The Angels of Lovely Lane (28 page)

‘She’s working on that house with Jake. That’s a full-time job in itself.’ Biddy poured the tea and flopped down on her wooden kitchen chair. ‘Tea never tastes the same out of those green cups at the hospital.’ She slurped loudly from her very chipped old china cup. Elsie tipped the spilt tea from her saucer into hers.

‘Anyway, I have news,’ she said. ‘You need to keep an eye on your Sister Haycock’s back. After she left today, Mr Scriven came into Matron’s office not ten minutes later.’ Biddy raised her eyebrows. ‘See, I knew that would surprise you. He has it in for Sister Haycock. I heard him tell Matron that she had humiliated him in front of the board, and wasn’t it bad enough that he had been overruled in the first place when she was appointed to be director of the school. He told Matron Dr Gaskell was making some very bad choices and his judgement was all out, choosing his own son and the wrong sort of nurses. It was his age, he said. Losing it he was, he said. You should have heard him going on, Biddy. He was mad. Ranting about the young Mr Gaskell, he was, said the shame of having two consultants on one ward looked bad on him. He didn’t draw breath.’

‘Well, that I can imagine,’ said Biddy, taking out her cigarettes. She didn’t like what Elsie was telling her. She could sense danger a mile away and her skin tightened with fear. Sister Haycock was her charge and Biddy would have her back if it was the last thing she did.

‘Did he say anything else, about Sister Haycock, or any of the nurses?’

‘Oh, aye, did he. Said he wanted an eye keeping on the nurses he had said were not good enough for St Angelus and any slip-up from any one of those would be, er, what was the word?’ There was silence as Elsie appeared to disappear inside her teacup. Biddy lit her cigarette and slid the ashtray across the kitchen table towards her friend.

‘What, what was the bloody word?’ she shouted.

‘Hang on. It was a big word. I can’t remember.’

‘What? Remember, you eejit.’ Biddy was growing impatient.

‘Biddy, if you shout at me like that I will never remember.’ Elsie looked flustered. ‘Terminal, that was it, terminal.’

‘Terminal,’ Biddy repeated slowly.

‘What does it mean, Biddy? I wish I knew, but I don’t think that man is the saint everyone makes him out to be. He’s trouble, that one. I think he bullies Matron a bit. Even the bloody dog is scared of him. We need to watch him.’

Both women raised their cups to their lips to finish the last drops of their tea.

‘Hmm, terminal,’ they both said, at the same time.

‘Well, unless I’m mistaken, there’s not a lot of nursing can be done from there!’

Pammy almost jumped out of her skin as a ward domestic in the customary mustard brown wraparound apron came up behind her with a bucket on a low wheelie trolley and a mop smelling strongly of Lysol.

Pammy had been hovering outside the door of ward two, wondering what to do and where she should go. She had been told by Mrs Duffy to report promptly to the door of the sister’s office by eight forty-five, where she would be met by Sister Antrobus.

Branna had been given her instructions by Biddy. She was to watch Nurse Tanner like a hawk and report anything that appeared even slightly untoward. ‘And if you so much as hear the word “terminal” mentioned, you get on the phone and tell me.’

‘Terminus?’ said Branna. ‘And what would that mean?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Biddy, ‘but it isn’t good now so it isn’t and you must let me know straight away.’

Pammy had stood on tiptoe and peeped through the two circular viewing windows in the doors. The previous week, the entire intake had been taken on a full tour of the wards and departments. Sister Ryan had taken one group, Sister Haycock the other. Now that she was standing here alone, Pammy’s knees were almost knocking together in fear. She was about to face Sister Antrobus and all she wanted to do was run.

‘Oh, God, I’m sorry. It’s me first day,’ Pammy squeaked.

‘I know it is, love,’ said Branna. ‘I know who you are, too. I’ve been asked to keep an eye on ye. Now don’t ye worry, just remember I’m here if ye need me, but don’t go tellin’ anyone else I said that now, do ye hear me? They don’t like us and the nurses talking to each other, but we do it all the same. Mind, there’s some nurses think they are too high and mighty altogether to talk to the domestics.’ Branna whispered the last few words and winked at Pammy. Not trusting herself to speak, Pammy nodded. She had no idea what to say in response. How did Branna know who she was? Who had asked her to keep an eye out, and why?

‘If ye have a problem, ask any of the orderlies or the domestics to find Branna. You got that?’

