More From A Nurse's Life: More drama, love and laughter from a 1950s nurse (Nurse Jane Grant Book 2)

by Jane Grant

  I was about to defend myself on this score, when there was another knock on the door.

  Sister looked up impatiently. ‘See who it is, Nurse,’ she said quickly.

  I opened the door to see Mr Layman, Mr Carlisle’s registrar. He was a youngish, rather worried-looking man, who always treated the nurses distantly and seemed not to know what was going on around him; but although vague, he was a good surgeon.

  In my present state I did not connect him in any way with the scene in the theatre, and when he said, ‘Can I have a word with you, Sister?’ I accepted my dismissal, and went to wait outside the door.

  I strode up and down outside, thinking miserably: This is the end. Harris has messed up my career. That is one of the big faults in nursing. Too much power comes to people who can’t cope with it.

  Would I, I wondered, have time to give in my own notice? Or would I be kicked out? What could I do when I went? I wouldn’t even get a reference. I was contemplating my status as a charwoman or a lavatory attendant, when I was called back abruptly into the office.

  ‘Go off duty, Nurse Grant,’ said Sister Blythe firmly, as I stood by the door. Her expression was as blank and cold as ever, and relieved and surprised as I was at being sent off duty in time for my date, I felt I was still in disgrace.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  When I got to my room the feeling of relief left me and the thick gloom of depression again descended. That one little pip-squeak of a Staff Nurse had the power to ruin my career I did not doubt, and I was indignant at the unfairness of it all.

  My anger for the moment raised my spirits, and I became quite cheerful as I thought of some cutting remarks I should make to Harris next day; also of some detached comments on the atmosphere in the theatre that would prove to Sister Blythe that I knew what I was talking about, and was not the miserable stammering junior she had made me feel. I sat for some time on the end of my bed going over the events of the past day, making the necessary alterations in my own favour; but after a time the real situation caught up with me. I began to consider the effect this was going to have on my own life, and I had just got down to the depths again when Mary came rushing in, obviously in the highest spirits.

  ‘Hullo, honey!’ she exclaimed cheerfully, not apparently at all impressed by my long face. ‘Had a day of it?’

  ‘Aren’t you ever on duty in the evenings?’ I asked ungraciously.

  ‘Oh, Wee Willie is most sympathetic in the cause of true love. I’m going out with Mike. By the way, isn’t tonight the night for you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said miserably. ‘I feel like wrapping myself up in a ball and dying quickly.’

  ‘Oh, don’t do that!’ she cried in dismay. ‘Who could I have for a bridesmaid?’

  ‘Mary!’

  She nodded happily. ‘As soon as he’s finished this house job.’

  ‘Oh, Mary, how wonderful. You are sure?’

  ‘Yes, silly, of course I’m sure. He hasn’t proposed to anyone else for at least a week.’

  ‘Gosh, how wonderful! Oh dear, I am pleased,’ I said – and promptly burst into tears.

  ‘Heavens, what’s the matter?’ exclaimed Mary concernedly.

  I was too overcome to tell her, and she immediately assumed that I was thinking of Phyllis.

  ‘Honestly, Jane, it’s all right. We’ve known for ages we wanted to get married. And I’ve written to Phyllis and told her. Jane, don’t cry, please! Honestly, it’s all right. Don’t cry – it makes us seem so awful!’

  ‘Oh, it’s not that,’ I sobbed. ‘I’m thrilled for you, really I am. It’s just that – that –’

  ‘What?’ she demanded impatiently, as I broke into a fresh burst of sobs.

  ‘Well – just that I’ve got to leave. In fact, I think I’m getting the sack!’

  ‘Wha-a-t?’ exclaimed Mary incredulously.

  ‘I had a do with Harris, and she’s reported me to Blythe. Blythe chewed me up and sent me off like a naughty child. I don’t know what’s going to happen.’

  ‘Oh crumbs!’ was all the consolation Mary could offer. ‘If only Sister hadn’t gone on holiday!’

  I wailed. ‘Why did she choose this time to do it? I’m completely finished, you know, completely! It’s such a horrible way to end!’

  And I began to cry harder than ever.

  There was a pause. Mary said nothing but patted my back.

