by Anne Bennett
‘Your bed is either of those two by the door,’ Jane said. ‘Sylvia and I have nabbed the two by the window.’
‘Just at this moment I wouldn’t care if my bed was out on the street,’ Carmel said. ‘It looks terribly inviting.’
Sylvia laughed. ‘You will have to wait a bit,’ she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. ‘The bell for dinner will go any second.’
The words had barely left her mouth when the strains of it could be heard echoing through the home. Carmel quickly removed her coat, hung it in the wardrobe, pushed her case under the bed and followed the others streaming, with hurrying feet and excited chatter, down the stairs towards the dining room.
The good wholesome food revived Carmel a little, although she was still extremely tired. She was quiet at the table, glad that Sylvia and Jane were there to keep up the conversation because she didn’t feel up to talking, laughing and being polite to those she hadn’t got to know yet.
Later, up in the room, she confessed to the other two what a relief it was to be there.
‘You don’t worry that you might be homesick?’ Jane said.
‘There is not a doubt in my mind that I will never miss my home,’ Carmel said. ‘As for wishing I was back there, no thank you.’ She gave a shiver of distaste.
‘Ooh, I might wish that sometimes and quite easily,’ Jane said, ‘especially when Matron’s on the warpath. Our next-door neighbour was here five years ago and said she was a targer.’
‘Our matron could be strict,’ Carmel conceded. ‘She was fair, though.’
‘Did you work in a hospital then?’
‘Aye. I was a ward orderly in Letterkenny Hospital, which was near where I lived,’ Carmel said. ‘Our matron had a thing about hospital corners on the beds and she was a stickler for having a tidy and uncluttered ward. But I was good at the bed-making and I like order myself, so we got on all right.’
‘Did she suggest you going in for nursing?’
‘No, that was Sister Frances, the nun I worked with mostly,’ Carmel said. ‘Matron did support me, though, when she knew about it.’
‘You didn’t lose your heart to any dishy doctors then?’ Jane asked.
Carmel laughed. ‘There weren’t any. I think ugliness or at least general unattractiveness with a brusque bedside manner were the requisites for any job there.’
‘Well, I hope it’s not the case here,’ Jane said with a slight pout of discontent.
‘I thought you came to learn nursing, not hook yourself a husband?’ Sylvia said scornfully.
‘No harm in combining the two ambitions and seeing what comes first,’ Jane said with a simper.
Carmel laughed. ‘You can do all the hooking you wish,’ she said. ‘I won’t be any sort of threat to you, because I won’t be in the race.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t want a husband—not now, not ever.’
The other two looked at her open-mouthed. ‘Not ever?’ Sylvia breathed.
‘You can’t honestly say you want to be an old maid all your life?’ Jane cried incredulously.
‘Oh, yes I can, because that’s exactly what I want.’
‘But why?’
Carmel shrugged. ‘Let’s just say that what I have seen of marriage, children and all so far has not impressed me one jot.’
‘Your mom and dad, I suppose?’ Sylvia asked.
‘Aye,’ Carmel said, ‘in the main, but there were others I knew who were downright unhappy. I want to be my own person without relying or depending on someone else, and to have no one leaning on me.’
‘You can’t go through life like that,’ Jane said. ‘It’s so sad and lonely-sounding.’
‘Yeah,’ Sylvia agreed. ‘And just ’cos your parents didn’t hit it off, what’s that got to do with you and your life? I mean, Carmel, if you could see mine…Fight like cat and dog, they do, and always have done, but I will be ready to take the plunge when I’m swept off my feet.’
‘And me.’
‘Well, I wish you the well of it,’ Carmel said.
‘But, Carmel—’
‘The thing is,’ Carmel said, ‘you don’t really know anything about a man until you marry him. That has been said to me countless times.’
A yawn suddenly overtook her and she gave a rueful smile. ‘Sorry, girls, I am too tired to be fit company for anyone tonight. I will have to leave my unpacking till the morning. Thank God I had the foresight to put all I would need for tonight in the bag.’
