The First Year

by Lucilla Andrews

  I said, ‘I never thought of it like that.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you did,’ he said kindly. ‘It’s not normally something one discusses. It’s just something one takes for granted. Now, you had better get along to the canteen.’

  ‘Yes, I must.’ But I hesitated. ‘Thank you for explaining this to me.’

  He inclined his head in a small movement that was more than a nod and less than a bow. ‘Perhaps I should just explain something else while I’m about it. You mentioned just now something about the physicians not knowing if there was any hope in what they are doing?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ I had not dared press that question. I could not now face the thought of that child dying. Death I had never seen; but death surely must be old and weary, and not young and small and limp as a doll thrown down by a bored child.

  He said gently, ‘You know, hope doesn’t come into it. We’ve just got a job to do and we do it, and often go on doing it long after there is any conceivable ground for hope. That’s where routine comes in. You don’t stop to ask yourself questions; you just do all you can while you can, until you are forced to accept that it’s too late for anyone to do anything. And what do you do then?’ He gave a slight shrug. ‘You drink a cup of cold tea, smoke a cigarette ‒ and start all over again. And again. And again. That’s all there is to it. No time for drama ‒ or tears. Just time for tea and a smoke, and then the bell or the phone or the walkie-talkie calls you up to the next on the list. And if you care to look in the fire-buckets outside Casualty or the wards you’ll see how seldom it is that anyone ever gets the time to finish their cigarettes.’ And, with that, he walked out of the room and across the Hall towards Room 12.

  Chapter Eight

  WORKING WITH JAKE

  I was late for lunch that day, and Home Sister was annoyed.

  ‘Nurse Standing, will you please come to meals on time? And what are you doing in that ill-fitting apron? Go and change it directly you finish your meal. You cannot return to duty so incorrectly dressed.’

  I met Bill Martin as I hurried across the park, having changed into one of my own aprons. ‘Hello, Rose. Where’s the fire?’

  ‘I’ll be late back on duty if I don’t rush. Sorry, Bill. Can’t stop now.’

  He fell into step beside me. ‘What have you been doing to yourself? Casualty wearing you down? You look very white.’

  ‘Must be Cas.,’ I said, and left it at that. I could not tell him of the picture that was sitting in my mind and refusing to fade. Even if I had not been on duty I think I should have gone back to Cas. with some excuse. I had to find out what had happened to that small girl whose name I did not know.

  I did not find out what had happened until half-way through the afternoon. As soon as I reported for duty Nurse Blake, who was still in charge in the Hall, sent me to chaperon Dr Linton, the junior medical registrar. ‘He’s in Thirty-two seeing the medical women. The room is still full, as he’s the only physician free to take it. It’s going to run late to-day.’

  The patients who should have been seen in the morning were still there in the early afternoon. When Dr Ross came into 32 at half-past two, three women remained to be seen. One of them, an elderly lady with tight lips, had been complaining of the delay for the past hour. She pounced on Dr Ross. ‘So there you are, Dr Ross! At last! I have been waiting to see you since half-past twelve! It’s too bad of you to keep me hanging about in this manner! That nurse there’ ‒ she gave me an old-fashioned look ‒ ‘said you were busy. Too busy to see your patients! Is that it?’

  Dr Ross said he was very sorry about the delay, but it had been unavoidable. ‘And, as Dr Linton has been seeing my patients as well as his own, I am afraid it’s taken him double time to get done.’

  The lady said it was all very disgraceful. ‘I’ve my shopping to do, my son’s tea to cook when I get back; and I’m sure I don’t know how I’m going to manage! I went down to the canteen for a snack, like the nurse outside said; but it was only a snack, I can tell you, doctor.’ She added peevishly, ‘I’m getting quite peckish.’

  Dr Ross and Dr Linton exchanged glances. Dr Linton had not attempted to go to lunch; a cup of cold tea standing on his desk was scarcely touched. That tea reminded me of what Jake had said this morning. I thought, I’ll never see another cup of tea on a desk without remembering this morning ‒ and I never have.

  Dr Ross was a calm young man. He soothed his irate patient by sympathizing with her peckishness and saying he would see her right away.

