The Fair Wind: A moving 1950s hospital romance (The Anniversary Collection Book 6)

by Lucilla Andrews

  ‘Only two more days?’

  ‘Why? What’s wrong now? Don’t tell me you are sorry to leave Catherine after all the trouble you’ve run into there?’

  ‘I can’t help it, I am sorry.’ I thought about Jean and Mrs. Ellis and old Mrs. Verity. ‘I detest the thought of leaving all my nice women; it’ll be like saying goodbye to old friends, and I hate goodbyes.’

  The change-list was put up next morning as Sally had guessed. Jill brought me the news when she came on duty at five to one. We met in the changing-room where I was putting on a clean apron. ‘Sue, we have been separated. I’m going to Margaret Ward with Agatha! Can you imagine anything worse? Sally is coming here. You are going to Matthew and Mark Ward with Carol Billings.’

  ‘Matthew and Mark? Heads and chests, isn’t it? Oh, Jill, I am sorry we’re split up. And you’re going to Margaret Ward?’

  Margaret was a medical ward, and Tom still a medical clerk. He would no longer need to haunt Catherine. It seemed, absurdly, as if Matron and Sister Tutor were allies of Mark and myself.

  I was off duty until five. I felt very depressed all that afternoon, and even my walk in the park did not cheer me. It reminded me too much of Tom. I avoided the ducks and walked round the far side of the lake. When I went back on duty for what was to be my last evening in Catherine, as I was free at six the next day, I was still sunk in gloom. All the mistakes I had made weighed heavily on my mind. I knew they would have affected the ward report Sister Catherine must already have made on me to Matron, as those reports were handed in before a nurse left a specific ward. Sister Matthew and Mark must be well aware of my shortcomings; I did not doubt she was far from pleased at the prospect of receiving me in her ward, and if I had had any doubts Agatha had dispelled them at tea when she warned me that Matthew and Mark was considered a problem ward.

  ‘Sister Christian says Matron sends all her problem juniors there. If you can’t get on with her, Susan, I am afraid your time here will be limited.’

  I remembered Agatha’s words when I saw the almost quizzical glance Sister Catherine gave me when she told me my evening’s work. ‘You have just time to help Miss MacCrombie, before you start your washings. She may do herself tonight, provided you put everything to hand for her.’

  I had not had an opportunity to talk to Jean all day. When I drew her curtains, she greeted me enthusiastically. Her eyes were unusually bright, and her face a delicate pink. ‘Nurse Fraser, wait until you hear the day I have had! What do you think that kind Lady Almoner said to me?’

  I began to feel more cheerful. ‘Good news by the look of you. Tell me all, Jean.’

  ‘She said I was not to raise my hopes too high, but she knows of some scheme which might just be of help to my family.’ And she rattled on as I had never heard her talk before. ‘She said she was going to look into it at once for me. And, Nurse, what do you think Sister has done?’

  I half-guessed, but I did not want to spoil her happy story, so I played dumb. ‘I can’t imagine. What?’

  ‘She has written to my Bill. That was why she wanted his name and address. Oh, she should not have bothered. She asked me, would I not want to know if he had been so poorly?’

  ‘Jean, I’ve been wondering, why didn’t your mother let him know?’

  ‘For one thing, because she didn’t know his Edinburgh address; he moved from Aberdeen at the beginning of this year. For another, because she does not really know about us; she just thinks he’s ‒ well, just a friend. I never let her guess. I did not wish to worry her.’

  ‘Jean MacCrombie, it seems to me you’ve been hugging too many worries to your kind self for too long. It’s high time you dissipated a few; and high time you had a chance to relax and look as you do tonight. I can’t tell you how pleased I am about all this.’

  She sighed happily. ‘It’s many a day since I’ve talked as much as I have this last twenty-four hours.’ She reached out and caught my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘You can never know, Nurse Fraser, how grateful I am to you. I wish you were not leaving us. I’m going to miss you so much. But I’ll not forget you, Nurse, and one day, maybe, I’ll tell my grandchildren about the kind young nurse who was always laughing and doing everything wrong, and yet managed to put everything right for me.’