  ‘Why didn’t I give in my notice?’ I cried. ‘I knew I ought to have given it in. I knew I was no good in the theatre, I knew that ages ago!’

  Through clouds of misery I became aware that Mary was murmuring words of consolation. It wasn’t as bad as I thought, she was sure. Of course Blythe had to back up Harris. But it would all blow over, I would see.

  I hardly listened. I felt I should have said all that myself to anyone in my position, without believing it, but just in the attempt to say something comforting. I went on crying, but Mary’s next remark did have some effect.

  ‘What time are you meeting Douglas?’

  ‘Donald,’ I corrected irritably, offended that she should get his name wrong. ‘Seven o’clock.’

  ‘Well, might I suggest you buck your ideas up, because it’s a quarter to now. I’ll see you tonight. I’ll go up to theatres and see if anyone has heard anything. Jackie’s on night duty, isn’t she? She’s bound to know. And I’ll find out if Mike’s heard anything from the Mess.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, ashamed of my bad humour.

  ‘Now start changing, there’s a good girl. Don’t worry too much. If it’s Harris’s word against yours, Blythe must realise you have something to say as well.’

  ‘That’s just it,’ I sniffed. ‘She wouldn’t listen.’

  But Mary busied herself with getting my clothes and preparing me for my date, and once I had stopped crying she began to tell me about the preparations for her wedding. Did I think a white wedding stupid, because she wanted one? But it would cost a lot of money. And she didn’t know what Mike’s mother would think of her. Did I think she would like her?

  This question struck me as so idiotic that I started laughing.

  ‘Don’t be daft, Mary. How on earth do I know what Mike’s parents will think of you. They’ll probably tear you limb from limb for stealing their precious little boy.’

  ‘I’m dreading meeting them. We’re going down on Sunday. Next week we’re going to buy the ring. We thought we’d get an antique one.’

  In hearing details of Mary’s plans I became more detached from my own disaster, and at last I was even concentrating on the evening with Donald with some hopes of pleasure.

  At last I put the finishing touches to my face and slid into my coat, and only ten minutes late, I left Mary to clear up the debris in my room with final instructions to glean what information she could.

  Hurrying through the entrance hall, I saw Charles standing reading some notices. It gave me a shock to see him, not so much because I felt guilty, though I did, but the fact was that I hadn’t thought of him for nearly a month.

  He turned as I approached, and I noticed he looked as embarrassed as I felt.

  ‘Hullo, Charles,’ I said weakly. ‘How are you? I haven’t – er – seen you for ages.’

  ‘Hullo, Jane,’ he said without enthusiasm. ‘No – I haven’t – have I?’

  I decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘I’m – er – just going out, with rather a nice boy I met at home.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ he said. ‘Good.’

  There was a slight pause. ‘How’s your love life?’ I asked, trying to speak lightly.

  He smiled, and seemed to regain some of his old fervour. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Just fine.’

  I smiled back. ‘Who’s the lucky girl now?’ I asked.

  ‘Venus,’ was the astonishing reply.

  ‘Venus?’ I said, staggered. ‘But she’s been working with me. I didn’t know anything about it.’

  ‘I know,’ said Charles, blushing slightly. ‘It was a bit awkward
as a matter of fact. Especially as she thinks such a lot of you. We both do,’ he added, smiling disarmingly.

  ‘I know,’ I said laughing. ‘Don’t embarrass me. But the thing is, are you serious at last, you old two-timer?’

  ‘Dead serious,’ was the astonishing reply.

  ‘Charles!’ I exclaimed. ‘That’s marvellous, but you really are rather impossible. How long have you known her?’

  ‘Oh, on and off for ages. But it’s only since you went away,’ he ended weakly.

  ‘And why wasn’t I told?’ I asked in mock anger.

  ‘Oh, Jane, you’re putting me on the rack! You are an old toad.’

  ‘Okay. I know what you mean,’ I told him. ‘Congratulations, ducky. So glad we’re all growing up.’

  ‘What that cryptic remark means I wouldn’t know,’ he said grinning. ‘By the way, you’d be surprised at all I know about your doings. For instance, I gather you had a dust-up on Gynie today.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘there was a bit of a row.’ As I said it I was surprised to realise that it was no longer a matter for despair.

  ‘I’ll say there was. I heard it all from Venus.’