  She was only partially soothed. She picked up her shopping-bag with a belligerent expression and stalked into one of the examination rooms. ‘You’d think,’ she remarked, as I helped her off with her coat, ‘that there’d be some proper organization in a hospital of this size. First you get one doctor, then you get another’ ‒ she glared at us ‒ ‘and you really don’t know where you are! And what I’d like to know is, where do you all get to while we’re kept waiting about? But then, we are only patients! We can wait! We don’t count! Anyone can see that!’

  Dr Ross caught my eye. All he said was, ‘Very trying for you, Mrs Evans.’ And he managed to produce a professional smile. ‘Now, how have you been getting on? Those powders suiting you?’

  When the last patient had gone Dr Linton came into that examination room. ‘How did you get on with that child, Joe?’

  Dr Ross was sitting at the small table by the couch. He sat back in his chair, and his professional manner fell from his shoulders like an old discarded coat.

  ‘We didn’t,’ he said flatly, avoiding our eyes. ‘We’ve had to admit the mother. Shock.’

  I said, ‘Oh, no.’

  They looked at me. Dr Ross said, ‘Oh, yes, Nurse. I’m afraid so.’

  ‘But ‒ why, doctor? Did she suddenly collapse?’

  He hung his arms over the back of his chair. ‘Why? Because she didn’t get to us in time; because she didn’t get out of the water in time; because they didn’t discover she was missing in time. Certainly she collapsed. But that was before the cops or the ambulance chaps got working on her. Those chaps are hot stuff at this sort of thing; they did what they could and brought her in, but they knew the score when they arrived. We all did; but we went on in case we were wrong. We weren’t.’ He looked down at the table. ‘Wish to God we had been. She was a pretty little kid. Just like Spence’s youngest.’

  Dr Linton asked, ‘Spence very cut up?’

  Dr Ross looked up at him. ‘Yep.’ He gave a small grimace. ‘It wouldn’t have been so bad if the poor kid had been ill, but she was a fine little thing ‒ just playing a game.’ He stood up stiffly. ‘I must be getting old, Tom. God knows I’m used to seeing stiffs ‒ but not a kid like that.’

  The telephone jangled in the room beyond. I answered it. ‘Casualty, Room Thirty-two.’

  ‘This is Sister Out-Patients, Nurse!’ snapped a voice. ‘Have you Doctors Ross and Linton with you?’

  ‘Yes, Sister. They’ve just finished in here.’

  ‘At this hour? It’s three, Nurse!’

  Automatically I replied, ‘Yes, Sister. I’m sorry, Sister.’

  ‘Would you please,’ she continued impatiently, ‘remind Dr Ross that he is supposed to be taking Dr Archibald’s rheumatic clinic in my department at this hour? And would you also remind Dr Linton that the skin-clinic is scheduled to start at two-thirty, and Dr Mackenzie-Brown would be glad of his assistance ‒ at once!’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’

  I heard her say to someone, ‘I cannot imagine what those physicians think they are doing in Casualty at this hour of the afternoon.’ Then she replaced her receiver.

  I went back to the men. ‘What now, Nurse?’ asked Dr Ross wearily.

  I gave my message, softening it slightly.

  Dr Linton said, ‘I’ll bet that wasn’t what Sister O.P.s said. Thanks for muffling the blow, Nurse.’

  Dr Ross said, ‘And thanks for seeing my women, Tom. Sorry to pile them on you.’

  Dr Linton looked at
his colleague; his expression showed they were old friends. He did not answer directly. Instead he picked up Dr Ross’s stethoscope off the desk and held it out. ‘Come on, Joe. Let’s get moving before Sister O.P.s blasts Nurse Standing again.’

  Dr Ross fixed his stethoscope round his neck. ‘May as well.’ As they went out he said to me, ‘I’m sorry, Nurse.’ And we all knew that he was not apologizing for Sister O.P.’s telephone call.

  A few minutes later Nurse Blake bustled into the room and found me tidying the chairs. ‘Finished at last? Good. Will you go to the orthopaedic room and clear in there? I’m afraid it’s in a shocking mess, as they’ve been taking off and putting on plasters all morning; but no one has had a chance to get to it yet. Then, when that’s done, will you go to Seventeen and help Nurse Astor with her dressings?’

  ‘Yes, Nurse. Thank you.’

