by Gray, Millie
‘Happy she would be – but why?’
‘Because isn’t my mum St Teresa of Avila incarnate.’ Dotty now crossed herself before adding, ‘Honestly, her giving birth to eight children was, as she saw it, her carrying out her duty as a good Catholic woman.’ Dotty now clasped her hands in prayer and raised her eyes to the ceiling before adding, ‘And when God calls her to kneel before Him she hopes to be able to say that it was her ambition to give birth to six sons who all became priests and six daughters who became nuns.’
‘But you said you only have seven siblings.’
‘That’s right. But twelve good Catholic children were what my mother desired to have. She also prayed that any children she did have would be servants of her God.’
‘And how many are in religious orders?’
‘None.’
‘Not one?’
Dotty was now sitting on the side of the bed but her legs were still moving. ‘That’s right. Not one.’ She gasped in feigned disbelief before mischievously twittering, ‘She nearly had one success with my brother Paul but the devil stole the pattern. Lured him into the claws of Bernadette Shaw, he did.’ Dotty sighed again. ‘And believe it or not they don’t take married men with triplets on the way into the seminary.’
Kitty chuckled. Already she knew that she liked Dotty and her even dottier sense of humour. A friendship was forming and Kitty knew, or hoped, it would last their whole lives through. Her curiosity was awakened now and she was eager to know more about Dotty’s background. Tongue in cheek, she asked, ‘And what does your dad do?’
‘Oh, he faithfully bends his elbow every night in Flannigan’s bar,’ quipped Dotty before brusquely changing the subject. ‘But enough of me; what about your parents?’
This terse reply alerted Kitty to the fact that jovial Dotty did not wish to discuss her father. She too did not wish to say anything right now about her dad but she did manage to mumble, ‘My mum is … Well she passed away when I was fifteen.’
‘And your dad?’
‘My dad … ?’ Kitty just shook her head and decided not to elaborate on him. Deftly she changed the subject by adopting a confidential pose and whispering, ‘What is also alarming about the draconian rules in here is, and that is according to one of the second-year nurses’ – Kitty paused briefly to make sure that she had Dotty’s full attention before adding with a tease – ‘that the Assistant Matron patrols our block here every night just to make sure we’ve not smuggled in any young, handsome, virile men! She also said that we would be severely reprimanded if we opened windows to admit nurses who have been out dancing and missed the curfew at ten!’
Dotty got up off the bed. ‘Well I don’t think I’m going to make their or my mother St Teresa’s grade.’ She now advanced to the door and she turned and awarded Kitty with a roguish smile before quipping, ‘Not sure if I want to but what I do know is I’m too tired to resign tonight so I’m off to bed.’
Kitty too was smiling as the door clicked shut.
6
JUNE 1944
Mondays in Leith Hospital’s Outpatients and Emergency department were always extremely busy. The unit was managed by a very strict Sister. Doctors, nurses and cleaners were all terrified of her. It was even rumoured that the cockroaches, when they heard her approach, flung themselves into the boiling sterilising unit as it was less torturous than being put to death by her. Nonetheless, she ran an efficient division, probably the most effective department in the whole of the hospital, and nurses accepted that being trained by her was their passport to any job that they would apply for when they graduated.
The unit attended to all the casualties that were brought from the various industries. In particular, they were kept extremely busy with workers from the shipyards and docks, where men’s working conditions were far from safe.
It was into this environment that Kitty and Dotty were transferred when spring had arrived. Dotty and Kitty had been so excited to be starting their accident and emergency training. It was true that they had got used to mopping up vomit and cleaning backsides on the wards – but getting the opportunity to be on the front line, when patients who had just experienced accidents or traumas came in, just seemed so stimulating and worthwhile.
They both did very well in the Outpatients and Emergency department and were sorry when their four-week stint was over. Kitty was then transferred to the Men’s Medical ward and Dotty to Men’s Surgical.
