Connie’s Courage Page 5

  His mother was waiting for him when he opened the door to their shabby accommodation.

  ‘Harry, the best of news!’ she exclaimed happily. ‘I took the ferry across to New Brighton to see your father’s Aunt Martha. She has agreed that we may move in with her, Harry, on condition that I look after her. Oh, Harry, I am so pleased. The house is big enough for any family, and there is a garden for Sophie. The air is so much healthier there as well, and you are to have a room of your own for when you come home from Hutton! Harry, it is such a relief! I do not think I could have tolerated another night in this dreadful place.’

  Harry looked ruefully at his mother. ‘Great Aunt Martha is an old, cantankerous bully who will treat you like a servant, Mother. You know how Father always said how mean she was. I might have secured some extra work …’

  ‘I shall not mind looking after her, and anyway it will give me something to do. I don’t want you to put your career at risk by taking on so much extra work that you neglect your teaching duties, Harry,’ she told him gently.

  Harry sighed, but he knew better than to argue with her.

  ‘There is more good news,’ she continued merrily. ‘We have heard today that they are taking on probationer nurses at the Infirmary. You know how much Mavis has always wanted to be a nurse!’

  ‘The Infirmary!’ Harry stopped her sharply. ‘But mother that is the poorhouse hospital.’

  ‘Well, we are poor, aren’t we?’ Harry heard his sister Mavis challenge him, as she came into the room.

  ‘I shall have my board and a wage, and I shall be training to do what I have always wanted to do,’ she told Harry proudly.

  Harry’s heart sank. It hurt him inside that they had come to this, and that there was nothing he could do about it.

  ‘It is what I want, Harry. To be a nurse!’ Mavis told him fiercely.

  ‘A nurse, yes,’ Harry stopped her. ‘But an Infirmary nurse is not …’

  ‘Not what? she demanded. ‘Not as good as other nurses? Well, let me tell you something, Harry Lawson. I am going to be the best nurse there is! If the Infirmary will take me on, then that’s where I shall go! And if you’re ashamed of …’

  ‘I shall never be ashamed of my family,’ Harry stopped her fiercely, adding in a quieter voice, ‘But I am ashamed of myself, for not being able to do better by you all.’

  The Matron of the Infirmary was not a person to be trifled with, and she was no fool either. When she glided, like a ship under full sail, into the carbolic-smelling, scrubbed room in which the batch of would-be new nurses were waiting for her, it was with the express purpose of ensuring that they recognise her authority and quailed under it.

  Her experienced glance took in the gaggle of young women in front of her, but it was the sudden giggle of one of them that caused her to turn her head and focus on her.

  A potential troublemaker. Matron knew exactly how to deal with those and if she hadn’t just had an interview with Mr Harris P Cleaver, Clerk to the Board of Governors of the Hospital, during which he had appealed to her not to turn down any of the new recruits so that they could meet the Government’s demands, Connie would have been shown the door without any further ado.

  However, the ears of the British Government had already caught the first threatening rumble of war, lying menacingly in the distance like thunder, and had started to prepare for it. More soldiers would be needed and more nurses to mend their wounds. Decisions were made and orders given.

  Matron’s bosom had heaved, as she had drawn herself up to her full height, and reminded him, ‘Sir, this hospital has always put the thorough and excellent training of its nurses above their number. Quality before quantity has been our motto, which is why we have never, as some other Poor Hospital’s have done, taken onto our wards untrained girls from the poorhouse itself.’

  ‘Matron, it is because of your excellent reputation for training young women to become firstrate nurses, that we have been given this task of recruiting and training more.’ Mr Cleaver had informed her. ‘It is because our Government wants the very best of nurses to care for our wounded soldiers – should there be a war, our wounded heroes,’ he had emphasised, ‘that we are required to train more.’

  There had been several more very flattering remarks of this nature made to her by Mr Cleaver, and, eventually Matron had acknowledged that if the Government were in need of more nurses, then no hospital in the entire length and breadth of the country, was more equipped to train them to the highest of standards than the West Derby Union Infirmary.