  I was glad to be so busy. I wanted no time on my hands that afternoon. I did not get any time on my hands. Casualty was packed for most of the afternoon, and when I went off duty at six it was only half empty.

  It was very dark outside in the park, very dark and very cold. I walked slowly because my feet hurt; I shivered and drew my cape more tightly round my shoulders. Now I was alone and free I could no longer postpone the thoughts that were so much blacker than the low London sky. Why had it to happen? Why had it to be too late? Why, why, why? Here we had everything that modern medicine could provide; we had the equipment, skilled staff ‒ and none of it had been of any use. I thought about that policeman, the two ambulance men, and the three physicians in Room 12. I remembered their expressions. I thought, that’s how men must look when they are facing defeat and refuse to admit it.

  Angela had an extra free evening that week. She was waiting for me when I reached my room. ‘Rose, you are late. And you look whacked. Take off your shoes, dearie, and change quickly. I’ve got tickets for a concert, and we’re going out.’

  I sat down on my bed. ‘Angie, I can’t. Not to-night.’

  ‘Why not to-night?’

  I explained.

  She sat down on the bed beside me. ‘I know how you feel,’ she said quietly; ‘we lost a child with a rheumatic heart when I was in Martha. I know exactly.’ She was silent for a little while. Then, ‘But it’s no good, Rose. You can’t just sit here all evening and think about her. You’ve got to take a grip. I’m not suggesting you go out on the town and go gay, but a concert’ll do you a power of good. So get your uniform off, and tell me what you want to wear, and I’ll get it out for you.’

  I pulled off my shoes and rubbed my sore ankles. ‘You never mentioned anything about that when you were in Martha, Angie.’ I glanced at her cheerful, ordinary face. ‘I didn’t know you had been upset.’

  ‘Does one ever talk about the things that really shake one? I don’t think so. I think one waffles on and on about unimportant little details like what Bennings said and whether Gus is going to ring Josephine. But the big things you keep to yourself. You must know that, Rose. Or haven’t you got around to knowing it yet?’

  I took off my cap. ‘Yes, I have. So ‒ right. Let’s go and listen to some music.’

  On the return from the concert she asked if I had heard how the dance had gone. ‘No one in Francis went. Any Cas. girls besides Sister go?’

  ‘I don’t know. Hasn’t been time to ask.’

  ‘That reminds me ‒ what’s she like? I remember seeing her occasionally when I was part-timing. She looked quite nice. Does she still do her hair in that Jane Eyre-ish fashion?’

  ‘Yes. It suits her. But ‒ oh, Angie ‒’ I suddenly remembered those bottles. Was that really only this morning? ‘I made a ghastly mistake!’ And I told her what I had done.

  She did not laugh as I expected. ‘Rose, you must take a grip. You can’t go on putting up blacks like that ‒ and, above all, not in Cas. Cas. is the nerve-centre of Martin’s. You mustn’t play the fool there. Do try and keep your mind on your job from now on.’

  ‘I’ll try; I really will. And I have tried, honestly, Angie. Then I get in a state because I’m late, and forget.’

  She said the only thing to do was not to get in a state. ‘They won’t stand for it in Cas., Rose. And if you carry on like this I’ll end up the first year on my own. And, fond as I am of Martin’s, that would make life too grim and earnest.’

  ‘You’ll have Josephine.’

  ‘Think so?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t. In fact, I’ll be very surprised if she reaches the nine-month mark. I think she’s due to quit any moment now.’

  ‘Gus? Have they made up their last row?’

  She said she had not had a verdict for twenty-four hours, so she could not say about Gus. ‘That engagement reaches the all-time high in instability. I can’t keep up with it. One minute life is a song tra-la, and the next it’s over for good and no one is allowed to mention his name to Josephine. Goodness alone knows what’ll happen if those two marry, but that’s their affair. They must enjoy fighting or they wouldn’t do it.’

  ‘Then why do you think she’ll quit?’

  ‘Because she can’t take the work.’

  ‘Rubbish, Angie! Sheer rubbish! I’ve worked with her. I know. She’s good ‒ calm, quiet, all the things I’m not. Of course her work’s all right!’

