Pack Up Your Troubles Page 9

  Connie knew that was just a ruse to make her feel that they couldn’t cope without her. Before long Ga would be dumping ‘would-you-just jobs’ into her lap. Oh, Connie while you’re doing that, would-you-just pick out a few of those seedlings, or before you catch the bus, would-you-just take that into the shop for me.

  ‘I have to be on the ward at seven and you know me first thing in the morning, Ga,’ she said brightly. ‘It’ll be better if I’m in the nurses’ home.’

  But Ga wasn’t about to give up that easily. ‘What about all the books you’re supposed to have? You needn’t expect …’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Connie, knowing perfectly well what was coming. ‘I’ve already saved enough to buy everything.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s just as well things didn’t work out for you and Emmett then,’ Ga remarked acidly. ‘You wouldn’t even be allowed to train if you were married.’

  The mention of Emmett made Connie’s heart lurch, but then Ga had meant to upset her, hadn’t she? Why did she keep saying stuff like that? For the sake of her mother, Connie bit her tongue.

  ‘Why can’t you just be happy for the girl?’ Clifford snapped, ‘and for once, say something encouraging.’

  ‘Well!’ Ga glared.

  ‘It’s all right, Clifford,’ Gwen soothed.

  Clifford helped himself to some more potatoes. ‘No, it’s not, Gwennie,’ he said.

  ‘I’m only trying to make her see that it won’t be easy,’ Ga protested.

  ‘I know it won’t be easy, Ga.’

  The atmosphere at the table soured. Her great aunt was probably right, or she would have been right if it was still 1939. The unwritten rule for nurses had always been that women who married would give up the profession but the war had left hospitals alongside many other institutions with severe shortages of manpower. Connie felt sure that by the time she’d gained her nursing badge, the ‘no married women’ edict would be a thing of the past anyway. Not only that, but the new government was pressing ahead with a country-wide health service which would be free to all, regardless of income or status, at the point of need. Things were changing. They were indeed entering a brave new world.

  Now that she was really going, Connie was thrown into a hive of activity. She’d found the list of things she was supposed to bring with her to the hospital and set off into town. Ga said nothing when Connie came back with her purchases but she shot her one of her dark looks. As a child, they had terrified her and even now they made Connie feel a little uncomfortable, but she was determined not to let the old lady spoil her excitement.

  ‘So you’re going to run out on your mother after all,’ said Ga when the two of them were alone in the kitchen. Connie was making a pot of tea and when Ga walked in she’d asked her if she wanted one.

  ‘I’m not running out on anyone,’ said Connie calmly. ‘Mum’s given me her blessing.’ Her great aunt tightened her mouth disapprovingly. ‘It’s time to think about me,’ Connie pre-empted. She hated herself for feeling the need to justify her own actions. She was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake, but she knew what Ga was like.

  ‘Me, me, me,’ Ga taunted. ‘Never mind about anyone else.’

  Her cheeks flaming with anger, Connie shoved the cup in front of her, slopping some of the tea into the saucer. As she poured her own cup she could hear Ga rubbing her knee and letting out little sighs of pain and discomfort. It took everything Connie had not to stalk out of the room or to round on Ga with some cutting comment but she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of a fight. She wasn’t going to allow Ga to spoil her last few days at home so there would be no more rows. Ga could harrumph and disapprove as much as she liked but Connie was going to be a nurse no matter what she damn well said.

  Sally Burndell blinked at the piece of paper in her hand. She turned over the envelope and looked at the postmark. Worthing 6.30 p.m. Posted last night and locally. She could feel the tears pricking her eyes as she read it again. There was no name at the bottom of course, but whoever sent them seemed to know an awful lot about her. It had been bad enough when she’d got that awful letter from the secretarial college but when she’d applied to the one in Brighton and been refused there as well, she’d been devastated. As the panic rose within her chest, her heartbeat quickened. She lowered herself into a chair. And read it again. ‘I do not wish to cast aspersions …’ What did aspersions mean? Sally wasn’t sure but it didn’t sound good. ‘Do you think it wise to flirt with other men while Terry is away? If I wrote and told him what you were up to, he’d realise you are a tart.’ They were all signed ‘a well-wisher’. How could someone be a well-wisher and yet write such nasty things? What if this person wrote to Terry? Going to the dances had only been a bit of fun. She never even let another boy kiss her and she always went straight home after they’d finished, either with Connie or Jane. If only she knew who had written such hateful things she would have it out with them. The letter trembled in her hand and as she gave way to her sobs, she was so glad her mother was out shopping. She couldn’t bear it. How could anyone be so cruel? It was all lies. Wicked, wicked lies!

