A Wartime Nurse (18 page)
Authors: Maggie Hope
Tags: #Nurses, #World War; 1939-1945, #Sagas, #War & Military, #Fiction
Simon and Anne walked with him to the door, their arms entwined. It was as though they couldn’t bear not to be touching.
‘I hope we see you again soon,’ said Anne. ‘After the war, eh? It won’t be long now.’
Not long now . . . Ken opened the car door and got in. ‘Not long now’ was the phrase on everyone’s lips. He only hoped this German push in the Ardennes was soon crushed, otherwise it would delay the ending of the war yet again.
He was about to turn his car round when he thought again of Staff Nurse Wearmouth. He hadn’t really promised to do it but he would go into Winton Colliery and pick her up. No doubt she would be glad of a lift. And he needed to be with someone so that he couldn’t brood about Julie. What with hearing about yet another soldier killed at Arnhem and then seeing Simon and Anne together . . . He frowned, shying away from his dismal thoughts. Best think of something else. What had he said to upset the Staff Nurse so this morning? Nothing but the truth.
Parking his car at the end of West Row, he sat for a moment, feeling a bit of a fool for he wasn’t sure which of the houses was occupied by the Wearmouths. Of course he could knock on the door of the end house and ask, that was the obvious thing to do. He was about to get out of the car and do just that when he heard a woman’s footsteps coming down the back street. He would ask her.
But whoever was approaching was walking rapidly in spite of the blackout and suddenly there was a dull bump and something fell to the ground, and Ken jumped out of the car as whoever it was gave a startled scream of pain. Taking his flashlight from the dashboard, he jumped out and shone it on the woman and saw it was Theda.
‘What have you done?’
She fell silent and tried to stop hopping about. But she couldn’t keep still, the pain was so sharp. Backing away, she limped to her gate.
‘Wait! Let me help you,’ said Ken, and putting his arm around her, supported her up the yard. Opening the back door without knocking, he helped her into the kitchen.
‘What on earth is the matter?’
Bea started up from her chair by the range, looking alarmed.
‘Nothing, it’s nothing . . . just stumbled and spilled some acid from the accumulator batteries on my feet.’
Ken practically carried Theda over to the settee and sat her down, lifting her legs and swinging them round and up on to the cushion.
‘By, our Theda, you want to be more careful! You know what that stuff’s like—’ Bea began, but stopped in mid-flow when Ken interrupted.
‘Get me some water, will you, Mrs Wearmouth? The sooner we can wash the stuff away the better.’
Bea bustled away to the tap in the pantry, coming back with an enamel dish of water. Meanwhile Ken was easing off Theda’s shoes and cutting away her lisle stockings.
‘I can do it myself,’ she protested. ‘Really, it’s not too bad. It was just the shock at first, I’m all right now.’
Ken was sluicing her feet and one leg with water and the pain eased as if by magic. The relief made Theda lie back against the hard horsehair of the couch end with a sigh.
‘Yes, well of course you can,’ he said, glancing up at her white face. ‘But I’m here, aren’t I? Does that feel better?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said fervently.
‘Now just lie still. It’s not so bad but you’ve had a shock. Have you any bicarbonate of soda in the house? Clean white cloth? Bandages?’
‘Yes, of course. Theda
is
a nurse.’ Bea took the first-aid box out of the press and made up a solution on his instructions.
is
a nurse.’ Bea took the first-aid box out of the press and made up a solution on his instructions.
‘Look now, it’s not so bad,’ said Ken. ‘Mainly first degree, though some blistering. And if we exclude the air—’
He laid the makeshift dressing soaked in the solution across the reddened skin and bandaged it loosely. His hands were so gentle yet so capable, strong hands with the square nails of a surgeon. ‘There now, you’ll be back walking the wards in no time. It won’t even leave a scar.’
‘Tomorrow, I hope. It’s Sister’s day off, I’ll have to go in. Anyway, it’s not half so bad as I thought it was. It feels fine now.’
‘Hmm. Now you’re talking stupidly.’
Theda bridled. His tone was so cool, his blue eyes level and expressionless – quite different from when he had been attending to her feet. He seemed a different man.