  And possibly no Matron! Because the Infirmary was no ordinary poorhouse hospital! Thanks to the foresight of one of its Guardians, its nursing practices and training methods had been recommended by no less personage than Florence Nightingale herself.

  Matron was justly proud of that reputation, and she looked upon it as almost her sacred duty to maintain it. Her experienced gaze assessed and judged the freshly scrubbed faces in front of her.

  Connie looked right back at her defiantly, ignoring the sharp tug the girl standing next to her gave her gown.

  They had been waiting for nearly half an hour for the Matron to see them to assess their suitability, and Connie had learned that the calm steady-eyed, brown-haired young woman tugging her gown was Mavis, and that she had wanted to be a nurse all her life; and the anxious-looking redhead with the freckled nose and gangly body was Josie, whose stepmother had no longer wanted her at home. The blonde girl with her cheeky grin and upturned nose was Vera Harper, and Connie had already recognised that she and Vera were kindred spirits. In no time at all, they had been chattering happily together.

  ‘So you all wish to train as nurses! Well, make no mistake it is very demanding work and not for the work-shy or feckless.’

  She paused and gave Connie a very long, cold look.

  ‘No matter how humble your position, and how elevated my own, no error on your part will escape my notice.’

  Josie made a small anxious sound, and Connie gave her a withering look.

  ‘Do you have a problem with your eyesight, Miss?’ the Matron asked Connie coldly. ‘When I

  am speaking to you, your gaze, in fact the whole of your attention, should be on me and not wandering around the room.’

  Connie fought back the blush she could feel wanting to burn her face. The teachers at the Park School in Preston had sometimes been strict, but nothing like this, and she wasn’t a schoolgirl any more, she was … Connie tensed, as she remembered just what she was, and why she was here.

  ‘You will be working a probationary period, after which your suitability to continue your training will be assessed.’

  Matron had two strict rules, neither of which she ever allowed to be broken! The first was that her wards were, at all times, kept in a state of total cleanliness and the second, that her nurses were, at all times, kept in a state of total obedience. Occasionally, as now, there were situations when the two rules married admirably together.

  ‘One of my nurses will come and escort you to a bathroom where you will wash and then present yourselves for inspection.’

  Not even her imposing presence could check the murmur of apprehension that ran round the room. One girl put up her hand ‘Please, ma’am, does that mean we will have to take off our clothes?’

  Matron pursed her lips. Of course, it was a good sign that a young woman should be modest, but as Matron had good cause to know, some of the girls who came to her for training were from the poorest families. Their clothes were removed from them and washed in the hospital laundry; every inch of their skin was scrubbed clean, and every hair on their head checked to make sure they were not bringing any kind of infestation into the hospital with them. Matron was as relentless, as she was tireless, in her war against dirt and its potential to carry disease.

  Sternly she looked at the girl. ‘Of course it does. How else would you take a bath? This is a hospital,’ she reminded them, ‘and within it you will see certain sights that would not normally be witnessed
by an unmarried woman. But you will not be women – you will be nurses!’

  ‘I won’t do it. I’m not letting anyone see me without my clothes,’ one of the girls announced, pink-cheeked.

  Matron had left in a crackle of starched dress and apron, and Connie listened, waiting to voice her own refusal, when Mavis said quietly, ‘It is simply a necessary precaution, and nothing to be feared.’

  Feared? Who was afraid! Certainly not her, Connie decided!

  And it seemed later, when they all huddled together after undergoing their examination at the hands of a stern-faced Sister, that none of the others had been either.

  ‘I felt a right Charlie,’ one of the girls announced. ‘A proper telling off I got for droppin’ me drawers straight off, instead of waiting behind the screen for Sister to call for me!’ ‘Urgh, she had such cold hands,’ one of the other girls laughed, and within seconds they were all chattering and giggling, trying to outdo one another as they described their embarrassment.

  ‘So why did you decide to become a nurse, Connie?’ Vera asked her.