  Connie missed Kez. Jane was a good friend but there was something about Kez … She walked up to the lane with Pip most days in the vain hope that they might be back, but she was always disappointed. And what about that pram? Then it crossed her mind that Simeon might have told the Frenchie about it so on her way back from the shops, she headed towards his workshop. She knocked on the door even though it was already open. ‘Hello …’

  ‘Nearly done,’ said a voice deep inside. He stood up from behind an upturned bicycle frame, and spun the wheel. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I thought you were the owner come back for the bike. Connie, isn’t it? What can I do for you?’

  Already her heartbeat was gathering speed. His sleeves were neatly rolled up to his biceps and his shirt was open to the waist. She could see at once that he had an athletic build. He was as attractive as ever, despite his dirty clothes and oil-smudged face. ‘I – I wondered if you knew when Kez and Simeon would be coming back?’ she flustered.

  He shook his head and taking a piece of rag from his pocket began to wipe his hands. ‘I don’t think they know themselves.’

  Connie nodded and turned to go. ‘It’s just that I’m moving away for a bit.’

  ‘If I see her, shall I tell her where you’ve gone?’

  Connie quickly explained about her nursing. The Frenchie seemed impressed. ‘Good for you. If I see them, I’ll tell them,’ he promised and their eyes locked.

  ‘There seems to be no end to your talent,’ she laughed nervously, waving her hand towards the mobile shop taking shape at last. ‘Now here you are mending bicycles.’

  ‘This is my proper job,’ he smiled. ‘I was only helping Simeon out. It was a good idea, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Your idea, so he said,’ Connie grinned.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘I’d forgotten. Brilliant, wasn’t it?’ and they both laughed.

  Connie was suddenly distracted by her old doll’s pram hanging on a hook by its handle on the wall behind him. It had been painted a lovely shade of maroon and the hood seemed new.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said the Frenchie following her eye. ‘Simeon said you wanted that for your little sister. Simeon painted it and put on a new hood. I’ve repaired the wonky wheel and he asked me to paint something nice on the sides. I’m afraid I haven’t got around to it yet. Sorry.’

  ‘No, no,’ she smiled. ‘That’s fine. I wanted it for Christmas, so there’s plenty of time. How much do I owe you?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet,’ he said. ‘I’ll send the bill around to the nurseries if that’s all right?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I suppose I’d better cover it up,’ he said. ‘In case your sister comes to the workshop.’

  ‘That might be an idea,’ she said. She was getting flustered again.

  ‘Will you call for it?’

  ‘I don’t want to put you to too much trouble,’ she said breathil
y. Their eyes met and the spell it cast was only broken when they both heard a footfall beside the door.

  ‘Ready yet?’ said a man’s voice.

  ‘Almost,’ said the Frenchie, returning to his bicycle repair. Connie turned to go and as she reached the door he called after her, ‘All the best, Connie.’

  The hospital had a very distinctive smell, a cross somewhere between strong disinfectant and boiled cabbage.

  Her first task when she’d arrived at the nurses’ home was to go to the central stores and be kitted out with her uniform. She was given three dresses, all pale blue, with detachable buttons which were fastened through a button hole with a split pin. She had two belts the same colour as the dresses; three white aprons, stiffly starched, two plain white caps and two pink laundry boxes each with a leather strap. The sister giving out the uniforms, a gaunt looking woman with thin grey hair, explained that laundry day was Tuesday.