‘You said yourself the burns are nothing. I’m sure if I have a good night’s rest and keep them covered, they’ll be fine,’ she said defensively.
‘Eeh, our Theda, don’t talk so soft!’ her mother put in, and Theda blinked. She had almost forgotten Bea was there. ‘Take no notice of her, Doctor. Of course she won’t be coming in tomorrow. You can tell Matron, can’t you?’
Theda sighed. Maybe she was being a bit of a fool, acting as though the hospital couldn’t do without her. No one was indispensable. In any case, she felt tired to death. Shock, she supposed. And her feet, the left one in particular, felt like they were on fire again in spite of the dressing.
‘Yes, of course.’ Ken rose to his feet and smiled at Bea. ‘Well, I’d better be going. I just came because I thought that Theda would like a lift. Lucky I did, really. I was able to see to her when she stumbled.’
I wouldn’t have stumbled if you hadn’t been there, thought Theda. She felt thoroughly out of sorts, angry at the world. ‘If I don’t go in, I’ll have to have a doctor’s note,’ she said grumpily. ‘It’s the rule.’
‘Oh, I’ll explain to Matron,’ Ken said easily. He stood looking down at her as he drew on his gloves, a faint smile on his lips – as though he were humouring a child, she thought.
‘Won’t you stay and have a cup of tea, Doctor? Or perhaps something stronger?’
Theda’s heart sank. The only drink her mother had in the house was home-made ginger wine and half a bottle of cheap rum which she used to flavour the Christmas pudding. It was the only alcohol they ever had in the house, though they were not as strongly Methodist as some of the miners’ families. But Ken was declining the invitation, thank goodness.
‘No, thank you very much, Mrs Wearmouth. I must get back,’ he answered, and headed for the door. Before he got there it opened and Clara came in, her hair done up in a turban formed from her head scarf and her cheeks red with cold. Just behind her were Chuck and his girlfriend Norma.
Clara stopped just inside the door with her brother and his girl crowding in behind her. ‘Oh! For a minute there I thought I was in the wrong house.’
‘This is Doctor Collins from the hospital, he just came to offer our Theda a lift in. He was visiting his uncle, Mr Cornish,’ explained Bea. ‘Doctor, my younger daughter, Clara. And my son Charles and his friend Norma.’
‘How do you do? I’m sorry I have to go, I’m late as it is.’
The trio stood aside as Ken made his exit, rather hurriedly, Theda thought. He probably felt overwhelmed by the number of Wearmouths.
‘Well, our Theda,’ said Chuck, as he came into the kitchen and stood before the fire, warming his back. ‘How long had this been going on?’
‘Chuck! Behave yourself!’ cried his mother. ‘You know it’s not five minutes since—’ She stopped abruptly, horrified that she might say something that would bring all that unhappiness back to Theda. It didn’t matter. The silence was uncomfortable. They all knew what the end of her sentence was going to be.
Not five minutes since Alan died, though Theda, and lay back on the cushion and closed her eyes for a moment.
‘Aye, well, it’s the first time a doctor has bothered to fetch her home, isn’t it?’ said the irrepressible Chuck.
‘Just you take the brush and shovel and get out there and clear up the mess,’ Bea said sharply. ‘Theda fell and dropped the accumulators and burnt her feet. And now I won’t be able to listen to Tommy Handley neither. I was looking forward to it an’ all.’
She looked at Theda, suddenly realising what she had said. ‘Eeh, pet, I didn’t mean – well, it doesn’t matter about the wireless, so long as you aren’t burnt so badly.’
‘No, I know what you meant, Mam,’ she answered.
When Chuck came back he triumphantly bore a whole accumulator which looked none the worse for wear, the acid level seeming normal. The other was chipped and spoiled, its acid level well down, though even it might be salvageable, he pronounced.
‘I’ll take it in the morning,’ he said. ‘When I come in from fore shift.’ He wired the accumulator into the wireless and switched it on while Bea made tea and toast with cheese and onion melted together in the oven. ‘American cheese,’ she said, her voice full of disgust. ‘I don’t know what the Ministry of Food is thinking of, saying the miners need extra protein, whatever that is, and then giving them four ounces of this hard rubbery stuff and telling them it’s cheese. You could sole your shoes with it, you could. There’s nowt else to do with it but melt it.’
