May pushed the doors open and made her way towards the ward. There she found a large room with slim iron-railed beds either side, each of them occupied by patients tucked neatly under green counterpanes. In the middle were a few comfy chairs, a medical cabinet on wheels, and a marble-topped desk for the nurses. A Christmas tree the same height as May stood beside the desk, colourful baubles dangling from its branches, a silver star at the top. Paper chains hung around the walls and a banner emblazoned with the message ‘Merry Christmas’ hung across the middle of the ward.
A pallid, sober-faced young man, part of his leg missing beneath his knee, sat incongruously beneath the banner in a wheelchair. May felt a wave of deep sorrow for him; what he must have been through didn’t bear thinking about.
A woman who May presumed must be Sister Jordan walked towards her. What she lacked in stature she more than made up for in feisty character. A bristling sort of woman, Sister wore a navy blue uniform dress and starched apron, her cap perched on tawny-coloured hair.
She gestured to May to come forward. ‘Nurse Robinson, I assume.’
‘Yes, Sister. Reporting for duty.’
‘Tell me’ – Sister’s tone was sharp – ‘what makes you think you’ve got what it takes to become a nurse?’
May, taken by surprise, couldn’t think of an answer.
‘Be quick, Nurse, I haven’t got all day.’
‘I just want to work in a job that matters, Sister.’
‘What’s in it for yourself?’
‘Erm… to feel good about meself.’
Sister regarded her keenly. ‘The word, Nurse, is myself.’ She made to move, then hesitated. ‘It isn’t that your dialect is wrong – indeed you should be proud of your heritage – but it’s important that patients from other areas understand us in their hour of need.’
‘Of course, Sister.’
Sister turned on her heel and strode towards the office. ‘Time will tell, Nurse Robinson,’ she called over her shoulder, ‘if you’ve chosen wisely or not.’
May was set to work on menial tasks on the ward – making beds, washing locker tops, serving meals – and she felt as though she was being used as a ward maid. She soon realised, however, how essential this work was, and that the responsibilities of patient care took time to learn. Gradually, under the watchful eye of Sister Jordan, she was given more duties.
At first May suffered from lack of confidence. She was eager to learn but worried that she wasn’t getting things right which made her overly self-conscious. It only took one indignant stare from Sister to turn May’s insides to jelly and she was all fingers and thumbs.
One day, as May did the bottle and bedpan round, a job that no matter how many times she did the task, it still made her squirm, especially when it was an old gent like this who couldn’t manage, she was so embarrassed she averted her eyes.
The old gent looked up at her with weak soulful eyes. ‘Hawway, hinny, you’ve seen it all before. And if you haven’t then take no notice o’ mine ’cos it’s a big disappointment.’
His pyjama jacket open, his body emaciated and shrunken, he was a sorry sight. May could see each one of his ribs. As she helped with the glass bottle, acutely uncomfortable, her face reddened.
He shook his head. ‘That was supposed to make yi’ laugh and feel better, Nurse.’
May was taken aback. How kind of the old gent to want to make her feel better.
‘Believe me, pet…’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’m more mortified than you. And if you don’t mind me sayin’, take no notice of us fellas… we’re all mouth but underneath we’re scared for what’s in store.’ As he freed himself from the bottle, he nodded. ‘You’re an angel in disguise, for doin’ a job like this.’ His wizened face gave an abashed smile as he handed her the urine-filled bottle.
May felt ashamed; never again would she allow a patient to see her true feelings. She was a nurse now, and it was her duty to behave like one.
She placed the bottle on the locker top.
‘Mr Townsend,’ she told the old man, as she helped pull up his pyjamas bottoms and made him comfortable beneath his blanket again, ‘we nurses are too busy to notice anything but the job in hand, don’t you know,’ she finished with a wink.
As she walked away Mr Townsend guffawed. ‘That’s the ticket, Nurse.’