‘I have, yes. Thanks, Branna, but what sort of problem might I have?’

‘Oh, nothing at all. Sure, there will be nothing to worry about at all, not a thing, no, nothing.’ It was as obvious to Pammy as the nose on Branna’s face that she was lying. ‘Now, when you go in through them doors, you see the first door on your left, that’s the sister’s office. They will all be in there, about to start report. Here, listen while I tell ye. See this door?’ Branna pushed a dark wooden door behind Pammy. ‘This is the ward cloakroom. Your uniforms will be delivered here and will be hanging on your peg each day. The laundry bag to put your dirty in is behind the door. It’s a bit of a pain, but if you live in Lovely Lane best you change at night, before you leave, and go home in clean. That way, you leave all the dirty here in the bag, so.’

Pammy nodded. They had all been taught this in the classroom by Sister Ryan, but Pammy didn’t want to upset Branna, who was being so helpful. Cross-contamination and barrier nursing had taken a whole day of lectures.

‘Come here,’ Branna said. ‘Give me your cape. I’ll hang it up for you. Here’s another tip. I know your name is on the tape, but there’s a little way to make it easier to know it’s yours. You can usually tell – some are much older than others and there are nurses here who are wearing the same capes they had before the war – but if you’re on wards with other new nurses you’ll never know whose is whose. See this one here?’ Branna stretched up and pulled back the skirt of a cape, and Pammy noticed a small lilac ribbon sewn on the inside hem.

‘See that? That way, you only ever take home your own cape. It can’t be something obvious on the outside now, but just something to catch your eye when you pull the cape back, to save you having to take them all off the pegs to look at the name tapes.’

Branna put down her bucket and leant her mop against the wall. ‘Now, you take one big breath, go through those double doors and knock on Sister’s door. Remember, you are as good as anyone else in that office and don’t let Sister Antrobus make you think any different.’ With that, Branna slipped Pamela’s cloak from her shoulders and almost pushed her through the swing double doors into the ward.

‘Come in.’ Sister Antrobus’s voice was so loud that Pammy nearly jumped out of her skin. She tried to turn the round, dark brown Bakelite doorknob, but it wouldn’t respond. She tried again. The knob rattled under the pressure and again the words ‘Come in’ rang out, but this time with more than a hint of impatience.

Suddenly, the door flew open. All Pammy had needed to do was push. She flushed red with embarrassment.

‘Who are you?’ Sister Antrobus looked Pammy up and down.

‘I’m Nurse Tanner, Sister Antrobus,’ Pammy responded.

‘Are you really?’ Sister Antrobus said sourly as she turned on her heel and walked back into the office. Pammy remained standing in the doorway.

Opposite Sister Antrobus sat a nurse wearing a woolly navy cardigan. She looked absolutely exhausted. Pammy assumed she had been on night duty and was handing over to the day staff. She turned her head and looked down the ward at the rows of beds lining the walls and saw another nurse. She was also wearing a navy cardigan. Pammy shivered. The first signs of spring had been in the air this morning as she had walked from Lovely Lane to the hospital. The sun had shone weakly, and for the first time she had heard a bird singing. It was a sound that stood out against the familiar daily call of the seagulls. A nurse in a light blue dress with a petersham belt secured with the St Angelus silver buckle also sat on another chair at the side of the large oak desk. The uniform indicated that she was a staff nurse. Behind her stood a row of girls, pencils and paper in hand, wearing the pale pink dresses and frilled caps of student nurses, who were clearly day staff. Sister Antrobus wore the dark navy sisters’ uniform and looked every bit as severe as Pammy had been told she would. This was the moment when Pammy realized a truly dreadful fact. One which made her mouth dry and her legs turn to water. She was late.

‘Stand there and listen.’ Sister Antrobus didn’t look at Pammy, but distractedly pointed to a group of nurses standing against the back wall. Pammy immediately did as she was instructed, thinking that maybe Sister’s bark was worse than her bite and that the older nurses in Lovely Lane had exaggerated.

Sister Antrobus shifted her spectacles upwards with a twitch of her nose and peered through them at Pammy, as though she were a specimen to be examined and found wanting. ‘The official start time for day staff may be eight forty-five, but on ward two, it is eight thirty. I like to begin early, in order to receive a more detailed report from the night staff.’ Pammy thought she saw a look of weary despair flit across the face of the night nurse.