  For a moment Connie froze, feeling trapped. How could she tell them the truth? They would shut her out if she did. This was meant to be a fresh start for her.

  She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to lie to them but she knew that she had no alternative.

  ‘Oh, it was a bit the same for me as it was for Josie,’ she announced, as carelessly as she could. ‘I was living in Preston with my father and my stepmother, but my stepmother didn’t want me around. She’d got a couple of little ones of her own, and I heard they were wanting to train up nurses here.’

  As she spoke, instead of feeling guilty, Connie felt as though a weight had fallen off her shoulders; as though suddenly she was the young woman she was describing; and as though Kieron, and all the horror she now associated with him, had never been. Her active imagination was already making her the girl she was claiming to be: Connie Pride, whose unkind stepmother had forced her to leave her home and fend for herself. And, after all, it wasn’t completely untrue!

  Connie felt her spirits lift, laughing and giggling along with the others.

  ‘What is going on? Stop this noise this instant!’

  The stern voice of the woman approaching them, shocked them all into silence.

  ‘I am Sister Jenkins,’ she told them. ‘Come with me, please.’

  She led them down into a tunnel, which connected the hospital to the nurses’ home on the other side of the road. Once there, they were all handed a bundle which included their uniform, the cost of which, they learned, would be deducted from their wages. Clutching these bundles, they were then taken to the dormitory-like rooms where they would be sleeping.

  ‘I am in charge of the nurses’ home,’ Sister Jenkins told them, ‘and if I have any complaints about you, they will be referred to Matron. Let me warn you now, that Matron does not like receiving complaints about the probationers.’

  The small dormitories contained eight beds each, and Connie was delighted to discover that she and Vera were sharing, but not quite so pleased to learn that Mavis was also in their dormitory. There was something about Mavis that reminded her, unwontedly, of her sister Ellie.

  When Vera whispered conspiratorially to her, ‘Pity we’ve got Miss Goody Two Shoes in here with us.’ Connie couldn’t help giggling in response.

  Josie was also in the same dormitory, and Mavis, for all her apparent primness, turned out to have a good sense of humour so that, by the end of the day, Connie felt as at home with her new friends as though she had known them all her life.

  It took less than a month for Connie to realise that her rosy dreams of being Florence Nightingale, were just that. The reality was that the probationers’ duties were onerous and exhausting.

  ‘Connie, you’ve forgotten your cap,’ Josie announced, as the four of them got up from the dinner table.’

  Oh grief, throw it over will you, Josie,’ Connie begged her.

  Obligingly Josie did so, but before Connie could catch it, Vera made a grab for it, and threw it to Mavis, calling out, ‘Catch it, Mavis.’

  Within seconds, the fun of the jape Vera had started had the four of them giggling as they threw Connie’s cap to one another like a ball.

  ‘Ouch!’ As the cap sailed over her head and she made a leap to catch it, Connie bumped into something or rather, someone.

  ‘What on earth is going on in here?’ Sister Jenkins’ ice-cold glance took in Connie’s dishevelled curls and missing cap, and then travelled to where the cap was now lying on the floor. ‘This is disgraceful behaviour,’ she told Connie coldly. ‘You are a probationer nurse, not a schoolgirl, and this hospital has certain standards of behaviour that it expects from its nurses.’

  ‘But it wasn’t just Connie …’ Josie began, only to go bright red as the Sister turned a gimlet glare on her.

  ‘I am well aware that all four of you have behaved disgracefully but … ‘ she continued, turning to confront Connie, ‘your behaviour is by far the worst. Laughing out loud, your hair half coming down, your cap …’ Her mouth folded in a forbidding line. ‘If you do not wish to train to be a nurse, then I can assure you that there are a hundred girls or more, who would be only too happy to take your place!’

  As she listened to the lecture she was being given, Connie suddenly realised to her own shock that, despite the hardship their training involved, she did not want to be dismissed.

  ‘Any more of this kind of behaviour and I shall report you to Matron.’ Sister Jenkins warned Connie curtly.

