Chapter 11
As soon as Tilly got back to the Royal, her feet were planted firmly back on the ground.
She viewed the rota board on her first evening to discover that she was to be on Men’s Surgical.
She had heard stories of some of the sights she was about to see there, and the cheek she would have to put up with from the male patients would test her tolerance.
‘And then there’s the arrogance of the surgeons and doctors,’ Fliss said. ‘They think they’re God and the way they treat us nurses is appalling. They even talk to the ward sisters as if they were skivvies.’
‘Well, I suppose they are highly qualified people,’ Tilly suggested.
‘Qualified or not, they still have no right to talk to us that way. Respect goes both ways. We do a very important job too.’ Fliss suddenly stopped her tirade and nudged Tilly in the ribs.
‘Look out, talk of the devil!’ Fliss said. ‘Here comes a couple of them,’ she said, nodding at two white coats coming their way.
The two men walked past them, engaged in conversation.
‘This is going to be a fairly straightforward one for you, Jonathan. Hernias come two a penny. Usually reel off about three a week. You’ll soon get the hang of it,’ the older surgeon said.
The younger of two men seemed to be hanging on his every word, until his eyes drifted in the direction of Fliss and Tilly. He looked back at them as they walked on.
‘See the way he looked at us?’ Fliss said when they were out of earshot. ‘You want to be careful of their sort. The young surgeons are the worst. They hunt in packs. Find a girl who’s willing and pass her around like a shared cigarette. Don’t trust any of them.’
‘Is that the voice of experience speaking?’ Tilly asked.
‘I have been propositioned by a few of the doctors, yes, but I would only go out with a surgeon if he showed the colour of his money. Nothing less than champagne cocktails, a three-course meal and an invitation to an evening at the theatre in his family box would do for me.’ Fliss smirked.
‘My advice if one flirts with you, is to hold out for all you can get and find out if he’s got a car first. It’s an additional bonus if you get to ride in an MG.
Just don’t get in the back seat with him, that’s all.
Oh, I forgot, MGs don’t have back seats! ’
The two friends giggled and agreed to meet in the canteen at lunchtime to exchange stories of their new allocations. They parted and Tilly made her way to Men’s Surgical while Fliss went to face the trials of the Gynae ward, which she wasn’t looking forward to.
‘I have enough trouble with my own female plumbing system. I really don’t need to hear about the ins and outs of other women’s private parts,’ she said. ‘Besides, I’ve heard some real horror stories about the after-effects of contracting syphilis. I could do without a front-row seat!’
They didn’t get to meet at lunchtime except to wave at each other across the canteen, Tilly on her way out and Fliss on her way in.
Later that evening, they settled down to drink a cup of warming cocoa in the nurses’ lounge.
Curling up on the moth-eaten settee together, a shared blanket over their knees, they chatted about the events of the day.
‘Did you get to see any more of our extremely attractive young doctor? You know, the one we met in the corridor?’ Fliss asked.
‘No sign,’ Tilly replied. ‘Not that I would have noticed him, even if he was there. They kept my nose well and truly planted to the grindstone. Not a moment’s rest. Even when I went to the ladies’ room, I was grabbed as soon as I got out of the door and given another job to do.
Men’s Surgical is probably the busiest ward I have been on. What about you?’
‘Well, put it this way, if I published my experience today as “a day in the life of a nurse”, no young woman would ever take up the profession,’ Fliss replied.
The subsequent days followed a similar pattern with Tilly and Fliss only snatching a few hours before bedtime.
They tried to pack everything they needed to impart to each other into an increasingly narrow window of time.
Most evenings, they found themselves dozing off while the newly acquired radio in the common room droned on in the background.
Sometimes they woke in the early hours of the morning, when the blanket over them slipped off and an increasing chill crept between them.
On those evenings, they would take themselves off to their rooms, strip off and haul their weary bodies between cold sheets.
They were never so tired, though, that they forgot to hang up their clothes.
No amount of exhaustion could make them forget the sting of Matron’s tongue should they arrive on duty with rumpled uniforms. Much as they craved the comfort of their beds, it was not worth the punishment duties.