As Carmel padded down the corridor to the bathroom in her bare feet, Jane whispered to Sylvia, ‘D’you think she really means it about men and that?’
Sylvia shrugged. ‘Sounds like it, but she is only eighteen.’
‘Yeah. Likely change her mind half a dozen times yet.’
Carmel was woken the next morning by the ringing of a bell and for a moment or two was disorientated. Then the previous day and all that had happened came back to her. She felt her whole body fill with delicious anticipation and she could barely wait for the day to start.
The system of the bells had been explained to her and other new arrivals after dinner the previous evening. She knew she had twenty minutes between the first bell and the second, when she was supposed to be in the dining hall. The clock on the wall told her it was twenty to seven and she knew it would take her all her time to wash, haul something suitable and as uncreased as possible out of the suitcase, make her bed and arrive in the dining hall on time and so she slipped out of bed quickly.
The other two had barely stirred and she made straight for the bathroom, delighting in hot water straight from the tap and plenty of soap and soft towels. She was invigorated by her wash and returned to the room in a buoyant mood to see Sylvia up, while Jane still lay curled in her bed with her eyes closed.
In fact, Jane was so hard to rouse, Carmel feared they would all be late. To try to prevent this, she ended up making up Jane’s bed, to enable Jane to have time to dress herself.
‘It is good of you,’ Jane told her. ‘I’ve never been my best in the morning.’
‘You’d better work on it,’ Sylvia told her grimly. ‘Neither Carmel nor I is here to wait on you.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
‘Come on,’ Carmel urged. ‘Look at the time. The next bell will go any second.’
The girls scurried from the room, arriving in the dining hall just as the strains of the piercing alarm were dying away. Carmel’s stomach growled and she knew she would be glad of the breakfast, which she soon found out was thick creamy porridge with extra hot milk, and sugar to sprinkle over, followed by rounds of buttered toast and cups of strong tea.
She had never had such a breakfast, and remarked to a girl beside her that she would be the size of a house if she ate like that every day. The girl looked at Carmel’s slender figure and smiled.
‘I doubt that,’ she said. ‘I think it is more the case of keeping your strength up. From what I was told, they run every morsel of food off you. I mean, have you seen any fat nurses?’
‘No,’ Carmel had to admit, ‘And I’m too hungry anyway not to eat.’
The last of the probationary nurses were arriving that day, and for this reason the others were free until one o’clock, when they had to report to the lecture hall. Some of the girls, including Jane and Sylvia, went to the common room, but Carmel, mindful of her case not yet unpacked, was going to attend to it when the home sister hailed her.
‘Are you Carmel Duffy?’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘The matron would like a word.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
The matron wore a dark blue dress, covered with a pure white apron. The ruff at her neck seemed as stiff as the woman itself. Her grey hair was scraped back from her head so effectively that her eyebrows rose as if she were constantly surprised. On her head was perched a starched white matron’s cap. Her eyes were piercing blue and they fastened fixedly on Carmel as she bade her sit at the other side of the desk.
What could Carmel say to that? ‘Yes, Matron,’ sounded the safest option.
‘And I have further endorsements from the matron at Letterkenny Hospital, detailing your suitability to be taken on this course, and a character reference from your parish priest.’
‘Yes, Matron.’
‘What I want to make clear to you, Miss Duffy, is that I broke the rule of interviewing you before accepting you, even so far, because of the friendship of someone in the same field as myself whose judgement I trust. You are not and will not be treated as a special case.’
‘No, Matron,’ Carmel said. ‘I truly hadn’t expected to be.’
‘As long as that is firmly understood.’
‘Oh, yes, Matron.’
‘You may go, Miss Duffy. And I am glad to see,’ she added, ‘that you have the regulation stockings and shoes.’
