The Angels of Lovely Lane (39 page)

Mr Gaskell had been trained in the army and as far as Sister Antrobus was concerned there was no better training. But her loyalties were divided. ‘Well, I should say so. Ex-army, which in my opinion, as you know, Matron, is the best training a doctor can have, and I could tell as soon as I met him. But he’s not really cut out for St Angelus, although what we can do about it I have no idea. With his own father having the casting vote on the board, it’s not as though we can get rid of him.’

‘No, but we can try,’ said Matron. She was more desperate than she herself knew to say anything that would please Sister Antrobus. Anything.

‘In my opinion, Matron, it would be hard to beat Mr Scriven. There’s a consultant who knows how to run a firm. I don’t mind admitting that I have told Mr Gaskell as much almost every day, in the hope that he will look to Mr Scriven as his mentor, but I’m sad to say they barely speak.’

Matron’s heart melted a little as she listened to Sister Antrobus talk and chatter away. It was hard for her to concentrate on what she was saying. All she could see were moving lips and bobbing hair. She could have sat there all night, in that spot at the table and hung on her every word. As she leant over to fill Sister Antrobus’s glass yet again, the thought
please don’t let tonight end
flitted through her mind.

Sister Antrobus needed no encouragement. The wine had already loosened her tongue, and even though the notion that maybe she should slow down and stop drinking occasionally pierced the increasingly strange effects of the sickly wine, she continued to talk faster than she ever had before. The wine had made her feel warm and fuzzy and Matron was happy to let her continue. It gave her the opportunity to gaze on Sister Antrobus’s steel grey hair, piled up into a bun, at the touch of daring rouge on her lips. She watched, fascinated, as Sister Antrobus waxed lyrical about the ward she ran as what she imagined was a benign dictator. Matron even loved the slight nicotine stain in a crack on one of her front teeth. She knew Sister Antrobus was a secret smoker and so she took out her own cigarettes and lit one up, sliding the packet across the tablecloth towards Sister Antrobus.

She studied Sister Antrobus’s hands and thought to herself that they were indeed man-sized, but beautiful none the less. They could not be described as feminine by any stretch of the imagination.

As Matron looked at those hands, she wanted them to take her own and hold them.

Sister Antrobus had finished her wine.

‘Cheese and crackers?’ asked Matron.

‘Oh, that would be something,’ said Sister Antrobus, lighting her cigarette. Matron refilled her glass.

‘I suppose you have heard that your first year isn’t starting on your ward tomorrow. Nurse Baker, Lord Baker’s daughter. A terrible tragedy, poor man. All over the news it was. Thank goodness they didn’t mention that she is here, training at St Angelus. Sister Haycock has replaced her with Nurse Tanner. You’ve had her before,’ Matron called from the kitchen.

‘I have, a scrawny little thing. I’m amazed she has lasted this long. Expected her to be gone in six months. Apart from anything else, she has an accent as bad as the patients’, for goodness’ sake. I don’t mind telling you I was a little surprised she was ever taken on. Looks to me as though the standards in St Angelus will begin to slip if we start letting those kinds of girls in.’

‘Well, please don’t blame me, or Mr Scriven for that matter. As you know, she wasn’t my choice at all. In fact, I saw Mr Scriven as I was leaving theatre today and told him about Nurse Baker. He had seen it on the news too. I asked him what we should do if they mention St Angelus, or if a reporter comes here wanting to speak to someone. Mr Scriven was wonderful. He told me to send any reporters to him and he would deal with it.’

‘That’s the measure of the man,’ said Sister Antrobus. ‘He wouldn’t want you to know a moment’s concern. A wonderful man, he is.’

‘He told me you have a very busy day on tomorrow and asked whether I had a replacement for Nurse Baker. I told him, Sister Haycock had allocated Nurse Tanner, and he asked me to request that you keep a very close eye indeed on that young lady. If you think there is anything we should know, make sure you repeat it to either Mr Scriven or myself.’

‘I imagine he was not very happy when she was offered a place in this intake.’ Sister Antrobus emptied her glass. ‘He takes immense pride in ensuring that the kind of nurse we recruit is one that reflects our high standards, and I can tell you, Nurse Tanner falls a long way short.’

