Chapter
16
It must be love.
. “Pat have you heard from Jamie
yet?”
I had bumped into Ginny outside the
dining room.
“Yes thank goodness and at last I
have an address. Let’s meet up in the
Rec when we come off duty and we can catch up.”
Ginny was her usual understanding
self when I told her later of the harrowing meeting with Andrew and the angst
at not being able to meet Jamie at the bus station.
“What rotten luck to be Relief Baby
Nurse – the one duty when you can’t be off in the morning. Was he upset?”
“He said he had been but soon
realised it must have been impossible for me to get off duty. It’s great to see you Ginny. Most of our set are scattered all over the
place – either on nights or at Baby
Hospital …“
“Or Fever Hospital,”
said Ginny, “including me. I’m off
tomorrow for a month.”
I groaned – life was going to be
quite lonely for the next month or so. We
all had to do a month at St Mary’s Baby
Hospital and also Monsall Fever
Hospital.
“What’s the betting that as you
come back from Monsall I’ll be next?”
Letters became all important – from family, friends and patients but the
reason I dashed to the mail pigeon holes twice a day was to see if I could spot
that bold looped handwriting that was Jamie’s. I wrote to tell him what had
happened with Andrew and anything else I thought might interest him. Fortunately - on duty - my six babies kept me
happily occupied.
It did little for my peace of mind to hear he had missed his footing on
a climb called Bad Step Alasdair but he assured me the rope had held and he was
fine. I was touched when he asked me to send
him one of my lipsticks - they were smaller in those days and he could use it
to stub down the tobacco in his occasional pipe. Three times I sent one and three times it was
returned by the Post Office so we had to abandon the idea.
Jamie left his mac in a car that
had been giving him a lift. There was an
address in the pocket and the driver kindly returned it and told him ‘Look
after that girl friend of yours.’
Most of my free time was spent writing to Jamie or thinking about
him. The word ‘soon’ was for ever in my
mind like a mantra. It was the word we
used to comfort a child who wanted its mother or wanted to go home.
A welcome diversion was when the Student Nurses’s Association asked me
to put on a play for Christmas so casting and rehearsals kept me busy. Then the Miller family – parents of my little
Jewish patient – David - invited me for a week-end trip to St Anne’s. It was fun showing them the Convalescent Home
where I had started my training. St Anne’s
was agog that week-end as the very famous film star Margaret Lockwood was there
and we were all thrilled to catch a glimpse of her - a raven haired beauty with
her signature central parting, her lovely figure encased in glamorous white
lace. The children and I romped up and
down the sand hills and we had the usual Hector trauma driving back to Manchester with no
headlamps.
As I had suspected I was to be next
to do a stint at Monsall. I planned to
do General Nursing after Sick Children so it would be useful experience in
dealing with adult patients. It
certainly was an eye opener.
Oh joy! A letter saying that Jamie planned to return
towards the end of August. Yippee!
As I arrived at Monsall Ginny was
leaving but there was a letter and chocolates from Jamie. He would be with me soon; I hoped he would
find his way to this unfamiliar locality.
After my first day I decided I hated it.
There was some horrible language on the wards which themselves seemed
grimy in comparison with our own pristine ones at Pen.
The Fever Nurses were used to this
reaction from the Children’s Nurses and did their best to make us welcome and
helped us to cope with the very different circumstances. Generally they treated
us with kid gloves. Soon we settled in
and things began to improve but one morning I was asked to bathe a new admission
- a man with erysipelas. As I pulled the
screens around him I noticed he was very dark, extremely hairy and I felt
uncomfortable under his glare. With
shaky hands I started to remove the bedclothes.
He lurched forward, grasped my hand and leered at me. I wrenched my hand away and fled to the
sluice. I felt an idiot but no way was I
going back behind those screens.
Staff Nurse followed me into the
sluice.
“Don’t worry love – we get all
sorts on this ward.’
I wasn’t asked to bathe a man again.
It was interesting seeing new
diseases and learning about barrier nursing but it made me realise how lucky I
was to be at such an excellent training school as Pendlebury.
One night on the Women’s Ward there was a sweet grey-haired old lady
with long plaits twined round her head.
We weren’t busy so remembering how Gran used to love me to brush her
hair I asked her if she would like me to brush hers. She nodded, and as I let down her hair I
realised with horror that it was alive.
With shaking hands I excused myself and went to report to Sister. I was horrified and angry that this could
happen. Of course on admission at Pen every
child had their heads examined for nits and if they did have them we treated
them daily until their heads were clean; it was a morning ritual so there was no
chance of cross infection. Thank Heaven
I hadn’t listened to the Staff Nurse at St Anne’s who tried to persuade us all
to do Fevers instead of Sick Children.