  ‘Look,’ I said, glancing at my watch, ‘I must fly. I’m terribly late already.’

  ‘Well, just a sec. Venus has gone to Blythe to give in her notice. She said you were the only one who made her life bearable in the theatre. And thank you for that, Jane.’

  I started to run down the steps. ‘If I’d known how I was being double-crossed,’ I called, ‘I’d have given her hell.’

  Donald was sitting in his car opposite the gates; I noticed he was looking stern and gloomy. He started the car without speaking as I jumped into the seat beside him.

  ‘How are you?’ I chirped.

  ‘All right,’ was the stony reply.

  ‘It was kind of you to ask me out,’ I said, sobering at the discouraging front he had put on.

  He did not answer, but gave a fleeting smile, a smile like that one he had flashed at Colin and me when he drove past us after I had nearly crashed his car.

  He drove on, weaving in and out of the traffic effortlessly. I did not ask where we were going, or wonder what he was thinking of me. I had the conviction slowly borne in on me that he was in sympathy with me, and my ruffled emotions were gradually becoming soothed.

  As we paused at the traffic lights I said: ‘I’ve had such a day.’

  Then the whole story came out, almost without my thinking about it, it tumbled out incoherently. I told him everything, even right down to Charles and Venus.

  He listened silently.

  I concluded, ‘It’s such a relief to tell someone who’s detached from the whole affair, like you. I’m too close to it. I can’t judge what’s happening. I only know it’s been dreadful, and I’ll have to leave.’

  ‘Did you tell this Sister all this that you’ve told me?’ Donald asked.

  ‘Well, I tried. But she wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘H’m. Do you think this doctor bod will have anything to say to her?’

  ‘Who? The Registrar? Why should he?’

  ‘Well, if he was at this operation, mightn’t he stand up for you?’

  I sighed. ‘Oh, Layman doesn’t know he’s alive. He probably didn’t notice a thing. And it would never occur to him to stand up for me.’

  There was a pause. ‘Well, anyway,’ said Donald quietly, ‘it would be nice to have you at home for a bit if you did leave. I don’t see nearly enough of you.’

  I was completely silenced, while my mind tried to digest the amazing fact that this wonderful man; this strong, generous, kind, honest man, wanted to see more of me!

  Chapter Twenty-six

  When I got in that night, life seemed too wonderful to be true. Surely I couldn’t be as lucky as this! Though there had been nothing spoken between us, it was as if we both knew how we felt, and didn’t need to talk about it.

  I got to my room and found Mary sitting on my bed waiting for me. She glanced up quickly.

  ‘Hullo, Starry Eyes!’

  ‘Oh, Mary,’ I sighed, ‘he’s wonderful.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ she grinned. ‘When’s the happy day?’

  ‘Oh golly!’ I laughed. ‘He hasn’t even asked me yet!’

  ‘Yet?’ she queried.

  ‘Well, you know how it is.’ I felt myself blushing.

  ‘But could you return to more mundane matters, like your livelihood, for a moment?’

  I looked at her blankly. ‘My what?’

  ‘Blimey, you did have a good evening out!’ said Mary in a resigned voice. ‘Where on earth did you go? A wood near Athens?’

  ‘No, just some dive in Soho,’ I said happily. ‘We ate and talked and ate a bit more. Didn’t do anything really. Then went for a drive and talked. Nothing particular. You know.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mary grinning. ‘I know. It’s smashing, isn’t it?’

  We smiled in sympathy with each other, and then Mary settled herself down on the bed more comfortably, and said in a different, more business-like tone: ‘Well, I’ve got good news for you, honey. It appears that Layman was in the scrub-up when Harris cornered you. Mike saw him in the Mess, and he told Mike he had been trying to get out of the room for ages, but first you were having a heart-to-hearter with Carlisle and he didn’t want to interrupt – you didn’t tell me that bit,’ she added severely – ‘and he was just about to make a dash for liberty when Harris came in and mopped the floor up with you.’

  ‘So he heard all that? What happened?’

  ‘Well, apparently he went straight up to Blythe and told her the lot.’

  ‘Crumbs,’ I said in an awed voice. ‘What for?’

  ‘Well, according to Mike, everyone was a bit fed up with Harris, and Layman just thought it would be as good a time as any to tell Blythe what she was like.’