‘Yes, I know. He usually decides which girls are accepted and which aren’t, but in her case he was overruled by Dr Gaskell and Sister Haycock. He didn’t like that at all and I am sure, having been a military person yourself, you can appreciate that. I know I can.’

‘Oh, I am very aware of that, Matron,’ said Sister Antrobus. ‘Is Sister Haycock not aware of his rank in the medical corps or of the sacrifice he has made for our country? Maybe she should think on that.’

As she returned from the kitchen with the cheese and biscuits, Matron noticed that Sister Antrobus’s eyes shone brightly and her speech had become slightly slurred. She laid the plate down on the table and picked up the wine bottle, then put one hand on the back of Sister Antrobus’s chair as she leant over her shoulder to refill her glass. She could smell the lacquer on her hair, feel the warmth from the back of her neck. She smelt of woman, of perfume, of things that sent Matron’s senses reeling in delight. As she stood there she allowed her hand to brush gently across Sister Antrobus’s shoulders. She could feel the firmness and width of the bra strap beneath her fingers. The flimsy fabric of the blouse almost allowed her to feel naked skin and she caught her breath sharply. She swayed on her feet slightly and closed her eyes for a second.

Opening them again, she caught her breath and said, ‘I am so pleased that you are enjoying the wine so much. I wasn’t really sure if I was buying the right thing, but the lady in the shop assured me you would like it.’

She left her hand on Sister Antrobus’s shoulder and was sure that the frisson which ran from her like an electric current would alert the other woman. Maybe this was all she had ever needed to do. To touch someone. It was surely not only she who could feel the chemistry between them; Sister Antrobus must feel that almost tangible current too. She felt that she wanted to die from ecstasy when Sister Antrobus placed her own hand over the top of hers and said, ‘Matron, you’re spoiling me, you know. I usually only partake on Christmas Day. I fear I may be becoming a little tiddly.’ She giggled, and Matron felt as though her heart would melt right there and then.

Sister Antrobus dropped her hand to the table, with a slightly louder thud than was normal, and clumsily picked up her refilled glass. She appeared to have difficulty locating exactly where it was.

‘I shall be delighted to report back to you on Nurse Tanner,’ she said in an enthusiastic voice which was rising in volume. ‘I will do it with pleasure. Sister Haycock has to realize authority comes with time served. How dare she go against yourself and the wonderful Mr Scriven? You must both find a way to re-establish your influence on the committee and I am very happy to be of assistance.’

She knew the wine had loosened her tongue. She was also aware that she was behaving out of turn, but now it all made sense. Matron had wined and dined her in her private apartment to ask a favour. But there was no need. She would have done Mr Scriven’s bidding without any encouragement whatsoever.

‘I’m sure Mr Scriven will be delighted to hear that. We can’t have Sister Haycock getting all her own way. Those of us who preferred the old system must use every advantage we have to preserve standards and the good name of St Angelus.’

‘Quite. I couldn’t agree more.’ Sister Antrobus banged her glass on the table. ‘I don’t know about you, Matron, but I am always happy to have a reason to visit Mr Scriven and this gives me a perfect excuse. I can tell you this, Matron, five minutes alone with me in a room and that fine specimen of a man would need to call on all his army training to resist what I have to offer. He’s what I call a real man, and he still has some of his own hair, too. Any chance of putting a good word in for me? Seems to me he could do with the company of a no-nonsense woman who knows what’s what and could bring the smile back to his face.’

Sister Antrobus tipped her head back and emptied her glass. She laughed and her eyes became disturbingly vacant, seconds before her head fell forward with a resounding crash into the middle of the cheese plate. Matron watched as a lump of best Cheshire flew across the table and landed at the grateful Blackie’s feet.

Matron remained seated. She waited while her heart finished breaking and her disappointment settled to the point where she could begin clearing away the dishes without fear of dropping one or stumbling into something. It was difficult to see through the tears pouring down her face. She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands and then fumbled for the handkerchief she had secured inside the sleeve of her cardigan. She picked up the wine bottle and filled up her hardly touched glass to the top.

‘If you can’t beat them, join them,’ she said to Blackie, and downed the glass in one.

*

Dessie had been standing just inside the park entrance for almost an hour and had decided to give it one more cigarette before he called it a night. Not like Sister Haycock to be fanciful, he thought. But there is definitely no peeping Tom hanging around here.

Looking over to the Lovely Lane nurses’ home, he recognized Dana as she switched on the light in her room and moved over to the window to draw the curtains.