* * *
It only took two weeks of being on the Men’s Medical ward for Kitty to feel that she had no other option but to hand in her resignation to Matron. The decision to resign was not being made rashly by Kitty. In fact, when she thought back over the events leading to her taking this momentous decision, she still felt it was the right course for her to follow.
Always, she would remember that from the minute she had met Sister Irvine of the Men’s Medical ward an instant animosity rose up between them. Kitty felt that even if she had stood on her head she could never have pleased the frustrated old bitch, as Kitty thought of her.
This present bright Monday morning brought everything to a head. Kitty had arrived on duty ahead of time. She did this in an effort to make sure that she did not get off on the wrong foot with Sister Irvine. She had just finished dusting the ward piano when the Sister swept up the ward and immediately ran her right index finger over the instrument. ‘Do you call this dusted?’ she hissed.
Kitty could only shrug. It was dusted but it would never be to the unreasonable standards of Sister Irvine.
Embarrassed, sulking Kitty then went as fast as she could to put the bedpans out before going on to wash the lockers. She should have had a trainee nurse like herself working with her but the poor lass was suffering from a sickness bug. Just when Kitty was rushing to take the bedpans in and put them into the sluice the breakfast trolley arrived. She was so pushed for time she decided not to wash the bedpans there and then but to attend to them later. Quickly, she dashed back into the ward to dish up breakfast when Sister Irvine screamed, ‘Anderson, where is Mr Smith and when did you last see him?’
Looking up the ward to where Mr Smith should have been in bed, Kitty became alarmed when she noted that he was not there. ‘Eh, eh,’ she stammered, ‘I saw him half an hour ago when I started the bedpan round. He said that he could now go to the lavatory on his own.’
‘Anderson, I advised you that he was a wanderer and to keep an eye on him.’
By this time Kitty was so fed up she haughtily replied, ‘Y-e-e-s and I would have kept him under surveillance but I have only one pair of hands and two eyes. And even you, Sister, could not have managed to do what I have done this morning.’
Before Sister Irvine could reply, Dotty arrived on the ward. Submissively she nodded to Sister Irvine before saying, ‘Assistant Matron said I should report to you this morning as you are shorthanded on your ward.’
‘Yes, we are shorthanded and what staff is available … is worse than useless.’
‘Could you do the breakfasts, Keane?’ Kitty implored. ‘And I will go and finish up in the sluice.’
Dotty nodded and without another word Kitty fled to the sanctuary of the wash room.
After taking all her fury out on scrubbing the bedpans she began to wash and disinfect the floor. As she swished the mop backwards and forwards she became swamped by emotion which caused her to slump down and weep uncontrollably.
On hearing her sobs, Dotty joined her in the sluice. ‘Come on now, Kitty. Don’t let that old trout get the better of you. Look, it is your break time soon so why don’t you go and pull yourself together.’
‘I will go, Dotty, but not to pull myself together. I can’t stand the constant unwarranted criticism. It seems I can’t get anything right so I’m going to hand in my notice to Matron before they ask me to resign.’
‘No. Please don’t do that. Besides, where would you go?’
‘Into domestic service, I suppose, because I need to find a job where I would also get a roof over
my head.’
‘Look. Don’t be hasty. We all get it in the neck. But like you I have nowhere to go so I just bite the bullet.’
‘But you have your mum and dad in Belfast.’
Dotty let out a derisive chuckle before confiding, ‘St Jude’s laundries where they beat young lassies into submission would be an easier option. My parents live in a continual war zone and my mum, who can’t get the better of my drunken dad, beats her frustration out on my brothers, sisters and myself. Go back there? No. No. At least here the abuse is all verbal.’
Kitty was due to have some time off in the afternoon but before leaving the hospital she called in at the Matron’s office.
The Matron looked up when she entered and without saying a word Kitty laid the sealed envelope that held her resignation down on the table.
‘Is that what I think it is, Anderson?’
Kitty sniffed before nodding.