* * *
Sister Jordan made sure May was taught hospital rules, discipline, and medical procedures. May learned not to flinch when patients returned to the ward from surgery, as she knew her reaction to gruesome wounds, disfigurement and amputations was important to the patients’ confidence and recovery.
May wasn’t supposed to converse with patients (especially about personal matters) unless discussing their medical care or taking case notes – like their family history. But as she grew more competent and less afraid of doing the wrong thing she began to question the rules. Hadn’t Mr Townsend said that beneath their tough exterior the men were scared? These men – some servicemen – needed extra care and attention to help them on the road to recovery.
May began to have confidence in her role as a nurse. When she put on her uniform, it was almost as if she changed mentally and became the part she was playing. She left the doubtful and immature May behind and took on the role of Nurse Robinson. Patient care brought out the maternal side in her and began to feel like a welcome responsibility. She became her patients’ protector and did her utmost to make their stay on the ward go smoothly.
* * *
At breakfast one morning at Parklands, Maureen appeared looking anguished.
‘What’s up?’ May asked.
‘Didn’t you hear the news this morning?’
May shook her head. ‘I was late and had to dash to get ready.’
‘Apparently, last night over four hundred bombers were despatched to raid Berlin. Twenty-five planes were shot down over enemy territory and a further twenty-nine planes journeying home crashed. Some ran out of fuel as they searched for an airfield to land in.’ Maureen shook her head. ‘There was such dense fog last night. Those poor boys, their last moments don’t bear thinking about, or their families’ suffering.’
May shied away from these thoughts. She wouldn’t get maudlin – it wasn’t her tragedy. If any of the survivors came to the hospital her task would be to help them recover, and to see they got reunited with loved ones.
‘I wonder if any of the airmen will come here?’
She soon found out.
Jimmy, a rear gunner, was admitted to the ward with a broken ankle. He had bailed from his burning plane as it came over land. He was considered the lucky one, the only member of his crew to survive. But the poor boy’s face was so badly disfigured, he didn’t think so. He didn’t want to see anyone. He wished he’d stayed in the plane and ended it all.
But Jimmy, a fighter, grew stronger as time went by and was eventually going to be transferred to have surgery to reconstruct his disfigured face.
‘You’re alive and you’ve kept your sight,’ May told him, as she looked at the gauze mask he insisted he wore to cover his face, ‘that’s what matters to those who love you.’
‘I’ve been told, Nurse,’ he said with a southern accent, ‘I’ve a long haul of operations ahead of me. I know I won’t end up no Prince Charming,’ he joked but May heard the catch in his voice. ‘All I want is to look… presentable.’ He gave a heavy sigh. ‘That’s what counts.’
Although he was doing a man’s job Jimmy seemed little more than a boy, and May sensed he had a rascally spirit that reminded her of Billy. But there was no way could she have romantic feelings for him as he was likened to a young brother.
May was choked. She admired Jimmy for his courage and determination because she’d witnessed all the pain and suffering he’d been through. She stole spare moments to strike up conversation with him, getting him to talk about himself and his life before the war and his family. She saw him visibly relax as he talked about his private life.
As the days went
by, the more she got to know him, the more upset she felt for him when he got so down he didn’t want to speak to anyone.
* * *
‘My office, Nurse Robinson,’ Sister commanded one day as May made beds with another nurse.
May didn’t like the ominous tone in Sister Jordan’s voice. As she stood worrying outside the office door, she tried to think what hospital rule she could, unwittingly, have broken.
‘Enter, Nurse Robinson.’
Sister Jordan was writing at her desk. She looked up, her face stern. ‘Nurse, I observed you fraternising with a patient.’ She paused, as if giving May time to comprehend the heinousness of her crime. ‘We must only speak to patients about their treatment. Understood, Nurse?’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘I’ll overlook the misdemeanour this time and I won’t report to Matron.’
‘Thank you, Sister.’
‘Another thing.’ Sister fixed May in her probing stare again. ‘It doesn’t pay to get emotionally involved with patients.’
‘I understand, Sister.’
