A Daughter’s Choice. Cathy Sharp
Wednesday or Friday evening this week.’
‘I’m free on Wednesday so we’ll make it then. Pick you up outside the Dower House at seven. OK?’
‘Yes, lovely.’ My mouth was dry with excitement. ‘I’d better go …’
‘Yes. Go on then, and don’t worry so much, Kathy. Matron doesn’t bite.’
‘She might,’ I said, remembering her expression. ‘Bye now.’
After we had parted I had to hurry. There were still five minutes before I was due on my ward but Sister expected us to be early and would look pointedly at her watch if we were a second over our time. I was hardly going to make it. Fearing a reprimand, I began to run.
‘What are you doing? Running in corridors is strictly forbidden!’
I stopped and swung round guiltily at the sound of Matron’s voice, waiting in trepidation for her approach. Now I was in for it!
‘I’m sorry, Matron. I was delayed and didn’t want to be late.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘Rules are there for a purpose, Miss Cole. You could endanger a patient by careless behaviour. Always take your time and think what you are doing. Remember that in future.’
‘Yes, Matron. I am very sorry.’
‘Very well. I shall not punish you this time, but do not let success go to your head, Miss Cole. You are here to work and everything else comes second to that duty – do you understand?’
‘Yes, Matron.’
‘Go along now or you will be late.’
I turned and began to walk at a sedate pace towards the ward, feeling her eyes boring into my back. She must think I was a harum-scarum girl with little or no sense.
‘And congratulations on winning, Miss Cole.’
I heard her voice as I turned the corner but did not dare to look back. Had she really said those words or was I dreaming?
Sister Norton glanced up from her desk as I entered the ward. She glanced at her watch and frowned but said nothing about the fact that I was three minutes late.
‘The patient in number five requested a bedpan some minutes ago. Make sure that he is comfortable. Miss Cole.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
I hurried off to do her bidding, knowing that I had a black mark against me. Matron had warned me and I would need to work extra hard to scrub out any idea that I had let my success in the race go to my head.
‘You’re the first VAD ever to win,’ Ally said to me the next morning at breakfast. ‘Apparently most get bogged down in the gravel – especially those who haven’t entered before. Nurse Peters is blaming her chair. She says it was just bad luck that she got stuck, and that you had help, but that’s sour grapes.’
‘She was OK to me. Anyway, I was told to be careful in the gravel so I did have help of a kind.’
‘Who told you – Dr O’Rourke?’ Ally raised her brows at me. ‘You’ll have Eleanor Ross breathing fire down your neck. She thinks he’s her property because he took her out one night.’
‘He’s asked me out for a drink on Wednesday.’
‘You’re joking?’ Ally stared at me and then chuckled. ‘That really will upset Miss Hoity-Toity.’
‘I don’t see why. It’s just a drink to talk about people we both know. I told you he used to live in Farthing Lane.’
‘I thought he went off to a fancy school when you were just a kid?’
‘Yes, he did – but he visits his sister now and then. I didn’t think he would remember me. I was surprised when he wished me luck before the race.’
‘Well, well …’ Ally looked mischievous. ‘You’re a dark horse, Kathy Cole.’
‘It’s just a drink,’ I giggled as she looked disbelieving. ‘But yes, I do like him – quite a lot.’
‘You watch it, Kathy! Men who look as good as Dr O’Rourke aren’t to be trusted. Besides, what about Billy Ryan? I thought he’d asked you to marry him?’
‘Yes, he did – but I didn’t say I would.’
‘You didn’t say you wouldn’t either.’
‘No …’ I shook my head at her. ‘It’s just a drink, Ally. Dr O’Rourke isn’t interested in me that way. He’s just being friendly, that’s all.’
‘We’ll see.’ She grinned wickedly. ‘You be careful, Kathy, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘Well, if I had any idea of grandeur this morning’s duty will knock it out of me. I’m scrubbing floors.’
‘Poor you,’ Ally said. ‘I’ve got seven hours on the ward and lectures all afternoon.’
We both attended lectures, which were more absorbing than we’d imagined as they dealt with the practical side of nursing rather than theory. We were shown how to read thermometers and had our first go at taking each other’s pulse. We were also given detailed instructions in recognizing signs of serious distress in patients.
‘Now that was interesting,’ Ally remarked as we left the lecture room afterwards. ‘For the first time I really felt that I was being trained as a nurse and not just used as a skivvy.’
I felt just as she did, although it all seemed a little daunting. There was much more to nursing than I had imagined at the beginning.
‘There’s such a long way to go. But at least we’ve made a start. I’m going to read up all the information I can about the vital signs in the pamphlets they gave us. I know we shan’t be expected to deal with a crisis ourselves for years, but you never know when you might see something that ought to be reported to a senior nurse.’
Ally nodded, looking serious. ‘There was a death on our ward this morning. The dreadful thing is I’d been having a joke with him earlier. He had had both legs amputated but I thought he was getting over it. He was talking about getting false limbs and looking forward to going home – and then when I came back from the sluice room there was a crowd around his bed.’
She looked upset and I put an arm about her waist. ‘I’m sure they did all they could, Ally.’
‘Yes, they did what they could, but it was so sudden – a blood clot, apparently. Sister told me it often happens after a serious operation.’ She frowned. ‘Maybe if I’d known what to look for when I was talking to him earlier …?’
‘You can’t blame yourself. There were experienced nurses and doctors looking after him. If they weren’t aware of anything wrong, how could you be?’
‘Of course I couldn’t, but it’s sad, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s very sad.’ I squeezed her waist. ‘Come on, let’s go and have a cup of tea to cheer ourselves up. You’ll never guess what I managed to buy in the village shop on Saturday morning – a packet of shortbread biscuits. If you promise to stop moping, I’ll share them with you.’
‘You’re a good friend, Kathy,’ she said, cheering up. ‘You were lucky. When I asked for biscuits they said they hadn’t got any.’
‘Well, it’s knowing how to ask,’ I said and grinned at her. ‘The old man who serves there calls me sweetheart. I think he fancies me a bit.’
‘He’s old enough to be your granddad,’ Ally said but she was laughing, her good humour restored.
‘You look lovely,’ Ally declared as I fidgeted with my dress for the umpteenth time while getting ready for my date with Tom O’Rourke. ‘Besides, I thought you said this was just a drink to talk about old times and not important?’
‘Of