The scrubbing and disinfecting of men’s urinals or the flushing and cleaning of catheter tubing were the most hated jobs of all.
As for the odious manual disimpaction task, that made even Tilly and Fliss think twice about throwing their clothes on a chair and made them use the hangers instead.
Since arriving back at the hospital after the new year, Tilly had shared with Fliss her thoughts about seeking some male company.
‘So, what are you saying?’ Fliss asked. ‘You’d like my advice on how to catch a man?’
‘That’s not what I said,’ Tilly replied. ‘I just think it’s time I had some sort of romantic encounter. I’m twenty and never been kissed. Does that sound healthy to you? Here I am, a reasonably attractive young woman, looking for some fun and I’ve never even been asked out by anyone.’
‘Well, it’s time to remedy that,’ Fliss replied. ‘And you’ve come to the right person. Leave it with me and I’ll get on the case.’
The excitement in Fliss’s demeanour at the thought of orchestrating a romantic attachment was palpable.
‘Sounds like just my sort of challenge,’ she said.
A few days later, Tilly and Fliss were standing near the staff noticeboard in the nurses’ common room and Fliss beamed a huge smile.
‘Voila! The solution to your problem, my dear Tilly,’ she said, pointing at a flyer on the board.
Staff Social to be held on Feb 14th at the Esplanade Hotel with Bert Barrett and his Band.
8 p.m. until 11 p.m.
Tickets 5s- Buffet Supper and Bar
‘What are you looking at?’ Tilly asked, looking over Fliss’s shoulder.
‘A Valentine’s night social at the Royal Esplanade Hotel,’ Fliss replied. ‘At last, something to look forward to. We’re going.’
Word got around over the course of that day and there was a flurry of excitement among all the nurses. ‘Now, what are you going to wear?’ Fliss asked.
‘I don’t have a thing that’s suitable,’ Tilly said. ‘I didn’t exactly come with a suitcase full of dance dresses.’
‘Leave that up to me,’ Fliss replied. ‘I’m going home at the weekend. I’ll bring you a couple of mine to try on.’
Despite looking out for the young doctor every time she reported for duty, it was several days before Tilly encountered the young man again.
She was being instructed on how to set up the drugs trolley by a senior nurse called Hopkins when she spied the young doctor outside in the corridor talking to Matron about Mr Mather’s hernia procedure.
‘You must make sure that Mr Mather is on his feet as soon as possible, Matron,’ the young man said. ‘Don’t take any nonsense from him.’
‘I thought you knew me better than that, Mr Burrows,’ Matron replied. ‘I run a tight ship here. Nothing escapes my attention.’
So, his name is Burrows, Jonathan Burrows, Tilly thought.
When they moved slowly past with the drugs trolley, Tilly tried not to stare but she couldn’t help looking in his direction.
She noticed he had a distinct dimple in his chin and his eyes were hooded by dark brows.
A few strands escaped from his carefully groomed hair and lay between the creases on his forehead as he concentrated on the information Matron was imparting to him.
When Tilly and Hopkins entered the ward, she smiled to herself as the pace of the young man and Matron coincided neatly with that of the drugs trolley.
As they moved from bed to bed, Tilly tried to focus on what Nurse Hopkins was saying, while listening with half an ear to the gentle rise and fall of Mr Burrows’ voice. It was hypnotic.
‘Now, make sure that you double-check the list, the drug and the quantity to be given against the name of the patient,’ Hopkins droned. ‘We have quite a high turnover here in Men’s Surgical, and names and faces are just becoming familiar when they suddenly move on.’
They were still administering medication when Dr Burrows finished his round and bid everyone a good morning.
As he passed by, Tilly’s eyes moved involuntarily towards him.
She couldn’t be sure but she thought that his gaze seemed to flit across everyone else, but paused when he came to her face and there was a distinct smile that crept across his lips.
She smiled back. That’s interesting, Tilly thought.
She felt her neck flush and allowed herself to hope that he would look out for her the next time he was on the ward.