  Her generous words coming after my previous depression made me want to burst into tears. Sister’s head coming round the curtains prevented my giving way. ‘Nurse Fraser, will you go quickly to X-Ray for Miss Smith’s plates? They should be dry by now. Mr. Lewis is asking for them.’

  After prayers that night, Sister summoned Jill and me to the duty-room.

  ‘As you are leaving my ward tomorrow, Nurses,’ she explained, ‘I am going to tell you tonight while you are both on duty what I tell all my nurses on their final evening in my ward. And that is, the report I have given to Matron on your work.’

  Jill and I exchanged fearful glances in which our anxiety was mingled with our relief that Sister had chosen to give us this information in private and not in front of the whole ward. Jill turned from white to pink as Sister addressed her first. ‘Nurse Sims, I have found you a moderately good worker. Your attention to detail is excellent. You are tidy, quiet and pleasant with the patients once you have allowed yourself to control your self-consciousness. But you are desperately slow, and your shyness is a definite disadvantage. The patients need to be made to feel at ease and not the other way about. Your inability to hurry is going to be a constant handicap until you learn to conquer it and stand on your own feet and not trust ‒’ she glanced momentarily at me ‒ ‘that one of your colleagues will be able to help you out in your work. Nevertheless, you must not let yourself be too distressed on these counts, Nurse,’ she added kindly. ‘I feel sure in time you will be able to overcome both difficulties.’

  Jill’s face changed from pink to scarlet as she stammered a shy, ‘Thank you, Sister.’

  Sister looked me over thoughtfully. ‘Nurse Fraser, I am afraid you have left me no option but to tell Matron that I have found you untidy, deplorably careless of equipment, and lamentably absent-minded. You have no notion of method, and appear to give no attention to detail. You will never be a good nurse until you have overcome these grave faults.’

  Jill flashed me a distressed and compassionate glance as I mumbled unhappily, ‘No, Sister, I’m sorry.’ I thought she had finished, and turned towards the door.

  She called me back sternly. ‘Nurse Fraser, will you be good enough to be patient a little longer? Thank you.’ She touched the bow under her chin and straightened her back again. ‘I was dealing with the qualities of a good nurse. I had not finished with tidiness, method and a good memory. She needs to have insight in her dealings with her patients, a natural patience, and, above all, kindness. She must not merely think of her patients as cases, but as people; as, for instance, her friends, her family, and so on. I would say, Nurse Fraser ‒’ she seemed to be measuring her words ‒ ‘that beneath your often disgracefully happy-go-lucky exterior there lurks the makings of a very fine nurse. I have noticed that you can be both gentle and patient when necessary, that you are always willing to lend a hand to your colleagues, and that you have the instinctive ability to make friends with your patients. I hope that in your future wards you will train yourself to develop your natural talent for your chosen profession, and subdue those aspects of your nature which, though natural to you, have no place in a hospital ward. And now ‒’ her glance included us both ‒ ‘I will just add that although I have had many more promising juniors than yourselves, I have also had many nurses pass through my hands to whom I was far less sorry to say goodbye than I am to you two. That is all I have to tell you. Off you go to supper, or you’ll be late. Good night, Nurses!’ She swept through the door that I quickly opened and vanished into the flat.

  Jill was blinking; my own eyes were misty. We smiled at each other and went out after Sister. My eyes were so clouded that I walked straight into the row of fire-buckets. The buckets jangled loudly
, like a set of cracked bells, and Nurse Dexter appeared instantly at the kitchen door. ‘What is going on out here?’ she demanded. ‘Are we having an earthquake? Oh, it’s you, Nurse Fraser! I might have guessed. I have never yet seen you look where you are going.’ She was in a good mood that night, and having delivered herself of this, she smiled at us. ‘So we lose you both after tomorrow?’ She walked to the changing-room with us and waited while we collected our cloaks. ‘Where are you both going?’

  Jill said she was to work in Margaret Ward.

  ‘I’m going to Matthew and Mark, Nurse,’ I added.

  Nurse Dexter raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you indeed? I had not heard that. You can consider yourself very lucky, Nurse Fraser. Matron is very particular about whom she sends to Matthew and Mark, because the nursing there is highly specialised.’

