An Imperfect
Life. Chapter 19
New Faces and Places.
“You’ve been dumped.
Now you know what it feels like.
Get over it!”
and our set halved with nurses leaving, unable to withstand
the stresses and strains of
Just lately I had
been working on the wards with Kate – a member of our set. She
Kate told me about Plas y Nant - a Christian Fellowship
House in North Wales .
Carnarvan – an area of mountains,
llyns, (lakes) waterfalls and glens. Plas itself was a rambling old
building in grounds that begged to be explored.
When we arrived there the gardens
were fragrant with the smell of pine and as we crunched our way up the drive we
had a fantastic view of a mountain – the Elephant and Llyn Quellyn.
When we first saw the Elephant –
you can guess its shape – it was diamond encrusted as a result of all the minute slivers of ice scattered over it. Because of the time of year Kate and I were the only
guests, with an influx of walkers at the week-end. This didn’t trouble us as we both needed respite
and
I wore Peggy Sage nail varnish a pale pink natural shade.
“Pat I’m a bit worried Lena
may be shocked at your nail varnish.”
“Kate if she objects I promise I’ll
remove it.”We couldn’t wear it on duty of course but since my break up with Jamie a bit of steel had entered my
soul and I no longer felt obliged to try desperately to please everybody.
rowdy ones in the larger parties. We were privileged to have her undivided attention during the week
and I certainly found peace and tranquillity. One of the charming customs of the house - when it was
occupied by men and women – was the evening ritual when the men would gather outside the
conservatory and serenade the women with the song ‘Good Night Ladies.’ I can’t remember what we
sang back to them and neither can Kate. Our memories are slightly conflicting because I believed
we had wandered over the Pyg track – just the two of us – in fog, but Kate said we climbed
daring and was quite dangerous. We certainly climbed at least two mountains, read lots of poetry and
enjoyed Knickerbocker Glories in Caernarfon.
there would be team leaders and graded walks and climbs. This was our final year of training, with
more responsibility and lots of studying so we decided to repeat the experiment in the summer and
booked then and there.
There were to be a lot of changes in the next few months - some I was
aware of and some came as a surprise. One thing was certain, the
remaining members of our set would take their finals in October and then
leave. I would have to stick it out for another six months when I
would be old enough to take State Finals. And then what?
When I got back from Plas it was my birthday –
twenty and still unmarried - unlike Mum and Maddie. I still went out with boys but imagined I
would have platonic relationships for the rest of my life. I wasn’t
going to mope - just be realistic.
Maddie told me that Liam- Jamie’s elder brother had met a girl at Yale and they were to be married. She was Jewish and her family had escaped fromAustria
before the war. So much for Jamie’s father’s dream of his sons
marrying nice Scottish girls.
Maddie told me that Liam- Jamie’s elder brother had met a girl at Yale and they were to be married. She was Jewish and her family had escaped from
Maddie dropped the bombshell that
Paul - her husband - had got a job in Africa
and the three of them were going out there to live. We were all
going to miss them – especially Mum, Dad and the Aunts.
Evan had got a serious girl friend and Gran was in the States again so Mum and Dad were having the time of their lives with just themselves to think about. I knew I would never live at home again but felt a bit rudderless. Still I had another year before I had to decide what to do next. I saw much less of Ginny as she was fully occupied with her fiancée.
Kate and I were very thankful when August came along and we set off for Plas once more. It was very different in the summer - beautiful gardens, crystal clear views and a great buzz of excitement as people settled in and started getting to know one another. There was a lovely feeling of fellowship and we were excited to hear there was a German Party – it was 1950 and the war was still fresh in our memories. I spotted them in the garden bunched together and looking a bit glowery. I cursed the fact that I didn’t know any German except ‘Ich liebe dich’ – the song ‘I love you.’ I went up to a young man with a thunder cloud on his brow and said ‘Ich’ pointing at myself, ‘Pat.’ Then I pointed at him questioningly and said ‘Dich?’- meaning I’m Pat who are you. I now think this is possibly an intimate way of speaking rather like the French tu- toying but I had no idea then. .He beamed from ear to ear and told me, in excellent English that he was Gerhard and - still with a happy smile introduced me to the rest of the party. I’m not sure what he said to them but from then on there was no stand - offishness and Germans and Brits alike spent the next week walking, eating, laughing and praying together. They had all been children during the war - like us, and we were able to rid ourselves of the belief that all Germans were wicked. We giggled when the boys stood outside serenading us and sang ‘Merrily we yoll along.’ instead of ’roll along.’ There was a lot of joshing and teasing. One of the Brits was Johnnie - a wag- and the last night he sang a song about all the characters which ended up with a chorus of ‘Pat and Gerhard’ to every body’s amusement and Gerhard demanded a copy. It was the sort of holiday where one felt one loved everybody but it was all light-hearted - nothing serious.