He promised himself a bag of chips on the way home and a bottle of Guinness to go with them. Taking out his packet of matches, he was about to strike one when he heard the sound of a twig snapping on the pavement, on the other side of the bush from where he was standing. A match flared and Dessie saw the face of a man as he lit his cigarette, threw the match to the ground and placing both of his hands in his pockets, his ciggie lodged in his mouth, turned his eyes up to Dana’s window.

Dessie moved cautiously to the edge of the grass where his bike lay on the path and pedalled his way to the police station, as fast as he could.

Pammy bumped into Branna as she burst in through the doors of the cloakroom on ward two to hang up her cape. ‘Am I late?’ she called.

‘You’re back,’ Branna said. ‘Holy mother. As God is true, you must be a glutton for punishment, you.’

Pammy had forgotten she needed to be on ward two earlier than on other wards and, looking up at the clock, saw that she was late by three minutes. She had run as fast as the wind up the last five minutes of Lovely Lane, ahead of Dana and Beth.

‘I didn’t have a lot of choice, Branna,’ she said, throwing her cape in the direction of the hook. ‘Have you not seen the news about Nurse Baker’s father?’

‘Seen the news?’ asked Branna in disbelief. ‘The whole hospital is wild with the talk so it is, the poor girl. But listen now, you aren’t late, but Sister Antrobus is and I can tell ye this, it’s never happened before, not ever, not once since the day I started here. Nor has she ever had a day off sick.’

She bent down to pick up Pammy’s cape, which had landed on the floor. ‘Now, listen while I tell ye. Dessie has told me to pop in as he has a bit of news for me now, he does, so I’m off out to the lodge. I wouldn’t dash if I were you. Staff Nurse is about to take report, I heard them all say so, and my, won’t she just be loving that.’

Pammy felt both relieved and concerned at the same time. ‘I hope nothing awful has happened to Sister Antrobus.’

‘Well, she may have gone under a bus for all we know,’ said Branna as she carefully manoeuvred her mop and bucket into the corner of the cloakroom. ‘We can but hope, I suppose.’

She blessed herself and, without another word headed up the corridor faster than she ever moved on the ward.

Pammy joined the assembled nurses in the office and took her old place at the window. There was a buzz in the room as the nurses began to realize there was no Sister Antrobus.

‘She will go down as a DNA for today,’ whispered one of the second years.

‘Nurse,’ barked the senior staff nurse, ‘Sister has never failed to attend anything.’

‘Well, pardon me,’ said the nurse. ‘I thought I was just stating the obvious.’

‘Just pay attention, will you,’ the staff nurse snapped. ‘We will hear shortly, I’m sure. There’ll be a perfectly good explanation as to why she is late.’ She secretly hoped that they didn’t hear, that Sister Antrobus didn’t turn up. She was excited at the prospect of a day of stepping in. Of being in charge and testing her skills.

Pammy turned slightly and looked out of the window, where she had a view of the entrance to St Angelus. She watched as the other lucky nurses, who didn’t have to begin fifteen minutes earlier than anyone else, poured in through the gates and milled around chatting. She spotted Beth and Dana, whom she had left only minutes before, walking in together. Beth seemed to be handing Dana a letter, or a sheet of paper, and whatever it was made Dana stop dead in her tracks.

‘Hellooo, Nurse Tanner.’ The voice cut through her daydreaming.

‘Yes, Staff,’ she said, realizing that everyone in the office was staring at her.

‘Did you hear a word I just said?’ Staff Nurse was hoping to be promoted to the rank of sister at the earliest opportunity and now practised her sternest voice.

Pammy looked around the room, confused. She had been deep in thought, watching the other nurses arrive for day shift and thinking how pretty they all looked. Capes loose and swinging, white caps bobbing, pink and white dresses and aprons crackling and her own good friends in their midst. She had completely failed to notice the night staff leave, or the fact that the staff nurse had slipped into Sister’s chair. She was instantly annoyed with herself. Daydreaming had been a problem throughout school. She had been determined that she would not succumb to it when she became a nurse.

Before Pammy had time to answer, the office door swung open and Sister Antrobus stormed in. Pammy thought she heard the sound of chins hitting the floor. The words
You look dreadful
were on everyone’s lips, but no one dared to utter them.