Connie’s Courage (10 page)

The evening was over and the dance hall was starting to empty. Tiredly, Connie linked up with Vera whilst they made their way outside, and then fought their way through the crush to their bus stop. Connie rubbed her stomach as it gave a hungry rumble.

‘I'm starving,' she complained as they climbed on the waiting bus.

‘Well, whose fault's that?' Vera challenged her. ‘If we'd stayed with them lads as first showed an interest in us, like as not they would have treated us to a bit of sommat to eat.'

‘Yes, and what would they have been expecting to get from us for it?' Connie demanded pithily.

‘Well, expectin's one thing. Getting it's another,' Vera giggled.

The bus dropped them outside the Infirmary, and quickly they made their way inside.

There was a bit of a to-do in the reception area: an elderly man whose face was covered in blood, and an elderly woman with him who was obviously his wife. Connie noticed that one of the two burly
policemen with them, was the same one who had taken such a shine to Mavis.

Skirting past the commotion they hurried into the tunnel.

‘We're later than I thought we were going to be,' Connie commented a little bit apprehensively, as they came out of the tunnel. ‘I … Oh!'

They both came to an abrupt halt as, suddenly, Sister Jenkins was standing in front of them.

‘And where, may I ask, have you two been?' she demanded.

Connie could feel all the pleasure of the evening draining out of her body as though it had been her blood. In its place was a cold, icy feeling of deathly despair.

‘We … we've just been out for some air, Sister,' Vera fibbed.

‘I see. I take it then, Nurse, that you are recovered from the indisposition which took you off Sister Hughes' ward this afternoon?'

Vera went red, and said nothing.

‘And you, Nurse Pride?'

There was nothing that Connie could say. She suspected that Sister Jenkins knew exactly where they had been!

‘This is not the first occasion on which I have had to speak to you on a matter of discipline, Pride.'

Connie quailed beneath her disapproving look, her apprehension growing.

‘I have no option but to report your behaviour to Matron.'

Connie sucked in a shocked breath, her apprehension turning to a cold, hard ball of fear. Suddenly, and too late, Connie realised how much trouble she was in. It was obvious both from Sister's expression, and her reaction, that she was taking their breaking of the rules very seriously.

The warning she had received the last time she had been in trouble flashed through Connie's mind. She had been afraid, then, of what would happen to her if she was dismissed from the hospital but, foolishly, she had chosen not to think of that fear earlier. Now though, she was forcibly reminded of it by the cramping dread seizing her stomach.

Why on earth had she been so stupid? Unlike Vera, Connie loved working at the Infirmary. And besides, if she were to be sent away, where would she go?

‘You will both go straight to your room, and you will remain there until Matron sends for you. The Guardians of this hospital expect its nurses to behave with obedience and decorum. You have been extremely fortunate to be taken on as probationers. And yet, you in particular, Nurse Pride, have repaid the generosity of the Guardians toward you with disobedience and the most shameful kind of behaviour,' Sister announced coldly, further reinforcing Connie's fearful awareness of how much trouble she was in.

Her stomach was a mass of nauseously churning nerves, whilst her head was a mass of equally churning fears. Now, when it was too late, she
bitterly regretted her own foolish stubbornness. She had put her precious hard-won security at risk, she realised. And for what? A dance?

‘The nurses of this Infirmary have a reputation to maintain, and an example to set to those less fortunate than themselves. You will not go on duty in the morning, and you will not leave your room without permission. Is that understood?'

‘Yes, Sister.' Connie said numbly, bowing her head in despair.

With a further quelling look, Sister Jenkins turned on her heel and sailed away, leaving Vera whispering wrathfully to Connie. ‘Someone must have told her, and I can bet I know who it was!'

Connie said nothing. She was barely aware of what Vera was saying. She felt too sick with worry to listen to her. All she could think of was the morning and Matron. Matron would tell her to leave, she was sure of it. And all because she had given in to Vera. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. She could feel herself trembling inwardly with shock. It had never occurred to her that they might get caught. Oh, how she wished she had not been so foolish!

