sit there. Let’s go and have a drink.’

  Offended by this cavalier greeting, I said, ‘I’m full of lemonade already.’ Then I smiled at Rhona and introduced Teddy.


  ‘I expect she’s gathered who he is already,’ said Don sitting beside me. Rhona took the seat next to me on the other side, and Teddy sat where he had been sitting, opposite.

  ‘Rather a nice hall,’ said Rhona, beginning to blush. She wore a pale lemon organdie dress with tight sleeves and a full skirt; it had white polka dots and though obviously homemade, looked charming. Her hair was cut simply and curled at the ends, she wore a pale pink lipstick. She was very clean-looking, having a sheen on her skin and hair, and her eyes were bright blue with white surrounds.

  She began to talk, addressing her story to me with youthful enthusiasm. ‘A frightful thing happened on the way. We were stopped by the police! Don was furious.’

  ‘What the heck it was all about I can’t think,’ said Don. ‘Why can’t the police do their proper job ‒ they’re always making nuisances of themselves.’

  ‘He asked Don ‒ didn’t he Don ‒ for his driving licence and of course he hadn’t got it, because he had changed his money to his new pigskin wallet.’

  ‘I laughed that off,’ said Don.

  ‘But what was so grisly,’ went on Rhona, ‘was that they asked him the number of his car, and of course he gave his own car and we were in Daddy’s! I nearly died! And Don was in a fearful mood when we left home anyway, so you ran imagine ‒’ Seeing a black look come over Don’s face she added hastily, ‘It was my fault, he’d had such a rush to get dressed and I’d taken all the hot water.’

  We reverted to the story of the police, and Teddy asked Rhona if they had found the safe she had hidden in the boot. Rhona, overcome at being addressed by Teddy, gave a sickly smile and shut up completely.

  There was a silence, broken by Teddy suggesting drinks. No one took this up, so I pointed out Camden who was just entering with Angela.

  ‘Oh Lord!’ murmured Teddy, and repeated his invitation to Don to come and get some drinks. But Don had capriciously lost all desire for a drink and now wanted to dance. He got up and pulled me to the floor, and Teddy politely asked Rhona.

  When we got back to our table we found Camden and Angela standing near by. Angela, announcing that someone must fetch her a drink, sank into Teddy’s chair. Rhona sat down looking very pink and stared first at the table and then at the floor. I got into my former seat, and Don squeezed round the back of Angela’s chair and sat between her and me.

  ‘Now what are you all drinking?’ asked Camden.

  We said what we were all drinking, which took some time, and then Rhona jumped up and said innocently, ‘Can I help you carry them?’

  Camden looked at her. ‘By all means. We’ll get in an extra at the bar.’

  They went off together, Rhona flushed and giggling at something he was saying to her.

  Maitland in a casual manner approached, and stood smiling at the table. Don and Teddy, who had just sat down, were obliged to get up again.

  ‘Ah, Sister,’ she said to me, ‘so you managed to get here after all.’ She announced to the men, ‘We had such a terrible morning! I thought we’d never get away. Poor Dudley will have to cope.’

  Everyone smiled weakly. I said, ‘Well, she’s very well able to,’ then, as Maitland showed no signs of going, I added, ‘This is Don, Sister. Sister Maitland.’

  While Don reacted to this meeting with the Dragon, Teddy made the bloomer of all time. ‘Do sit down, Sister. Wouldn’t you like a drink?’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Teddy. I should like a sherry.’

  Teddy escaped. I saw Don looking at Angela, who was dazzling in black with a floating chiffon panel, a diamond star on her shoulder.

  ‘I thought I’d never get the plaster out of my nails,’ said Maitland chattily.

  Angela raised her eyebrows and smiled at Don, who said at once; ‘We’ll leave you two girls to talk shop.’ He got up ‒ and holding out a hand, led Angela off to dance.

  I was so furious I hardly knew how to be civil to Maitland.

  I wanted to go home, to be gone by the time Don came back ‒ and then to see his face when he found I wasn’t there. While Maitland talked shop, looking hopefully towards the bar for the return of Camden, I composed various cutting remarks to use on Don.

  Teddy came back, carrying two sherries. He handed her one, and then one to me with the query, ‘This is the sort you like, isn’t it?’

  Maitland said coyly, ‘Oh, you’ve trained him properly,’ a remark that was not well received by either of us.

  I asked Teddy what had happened to the original drink-bearers. He said they were knocking back sausage rolls at the bar. ‘At least Rhona is. Peter’s balancing peanuts on the back of his hand and flicking them into his mouth, and Rhona’s eating his share of sausage rolls.’ He did not mention Don and Angela, though I saw they were no longer on the floor.