As Carmel scurried from the room, Catherine smiled. She knew more about Carmel Duffy than the young woman realised, because Sister Frances had told her all about her background and the type of home she came from. She had gone on to say that the child and young woman that she had known for four years had remained untainted by this and had the ability and will to make something of herself. Catherine liked the sound of Carmel Duffy and had been impressed with what she saw, but because Frances had also said she hated talking of her family and in particular her father, she had asked no questions. Anyway, she had the girl’s testimonials, and all Matron really was interested in was whether Carmel would make a good nurse.
Unaware of the matron’s thoughts, Carmel, glad that quite painless interview was over, returned to her room to find a girl, still in her outdoor clothes, looking a little lost.
‘Hello,’ Carmel said. ‘You must be Lois.’
The girl’s sigh of relief was audible. ‘Yes,’ she said, extending her hand. ‘Lois Baker.’
‘And I’m Carmel Duffy.’
‘No secrets about where you come from,’ Lois said. ‘Your accent is lovely, and what gorgeous hair.’
‘Thanks,’ Carmel said, liking the look of Lois too, with her dark brown curls and merry brown eyes.
‘Where is everyone?’
‘Well, we’ve not long had breakfast,’ Carmel explained, hauling her case from beneath the bed as she spoke. ‘We haven’t got to report for duty until one o’clock in the lecture theatre, and most of the girls have gone into the common room. I only arrived last night myself, though, and was too tired after the meal to unpack so I’m doing it now. I’m not sure when I’ll have a spare minute again.’
‘Good idea,’ Lois said. ‘I’ll do the same.’
As Lois hauled her case up onto the bed as Carmel directed her to, she said with a wry smile, ‘I find it hard to believe I am here at last. There were times I didn’t think I would make it.’
‘Nor me,’ Carmel said. ‘Did your father object too?’
‘No, it was my mother,’ Lois said. ‘She kicked up a right shindig about it. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Daddy and his support, I wouldn’t have made it.’
‘Why did she object?’
‘Well, she’s an invalid, you see,’ Lois said. ‘At least…’ she wrinkled her nose, ‘she’s supposed to be an invalid. I have my doubts. Well, more than doubts because I have caught her out a time or two. She’s not half as helpless as she makes out.’
Carmel couldn’t quite believe that anyone could act that way. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Oh, I’m sure, all right, but…well, what can I do? All the years I was growing up, it was impressed upon me—on all of us—that Mummy wasn’t very strong. You get sort of conditioned. I have a brother and a sister both older than me and they got away in time so there was just me left.’
‘What about your father?’
‘Daddy is marvellous and he said I should run while I had the chance. Now he pays a woman, an ex-nurse, to come in and see to Mummy.’
‘Is your father rich to be able to just employ someone like that?’
‘I don’t know,’ Lois said. ‘I’ve never thought about it.’
‘What does he do?’
‘He’s a department manager in Lewis’s.’ Then, at the perplexed look on Carmel’s face, Lois went on, ‘It’s a big store in the city centre, bigger even than Marshall & Snelgrove. D’you know how Daddy got around my mother in the end?’ Carmel shook her head and Lois continued. ‘Told her that I was training as a nurse so that I could look after her more effectively.’
‘And will you?’
‘Not likely,’ Lois said determinedly. ‘She is a slave-driver and not averse either to giving me the odd hard slap or pinch for little or nothing at all. She behaves better with other people. Daddy has the patience of Job with her—with everyone, really. He is a wonderful person. What about you?’
Carmel was laying the pin cushion and pin tray on the dressing table as the letter had directed her to but her hands became still at Lois’s question. She didn’t want to bring the details of her former dirty, gruesome existence and the deprived brothers and sisters she’d left behind into this new and clean life.
She gave a shrug. ‘I may tell you about myself some other time,’ she said. ‘But if you have finished your packing, we’d best go down and meet the others.’
‘I’m all done,’ Lois said, snapping the case shut. ‘What do we do with the cases?’
‘Leave them on the bed,’ Carmel said. ‘That’s what I was told. The porter or caretaker or whoever he is comes and takes them away later.’
‘Right oh, then,’ Lois said. ‘Lead the way.’