She watched with intense interest as the nurse lifted a card from a long wooden frame containing all the patients’ details, concentrating so hard that she had almost stopped breathing. The nurse lifted the first flap and read out a patient’s name. ‘Mrs Toft, bed one.’

Pammy didn’t want to miss a word and quickly looked at the nurses standing against the opposite wall for guidance. They had the advantage of standing behind Sister Antrobus. A second-year nurse had her pen poised, ready to write, and nodded towards Pammy’s pocket, indicating that she should do the same. She smiled encouragingly at Pammy, who took her own pencil and small red Silverline notebook out of her apron pocket. Sister Ryan had told them they would need to have pen and paper with them at all times and be prepared to write down any instruction given by a doctor.

‘Never try to remember it in your head,’ Sister Ryan had said. ‘That is how mistakes happen and mistakes cost lives.’

Pammy had no idea what she was supposed to write, but she reckoned that if she followed suit when the helpful nurse opposite began to scribble her notes she should be safe. She was too focused to notice that the other nurses weren’t yet writing anything down.

‘Mrs Marchmont, bed two, post-operative D and C and EUA. TPRs as normal. Pulse 80, BP 120 over 80 resps 22. PV loss now moderate to light. Visited by the houseman at ten p.m. when she complained of low abdominal pain. Analgesia given at ten thirty p.m. and now written up for dihydrocodeine PRN. Houseman says to remain on bed rest until PV bleeding is light for three full days. She slept well until three a.m. when we gave her a cup of tea and two more dihydrocodeine. She slept again once they had begun to work until six a.m. and ate a light early breakfast. She has passed urine this morning and had her bowels opened first thing, but of course, now she’s on the dihydrocodeine, that won’t happen again until the next Preston Guild. Mrs Sampson, bed three...’

Pammy looked down at her notes for Mrs Marchmont. The nurse had spoken faster than she could write and she couldn’t remember all the abbreviations. Reading it back, she could barely understand what she had written and she was sure that she had taken much of it down wrong. She looked up anxiously and the sharp-looking, but obviously friendly nurse winked. Pammy breathed for what felt like the first time in minutes.

‘What are you doing?’ The question rang out through the office. Pammy felt her throat constrict and her mouth go dry. Sister Antrobus was looking directly at her. Pammy glanced around the room, hoping she was speaking to someone else.

‘Nurse Tanner, I said what are you doing?’

‘I was, er, writing down what the night nurse said, Sister Antrobus.’

‘Really? It seems to me that you don’t have a clue what you are doing. God alone knows what they teach over in that building. What a waste of money that was!’

Pammy thought she had to answer. That was her first big mistake. ‘I, er, wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, Sister.’ She looked towards the nurse who had guided her for reassurance and noticed that she had put her own paper and pencil in her pocket and would not meet Pammy’s eye.

Pammy dried up and folded her hands, clutching her notebook in front of her.

‘You don’t write anything down until I issue the day report, and I do that when the night nurse has left. You write down the day report and instructions. You need only take note of what is to be done by you, not what the night nurses have already done. The night report is only for information. Do you understand?’

‘I do now, Sister Antrobus,’ Pammy replied with more confidence than she felt.

Sister Antrobus was unimpressed. ‘In future, Nurse Tanner, simply reply yes Sister or no Sister. Again, I must ask you, do you understand?’

Pammy was not going to be caught out again. ‘Yes, Sister,’ she replied meekly.

She listened to the remainder of the night report in silence. Most of what the night nurse said sounded like a foreign language. Despite the past weeks in the school of nursing and the swotting up she had done on the gynae section of her book, she could barely pronounce, never mind spell, any of the words anyway.

The day report arrived soon enough and Pammy wrote down, for the first time ever, the names of patients, their conditions and what the day held in store for them. Then came the news she had been warned to expect.

‘And you, Nurse Tanner, will be on the bedpan rounds, with responsibility for the sluice room. Staff Nurse Bates, will you keep Nurse Tanner with you today, please. If she leaves the sluice room or isn’t scrubbing out bedpans.’

There were two staff nurses. Pammy could tell immediately which one was Staff Nurse Bates. She had lovely blonde hair, worn in the fashionable new urchin style. She winked discreetly at Pammy and gave her a warm smile. Pammy felt the breath she had been holding leave her body in relief.