  ‘The box has to be taken to the front hallway of the nurses’ home by 8.30 a.m. for collection,’ she said. ‘Inside your box is a pink book. In it you have to record what you put into the box and when your clean laundry is returned, make sure that you check that everything is correct. Any mistakes have to be reported at once.’

  Connie was given the keys to Room 13 on the first floor of the nurses’ home, a room she would share with another girl she had yet to meet. ‘After you have taken your uniform and your case up to your room, report to Room 6 in the main hospital.’

  The room was better than she expected. It had two beds, each with a bedside locker, a chest of drawers and a sink in the corner. The other girl wasn’t in the room but some of her things were. Some clothes were thrown untidily across the bed, a set of keys lay on the dressing table and a suitcase was standing on its heel beside one of the wardrobes. Connie put her single suitcase onto the bed and carefully laid the contents into the remaining empty drawers before putting the empty case on top of the other wardrobe. She stored the two laundry boxes under the bed, the same as the other girl had done. She had brought two photographs from home which she put on her bedside locker. One was of Mum and Clifford with Mandy when her sister was small. Pip sat on the ground between them. The other photograph was the one of Kenneth she’d taken from the album she’d found in the loft. Connie ran her finger across the glass. ‘Welcome to your new home, Kenneth,’ she smiled.

  Connie took her time changing into her uniform. This was something to be savoured. It wasn’t comfortable, everything was too heavily starched, but as she caught sight of herself in the mirror she felt a frisson of excitement. Her crisp white apron crackled as she walked along the corridor making her feel elated, as if she was walking on air. She now had a completely new identity. For the next four years, she would be student nurse Dixon. She liked the sound of that. It had a nice ring to it.

  When she finally opened the door of Room 6, Connie felt as if she had stepped back in time. It was just like school. Four rows of desks, each with its own inkwell, stretched for the length of the room. There was a blackboard and a teacher’s desk complete with a pile of books at one side and a register in the middle. The noise level in the room was extremely high and although a few people looked up as she came in, one or two sharing a shy smile, her entry made no difference at all. Hardly anyone was sitting down. The girls had draped themselves over the desks, or huddled together in groups, all talking nineteen to the dozen. Connie looked around. They appeared to be roughly the same age as her, although one or two looked younger.

  One girl, plump with short dark curly hair and a ready smile stepped forward with a friendly greeting. ‘Hello. You’re number twenty. We’re quite a big group, aren’t we? Have you got any spare hairgrips?’

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ said Connie. ‘My name is Connie, by the way.’

  ‘Betty Wellman,’ said the girl. ‘I’m supposed to wear this hat thing but I can’t put it on. I never use hairgrips.’

  She was interrupted when a woman in a plain dark blue uniform with long sleeves sailed into the room on a waft of lavender water.

  ‘Good afternoon, nurses,’ she said with an air of authority. She was followed by two others dressed the same. They each wore a frilly cap but no apron. Everyone responded raggedly and sat down. Three other students hurried into the room behind her and sat right at the back with Connie.

  ‘My name is Sister Abbott. Sister Brown and I are your home sisters,’ the first woman announced. She extended her hand towards the woman next to her and looked around. ‘In response to your puzzled expressions, let me explain that we supervise you throughout your training. If you have any questions, any queries about anything, Sister and I are your first port of call. Sister Hayes is your head tutor and will be in charge of your lectures.’

  The third woman gave everyone a curt nod of her head.

  Connie began to relax. Home Sister Abbott seemed strict but there was an air of fairness about her.

  ‘You have all been allocated rooms in the nurses’ home?’ she said and there was a murmur of agreement. ‘There is a cleaner on each floor, but I expect every nurse to keep her room clean and tidy. Laundry day is Tuesday. Strip your bed and put your dirty sheets in one of the pillowcases and leave it outside for collection.’

  Should be easy enough to remember, thought Connie. It was the same day as the uniforms had to go out.

  ‘You will find your clean sheets outside your door after 2 p.m.,’ Home Sister continued. ‘Failure to leave your dirty sheets outside means the cleaner will not leave any clean ones.’ She began to walk up and down the aisles looking at each girl. ‘The nurse’s uniform is something to wear with pride. No cardigans.’ She had drawn level with a girl wearing a pale blue knit. The girl blushed a deep red and took the cardigan off. ‘No jewellery,’ Sister continued and the girl beside her removed her engagement ring, ‘and wear your cap at all times.’