When they reached their room, Josie was waiting anxiously for them.

‘Eeh, but you are late!' she told them. ‘Sister has been round and your beds were empty!'

‘And I suppose you told her where we were, did you, Goody Two Shoes,' Vera accused Mavis who was sitting up quietly in her bed. ‘Well, we might
have known that you would give us away!' Vera added nastily.

Josie's face had grown bright pink. ‘Vera, that's not fair!' she protested. ‘Mavis told Sister that you were right bad with your monthlies and that Connie had gone down to the kitchen with you, to make you a hot water bottle and a cup of tea!'

When neither of them said anything, Mavis herself said quietly, ‘I don't think you were the only nurses who went to the dance, not with George Lashwood being there!' She gave a small sigh. ‘I would have liked to have heard him again myself. Connie, what is it? What's wrong?' she demanded with concern, getting up off her bed and coming over to Connie, as she saw the tears in her eyes.

‘Sister caught us coming in,' Connie told her, too upset to hold back the truth. ‘We … She's going to report us to Matron!'

‘Oh Connie! Mavis's hand went to her mouth, and her eyes reflected her shock.

‘I'm starving! You'd have thought Sister would have let us have our breakfast,' Vera announced angrily.

‘I couldn't eat anything,' Connie told her numbly. ‘I feel that sick! I didn't sleep a wink last night. Oh, Vera, what will we do if Matron dismisses us?' she whispered, unable to keep her fear to herself any longer.

‘As to that, I don't rightly care!' Vera retorted.

‘I'd be glad if Matron did send us packing. I'm fair sick of this place, Connie. I thought nursing was going to be exciting, not spending all day scrubbing and polishing.' She gave a defiant toss of her head. ‘I was thinking of leaving come Christmas anyway!'

As Connie digested her friend's comments, she reflected bleakly that it was all very well for Vera to talk of leaving: she had a home to go to, and two parents who, by all accounts, doted on her, whilst Connie …

Connie stiffened as the door opened. Sister Jenkins was standing outside the room, a nurse on either side of her.

‘Matron will see you first,' she told Vera, coldly.

After Vera had gone, marched away like a prisoner, Connie smoothed the fabric of her dress, and fidgeted nervously with her apron and her cap. Would this be the last time she would be wearing them? Although she had never said so, she had felt so proud and so smart in her uniform.

Whatever happened to her, she couldn't go back to somewhere like Back Court, she would rather die, Connie told herself fiercely. And she would certainly rather die than embrace the life Bill Connolly had planned for her. A sick shudder gripped her. Oh, why hadn't she thought properly about what she was risking, instead of being so stubborn!

She was on the verge of bursting into tears, but she knew she mustn't do so.

It seemed a lifetime to Connie before Sister
Jenkins returned for her. It was certainly more than long enough for her to think about, and regret, her stubborn rebelliousness, over and over again. Just as she had regretted running away with Kieron, and wished she had listened to Ellie when she had begged Connie to leave him.

Even though she had been expecting it; waiting for it, in fact, the abrupt opening of the door made her start. There was no sign of Vera, and Connie wondered frantically if she had just been told to leave without any more ado.

‘I trust you have had time to repent of your shocking behaviour, Nurse Pride?' Sister Jenkins demanded, as she looked at Connie.

Too distraught to speak, Connie swallowed and nodded her head.

Matron studied the report she had in front of her. Normally with transgressions as serious as Connie's had been, especially after her two earlier warnings, she would have dismissed the girl immediately. But here in front of her were reports from the Sisters in charge of the wards on which Connie had worked. All of them, without exception, praised not just the high standard of her work, but each, in their own way, revealed that they considered that Nurse Pride – whilst as yet a very rough and uncut diamond – had, nevertheless, the potential to become not only an excellent nurse, but, in time, something much more. Good Sisters
were born, not made, or so Matron considered, and good Theatre Sisters, even more so.