  ‘I didn’t say her work wasn’t all right,’ she replied mildly. ‘I only said she couldn’t take it ‒ and she can’t. It’s not her fault; she’s just not made to take it. And don’t beat me down again, saying you’ve worked with her and I haven’t ‒ I know that. But I’ve talked to her a lot and she’s talked to me. You knew Francis and Bennings got her down; you know she had to say she could not take the theatre; and now you’ve heard her about Martha. Martha’s a heavenly ward. I’d say Matron sent her there on purpose. Authority is pretty good at spotting what’s going on and whose morale is flagging; Matron probably sent her to Martha to let her see what a good, peaceful medical ward under a genuinely reasonable sister and S.N. is like. Well, you know what Josephine says. She’s miserable in Martha. Personally, I think that at the next change-over Josephine will pack it in.’

  I said slowly, ‘I never guessed any of this. I know she grumbles, but we all grumble. It’s just something to do. Angie, are you sure you’re right? Remember how keen to nurse Josephine was in the P.T.S. She really came to Martin’s with her lamp alight.’

  Angela’s tone was dry. ‘You mean she was keen to do what she thought nursing entailed? To drift around with a gentle smile and lay a cool hand on a fevered brow? About which ‒ who blames her? Didn’t we all have some sort of vague idea that we’d be doing that kind of thing until we got into the wards and down to earth?’

  I had to smile. ‘You mean, down to cleaning at the double, to bustling to, looking sharp ‒ and avoiding S.N.s. But it wasn’t really so bad, Angie! Even at the worst moments it was exciting; and, honestly, mostly Bennings’s narking made me laugh! Although there were odd times when, if I’m being honest, I have to say I could have cried as easily.’

  She said, ‘But you laughed. And so do I ‒ and all the other girls, bar Josephine. We don’t love being pushed around in our first year, but we don’t mind it; we realize there’s nothing personal in the pushing around, that it’s just all part of the job. Who knows? Three years from now you and I may be the toughest of fourth-years and the poor juniors will quake at the grim prospect of working with Nurse Standing or Nurse Black.’

  I laughed. ‘Can’t you just see us!’

  She said thoughtfully, ‘Oddly enough, I can’t, Rose. Not you. That’s what worries me. I can ‒ vaguely ‒ see myself and the others all dressed up as fourth-years, but I can’t see either Josephine or you. That worries me a lot,’ she repeated. ‘Not for Josephine; I do think she made a mistake in trying to nurse and would be much happier in another job; but I don’t think you’d be. I know you like the work and I’m sure you could make the grade easily if you kept your mind on it. Look how well you did in the P.T.S. exam. You’ve got brains, Rose’ �
�� and she sighed as if my brains saddened her ‒ ‘so why not try using them? If you don’t you’ll find yourself being thrown out. Remember that clause in our contracts that says if we fail to maintain the necessary standards ‒ and so on?’

  I remembered very well. Her advice made a great impression on me. I had never admired Angela as I admired Josephine, but I liked her very much. I liked her kindness and the common sense she pumped into all of us and the way she was as happy to laugh at herself as at life in general. The more I watched Josephine in our off-duty during the next few weeks the more I now admired Angela’s insight. I should have guessed how nursing was affecting Josephine, but until Angela pointed it out to me I had not guessed, just as I had been unaware of Gus’s existence. And, as Angela was right about Josephine, I felt she could be right about myself. I knew that my position in Casualty had been precarious since Sister Cas. returned from holiday; I was not at all sanguine about the report Sister Francis had made on me to Matron, as Bennings must have had some say in that report; and I knew very well that the only time I had pleased Sister P.T.S. had been during the final examinations. If I got three bad reports in a row Matron might well suggest I resign. The standard required of Martin’s nurses was known to be the highest in the nursing profession; nurses were not infrequently advised to resign during their training. That was not an unused threat, but something that happened four or five times every year. I could not contemplate that happening to me, not only because it would mean my not seeing Jake Waring again, but because I genuinely wanted to stay and finish my four years and then face the world with a Martin’s certificate. I decided I really must do something about all this. I stopped trying to be careful and instead was careful. This effort and the continual pressure of work in Cas. so engrossed me that I was taken quite by surprise when, one morning a few weeks later, Sister Casualty called me into her office and asked me whether I wanted my extra half-day during Christmas week or the week after.