  I remembered what Agatha Vance had said; Dexter’s version did not tally with it. As she was being so unusually friendly, I asked, ‘Nurse, do you mind if I say something?’ I repeated roughly what Agatha had said without using names.

  Dexter looked thoughtful. ‘Now where in the world could you have heard that? It is a problem ward; not for the staff problems, but for the patients. Three-quarters of both wards ‒ you know it’s divided ‒ are generally on the Dangerously Ill List. Do you really imagine that with many patients like that, Sister Matthew and Mark has time to bother with unsatisfactory juniors? That was why I said Matron was very particular as to whom she sends there; she never allows any probationers straight from Training School to work there at all. And that is also why, if you’ll forgive my saying so, Nurse Fraser, I am a little surprised, in view of certain incidents, that you should be picked. Still, Matron always knows what she is doing, and I don’t doubt has excellent reasons for her choice.’ She smiled at me. ‘Cheer up, Nurse Fraser. It isn’t like you to look down in the mouth. And quite seriously, if you are careful, you should do very well, provided you keep your mind on your work. Good night, girls, good luck.’

  We thanked her, then staggered into the corridor.

  We wandered down the wide hall in a happy silence. Suddenly Jill stopped. ‘What was that?’

  ‘What was what?’ I stopped too.

  She looked round. ‘It sounded like someone crying.’

  ‘Can’t be. There’s only us and the busts of the famous here ‒ no, wait.’ I had caught a glimpse of white behind Miss Nightingale’s statue at the far end of the hall. I walked back quickly and peered round the broad base of the eight-foot high statue. A nurse was sitting on the base in the shadows; her back was to me, but she had a junior cap, and beneath it I recognised the owner of the pale gold, neat bun. I stepped closer. ‘Agatha! What’s up?’ I said softly.

  Agatha Vance glanced up and shook her head; for once she seemed incapable of disapproving of me. ‘Do go away, Susan. Please.’

  I hesitated. I could hear Jill’s steps approaching. I nipped round the other side of the statue. ‘You go on, Jill. Keep me a place. I’ll be with you in a minute.’

  ‘But who ‒’

  ‘Go on!’ I took her by the shoulders and swung her round.

  She did as she was told, so I went back to Agatha and sat on the step by her. I noticed she was weeping into her apron, so I thrust a clean handkerchief into her hand and went on sitting by her. At last she looked up. ‘I don’t see why you have to wait!’ she snapped in her more usual tone. ‘What do you care if I’m upset?’

  I said, ‘Having been in the doghouse so many times myself, I know how lonely it can be. What’s got you down, Agatha? Did Sister Christian give you a tough report?’

  ‘How did you know that?’ she demanded.

  ‘I don’t. I’m just guessing. I’ve just had one from Sister Catherine myself. She told me I am untidy, disgracefully careless with equipment, lamentably absent-minded, have no idea of method, and have no attention to detail. Now. Can you beat that?’

  She gaped at me. ‘She said that to your face?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you could bear it?’

  ‘Not really. I just had to.’ I waited a couple of seconds, then asked, ‘What did Sister Christian say to you?’

  Poor Agatha choked. ‘She said I was too pompous and too apt to behave as if I owned the ward, and too proud to learn.’ She wept afresh into my clean handkerchief. ‘I was so sure I was going to get a good report. I have tried, Susan. I really have. I’m not like you.’

  I said, softly, ‘You’re wrong there, Agatha. I’ve tried, too. Maybe we both tried too hard in the wrong way.’ I waited a little longer until she had calmed down, then stood up and held out my hand. ‘Come on, let’s go to supper. We are late already, and if you hang about much longer, you’ll get as bad a name for unpunctuality as myself.’

  She stood up reluctantly. ‘Does my face show?’

  I guessed what she meant. ‘It does a bit. Look, why not nip into Casualty changing-room and rinse it quickly. Being fair, your red eyes do show up. I’ll hang on here and wait and then we can go in together.’

  She hesitated. ‘Are we allowed to use that changing-room?’