  FIVE

  ‘'Ere, Josie, that’s my bed you’re sitting on,’ Vera protested without heat, as she came bustling into their dormitory room. ‘I can’t wait until we all get rooms of our own,’ she added, as Josie reluctantly got up from her comfortable seat.

  ‘I heard one of the Sisters saying that, with all the new nurses who have been taken on in case there’s a war, some of the junior nurses may have to double up and share a room.’ Mavis warned her, adding, ‘Anyway, I like sharing. It reminds me of being at home and sharing with my little sister.’

  ‘Oh, you would, Goody Two Shoes, Connie teased her. ‘Personally, I can’t wait for my own room – perhaps then my bed won’t be covered in other people’s things!’ she announced, giving Josie a meaningful look.

  ‘Well, it isn’t my fault I’ve had to put my clean uniform on your bed,’ Josie defended herself indignantly, recognising immediately that Connie’s dig was intended for her, ‘Vera has put all her things on my bed.’

  By the time the good-natured squabble had been resolved, it was time for them to go down to the dining hall for their evening meal.

  When the hospital had been rebuilt, thanks to the influence of Miss Florence Nightingale and her converts, a great deal of thought had been given to the needs of the nursing staff. Thus, the hospital was linked to the nurses’ home by a tunnel, which saved the nurses having to go out in inclement weather. As well as their rooms, the nurses had been provided with a proper dining room, plus a recreation room, which they could use in their off-duty hours.

  ‘At least they feed us properly here,’ Josie commented, as they filed out into the corridor.

  ‘Properly! Is that what you call it? I’m sick to me stomach of stew and steamed pudding!’ Vera announced in disgust. ‘I’d give half a week’s wages for a decent pork pie and a glass of porter.’

  ‘Well, we’ve all got an evening off on Saturday,’ Mavis reminded them, adding with a sigh, ‘I was hoping we might get the whole afternoon, then I could have taken the tram down to the pier, and got baggage ferry across to New Brighton, to see my mother and my sister.’

  ‘Ooh, New Brighton!’ Josie exclaimed excitedly. ‘They’ve got ever such a good pier there. Me auntie took us once.’

  ‘Well, since we’re all off together, why don’t the four of us tek ourselves out for a bit of jollity,’ Vera announced.

  ‘We could go to a music hall! Connie joined in excitedly.

/>   She had never forgotten the magical occasion on which Kieron had taken her to a music hall in the early days of their romance. She had been entranced by everything about the evening; the singing; the comedian, but most of all the excitement and fun of being amongst people who were determined to have a good time.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Josie agreed eagerly. ‘We could go to the Majestic, Marie Lloyd might be there.

  The mention of the famous singer made them all sigh a little enviously.

  ‘We always go to the Christmas panto at the Royal Court, but I’ve never been to a music hall,’ Mavis joined in wistfully.

  ‘You ll love it, Connie assured her.

  ‘I can’t wait, Josie wriggled with anticipation. ‘Which one do you think will be best, Vera, the Majestic or the Empire?

  ‘The Majestic!’ Vera pronounced firmly. ‘That’s where me mam and dad allus go. They took me with them a few months back, and there was this singer. He was that handsome he made me come over all of a quiver!

  The saucy smile Vera gave as she extolled the virtues of the male singer made the other three laugh, and, within minutes, they were excitedly making plans for their evening out.

  Looking forward to the fun which lay ahead of them helped to ease the hard work of scrubbing ward floors, cleaning the sinks and washrooms, and all the other drudgery that seemed to constitute their daily lives.

  Not that they didn’t have some contact with the patients. When she heard Josie complaining about the women on her ward, Connie felt pleased that she was working on one of the male wards.

  ‘Not that some of them aren’t hard work, if you know what I mean,’ she confided darkly to the three, over breakfast one morning. ‘I overheard Sister telling one of them off for trying to show her his you know what!

  Mavis went slightly pink, but a certain earthy heartiness was part and parcel of what they were learning, and even she laughed and admitted that she had heard that some of the male patients liked upsetting the probationers by behaving in an ungentlemanly fashion.