  ‘Poor old Harris.’

  ‘But now you’re in the clear.’

  ‘Well, that’s a relief. I suppose I can stay on now.’

  ‘And that’s not all,’ went on Mary impatiently. ‘Apparently Mike saw Charles – by the way, can I mention his name?’ she asked innocently.

  I wrinkled my nose, and she continued: ‘So Charles told Mike that Venus was asking for a transfer because she couldn’t stand Harris another two seconds. What d’you think of that?’

  ‘I heard that from Charles.’

  ‘Oh, did you?’ said Mary disappointed. ‘But what d’you think of all the other information I gleaned?’

  ‘They must have spent the whole meal discussing it,’ I said ungratefully. ‘And they say women gossip!’

  ‘Also,’ went on Mary undismayed, ‘I whipped up to see Jackie, and she said she’d heard from the day girls that Harris had been in the Sweat Room an hour and came out white as a sheet!’

  ‘Poor girl,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t have been in her shoes for anything. An hour with Blythe! It makes me come out in a cold sweat just to think about it.’

  ‘I’d as soon be grilled by the Gestapo,’ admitted Mary.

  ‘Well, what else did you dig up?’ I asked.

  Mary smiled. ‘I’ve kept the best titbit of gossip to the last,’ she said. ‘Now are you sitting firm, for this will rock you?’

  ‘O-oh,’ I said, rubbing my hands. ‘Is it true or grapevine?’

  ‘Oh, grapevine,’ said Mary scornfully. ‘What do you expect? The clergyman to write and tell us?’

  ‘Ah-ha – a wedding!’ I exclaimed. ‘Now let me guess. Matron and the Superintendent?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Um. Miss Marsh and one of the Governors!’

  ‘Come on, let’s get back to reality,’ said Mary firmly.

  ‘Oh, I can’t think,’ I said excitedly. ‘Do tell.’

  ‘Well, it concerns two people you know well.’

  ‘I’ve worked with them?’

  ‘Yes, and you’re their blue eyes.’

  ‘Sister Blythe,’ I said, grimacing.

  ‘Now, I shouldn’
t overplay your hand there,’ said Mary warningly. ‘No, you’re miles off.’

  ‘Well, tell me the woman.’

  Mary paused dramatically. ‘Sourpuss!’ she exclaimed, flinging her arms out and nearly knocking me over in the process.

  ‘Give me a chance to get myself up off the floor before you tell me the man,’ I said hastily, but Mary could obviously contain her news no longer.

  ‘Dr Ferguson!’ she announced grandly.

  ‘Dr Ferg –’ I started and looked incredulous. ‘Fergie? Oh, don’t be crackers.’

  ‘It’s true, honestly,’ said Mary, indignant at being doubted. ‘He’s been a widower for years and they’ve known each other for epochs.’

  ‘Jiminy Crickets!’ was all I could think of to say.

  When Mary finally left, I lay in bed for ages wide awake. To think six hours ago I was the unhappiest creature in this world! Now surely I was the happiest. There couldn’t he anyone happier than me. I had never felt before the way I felt about Donald.

  Wonder if he feels the same way, I thought humbly. Surely not.

  Then in a moment, instead of facing discredit and ruin, I now seemed to have a long line of pats on the back waiting for me.

  Dear Fergie! Would he and Sister Wright be happy? I did so hope they would. And Donald and I would be – my mind boggled at such an alluring prospect. It was a long time before I fell asleep.

  I went on duty the next day tired but happy. The little theatre seemed quiet and rather forlorn. I walked into the Nurses’ Changing Room. It was empty; looking at my watch I thought cynically that in two minutes exactly the doors would open and disgorge the nurses, who would all pile in and try to get their shoes and caps changed in one minute, so they could be in the theatre on the dot of eight. It seemed to be a point of honour with all nurses never to come on duty a second sooner than necessary in the morning.

  I thought of the past days of nursing that some of the older sisters had told me about. A day off a month, and one half day a fortnight, and if you were down late to breakfast more than three times in a month, one of the half days was automatically cancelled. One night off a fortnight, and one late night on, with a concession of three hours off duty. I shuddered and wondered if I would have been able to stand the pace.