CHAPTER 21
Singapore
‘Dorothy! Dorothy, wake up!’ Clara’s voice stirred her from the depths of her sleep. Dorothy blinked open her eyes, raised her head from the table where it had been resting and rubbed the crick in her neck.
‘You’d better not let Nurse Jamieson catch you napping in your break!
’ Her friend grinned down at her. ‘I’m sure she’d have something to say about it “contravening the Nurse’s Code of Conduct” or something!
’ This last part she delivered in a perfect impression of their boss’s lilting Edinburgh accent, making Dorothy smile.
They were a month into their nursing training and, along with every other trainee, were rather in awe of the formidable matron.
She checked her watch and sighed in relief; ten more minutes before she was due back on shift. She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. ‘I don’t know what happened, I only closed my eyes for a moment.’
‘Always the way! Everything alright? You look a bit peaky today.’ Clara’s eyes filled with concern as she looked at her friend. She poured them each a cup of tea from the large silver urn in the corner, then sat down opposite her.
‘I didn’t sleep very well last night; I’m worried about Mummy. She’s having her surgery this afternoon.’
Clara sighed and gave a sympathetic smile.
‘Ah, yes of course. But I’m sure everything will be fine.
Your mother is made of stern stuff and she’ll make a full recovery, I’m sure of it!
’ She added a spoonful of sugar to her friend’s cup and stirred it.
‘I know you don’t normally take sugar, but I think you could probably do with some today. ’
Dorothy smiled back, glad of her friend’s support.
The shifts at the hospital were rigorous and she was feeling exhausted from the long days.
But despite the physical and emotional demands, she was thoroughly enjoying having an occupation.
She loved putting her brain to use in the classroom and the hands-on learning, whether administering medications, caring for critically ill patients or assisting in surgery, made her feel useful.
And although they were both tired most of the time and often covered in various bodily fluids, Dorothy had to admit that spending time with Clara was definitely a highlight.
‘How is it going with Cyril?’ Dorothy asked, keen to talk to lighten the mood.
‘Oh, he’s a sweet thing.’ Clara smiled and gave a little shrug. ‘I think he’s going to propose soon.’ She lifted her teacup to her lips and sipped the steaming drink thoughtfully.
‘And?’ Dorothy’s eyes widened with excitement. ‘What will you say? Do you want to marry him?’
Clara looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I think so,’ she began noncommittally, ‘but the trouble is, Cyril’s so awfully traditional and proper about things.
’ Clara rolled her eyes. ‘The most I’ve got out of him was a mild-mannered kiss after Hugo Dalvey’s birthday party at the club last month, after he’d had a bit too much to drink.
I was delighted that he was finally getting down to business, but then he stopped himself and kept apologising all the way home. It was so disappointing.’
Dorothy smiled at her friend and shook her head fondly.
‘That side of things is important to me, you see,’ Clara continued.
‘But I’ve no idea how it’s going to be with Cyril, if he’s going to be any good at it, I mean.
I’d just like one night with him to find out.
Is that too much to ask? Let’s face it, you wouldn’t buy a new car without taking it for a test drive first, would you? ’
‘Oh Clara! You are terrible!’ Dorothy burst out laughing, her worries drifting away for a moment. Clara shrugged and started giggling, too.
Their jollity was cut short by the appearance of Sister Jamieson’s face around the door. Her mouth was as tight as her brown curls, and her expression severe and unsmiling.
‘Ladies, may I remind you that this is a hospital and not a music hall. You will kindly maintain decorum at all times.’ They both nodded, looking suitably contrite.
‘Nurse Llewellyn,’ she continued, checking her fob watch, ‘I believe you were due back on shift two minutes ago.’ Dorothy nodded again obediently and instantly rose from her seat.
‘And as for you, Nurse Davies, you don’t have a break for another hour.
You will return to the ward immediately. ’
Dorothy couldn’t help but smile to herself as she left the room, feeling like they’d been caught out like a pair of naughty schoolgirls. She felt lighter after talking to Clara and ready to get back to work.
‘Nurse Llewellyn?’ Dorothy heard her name as she walked along the corridor. She turned back in the direction of the voice, worrying that she was about to get another telling off, but was relieved to see the tall, willowy figure of Dr Archie approaching.