‘See that you do. That’s all, Nurse Robinson.’
* * *
‘I think Sister’s right,’ Maureen whispered that night.
The three nurses sprawled on May’s bed in cotton dressing gowns over pyjamas, with blankets wrapped round them as the weather outside was beastly cold. The rooms, unlike downstairs where Jenny and Eileen had the luxury of a cast iron radiator, had no heating. ‘We shouldn’t get involved.’
It was nearly ten thirty, so they kept an ear out for Night Sister, making her rounds for lights out.
Maureen continued, ‘I know it’s difficult not to get close to the patients but consider this. What if you became attached and then the patient died? You’d be heartbroken and wouldn’t be able to do your job properly. It’s not fair on the other patients who need you. My way of helping is to say a prayer.’
May liked Maureen best. She was an only child and you could tell she was used to having nice things. Her posh voice reeked of a good education but she wasn’t remotely spoilt, her feet were firmly on the ground.
‘Huh!’ Valerie said indignantly. ‘You try tellin’ that to some poor lass who’s just lost her bairn and needs a shoulder to cry on.’ Valerie was assigned to Maternity and, though she wasn’t allowed in the delivery room, she reckoned the screams she’d heard from that place had put her off marriage and having children of her own for life.
‘Mind you,’ she told the other two, ‘that doesn’t mean I’m not goin’ to have a try of… you know what.’
‘How can you be sure you won’t get pregnant?’ From Maureen’s tone, May guessed she was a little appalled.
Valerie raised her eyes. ‘This isn’t the dark ages. Lads know how to take care of that side of things.’
May was transported back to that day on Cleadon Hills with Billy Buckley when she’d thought the same thing – and the result was Derek.
‘Me mam’s had six bairns,’ Valerie told them, ‘and she telt us childbirth is like shellin’ peas.’ She looked disbelieving. ‘That’s not what I hear. It sounds like a horror picture.’ She shuddered. ‘Anyway, has anyone here gone all the way?’
May hoped she wasn’t blushing, giving the game away. She was torn. On the one hand she was nervous about letting slip how she knew about such matters but on the other, she felt a responsibility to warn Valerie not to be so naïve.
‘Girls shouldn’t rely on lads to be accountable… I mean…’ She felt she was in the spotlight as all eyes turned on her. ‘…it’s us who would suffer in the end.’
‘As for praying,’ Valerie went on, ignoring her, a hint of scorn in her expression, ‘that doesn’t help.’
‘How can you say that?’ Maureen cried.
‘Because it’s never helped me.’ Valerie, for once, letting her defences down, looked vulnerable.
Surprisingly, Maureen didn’t try to persuade her to say more and only gave a sympathetic nod. She exuded tranquillity, which May envied. She knew if ever she needed a listening ear she would be able to rely on Maureen.
As the wind whistled through the sash window and the blackout curtains billowed, Maureen gave a heavy sigh. ‘This isn’t my first choice of vocation. I wanted to be a nun.’
‘Crikey!’ Valerie looked horrified. ‘Why aren’t you, then?’
‘Mum. She was devastated when I told her. She objected to her only daughter being married to Christ. She said I’ll do more good if I’m a nurse. So here I am.’
‘She has a point,’ May said.
‘We made a pact. I’m to be a nurse till the end of the war and if I still feel the same about being a nun, then Mum will give her blessing.’
‘Blimey. Don’t let Matron find out or there’ll be ructions on. A nurse’ – Valerie mimicked Matron’s voice – ‘doesn’t think of monetary gain or do this work for any other reason than because it’s her life’s vocation.’
May regarded Maureen. ‘What kind of job did you do before now?’
‘That’s the trouble – I didn’t. We live in Cleadon village and Dad owns a clothes factory in the town which mostly manufactures uniforms. I was sent to learn shorthand and typing and when Dad’s secretary left to enlist in the Women’s Royal Army Corps, I was volunteered to do the job. I’m an only child, you see, and though my parents are good and loving they don’t like to let me out of their sight. But they don’t understand that working in a factory isn’t what I’m meant to do with my life.’