The family ate it, however; four years of war following on the harder years of the depression had instilled in them the habit of never wasting food. Even Theda ate half a slice, though it lay like lead on her stomach after. It wasn’t long before she went to bed, wincing a little as she put her feet to the floor and walked to the staircase.
‘That’s right, pet,’ said Bea, ‘you go up. You’ll likely feel a lot better the morn.’
‘I’ll come up too, so I don’t disturb you later on,’ said Clara.
‘Goodnight then.’ Theda climbed the stairs slowly and carefully, undressed and thankfully got under the bedclothes. She lay on her side, so that the weight of the blankets did not press on her burns, or rather the one burn in particular which lay across her instep and was the only one to have blistered.
She had wanted to talk to Clara but didn’t feel up to it now. All she wanted was sleep. Another day coming, she thought.
‘Theda?’ Clara had come into the room and was preparing for bed. She climbed in beside her sister. ‘Theda?’ she said again, though softly. Evidently she wanted to talk. But Theda lay with her back to her sister, her eyes tightly closed, and after a moment Clara too turned away and appeared to be sleeping.
The wireless was still on downstairs, Theda could hear her mother’s chuckles as she listened to Tommy Handley on the Forces Network and Chuck laughing loud and clear. Her mother hushed him, reminding him the girls were trying to sleep.
Her mind wandered to Major Collins. He was a kind man, even though at times he seemed cold. Sometimes she felt an affinity with him, which was silly. She didn’t know anything about him; she didn’t even know if he had a girlfriend or ever had had one. But it had been nice, just for a second or two, to lean on him.
Chapter Fifteen
Next morning Theda woke feeling much better than she had expected to, just a faint throbbing from her foot. Clara had already gone to work, and Theda turned over in the big brass bed and stretched out luxuriously. Maybe she should go in, she thought, there was practically nothing wrong with her, and after all, Sister was off today. Swinging her legs out of bed, she pulled on a robe which Bea had crocheted for her last Christmas out of scraps of wool unravelled from old jumpers. Wincing only a little as she walked stiffly to the head of the stairs, she went down to the kitchen.
‘By, lass, you won’t take a bit of rest when you get the chance, will you?’ demanded her mother. ‘I was just about to bring you up a nice cup of tea and a slice of toast and dripping. How are your feet, anyroad?’
‘Oh, practically back to normal,’ said Theda. ‘I might go in to work this afternoon, I feel a fraud.’
‘Hmm. That bicarbonate of soda must have worked wonders then, I’m sure,’ said Bea, sounding sceptical. ‘Here, sit down and have your breakfast now I’ve made it for you. Then we’ll have a look and see. Did you sleep all right?’
‘Fine.’
Theda had lain awake until about one o’clock as it happened, and then, when she heard her father and Chuck going down to get ready for their shift, she had given in and followed them, taking a cup of tea from their pot and swallowing a couple of Anadins with it.
‘Mind, you want to be a bit careful with them batteries, I thought you had more sense,’ Matt had growled at her, but she could see he was concerned.
‘Aye, you might have burned a hole in the pavement,’ grinned Chuck.
Back in bed, warmed by the hot tea and a short sit by the fire, she had soon fallen asleep.
‘Cold tea you want on that,’ her mother pronounced as she inspected Theda’s feet after she had removed the bandages. She firmly believed that her own remedies were quite as good as anything the medical profession came up with.
Tannic acid, thought Theda. This time she’s probably right. Her right foot was a bit angry-looking but the redness had faded a little and was sore rather than painful. There were two blisters on her left instep, about the size of a sixpenny piece. All they needed was a sterile dressing. But it would please Bea to apply a dressing of cold tea.
‘Go on then,’ she said.
After dinner, fortified by another couple of Anadins, Theda insisted on going in to work. It was one o’clock when she knocked on the door of Matron’s office. She had gone in on the bus, so her foot wasn’t aching too much.
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