Back in hospital the rest of my set were madly swotting for the Finals in October and I was thankful that I had another six months breathing space. October marked the end of the three years I had been training
Evan had got a serious girl friend and Gran was in the States again so Mum and Dad were having the time of their lives with just themselves to think about. I knew I would never live at home again but felt a bit rudderless. Still I had another year before I had to decide what to do next. I saw much less of Ginny as she was fully occupied with her fiancée.
Kate and I were very thankful when August came along and we set off for Plas once more. It was very different in the summer - beautiful gardens, crystal clear views and a great buzz of excitement as people settled in and started getting to know one another. There was a lovely feeling of fellowship and we were excited to hear there was a German Party – it was 1950 and the war was still fresh in our memories. I spotted them in the garden bunched together and looking a bit glowery. I cursed the fact that I didn’t know any German except ‘Ich liebe dich’ – the song ‘I love you.’ I went up to a young man with a thunder cloud on his brow and said ‘Ich’ pointing at myself, ‘Pat.’ Then I pointed at him questioningly and said ‘Dich?’- meaning I’m Pat who are you. I now think this is possibly an intimate way of speaking rather like the French tu- toying but I had no idea then. .He beamed from ear to ear and told me, in excellent English that he was Gerhard and - still with a happy smile introduced me to the rest of the party. I’m not sure what he said to them but from then on there was no stand - offishness and Germans and Brits alike spent the next week walking, eating, laughing and praying together. They had all been children during the war - like us, and we were able to rid ourselves of the belief that all Germans were wicked. We giggled when the boys stood outside serenading us and sang ‘Merrily we yoll along.’ instead of ’roll along.’ There was a lot of joshing and teasing. One of the Brits was Johnnie - a wag- and the last night he sang a song about all the characters which ended up with a chorus of ‘Pat and Gerhard’ to every body’s amusement and Gerhard demanded a copy. It was the sort of holiday where one felt one loved everybody but it was all light-hearted - nothing serious.
Back in hospital the rest of my set were madly swotting for the Finals in October and I was thankful that I had another six months breathing space. October marked the end of the three years I had been training
Just as I thought I was going to be friendless along came
Vanessa. She had joined the hospital as a second year nurse, having
done her general nursing and so was already State Registered. I
first noticed her standing languidly by the tea urn in the dining
room. She was tall and willowy with blonde hair and only needed a
couple of borzoi to be a dead ringer for Diana the Huntress. I didn’t get to know her until our final year
when Home Sister said as we were both senior nurses we would have the privilege
of sharing the bedroom in the Admin Block. This room was special; up
in the eaves of the main hospital, above sick bay and above the doctor’s
quarters - so remote it wasn’t regularly inspected. And it had a
fire-escape and a fireplace. It was a cold October and Vanessa thought it would
be fun to have a fire so we would have the luxury of dressing and undressing in
the warm. But how on earth would
we get the coal up two floors I wondered. Next thing I knew I
was following Vanessa down the main corridor; blessing the fact that she was so
tall and had been given the longest cloak in the hospital. It
reached the floor and completely hid the two buckets of coal she was
carrying. We kept that fire going for
three days until Home Sister happened to notice smoke coming from a normally
dormant chimney. She was a great sport and after playing hell with
us made us promise we would never do it again. Thankfully, she
didn’t tell Matron, (thanks Sister Walters).
Not all the sisters were so kind and understanding. Vanessa - who the medical staff nick-named Snake-Hips was made very unhappy by two bitchy Sisters whose ward she was on and I had a problem with one of the Night Sisters. I was sad that Vanessa only told me about this in later years. .Being so isolated we didn’t get the usual wake up call from the maids and had to rely on an ancient alarm clock. It was very large and had two brass bells attached. One morning it didn’t go off and I was late for breakfast. This particular Night Sister was big and bouncy and somewhat of an exhibitionist. She glared at me through her dark framed spectacles got hold of the alarm clock, managed to get it ringing and to prove her point went striding down the main corridor swinging the pealing clock triumphantly. Once on night duty she was so unreasonable and unfair that I became enraged and determined to go to Matron and hand in my notice.