The lecture theatre was in the main body of the hospital, which was connected to the nurses’ home via a conservatory. Outside the room it was fair bustling with noise as Carmel, Jane, Sylvia and Lois congregated there with everyone else.
‘Out of the way!’ said a grumbling voice suddenly. ‘Bunching together like that before the door. Ridiculous! Get inside. Inside quickly.’
Carmel had never heard the words ‘lecture theatre’ before, never mind seen inside one and she surged inside with the others and looked around in amazement at the tiered benches of shiny golden wood that stretched up and up before the small dais at the front.
The woman’s entrance into the room had caused a silence to descend on the apprehensive girls. The woman spoke again. ‘I am Matron Turner and when you refer to me, you just call me Matron. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Matron.’
‘Remember that in future and now I want you all against the wall,’ Matron said.
Carmel found herself next to Jane. ‘Now prepare to face the firing squad,’ Jane whispered, and Carmel had to stifle her giggles with a cough, bringing Matron’s shrewd eyes to rest upon her.
She found fault with many of them and when she got to Carmel, the girl wasn’t surprised to be told her hair was too wild and frizzy. ‘You will have to do something with it,’ she said. ‘You’ll never get your cap to stay on that bush. Our standards are high,’ Matron’s voice rapped out, ‘and hygiene is of paramount importance. Hold out your hands.’
Wondering why in the world they had to do that, Carmel nervously extended her hands and tried to still their trembling as the woman walked up and down inspecting them.
‘Before going on to the ward, your hands must be scrubbed, and before you attend a patient, and between patients,’ the matron said. ‘Nails must be kept short at all times and dirty nails will not be tolerated. And,’ she went on, fixing the students with a glare. ‘if you have been prone to bite your nails in the past—a disgusting habit, I might add—then you must stop. A nurse cannot run the risk of passing on the bacteria in her mouth to a sick and vulnerable patient. I hope that I have made myself clear.’
Again came the chorus, ‘Yes, Matron.’
‘We expect high standards. If you have come here as some sort of rest cure, then you are in the wrong job. The hours are long and some of the work arduous. You must understand that from
the outset.
‘Before you even start a shift, your bedroom must be left clean and tidy at all times,’ the matron continued, fixing them all with a gimlet eye. ‘This shows that you have refinement of mind, clean habits and tidy ways. If you are careless or slovenly, then these same attributes will be carried on to the ward, and let me tell you,’ she added, ‘I will not have any slatterns on my wards.’
‘No, Matron,’ chorused the girls in the pause that followed this declaration.
‘You are on the brink of entering a noble and respectable profession and this must be shown in your manner at all times. There is to be no frivolous behaviour in wards or corridors and, of course, no running at any time. No nurse is to eat on the wards, there is to be no jewellery worn, nor cosmetics of any sort, and the relationship between nurse and patients must be kept on a strictly professional level. There is to be no fraternising with the doctors either, and no nurse is to enter any other department without permission. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Matron.’
‘Now, you are each required to have a medical examination, as the list of rules explained, so if you make your way down to the medical room you will be dealt with alphabetically.’
‘Phew, she must have been practising that sort of attitude for years,’ Jane remarked when the matron had gone.
‘I know one thing,’ another girl put in, ‘the army’s loss is our gain. God, wouldn’t she make a first-class sergeant major?’
‘Oh, no,’ Lois said. ‘She wouldn’t be happy unless she was a general.’
‘You’re right there,’ the first girl conceded, and there were gales of laughter as the girls left the room.
That night, after being declared fit and healthy, Carmel examined her hair ruefully. The matron was right about one thing.
‘How the hell am I going to get any sort of cap to stay on my head under my mass of hair? After the initial six weeks I’ll have to wear one,’ Carmel lamented.
Jane gave a hoot of laughter. ‘It will be like getting a quart into a pint pot,’ she said.
‘Let’s not be so defeatist about this,’ Lois said. ‘Your hair will have to be put up, and surely that is just a matter of a thousand Kirbigrips or thereabouts?’