‘I’m glad I caught you,’ he began, with an easy smile. ‘I understand your mother is in with us for her surgery this afternoon?’
Dorothy felt a lump form in her throat but managed a nod in reply.
‘Well, I had a word with Sister Robertson, who’ll be on duty this afternoon, and arranged for you to go and see your mother before she goes in.
’ He looked at his watch. ‘Pop along to ward five just before three and you can have a few minutes with her.’ He seemed to sense her anxiety.
‘And try not to worry; the operation has a good chance of success. Mr Thompson-Wright is a first-rate surgeon, we’re lucky to have him here.
Try to stay positive.’ He put a gentle hand on Dorothy’s arm and, with a friendly wink, he continued on his way along the corridor.
Dorothy was overcome by his kindness. The sisters at the hospital were a fierce bunch, regularly reprimanding the trainee nurses and setting such impossibly high standards.
But Dr Archie was always so kind and encouraging, so human, and Dorothy was glad that he was the supervisor for her unit.
With his ready smile and bright eyes, he was handsome in an ‘older man’ kind of way, and a couple of the younger trainees admitted to having crushes on him.
Dorothy had heard on the grapevine that he was a widower, his wife having died in childbirth a decade earlier.
The poor man had lost both his wife and his child in one bitter blow.
But he had not let his grief consume him.
Instead, he had thrown himself into his work and, with his easy-going, friendly manner, managed to spread a little happiness and comfort wherever he went.
Dorothy admired and appreciated him for that.
It was late when Dorothy arrived home after her shift that evening.
They had needed all hands on deck when an ambulance had brought in casualties from a motorcar accident.
She and Clara had both volunteered to stay on and they had ended up working an extra two hours after their shift ended.
Clara had given her a lift home, dropping her at the corner of York Road with a weary ‘See you tomorrow!’
The sun was setting on a warm, balmy evening as Dorothy made her way home along the tree-lined avenue.
A chorus of tree frogs accompanied the sound of her weary footsteps as she dragged her aching limbs the short distance to the house.
She was ready for dinner, a hot bath and bed.
It had been a day of ups and downs and she felt physically and emotionally drained.
It was a huge relief that her mother’s surgery had gone smoothly and the doctor had been optimistic for a full recovery.
Dorothy was grateful to Dr Archie that he had arranged some time off to visit and that she had been there to support her father.
The sight of him, sitting alone in the waiting room, anxiously awaiting news of his wife’s operation, had made her heart ache.
It had taken all her last remaining energy to smile and reassure him that everything would be alright.
The heady scent of jasmine filled the air as she turned into the driveway and she breathed it in deeply.
A sudden movement up ahead made her pause.
She heard voices as the front door opened, revealing Douglas bidding farewell to a visitor.
The person had their back to her and it wasn’t until they turned around to make their way down the drive that she recognised the dark figure of Maria Pemberton.
Dorothy’s stomach sank. What was that woman doing here?
She wasn’t an idiot, she knew that Douglas still saw her regularly, but how dare she come here, to her house?
Dorothy wished she could make herself disappear, the last thing she wanted was to have to speak to her.
But there was nowhere to hide. There was nothing for it but to continue walking up the drive and hold her head up high.
After all, she was not the one doing anything wrong.
Dressed in a long, loose-fitting blue gown Maria was her usual effortlessly-stylish self.
As the women approached each other, Dorothy was about to give her customary civil nod when a light breeze caught the fabric of Maria’s dress.
It swept across to one side in such a way that there was no escaping the sight of her protruding belly.
Dorothy gasped. ‘You’re pregnant!’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She looked up at Maria and, instead of the usual perfect make-up, her face was red and blotchy with tears.
The Italian’s nostrils flared slightly as she breathed in sharply. She looked Dorothy up and down and, with a curt nod, uttered an abrupt ‘Si!’ Then she brushed past Dorothy and continued down the driveway and onto the main road without a backward glance.
Dorothy’s mind raced. Her husband’s lover was pregnant. And she had come here, to her husband’s house, and left visibly upset. Why? Dorothy added two plus two and came up with a very convincing four.