At this time there was a lot of
polio or infantile paralysis as it was also known. It was a viral infection of the nervous
system and patients were treated by being put in an iron lung. The American President FDR Roosevelt
developed polio in the early 1920’s and spent the rest of his life in a
wheelchair. One night we got this pretty
young woman admitted with suspected polio.
She was very distressed as she had twin babies and naturally didn’t want
to be separated from them. The doctor
told her quite firmly that she was very ill indeed and naturally she became
more distressed. I stayed with her as
long as possible trying my best to comfort her.
I really believed she would get better.
I was totally shocked the next morning to be told she had died during
the night. All part of one’s nursing
experience and I concluded that I didn’t want to do Fever Training and wondered
if I really wanted to do my General. I
felt very fortunate to be nursing sick children.
One of the younger doctors was very
attentive and asked me for a game of tennis but I didn’t want any complications
so politely refused.
At last a letter came from Jamie to say he was arriving in Rossendale
that day. I sent a telegram to Mum to
ask her to get Jamie to ring which he did at 11.30pm and we arranged he would
come here for my evening off.
Next day was a beautiful day and I
had an ambulance trip to Knutsford to pick up a patient. Off duty at 5pm and there was my darling
sitting in the waiting room. It was
Heaven to be in his arms again, to smell his fresh open air smell and feel his
tweedy jacket against my cheek. Only the
lure of the open air could tempt us from that dingy waiting room. We went to a place incredibly named Bogart
Hole Clough – a steep valley with lots of trees and beautiful bird song. We walked dreamily and ended up in Manchester at the Blue
Angel for a meal. Back at the hospital
we parted- but only for a day.
I asked Matron if I could be off duty in the evening so I could go home
with Jamie and she agreed. It was always
a given at my own hospital- that you would have the evening off before your
day’s leave. Later on we started shifts
and could finish at lunch time, have the next day off and return at lunch time
the following day- two nights at home which were much appreciated.
I phoned the Millers and told them
I couldn’t see them this week and they said to bring Jamie next time. Young David was endlessly playing his new record
‘Sparkey’s Magic Piano.’ I couldn’t get
the tune out of my head: ‘I’ll play anything you want me to play…from now
on.’ Sung with a jangly, twangy voice
that sounded like Cher with croup.
Jamie picked me up and we went home
on the bus. Only Gran was in so we made
supper and she went to bed. As each
member of the family came in we would make them a drink and then sit and chat
until the penny dropped and they would retire to bed. We were allowed to stay up to do the washing
up and sometimes we did. Our time together was precious and brief. We kept on the go so as not to fret about the
inevitable separations.
Down we waltzed to the aunts and
had coffee with Maddie and Paul (Maddie told me Paul could tell if a girl had
slept with anybody just by looking at them.
Well I hope he got it right about me!)
Maddie’s friend from Art
School was staying – the
Vamp as I called her. Back home again Gran
had left lunch for us and we took a bus over the moors towards Burnley. Between
Toll Bar and Townley
Park I remembered there
was a farm up on a hill which served delicious teas. It was a long way from the road but there was
a helpful white painted sign on the roof announcing ‘TEAS’. At last In spotted the farm and we had a
leisurely climb up for tea. It
certainlty live up to its reputation.
Walking back replete, we came upon theTownley Arms and spent an hour
playing cricket and drinking cider. There was no sign of a bus so we started
the long 6 mile walk home. When we came
to the wide corner where there is a sort of natural balcony overlooking the wildest, dourest part of the moors - no
Lakeland beauty here – Jamie put his hands on my shoulders and looking
earnestly at me said,
“Patricia Dixon Barnes will you marry
me?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I screeched,
whilst the pipits and the plovers seemed to join in with a joyful chorus.
It was a surprise – he was starting his final year with quite a few
debts, His parents were working class with three sons to educate – two at Oxford - and he had no
visible means of support until he started earning. I still had18 months to do but was earning –
if only a pittance. It amazes me –
looking back - on what a great time we had on so little cash.
“Pat I think we should keep it a
secret for the time being.” I wanted to
shout it from the house tops but promised to be discreet.
We started the long trek home. It was mainly down hill so we would run until
Ifell over and Jamie had to pick me up and slow me down. Miraculously we finally made it.
Everybody was there including the
Vamp who was puzzled by the hairy ties all the men were wearing.
“Is it some sort of Secret Society”
she asked?
“No“said Evan. “they’re presents
our Pat brought back from’t Lake District!”
I felt Mum staring at me; she could
tell I was very excited but I gave nothing away by mouth and kept my word.
When everyone had gone and we were
metaphorically doing the washing up Jamie kissed me and I fainted
When I came round Jamie wanted to
get Mum but there was a simple explanation.
My face was quite a bit smaller than Jamie’s and he managed to totally
block my airways. . I wasn’t behaving
like a Victorian Miss and it wasn’t the kiss of death.
We said goodbye in Manchester the next day. It had been a wonderful couple of days
The future looked bright - but it was a mirage.