  Maitland was hanging on determinedly, and I saw we were stuck with her for the rest of the evening. She was obviously going to cling like a limpet till Camden reappeared. She went on talking shop in the meanwhile.

  ‘By the way, Teddy, how did that fracture you did yesterday get on?’

  Teddy said the chap seemed all right, and from then on we were driven by desperation to sustain a conversation about our only mutual interest, the theatre. Suffering a strong sense of ill usage, I went on doggedly discussing our shortage of Spencer Wells forceps, the advantages of the new plaster bandage Teddy had tried out, and the idiotic behaviour of the catgut firm that had sent us two plain instead of two chronic.

  At last Rhona and Camden were seen approaching, each bearing three glasses, and Camden trying to balance a fourth on top of one of them.

  ‘Would you mind one of you, lapping from this glass before I spill it,’ cried Rhona, giggling a little.

  ‘We’ve just had a drink, thanks,’ I said.

  ‘Oh no. Not after we’ve been to all this trouble.’

  ‘Start lapping yourself,’ said Teddy, removing one glass and putting it safely on the table.

  ‘Do let me help,’ said Maitland, unloading some of Camden’s glasses. Don and Angela came over the floor towards us in a leisurely manner, just as the band struck up ‘The Dashing White Sergeant.’

  Rhona clasped her hands. ‘Oh, glorious! Look ‒’ she cried, turning to us. ‘No one must touch these drinks, must they, Peter? We shall need every drop and another gallon of pop after dancing this!’

  She turned to Camden, who asked mildly, ‘Can’t I decently sit this one out? My bones are creaking.’

  Her face showed abysmal disappointment. ‘Oh, Peter! We’re just right for a set.’

  Don said sharply, ‘Rhona, don’t be so bossy. Nobody wants to,’ but Camden said at once, ‘Nonsense, it’ll shake our livers up. Come on, you lazy louts. Sister, I’m sure you’ll dare to flex your knee joints?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure how you do it,’ said Maitland, pleased to be asked.

  ‘It’s dead easy,’ cried the enthusiast. ‘You can’t go wrong!’ She looked round the table.

  ‘Include me out,’ said Angela, sinking into a chair.

  ‘Don’t be a stick in the mud,’ protested Don. He looked at her clinging dress. ‘My jacket’s a bit tight too.’

  But Rhona had made a devastating discovery. ‘Oh bother! We’re seven. One of us will have to go in another set.’

  Furious with Don, I replied sedately, ‘I’ll stay and guard the lemonade,’ whereupon he looked at me and said, ‘I’ll keep you company.’

  ‘Go and jump about, children,’ said Angela. ‘I’m certainly not going to do any flings.’

  We formed a set. We went round in a circle, first one way and then the other. Maitland danced primly and correctly, with little high-pitched laughs. Camden was evidently enjoying himself, and Rhona not only did the usual steps, but all the twiddly bits and extra embellishments, while we, on the other hand, saved our breath by standing still when we were not in request.

  We broke up into three, Rhona, Camden and Maitland were in one three, Teddy, Don and I in the other. During all the advancing, join
ing hands, flings, linking arms, we remained in our own three, grimly dancing till the music stopped, which for me was none too soon. Rhona, as fresh at the end as at the beginning, clapped vigorously for a reprise, and Camden looked quite alarmed as it seemed for a moment as if she might force the music to start all over again. However, we were reprieved, and everyone left the floor.

  We returned to our table. Angela had disappeared, and was later seen dancing a waltz with a consultant. Later still, we saw her at the bar surrounded by men.

  We had refreshments, Rhona eating anything anyone else did not want. Camden and Teddy threatened to bring her a tray of sandwiches and sausage rolls all to herself.

  By this time I was the one behaving badly to Don, while he did his utmost to win me round. The men were all very polite and attentive to Maitland, taking not too obvious turns to dance with her.

  At last the evening was over. Matron, standing on the stage, drew the winning raffle tickets from a huge drum. Camden rushed on the floor and dashingly got a balloon for Rhona when they were released from the net.

  We went and got our coats and met the men in the foyer; I felt terribly tired, and though I now wished to respond to Don, I felt unable to, and when he offered to run me back and let Teddy follow with Rhona, I refused, saying we all had to get up early next day and had better make tracks for home and bed.

  Teddy drove me back, and I asked him how he had got on with Rhona.

  ‘I didn’t get very far,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t get much out of her, then I asked about her dog and she loosened up a bit.’

  ‘She was quite talkative to Camden.’

  ‘Oh yes. He’s obviously rather taken with her.’

  ‘D’you think he’ll try and meet her again?’

  ‘Well,’ said Teddy, ‘he wrote her telephone number on the back of his raffle ticket.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sister Cramphorne was a very bad substitute for Sister Sadd. There was little, Mrs McKie thought, to recommend her, except that she was nice to look at.