It must be nice to have someone who cared, May thought, even if it was overprotective parents. All she’d wanted was for Dad to take an interest in her.
After the others retired to their beds, May, crawling between cold sheets, thought of Jimmy, who was to be transferred to the plastic surgery burns unit at East Grinstead tomorrow. Though she was sad, because she’d become attached to the lad and knew she would probably never see him again, the move would be best for all concerned. Jimmy would start his facial reconstruction and May wouldn’t be emotionally involved. She vowed never to be so close to a patient again as they became like family and it was far too painful.
Her spirits low, May found herself thinking about the manner in which soldiers died. She prayed to God Billy hadn’t suffered and that the end was quick.
Tossing and turning in bed, May’s thoughts turned to Alec Hudson and she found herself smiling. Though he could be impudent, he was also capable of being gentlemanly and considerate – and he got full marks for being persistent.
As her lids drooped, May remembered she’d promised to write to him when she’d settled in at the hospital. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that she would like to get to know him better.
10
The first weeks at Parklands became a round of long, tiring days. What with work on the ward, lessons and studying by torch light till the early hours, May suffered from lack of sleep. She was prone to heavy colds in winter and worried she might be stricken with one now. And with a shortage of nurses – many had left to serve in the Queen Alexandra’s Imperial Military Nursing Service (QAIMNS) – May felt she couldn’t ask for time off.
One evening before Christmas, when unusually both roommates were out, May planned an early night with a stone hot water bottle. As she drew back the covers to collect the cold bottle to fill, someone rapped at her door. May was surprised to see Eileen from downstairs, dressed in mufti, standing there, polishing her spectacles with a handkerchief. Eileen was rather aloof but a clever lass too; her hand was always the first to shoot up in class whenever a consultant asked a question in a lecture.
She squinted at May. ‘I’ve just arrived back and I don’t want trouble, but there’s a lad outside called Alec who says he wants a word with you.’
Without further ado, Eileen put her spectacles on, then turning on her heel, she rushed for the stairs.
At a loss to know what Alec was doing here, May grabbed her cloak and made her way downstairs. She opened the door and went out into the
street. The night was jewelled with stars, and she saw, in the dusky light, a figure standing beneath a tree.
She hissed, ‘What are you doing here, Alec?’
He strode towards her. ‘I thought I’d surprise yi’.’
‘You did that. Only, lads aren’t allowed anywhere near the school. You’ll get me into trouble.’
‘Sounds like you’re in prison.’
She saw a scrape on his chin where he’d cut himself shaving. May was touched he’d felt the need to impress her.
‘You didn’t write.’ He sounded peeved. ‘I went to the flat in Whale Street because I thought that’s where you lived.’
‘I don’t.’
‘That friend of yours answered the door. She said you hadn’t been in touch since you started here. Did you tell her to say that to put me off?’
At the mention of her former friend, May experienced a pang of sorrow which she quickly dismissed.
‘I would never,’ she told him. If Alec only knew – he’d been the last person on her mind at that distressing time. ‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch but so much has been going on recently, what with settling in and learning the ropes at the hospital. I have thought of you, Alec, but to be honest I simply forgot I’d promised to get in touch.’
‘I forgive yi’.’ He put a possessive arm around her shoulders. ‘We’re together now. That’s all that counts.’
She asked, ‘Was there a special reason you wanted to see me?’
‘I wanted to carry on where we left off.’ He turned her chin up with a finger and gave a playful grin. ‘Did you miss me?’
Although May was enjoying the cuddle, she began to grow increasingly uncomfortable.
‘Alec, you can’t stay. I’ve told you, lads aren’t allowed to hang around here.’
‘Blimey.’ He removed his arm. ‘It’s like you live in a monastery. Tell us when your next day off is, then I’ll go.’
Our Last Goodbye: An absolutely gripping and emotional World War 2 historical novel Page 10