  ‘Of course not. But what does that matter? It’s never used at night when the students have gone. If anyone asks you what you are doing, say you’ve got something in your eye and want to wash it out before you go into supper. That’ll make sense.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind waiting? I would rather go in with you than go in alone like this,’ she added grudgingly.

  ‘I don’t mind. It won’t be the first time I’ve been late. But hurry, girl!’

  ‘I will.’ She managed a smile. ‘Thanks, Susan. You’ve been nice.’

  ‘Then you had better call me Sue. Get on, Aggie!’ I thought she was going to explode when I shortened her name, but she controlled herself, managed another little smile, and vanished in the direction of the students’ changing-room.

  I sat down on the foot of the steps to wait. I was quite safe sitting there, for I knew how invisible Agatha had been from the other side. Or rather, I thought I was invisible, until I noticed a shadow a little way off ahead detach itself from the wall and move forward into the light. Tom Dillon towered above me.

  I jumped up. ‘Hallo! I didn’t see you. How long have you been standing there?’

  ‘Too long, I’m afraid,’ he answered regretfully. ‘I had no wish to be a spectator, but I thought that poor girl would be happier if she thought she had no audience but yourself. She was pretty cut up.’

  ‘Yes. I’m afraid she is. She had high hopes, and so this has hit them very hard.’

  ‘Don’t you have high hopes?’

  I realised that he must have heard all I said, too. ‘Yes. But I’m a little more used to having them hit than she is. What are you doing here at this hour of the night?’

  ‘I was standing-in in Casualty for one of the other chaps. I’ve finished now. I’m on my way out.’

  I did not like to point out the fact that the hospital exits did not lie through the dining-room. I guessed he had come this way to catch a glimpse of Jill, and was glad that he had been rewarded. I told him about the change.

  ‘Jill is going to Margaret Ward. You know Jill Sims, I expect? And I’m going to Matthew and Mark.’

  He seemed interested, which did not surprise me. ‘When does this take place? Tomorrow? Won’t we see either of you in Catherine on the round?’

  ‘You’ll see me unless the round goes on into the evening. I’ve got an evening off.’

  ‘Oh! Are you ‒ booked or something?’

  I had to look up at him then. He had taken so long to get those words out, and I did not want to seem impolite and irritated by his shy manner. If I had continued looking away, I was afraid he might have thought me both. I said, brightly, ‘Yes, I am. I’m having supper with your friend Mark Jonathan. Didn’t he tell you?’

  He took even longer to answer. He looked at me for several seconds, then I heard Agatha’s footsteps coming back. Then he said, ‘No. He told me he was going out. H
e didn’t say with whom. But of course it was bound to be with you.’

  I was just about to ask why, when Agatha appeared. Tom promptly melted into the shadows again. Agatha was too anxious about being late to notice him. ‘We had better hurry, Susan ‒ Sue. Sorry you’ve had to waste so much time.’

  I smiled faintly. ‘That doesn’t matter. I’m always wasting something.’ And luckily she was still too upset to bother to ask what I meant by that.

  Chapter Six

  Mark Jonathan arrived at the Home at exactly seven o’clock next evening. He said he had two vital questions to put to me. ‘One, are your feet up to a ten-minute walk? Two, do you like Italian cooking?’

  I answered yes to both questions, and we strolled at a pleasantly leisurely pace down the side-streets just beyond the hospital, in the direction of the docks. Our walk was interrupted frequently by various acquaintances of Mark’s, who greeted him with amicable waves. When we arrived at the small, spotless restaurant that was bright with scarlet tablecloths and lamps made from empty Chianti bottles, I asked Mark how he knew so many locals.

  ‘We’ve lived in our flat just round the corner for the last five years.’ He jerked his fair head at the door. ‘On top of that, Tom and I worked on our midwifery course in this District. That made us part of the scenery. There’s nothing like midder for making pals for life.’

  Over our meal, Mark asked if I had done any solid thinking on the subject of match-making.

  I fiddled with my folk. ‘I’ve done a little. How about you?’

  ‘I think the best plan would be for us to throw a little party some time next week. It will have to be next week as we’ve all got to turn out in silk hats and smooth suiting this weekend for Tom’s wedding. I suppose you’ve heard about that do.’

  ‘Yes. He told me.’