  ‘I haven’t got any hairgrips,’ Betty Wellman whimpered.

  ‘I haven’t got any hairgrips, Sister,’ Sister Abbott corrected. ‘Can anyone help this girl out?’

  ‘I can.’

  Connie’s head spun round at the sound of her voice. The girl rose to her feet and walked to Betty’s desk, handing her two Kirby grips. As she turned back to her seat, their eyes met and Connie’s face flamed as she registered the same shocked surprise on the other girl’s face.

  It was Eva.

  Eight

  ‘Has anyone seen Pip?’

  When Connie had walked to the bus stop that morning, they’d seen the dog following her but now he’d disappeared. Gwen picked up his dog bowl. The food was uneaten. Clifford shook his head and Ga looked blank. ‘Isn’t he down by the gate?’

  It was getting dark but there was still no sign of him. Clifford and Mandy walked right round the nursery calling and calling while Gwen stood by the back door and banged a spoon on his dog bowl. Ga didn’t join in but every time someone came back indoors she would look up from the letter she was writing at her desk and say, ‘Any sign?’

  The family ate their supper but there was little conversation at the table. Nobody wanted to voice their fears. When Gwen put Mandy to bed, Clifford went outside for one last time. The whole time she read her daughter’s bedtime story, they could hear Clifford calling the dog’s name.

  Back downstairs, when Clifford came in, Gwen didn’t need to ask. His face said it all. ‘I do hope he hasn’t run off altogether,’ she sighed.

  The new nurses had spent the rest of the afternoon putting together their timetables. Their day would begin at 8.30 a.m. and finish at 6 p.m. They would have an hour for lunch and two short tea breaks, one in the morning, the other in the afternoon. Most of their first six weeks would be spent in the classroom but after a month, they would be spending some time on the wards. ‘I’m sure that you all know you have to pay for your textbooks,’ Sister Tutor said. ‘If you haven’t already collected them, please go to the office by tomorrow morning. It’s twenty pounds. If anyone has a problem with that, we can make arrangements fo
r it to be deducted from your wages.’

  Connie had thought it was grossly unfair that she should have to pay for anything at all. There had been a vague possibility that she could have started her training straight after VE Day but by starting now it had given her enough time to save up. It had been a struggle because money was tight and Ga hadn’t given her much money for helping in the nursery. Never mind, she was here now.

  ‘You will be having lectures on various subjects,’ Sister Hayes continued. ‘Anatomy, nutrition, physiology and the care of patients.’

  Connie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was beginning to sound rather daunting. What on earth was physiology? Was she up to this? Sister Hayes had been talking for some time and several of her fellow students looked bored. One girl had closed her eyes. ‘You will be learning about hygiene,’ said Sister. ‘Especially personal hygiene.’ She paused. ‘For instance, as soon as I walked into this room I immediately knew that someone has not changed her knickers today.’

  The effect of her words was electrifying. Everyone sat bolt upright, their faces speared by embarrassment and horror. Sister Abbot had singled out the girl wearing a cardigan, and the one without her cap. Surely Sister Hayes wasn’t going to draw attention to somebody’s lack of clean underwear?

  ‘And what’s more,’ Sister continued relentlessly, ‘someone in this room has underarm odour.’

  Even though she had no reason, Connie, along with the rest of the girls was thrown into a blind panic as Sister Hayes walked slowly up and down the silent aisles, all the while heading in her direction. Even though Connie was always careful to wash and never left the bathroom without putting talc under her arms, she could feel her face heating up.

  ‘There is nothing worse,’ Sister Hayes continued, ‘than a helpless patient having to put up with a nurse leaning over them if she has underarm odour.’

  When she finally reached her desk and picked up the register, the class heaved a silent collective sigh of relief. ‘You are all dismissed,’ she said, ‘be back here at eight thirty sharp tomorrow morning and your training will begin.’