Connie’s Courage. Annie Groves
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