‘Then let me say something. You have the makings of one of the best nurses that have ever been trained here. You, I predict, will make a wonderful career for yourself. Yes, the training and discipline are stringent, but if we do not teach you to reach the highest standards that you can, then we will have failed you. Now do you wish to pick’ – she now pointed to the envelope – ‘that up, and after you have had a few hours to think things over, come back on duty tonight knowing that you are making the grade?’
Kitty shook her head.
‘Right,’ emphasised Matron, ‘tell you what … I will leave that envelope lying there for a week and if in that time you have not changed your mind, I will open it and accept your resignation.’
Four hours was what Kitty was due to have in way of a break within her split shift. The writing of her resignation and the subsequent visit to Matron to deliver the, as Kitty saw it, ‘surrender notice’, wasted an hour of her precious time.
The three hours that were left would be spent going to her grandmother’s house to visit Rosebud. This ongoing arrangement had been put in place when Kitty had become estranged from her father and Connie.
Kitty had been the only mother Rosebud had known since she was born. It was only natural then that when Kitty had started to do her training in Leith Hospital and had therefore gone out of Rosebud’s life the child felt bereft.
Granny Jenny, concerned for the little girl, had then brokered a visiting arrangement, whereby on one of Kitty’s afternoons off Connie would bring Rosebud down to Jenny’s in Parkvale Place and Kitty would then be able to spend time with Rosebud. The compromise worked very well because Connie always made sure that she was well away from Parkvale Place before Kitty arrived.
When a breathless Kitty arrived at Parkvale Place, Rosebud was in the pathway.
‘Kitty,’ she called out, ‘Granny says you’ve to hurry up as she doesn’t know what to do.’
‘About what?’
Rosebud shrugged before putting up her arms so that Kitty could lift her up.
Once inside the house Kitty put Rosebud slowly down as she tried to take in the scene in the house. Connie, wringing her hands and whimpering, was pacing up and down the floor. Her grandmother, on the other hand, was seated on a chair and her eyes were bulging and she too was whining like a pained dog.
‘What’s going on here?’
‘Oh, Kitty,’ Jenny whimpered, ‘I think Connie’s labour has started and, oh … Kitty, will you please, please help? I don’t want what happened to your mum to happen to Connie because I might do the wrong thing again.’
Forgetting that she was not on friendly terms with Connie, a concerned Kitty went to her and automatically started to rub her back. ‘How often are the pains coming, Connie?’
‘The bad pains are about every quarter of an hour but I am just so, so uncomfortable.’
‘Hmmm,’ was all Kitty said. But she did take a long look at Connie who was extremely bloated. Indeed, her stomach was so swollen that it looked as if she was about to give birth to at least triplets.
Placing her hand over her mouth Kitty tried to think what she could do. Like her grandmother, she painfully remembered and regretted what had happened to her mother when she had given birth to Rosebud. No way did she wish to be involved in anything like that. She accepted that her inexperience had not caused problems when she had assisted Dora with her labour but Connie … well, her age! More importantly, she also acknowledged that even although she had not spoken to Connie for going on four months, she still cared for her, and missed her so very much.
Gathering her resolve, Kitty then said, ‘Look, Connie, I have very little experience in midwifery, but from the limited knowledge I do have I think we have time to get you home. Once you’re there I’ll get a midwife from their base on Restalrig Road to come and attend to you.’
Connie shook her head. ‘Are you saying that you think I should leave here on my own? What about the state I’m in?’
Shaking her head, Kitty lifted up Connie’s coat and as she wrapped it around her she said, ‘No. Not by yourself. I’m going to go with you.’ Offering Connie her arm Kitty continued, ‘And I will stay with you every inch of the way. So come on now, we simply can’t waste time.’ Turning to Rosebud she simpered, ‘Darling, I’ll try and see you … maybe tomorrow or most definitely the day after that.’
The journey from Parkvale Place took much longer than Kitty thought it would. They were just halfway up the steep Restalrig brae at the corner of Cornhill Terrace when Connie said, ‘I don’t think I can go any further. Please let me rest here on this garden wall.’ As soon as she was seated, Kitty checked her watch and noted that Connie’s contractions had intensified and were now coming every eight minutes.