But no matter how promising a young nurse might be, discipline was, in Matron's opinion, the single most important thing she had to learn. It was impossible to be a good nurse without it! Straightening the reports on her desk, she rang the bell for Connie to enter.

Forbidden to leave their room, it was thanks to Josie and Mavis that there had been water for them to wash in this morning, and for Connie to smooth down her unruly curls before putting on her freshly starched cap, Connie acknowledged, as she advanced towards Matron's desk. There was a chair she could have sat in but Matron did not invite her to do so, and so Connie remained standing.

‘You are, of course, aware of why you are here, Pride?' Matron began.

‘Yes, ma'am,' Connie acknowledged, swallowing hard against the tension locking her throat muscles.

‘You have already been warned, not just once, but twice, about certain unacceptable behaviour.'

Connie bowed her head in silent assent, fiercely blinking away her frightened tears.

‘Your fellow probationer has informed me that it was at your suggestion that the two of you broke the rules by leaving the hospital without permission.'

Connie felt sick with disbelief. Vera had blamed
her? When the whole idea had been Vera's own? She wanted to defend herself, but feared to do so in case she made her own situation even worse. How could Vera have done such a thing to her? She was supposed to be her friend! Connie knew that, had their positions been reversed, it was not something that she would have done.

Matron frowned a little as Connie remained silent. She had a pretty fair idea of just who the instigator of their transgression had been, and whilst she had accepted Vera's version of events without any comment, she had expected that Connie would refute it. Matron's opinion of Connie began to improve. Loyalty was an excellent virtue in a nurse, and so was the ability to hold one's tongue, especially under pressure.

‘You realise, of course, the serious nature of your behaviour, and the consequences of it?'

Connie went white. She knew what was coming, and she bowed her head.

Matron stood up and came round from behind her desk. Connie could feel herself starting to shake. Was Matron going to remove her cap and her apron and send her thus from her office so that everyone could witness her disgrace?

Matron was tall and rather rotund, and her steely inspection made Connie clench all her muscles. She must not. She would not break down in tears and plea to be spared.

‘When this hospital was rebuilt on the lines laid down with the assistance of Florence Nightingale,
it was part of her recommendation that nurses be trained here in such a way that their training, and their demeanour, would reflect well on both the Infirmary and those who ran it.

‘I look upon the task of maintaining the standards set down by Miss Nightingale as a sacred trust, Pride. I will not have that trust, or the exemplary record of my nurses, damaged or sullied in any way. One bad apple can contaminate the whole barrel, as we all know. My first instinct, so far as you are concerned, is to dismiss you from this Infirmary forthwith, and in disgrace.'

Connie dared not raise her own gaze to meet Matron's. A horrid feeling of light-headedness and nausea was beginning to spread unpleasantly through her.

Matron cleared her throat. ‘However, it seems there are mitigating circumstances in your defence.'

Connie's eyes widened. Unable to stop herself, she looked at Matron.

‘I have received some degree of praise for your work from those in charge of monitoring it, Pride. It seems that they consider you show a glimmer of promise of eventually becoming a good nurse. And for that reason, I am disposed to give you another chance.'

Another chance? Connie was terrified that she might faint with shock, and relief! She, who hadn't come anywhere near to fainting in the operating theatre!

‘Good nursing though, Pride, is not just about
practical diligence. It is about duty, responsibility, obedience: these are the virtues I wish to see growing in you, Pride. The virtues I intend to see growing in you,' Matron concluded ominously. ‘Virtues which, I fear, are currently lacking in you.

‘The only reason you are not now facing dismissal and disgrace is because of those members of my staff who have expressed their faith in you. I trust you will not let them down!'

‘Connie, are you all right?'

‘What did she say?'

Connie looked from Mavis's concerned face to Josie's anxious one. There was no sign of Vera, and somehow Connie was not surprised. She could well understand that Vera would feel uncomfortable having to face her so soon after having laid the blame for what had happened entirely on her shoulders.

‘She said I am to have another chance,' Connie told them shakily. ‘Oh Connie!'