Not all the sisters were so kind and understanding. Vanessa - who the medical staff nick-named Snake-Hips was made very unhappy by two bitchy Sisters whose ward she was on and I had a problem with one of the Night Sisters. I was sad that Vanessa only told me about this in later years. .Being so isolated we didn’t get the usual wake up call from the maids and had to rely on an ancient alarm clock. It was very large and had two brass bells attached. One morning it didn’t go off and I was late for breakfast. This particular Night Sister was big and bouncy and somewhat of an exhibitionist. She glared at me through her dark framed spectacles got hold of the alarm clock, managed to get it ringing and to prove her point went striding down the main corridor swinging the pealing clock triumphantly. Once on night duty she was so unreasonable and unfair that I became enraged and determined to go to Matron and hand in my notice.
“Pat you can’t throw away the last four years
training just because that cow was bitchy to you. You know what she’s like. The other night Jones took her 11pm coffee –
on the dot - Sister decided it was too weak and poured it onto the main
corridor floor,” Kate tried to reason with me. Fortunately by the time I came off duty I had
calmed down and agreed it would be silly to throw all the years of training
away because I had a problem with one Sister.
Common sense prevailed.
Compared to the normal Spartan single bedrooms ours had a bohemian feel
to it;
posters of Margot Fonteyn decorated
the walls, there were dried flowers in the fireplace and there was a delicious aroma – a mixture of pot pourri, fresh fruit and Vanessa’s scent.
In October I decided to go to the
hospital dance. I had heard that Andrew
had left the area so I wouldn’t bump into him.
After a few dances I noticed there was a bunch of chaps who apparently
were engineers from Metro-Vickers.
One in particular seemed rather ebullient and
even went up to Matron to have a chat - a rare occurrence with invited
guests. He seemed to stare at me a lot
and finally came up and asked for a dance.
He told me later he had said no way was he going to ask that conceited
looking girl to dance. I had never met
anyone quite like him and haven’t to this day.
He said his name was William.
16 comments:
The layout was fine in Word and fine before I posted it. I don't know why it has become so erratic but am nervous of fiddling with it.
So sorry.
Pat x
Just when you want a grandchild, they're never there!
AndrewM: they might be getting on a bit now. Now great grandchildren :-)
I wish I knew how Betws Garmon is pronounced. What a charming conglomeration of consonants and vowels. Do you still speak to Kate?
Never thought I'd see the words "hospital" and "dance" in the same sentence. Another cracking entry, Pat.
Exile\; Bettiss Garmon is the nearest I can get.
Kates's husband said on their Christmas card that Kate wasn't too well. I phoned and found she was being assessed for care. Mentally she is fine but has severe back problems and her husband needs help to care for her.
Sadly Ginny died some years back but I still have great conversations on the phone with Vanessa.
Looking forward to adventures with new friends William and Vanessa:-)
I just waited till I had a quiet time to sit down and savor your story.
cheers, parsnip
Parsnip: thank you. I'm sorry about the layout problems.
So the conceited looking girl was you?
A nice read, I can almost see and smell what you describe and even get rankled by the nasty girls. Did your sis stay permanently in Africa?
When you go to paste the text into blogger, if you look towards the top right of the box, you'll see there are 2 options - Compose and HTML. Try switching over to the HTML version and pasting in there - it might work better. You'll lose any bold or italics, but then you very rarely use them so it should be OK :)
Thank you, Pat! I have been looking forward to another chapter. I'm glad you didn't throw your training away because of the Sister, but I understand the strop!
Sx
Granny Annie: I'll try no to disappoint you.
Parsnip: bless you for your patience.
SDC: according to William - but it was a very 'Wiiiam' remark. In fact - like most young girls at a dance without a partner I was a bag of nerves - dreading being a wall flower and recent events had done little to restore self esteem.
The 'nastiness' emanated - in all three cases from women well past girlhood - old enough to know better.
The short answer is no - Maddie didn't stay in Africa but I don't want to jump ahead in the story. :-)
Kim: thanks for the advice and will have a go when I've bolstered my courage.
Scarlet: thanks honey. I'm lucky to have such faithful readers.
WOW what a chapter.
Mage: thank you. Lovely to hear that at bed time :-)
I loved the way you walked up to the German fella, introduced yourself with 2 words, and the next thing, you were all bonding. That made me cry a little, it was so sweet.
It is a lesson in so many ways.
AND I love the way you can paint a character in just a few words. You're so good at it.
Neena: thank you. the meeting with the Germans was always a very special memory for me and it dissipated some of the toxic feelings caused by the war and the unending propaganda.
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