Her first reaction was to panic. But one of the first things that you are taught when doing your nurse’s training is that, even although you are faced with a difficulty, you do not convey your anxiety to the patient. This being the case, Kitty drew in three deep breaths to calm herself and also to give herself time to think. On the third inhalation her eyes wandered up to just beyond the Leith Provident Grocer’s shop. ‘That,’ she almost screamed, ‘is exactly what we need right now!’
It was, of course, the midwife’s house and station. So all Kitty had to do was to drag a now very reluctant Connie up to its doors and all the expert assistance that Connie required would then be on hand.
‘Right, Connie, you have about five minutes before your next contraction so what I need you to do is to be brave and hurry yourself up. So come on, let’s get going …’
‘Home!’
‘No. Just to past the shops there on the left. What we are trying to do is … get to the midwife’s house. Honestly, Connie, there is a lovely woman there, a midwife, Sister Fowler, and she will help us. Know something?’ Kitty babbled on in the hope of distracting Connie from her plight, ‘It was she, Joan Fowler, who persuaded me that I could, and should, go into nursing.’
Six minutes later Kitty was banging on the door of the midwife’s house. ‘Joan, Joan!’ she hollered.
The door opened and there thankfully stood Joan. ‘Where’s the fire?’
‘No fire but look there at the bottom of your steps it’s my …’ Kitty hesitated. ‘My stepmother and she is about to give birth. I just couldn’t carry her up the steps but you and I could.’
Joan nodded.
A few minutes later Connie was safely lying on a bed and all the expert assistance she required was on hand.
Kitty glanced up at the clock. ‘Oh no,’ she screeched. ‘I only have twenty minutes before I’m due on duty again.’
‘Do you have to go now?’ Joan asked while she checked another of Connie’s contractions. ‘Surely not? The baby’s head is visible. Look.’
‘Surely yes,’ Kitty called back as she began to race from the house. ‘Arriving late for duty I can assure you is at the very least … a hanging offence!’
Kitty sprinted all the way back from Restalrig Road to the Leith Hospital. Not once did she stop to draw breath. However, valiant as her effort was, whe
n she bounded in the hospital doors she only had two precious minutes to spare before she was due on the ward.
In an effort to be on time she found herself still pinning on her cap when she arrived at the entrance to Sister Irvine’s ward. Heaving a sigh of relief, she took in a deep breath but as she pushed open the door a voice from the floor called up to her. Looking down she was surprised to see that the speech was coming from the ward cleaner, who was, as per usual, down on her hands and knees scrubbing the corridor leading into the ward.
Kitty immediately drew up short. She really liked Mrs Green, who always had a kind word for everyone. She was also a person who would ask the like of Dotty, who had no relatives in Edinburgh, home for tea and a blether.
‘Sorry, Mrs Green,’ Kitty said as she slipped another hairgrip into her cap. ‘I didn’t quite catch what you said.’
‘Just that I don’t know what it’s all about but Sister Irvine told me to tell you that you are not to go on to the ward but to report immediately to her in her office when you come on duty.’
Swearing was something that Kitty very rarely resorted to. But, on hearing that she was to report to Sister, and not to go on to the ward, she reckoned that once more it was confrontation time. Completely convinced that Sister Irvine had an ulterior motive she muttered under her breath, ‘Bloody sadist, that’s what she is. Yes, oh yes, I bet the old bitch has it in for me … yet again.’
‘Ah, Anderson,’ Sister Irvine said in a voice dripping with honey, ‘there have been two serious incidents in our vicinity that have resulted in multiple casualties and Matron has decided, since you did so very well when you did your spell of training in the Outpatients department, that you should report there for your evening shift.’
To say that the feet had been cawed from Kitty was an understatement. Sister Irvine, she concluded, was being so reasonable that it was one of two things. She was either delighted that she would not have to endure Kitty being on her ward, or Matron had had a word with her about the unjust treatment that she had meted out to Kitty and her moderate tone of voice was her way of apologising.